The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-17
WANDERING
CHAPTER w.

chapter w.
The idiot boy somewhere upon the hills
OF Lake George, always in world OF fog
which could not be discovered again, had
often come to my mind during my jour
neys like a self that I had shed and left
behind. But Bellenger was a cipher. l
forgot him even at the campfire. Now
here was this poor crazy potter on my
track with vindictive intelligence, the day
set foot in Paris. Time was not granted
even to set the lodging in order He must
have crossed the ocean with good speed
as Doctor Chantry and Skenedonk and l..
He may have spied upon us from the port.
through the barriers. and even to our
mansard. At any rate he had found me
in a crowd, and made use of me to my
downfall; and I could have knocked my
stupid head on the curb as I was hailed
away.
while we marched along Rue St. Antoine,
the gendarmes protecting me from the
crowd. He thought 1 was going to the
scaffold where many a strapping fellow
had gone in the Paris Of his youth, and
fought to reach me, laying about him with
his loaf of bread. Skenedonk would GER
tainly trail me, and find a way to be of
use. unless he broke into trouble as read
fly as l had done.
My guards crossed the river in the
neighborhood of palaces, and came by
many windings to a huge pile rearing its
back near a garden place, and there l
was turned over to jailers and darkness.
The entrance was unwholesome. man
at table opened a tome which might
have contained all the names In Paris.
He dipped his quill and wrote by candle
light.
Political offender or common GRIM
inal?' he inquired.
Political offender" the officer an
gwered.
What is he charged with?'
Trying to assassinate the emperor In
his postchase."
La, Ia Ia the recorder grunted. AN
other attempt. And gunpowder put
In the street to blow the emperor up only
last week Good luck attends him:-only
few windows broken and some common
people killed. Taken in the act was this
fellow?"
with the knife in his hand
What name?" the recorder inquired.
I had thought on the answer. and tolC
him merely that my name was Williams:
"Eh bien Monsieur Veeleeum. Take
him to the east side among the po!itica
offenders" said the master-jailer to ar
assistant or turnkey.
But it's full" responded the turnkey
'Shove him in some place.
They searched me, and the turnke.
lighted another candle. The meagerness
of my output was beneath remark
When he had led me up flight OF stone
steps he paused and inquired
Have you any money!
mo"
$50 much the worse for you.',,
.'What Is the name Of this prlson!
asked.
este. Pelagie," he answered. IF 20,
taya no money and expect to eat here
Won better give me some trinket to sell TO
you
: IT have no trinkets to give you.
He laughed.
Your shirt or breeches win do
Are men shut up here to starVe?'
The jailer shrugged
1.-THE bread Is very bad, and the bean
too hard to eat. We do not furnish tn
rations: it is not our fault. The rul
here is nothing buys nothing. But slice
in your breeches while you can. 70
will soon be ready enough to eat them
1 was ready enough to eat them Their
but forbore to let him know 1t. TIL
whole place was damp and foul. w
passed along a corridor less than fou
feet WIDE and he unlocked a cell fro1
which revolving odor came. There wa
- no light except what strained through
loophole under the ceiling. He turne
the key upon me- and 1 held my nose
Oh, for deep draught of the wilder
ness!
There seemed to be an iron bed at on
side, with a heap Of rags on top. I re
solved to stand up all night before trust
ing myself to that couch. The cell wa
soon explored. Two strides in each diree
ton measured it. The stone walls WEI
marked or cut with names I could diml
see.
I braced my back against the door an
watched the loophole where a gray hi1
of daylight told that the sun must I
still shining. This faded to a blotch
the thick stone, and became obliterated.