The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-16
WANDERING
Chapter III-Continued.

Chapter III-Contnued.
When my master was on shipboard he
enjoyed the sea even less than the free
air of these broad stretches; for While ne
could cast an eye about and approve OF
something under the sky-perhaps
church steeple, the color OF thatch
which filed me with joy-he could not
approve Of anything aboard ship. In
deed it was pity to have no delight IN
cleaving the water and in the far-off
spouttng Of whales, to say nothing OF
living world that rides in fluctuations.
For my part, l loved even the creaklng
of a ship and the uncertainty Of ever
coming to port, and the anxiety lest
black flag should show above every sail
we passed. The slow progress Of man
from point to point in his experience,
while it sometimes enrageS, on the whole
interests me; and the monotony Of a
voyage has a sweetness like the monotony
Of daily bread.
looked out of the grenier window upon
the high road, and upon the June sun in
the act Of setting; for we had supped and
gone early to rest after hard day. Post
horses were stamping underneath, all
ready for some noble count who intended
to make another stage Of his journey be-
fore nightfall.
Small obtrusive cares, such as the de-
sire that my shoes should last we'll into
Paris, mingled with JOY in the smell Of
ward to seeing Madame de Terrier again.
I wrapped myself every night In the con-
victlon that I should her, and more
freely than had ever seen her in Amer
lea.
There was the noise of horses gallop-
ing, and the expected noble count
rived; being no other than De Chaumont
and his post coaches. He stepped out Of
the FIRST and Ernestine stepped out Of
the second, carrying Paul. She took him
to his mother. The door flew open and the
woman I adored received her child and
walked back and forth with him. Annabel
leaned out while the horses were changed.
l saw Miss Chantry, and my heart mis-
gave me. remembering her brothers pro-
longed lament at separation from her.
He was. I trusted, already shut into
one Of those public beds which are like
cupboards; for the day had begun for us
at 3 in the morning. But if he chose
to show himself, and fall upon De Chau-
mont for luxurious conveyance to
Paris, I was determined that Sl1e-
nedonk and should not ap
pear. I wronged my poor master, who
told me afterwards he watched through a
crack Of the cupboard bed with his heart
in his mouth.
The pause was a very short one for
horses are soon changed. Nine de Fer
r1er threw a searching eye over the land
scape. 1t was a mercy she did not see
the mole IN the grenier, through which
devoured her, daring for the first time to
call her secretly-Eagle--the name that
DE Chaumont used with common free
doml Now how strange is this-that one
woman should be to a man the sum of all
things! And what was her charm I could
not tell. for began to understand there
were many beautiful women in the world
Of all favors, and shapely perhaps as the
one Of my love. Only her found drawing
the soul out Of my body; and none of the
others did more than please the eye like
pictures.
The carriages were gone with the sum-
and 1t was no wonder all fell gray over the
world.
De Chaumont had sailed behind us, and
he would be in Paris long before us.
had first felt some uneasness and
dread OF being arrested on our journey;
though our Breton captain-who was a
man Of gold that would travel far to see
this day, If I could, even beneath the At
lantlc, where he and his ship now float
obtained for us at Dieppe, on his owr
pledge. kind Of substitute for passports
We were a marked party, by reason of
the doctors lameness and Skenedonk'
appearance. The Oneida, during his for
mer so1ourn in France, had been encour.
aged to preserve the novelty of his Indiar
dress. AS I had nothing to give him ir
Its place. 1t did not become me to fine
fault. And he would have been more
conspicuous with cooked hat on his bare
red scalp and knee breaches instead O.
bucksklns. Peasants ran out to look a.
him, and in return we looked at them will
q good will.
We reached the very barriers Of Paris
however, without falling into trouble An<
IN the streets were so many men Of s.
many nations that Skenedonk's attir
seemed no more bizarre than the turban
of the east or the white burnous Of tn
Arab.
1t was here that Skenedonk took hi
role as guide, and stalked through mar
row, crooked streets, which by comparison
made New York, my first experience Of
city. appear plain and open village
1 do not pretend to know anything abou
Paris. Some spots in the mystic laby
rinth stand out to memory, such as tina
open space where the guillotine had don
It's work, the site Of the Bastille, and
long street leading from the place of tn
Bastille, parallel with the river; and thj
I have good reason to remember 1t
called Rue st. Antoine. I learned wei
also, a certain prison, and a part Of tn
ancient city called Faubourg st. German
One who can strike obscure trails in tn
wilderness of nature, may blunt his fir
instincts on the wilderness of man.
This did not befall the Indian. He too
bee line upon his old tracks, and whe
the place was sighted we threade
what seemed to be a. rivulet betwee
cliffs, for a moist depressed street-cente
kept us straddling something like a gut
ter, while with outstretched hands "
could brace the opposite walls
We entered a small court where CRU
man, called concierge, having a dirt
kerchief around his head, received |
doubtfully. He was not the concierge {
Skenedonks day. We showed him coir
and Doctor Chantry sat down in his cha
and looked at him with such contem,
that his respect increased.
The house was clean, and all the stai]
we climbed to the roof were we'll scoure
From the mansard there was a beautif