Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1904-03-16
ALICE OF OLD
WNCENNES
CONTINUED
y MAURICE THOMPSON
o1Uv11UA&. rom BY TIE
BoW1u. MDRIlk. OouRA1Y

W llu HIS NrlSl STRAINED ana his fln-
gers almost broken. Hamilton stumbled
forward and would have impaled him.
self had not Father Reret turned the
point of his weapon aside as he low
cred it.
Surrender or die
That was a strange order for a priest
to make, but there could be no mistak-
Ing its authority or the power behind
1t. Hamilton regainel his footing and
looked dazed, wheeling and putting
like porpoise, but he clearly under.
stood what was demanded Of him.
IF you call out, I'll run you
through" Father Beret added, seeing
him move his lips as II to shout for
help.
The level rapier now REINFORCED the
words. Hamilton let the breath go
noiselessly from his mouth and waved
his hand in :oken Of enforced submits
sion.
"Well. what 10 you want ne to do?''
he demanded. after a short pause.
"You seem to have me at your mercy.
What are your terms?'
Father Beret hesitated. 1t was a
question difficult to answer.
"Give me your word as British
officer that you will never again try
to harm any person not an open, armed
enemy in this town.
Hamilton's gorge rose perversely.
he erected himself with lofty reserve
and folded his arms. The dignity Of a
lieutenant governor leaped into him
and took control. Father Beret cor
rectly interpreted what he saw.
my people have borne much,' he
said, and the killing Of that poor child
there will be awfully avenged if but
say the word. Besides, I can turn
every Indian in this wilderness against
you in a single day. You are indeed
at my mercy, and will be merciful if
you will satisfy my demand"
II am willing to give you my word
be presently said. ''And let me tell
you," he went on more rapidly, II did
not shoot ut her. She was behind you"
your word as British officer!"
Hamilton again stiffened and hest
tated, but only for the briefest space.
then said:
"Yes. my word as British officer"
Father Beret waved his hand with
mpatience.
go, then, back to your place in the
fort, and disturb my people no more.
The soul Of this poor little girl will
haunt you forever. Coz
Hamilton stood little while gazing
at the face Of Alice with the horrible
wistfulness Of remorse. What would
he not have given to rub his eyes and
find it all dream?
He turned away, a cloud scudded
across the moon, here and yonder in
the dim town cocks crowed with lone
some, desultory effect.
Father Beret plucked up the rapier
that he had wrenched from HamiIton's
hand. 1t suggested something.
"Holdv' he called out "Giye me the
scabbard of this sword"
Hamilton, who was striding vigor-
ously in the direction Of the fort,
turned about as the priest FASTENED to
him.
"Give me the scabbard of this rapier.
I want it. Take It off,"
The command WIS not gentle voiced
A hoarse half whisper winged every
word with an imperious threat
Hamilton obeyed. His hands were
not firm. His fingers fumbled nervous
~. but he hurried, and Father Beret
soon had the rapier sheathed and Sc
cured at his belt beside its mate.
A good and true priest is a burden
bearer. His motto Is. Alter alterius
onera portate (Bear ye one another,
burdens). His soul is enriched will
the castoff sorrows of those whom he
relieves. Father Beret scarcely felt
the weight Of Alice's body when he
lifted it from the ground, so heavy was
the pressure Of his grief. All that hel
death meant, not only to him, but t.
every person who knew her, came into
his heart as the place of refuge con
secrated for the indwelling Of pain. HI
lifted her and bore her as far toward
Roussillon place as he could, but his
strength fell short just in front Of the
little Bourcier cottage, and, half dead
he staggered across the veranda to the
door, where he sank exhausted.
After a breathing spell he knocked
The household, fast asleep, did not
hear, but he persisted until the door
was opened to him and his burden.
Captain Farnsworth Enclosed his
bloodshot eyes at about o'clock III
the morning, quite confused as to his
place and surroundings. He looked
about drewsily with sheepish half
knowledge Of having been very drunk
A purring in his head and dull ache
reminded him Of an abused stomach
He yawned and stretched himself. then
sat up, running hand through his
tousled hair. Father Beret was on
his knees before the cross, still as a
statue, his clasped hands extended up,
ward.
Farnsworth's face lighted with rec.
ignition, and he smiled ra ther bitterly
He recalled everything and felt asham-
ed, Inundated, self debased. He had
outraged even a priests hospitality
with his british appetite, and he hated
himself for it.
I'm a shabby, worthless dog" he
muttered, with petulant accent. why
don't you kick me out, father?"
The priest turned a collapsed and
bloodle}s gray face upon him, smiled
In a tired, perfunctory way. crossed
himself absently and said: