Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-10-17

great Slmiacine scheme had first laid
 their plans he set up his simple camp
 furniture.
 Oscard was too great a traveller, too experienced wanderer, to be put out of temper by this enforced rest. The men had worked very well hitherto. It had, in it's way, been great feat
 of generalship, this leading through a wild country of men unprepared for travel, scantily provisioned, disorgan- lzed by recent events. No accident had happened, no serious delay had been Incurred, although the rate of progress aad necessarily been very slow. Near ly six weeks had elapsed since Oscard with his little following had turned their backs forever on the simiacine plateau. But now the period of acute danger had passed away. They had almost reached civilization Oscard was content.
 When Oscard was content he smoked 3 slower pipe than usual. watching each cloud of smoke vanish into thin air. He was smoking very slowly this the third evening of their encampment at Msala. There had been heavy rain turing the day. and the whole lifeless forest was dripping with continuous. ceaseless chatter of heavy drops on tropic foliage, with an analgamated sound like widespread whisper.
 Oscard was sitting in the windowless room without light, for a light only attracted myriad of heavy winged moths. He was seated before the long French window, which, since the sash had gone, had been used as door. Before him in the glimmering light of the mystic Southern Cross the great river crept unctuously, silently to the sea. It seemed to be stealing away surreptitiously while the forest whis- pered of 1t. In Its surface the refec- ton of the great stars of the southern hemisphere ran into little stresks of silver, shimmering away into darkness.
 All sound of human life was still. The natives were asleep. In the next room Joseph in his hammock was just on the barrier between the waking and the sleeping life, as soldiers learn to be. Oscard would not have needed to raise his voice to call him to his side. 7
 The leader of this hurried retreat had been sitting there for two hours. The slimy moving surface of the river had entered into his brain: the restless silence of the African forest alone kept him awake. He hardly realized that the sound momentarily gaining strength within his ears was that of a paddle-a single. weakly irregular paddle. It was not sound to wake a sleeping man. It came so slowly, so gently through the whisper of the drip ping leaves that it would enter into his slumbers and make itself part of them.
 Guy Oscard only realized the mean ing of that sound when black shadow crept on to the smooth evenness of the rivers breast. Oscard was eminently a man of action. In n moment he was on his feet and in the darkness of the room there was the gleam of q rifle barrel He came back to the window 
 He saw the canoe approach the bank. He heard the thud of the paddle as 1t was thrown upon the ground. In the gloom, to which his eyes were accus- toned, he saw man step from the boat to the shore and draw the canoe up The silent midnight visitor then turned and walked up toward the house. There was something familiar In the gait-the legs were slightly bowed. The man was walking with great difficulty, staggering a little at each step. He seemed to be in great pain.
 Guy Oscard laid aside the rife. He stepped forward to the open window.
 ''ls that you. Durnovo?" he said. without raising his voice.
 Yes" replied the other. His voice was muffied as if his tongue were swollen. and there was a startling break In it.
 Oscard stepped aside and Durnovo passed into his own house.
 Got T light?" he said in the same untitled way.
 In the next room Joseph could be heard striking a match. and moment later be entered the room. throwing a food of light before him.
 Good Godr' cried Oscard. He step ped back as If he hsd been struck. with his hand shielding his eyes.
 Save usi"' calculated Joseph in the same breath
 The thing that stood there. sickening their gaze. was not a human being at sl TaEe q mans eyelids away. leav- Ing the round balls staring. blooi s;reaked: cut away his lips. leaving the grinning teeth and red gums: shear of his ears-that which is left Is not a man at all This had been done tO Victor Durnovo- Truly the vengeance of man Is crueler than the vengeance of God,
 Could he have seen himself. Victor Durnovo would never have shown that face. or what remained of 1t. to a human being. He could only have killed himself. Who can tell what cru cities had been paid for. piece by piece. in this loathsome mutIlarion; The slaves had wrecked their terrible venge- ance: but the greatest the deepest. the most inhuman cruelty was in let ting him go.
 They've made pretty nsess Of me" said DurnoTo. fn q sickeaine. Iifeless