Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1903-03-05


ply, sitting around the supper table
and eating their steaming soup. 1t
made him feel quite sad.
For moments the grim humor of
his position made. him smile, and he
said to himself: swell, Robinson
Crusoe, now you are on your desert
ed island"
He found it more and more difficult
to smile, however.
The night progressed. He still
cried for help every quarter of an
hour. Suddenly, however, the last
light was extinguished, and, feeling
that after that it would be useless,
the invalid stopped his cries.
1t began to rain, gently, slowly, but
necessarily.
From the left, where the view was
shut out by the rocks, came the
striking of the hours, halves and
quarters. How well NJ. Montreuil re-
membered the little church, so white,
so friendly. He had been in the habit
of regulating his watch after the
church clock, and it's bell had never
before announced to him any sor-
rows.
Five o'clock. A sickly streak of
dawn appeared on the horizon, gradu-
ally expanded, and became more bril-
liant. The mysterious noise of
awakening life arose from the plain.
M. Montreuil tried again to call for
help, but the cold during the night
had made him hoarse and the cascade
made more noise than on the day be-
fore.
Toward nine o'clock the old man
discovered, far away in the distance,
a peasant with a basket on his arm,
probably picking mushrooms. With
all his strength and energy M. Mon
treuil cried for help.
The mushroom picker stopped in
his search; he had heard the cry and
looked around in all directions. The
poor ~shipwrecked invalid attempted
to cry again to attract the attention
of the peasant, but the sound died
in his throat, paralyzed by hope and
fear alike. The mushroom picker
looked around once more, but not
being able to see anyone, he con-
tinued his work, believing that he
had been mistaken when he thought
he had heard some one cry.
1t was noon. NJ. Montreuil began
to suffer from the pangs of hunger.
He wanted to make a last effort. He
rested his whole weight upon the
lever; perhaps he could thus lift his
chair out of the rut; but the chain,
unable to resist the great strain,
broke.
On the main road, far away, he
heard from time to time, the rum.
bling of the farm wagons. Toward
evening the noise became mor sub
dued and he had no longer any cause
to be hopeful of approaching help
He made painful attempts to lift his
legs. He might as well have tried
to move those of a statue. Then he
tried to raise himself upon his ell
bows, to throw himself from his seat,
even at the risk of breaking an arm
He would then, he thought, roll down
like a barrel to the road where the
people passed. To get there was the
aim; no matter whether he arrived
there battered and covered with
blood, as long as he accomplished his
object.
But his chair would not rock OF
move, and, being unable to get out
of it in any other way, NJ. Montreui
saw once more the night descend anc
again he watched the appearance o.
that little light way down in the
plain. His fists c%lutched, his moutl
parched and speechless, without ever
a single thought, NJ. Montreuil sa-
there like a stone image, ~powerlessly
awaiting the terrible moment whe1
the light would go out.
Eleven o'clock at night; the ligh'
disappeared. -y---
Now he began to cry like a child
For two days he had eaten nothing
he was consumed by fever and hi!
burning head was almost too heav,
to hold up. There was a buzzing il
his ears, which, combined with thu
noise of the falling water of thu
brook, grew louder and louder, unit
it sounded like the deafening roar o:
the Niagara.
All at once his mind, the mind O.
an honest and peaceful man, CAV
way under the weight of all thos'
emotions. In his delirium, M. Mon
treuil began to cry out loud. HI
spoke to Perou as if the latter wer'
still with him.
"Is everything well secured? Thit
devilish voyage, is it never going tt
end? There is the port-the port
All ready to drop the anchor!"
After a few moments of silence, hi
began again with a terrible voice
beating the air with his arms:
"They are tying me to the mast
That is horrible! Let me go; yo'
know that the ship is sinking!-M.
God, they want to drown me!-Mur
der! Murder!"
lie z lie COulu SEE waves d
high as mountains advancing towart
him.
"They crush me! They swallow
and devour mel"
And he dug his nails into the arm
rests of his chair and tore at tn
cloth, clutching it like a shipwrecke'
sailor the wreck.
For a long time he suffered thu
from fever delirium. One moment h
imagined that he saw a ship approach
to save him; they threw him a lif'
buoy, but just as he was going t.
grasp it, they pulled it away iron
him; then he saw thousands of boat
pass quite near to him, but he wa
not able to reach them.
In his rawlings he passed through
all the passions and hopes of humal
1;fo op1 II, q fayu Seconds ran throne