River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1899-09-07

You have not told me the name of La
Jongleuse, Yvonnei"
Non, non, for it is re bad fortune to
speak it,"
Nothing will harm you now, my
child" he answered, as he sprang from
the boat and pulled it up on shore.
IF one speak her name and the hour
II she viii appear it be sign of death"
He held out his hand to guide her to
the bank, and when he felt her fingers
within his own, masterful desire grew
strong in him. His persuasion could
conquer her fear.
'Yvonne, tell me her name"
He put his arm about her to steady
her as she wavered at his side.
II shall let nothing harm you," and
he frightened his clasp of her hand.
NJ. Nilleaubille, Wy make you me to
speak? Her name, it ees Matshi Skeou,
the young girl whispered. Her face,
raised to his, was illuminated by flash
of lightning.
Then, in the intense blackness that
followed, there was a deafening noise,
an avalanche of sound crashing about
them. a tree in the neighboring forest
fell, struck by a thunderbolt. Grand
mere sat in the boat, her head sunk
upon her breast, motionless.
Yvonne laid a hand upon her shout
der, but the old woman did not raise
her head.
''Grandmere!" she cried, looking
down into her face. Then: "Malheuri
Ellie est morte, morte!" she shrieked.
La Jongleuse, la Jongleuse!'
1t was true. The old woman was dead.
Willoughby carried the burden to the
house, where the husband and a mar
ried daughter awaited them.
He felt conscious-stricken He knew
that Yvonne would regard him as re-
sponsible for the calamity. Perhaps
the superstition had laid hold little on
him. At any rate, he sincerely repent
ed that lie had made the young girl
speak the dreaded name.
what would you like to have me
do?" he asked her after the grandmoth-
er's body had been tenderly laid upon
bed.
Shall go for priest?"
She looked at him with reproach in
her eyes, but her voice was low and
sweet.
Eyes. NJ. Villeaubille; if you would be
so good"
He ran down TO the shore again, in
the gathering storm. As he stopped
over the canoe he heard light steps be-
hind him on the grass. 1t had been an
uncanny experience even for Willough-
by, the night, the storm, the mysterious
glimpses of strange and solitary coun-
try, the weird tale of Indian super
stition, the dead woman, who had
stirred not in the canoe, Yvonne's "ry:
'LaJongleuse, la Jongleuse!'-nC n
der that he started when he heard the
unexpected sound behind him.
No wonder that wild fancy made
his heart beat quick. A slight figure
stood beside him. Yvonne's voice
spoke:
M. Villeaubille, 1 would not zait you
retourn to re village. Ze times ees too
too malfortunate. NJ. Villeaubille, tell
me true, true"
The young girl stepped up to him and
laid her two hands lightly, one on each
OF his shoulders.
Had you not fear gees momante
Half you not ven you hear my stepping
link ouf re Jongleuse?"
Willoughby laughed.
Zen you will not go. 1t ees YER bad
sign ven one hass her in re mind
Willoughby felt himself swayed by
the force of the young girls will. He
also felt himself swayed by contrary
force impelling him to go, as if in some
way his decision imported much to
him. The Lady of the Flag-Flowers
had cast her spell over him. Would she
conquer? Would he yield?
"Grandmere ees dead. Ze priest, he
may come in re morning. will be con-
tent to wait"
Willoughby turned the boat upside
down upon the shore, and started back
toward the house with Yvonne. A long,
low cry came waveringly from the
stream, and a cold touch was laid upon
Ills liz AafSSo MS manu- ~
brush it away, but his hand met only
the empty air.
A little winding path led through the
trees to the house. 1t was very dark,
and the branches which they divided
across their path sprang back again be-
hind them with snaps and crackles.
Willoughby thought he heard little
movements, now on this side, now on
that. sometimes in front, sometimes be-
hind.
"Yvonne, are there three of us here? ?"
The girl disengaged her hand from
his arm, and, with an inarticulate
scream, flung from him through the
trees and vanished.
Then came voice TO Willoughby.
low and fiute-like, whether from above,
from beside or from within, he could
not distinguish.
''You have yielded through fear of
the Jongleuse. Therefore, you win
fear her always, and she will bring
death to you ce."-From the Lady
of the Flag Flowers, Herbert S. Stone d
Co.