Crittenden press. [volume] (Marion, Ky.) 1879-1907, 1903-11-19

the wet path leading to the Roussillon
place
Father Beret gazed after him. his
face relaxing 10 serious expression
In which a trace OF sadness and gloom
spread like an elusive twilight He
took out his letter but did not glance
nj Il. simply holding II tightly gripped
In his slncwy right hand Then his
old eyes stared vacantly. as eyes do
when their sight Is cast back many.
many years into the past. The mis-
slvc was from beyond the sea-he
knew the handwriting-a watt OF the
flowers OF Avignon seemed 10 rise out
% H. hs II 10y the pressure OF his
grasp
A stoop shouldered. burly man went
by. leading a pair OF goats, a Kid fol
lowing. lie was making haste excited
~. keeping the goats AT lively trot
"l'ou Jour, Pcrc Beret," be- flung
ont broezily. and walked rapidly on.
"Ah. ali: his mind Is busy with the
newly arrived cargo" thought the old
throat aches FOR liquor-the poor man.
Then he read again the letters super
scription and made a faltcring move as
n 10 break the seal His hands trem-
hled violently. his face looked gray
and drawn
Come on, you brutes." cried the re-
ccding man. jerking the thongs of skin
by which he led the goats
Father Berct rose and turned into
his damp little hut where the light
was dim on the crucihx hanging OPP
posite the door against the clay
Gaubed wall. II was bare unsightly,
clammy room. A rude bed on one side,
shelf for table and two or three
wooden stools constituting the furni-
turc while the uneven punchcons Of
the door wabblcd and clattcrcd under
the priests feet
II had been many years since "A letter
from home had come 10 Father Bcret
The last before the one now In hand
had made him III Of nostalgia, fairly
shaking his iron determination never
20 quit for a moment his life work as a
missionary. Ever since that day he
had found II harder 10 meet the many
and stern demands OF q most difficult
and eXacting duty. Now the mere
touch Of the paper IN his hand gave
him sense Of returning weakness,
dissatisfaction and longing. The home
Of his boyhood. the rushing Of the
Rhone a seat I'm "A shady nook of the
garden, Madeline, his sister, prattling
beside him and his mother singing
somewhere about the house-it all
came back and went over him and
through him. making his heart sink
strangely. while another voice, the
sweetest ever heard but she was in
effnblc and her memory a forbidden
fragrance.
Father Bcrct tottered across the for
lorn little room and knelt before the
crucidX holding his clasped hands
high. the letter pressed between them.
Ills lips moved in prayer, but made
no sound his whole frame shook VIC
lcntly.
II would be objectionable desecra-
tion 10 enter the chamber OF Father
Beret's soul and look upon his sacred
and secret trouble. nor must we even
speculate as 10 its particulars. The
good old man writhed and wrestled
before the cross for a long time, until
ut last he seemed TO receive the calm
ness and strength he prayed for so
fervently. Then he rose, tore the let
ter into pieces 80 small that not a
word remained whole and squeezed
them so firmly together that they were
compressed into tiny, solid ball
which he let fall through crack be
tween the floor puncheons. After wait
ing twenty years for that letter hun
cry as his heart was, he did not even
open II when at last 1t arrived. He
would never know what message it
bore. The link between him and the
old sweet days was broken forever.
Now, with Gods help, he could do his
work to the end.
He went and stood in the doorway,
leaning against the side. He looked
toward the river house." as the in
habitants had named a large shanty
which stood on the bluff of the Wabash
not far from where the road bridge
at present crosses, and saw men gath
ering there.
Meantime Rene de Ronville had de-
livered Nine. Roussillon's letter with
due promptness. or course such a
service demanded pie and claret. What
still better pleased him, Alice chose to
be more am!able than was usually her