The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1908-01-14

petre had nicknamed Marie Molse
because of the frequency with when
her tears fell and because they seem
ed at times unreasonable as summer
showers. La Pluie!
The name had stuck as nicknames
on the Bayou always do and what was
worse, Marie had not outgrown the
reproach. She still cried-in season
and out of it-though she had grown
to be a big girl, large indeed for four
teen, stout and strong.
But La Pluie was not crying as she
hurried homeward through that clear
sunset though she was somewhat
frightened to find herself out alone SO
late. Bright-eyed, breathing deeply,
she hurried along, taking the up
slopes with the free, swift stride OF
her splendid strength. She should
not have been out alone at this hour
and she would not have been If things
had gone as she had planned. She had
run over to the Reneaus expecting
to stay all night with Victorine and
had found Mathilde Champetre al
ready there as the guest for the
night. Victorine's bed would not
hold more than two so La Pluie had
paid little visit and started to go
home. But just then Mathilde began
to tell about her brothers homestead.
He WAS planning to be married soon
and all the girls present knew the
g.ri he ives going to marry. Small
wonder Marie forgot what time 1t
was, until the long shadows scared
her. But she would hurry!
La Pluie did hurry and she was fast
gaining on the fading day when a
strange sound from the branch halted
her. 1t was a queer sound a hoarse,
weak croak as though some hurt
thing was trying to initiate the Bien-
vieu halloo for help.
La Pluie stopped and listened.
81 wish to know, me, what das Is.
It's hurt"
The cry came again, weaker, more
of croak.
TITS hurt, yes!"
La Pluie left the road and went
swiftly in search of the hurt thing,
Breaking through the bushes, stoop-
Ing, peering, on and on to the foot
Of big bee-tree and
"Ah, Marie!" she said, soft voiced
and pitiful.
And it was pitiful sight, that brave
face paling there so swiftly in the
ong, dry grass and the strong young
body growing lax and limp while the
life went out of it in bright red spurts
A pitiful sight, but La Pluie did not
Try. She dropped on one knee beside
he fallen man, lifted the cut leg high
On her other knee and pressed her
.humb down hard on that squirting
artery.
81 have stopped the blood, Raoul,"
she said. "Reste tranquil. l will call
!or help, me-"
And upon whom should she call for
lelp in this time of stress with only
Ter thumb between the Bayou's well
owed rogue and death? Upon whom
should she call? Who was it that
lad shielded her since babyhood,
,omforted her, fought for her. Who
out the red-headed Champetre boy
hat had grown now such a wild.
ooasting fellow even his own sister
despaired of him.
"Bete-noire!" La Pluies voice car
lied far and true but the Champetre
farm was miles away How could
Bete-noire hear?
Steadily, clearly, La Pluie sent forth
her hail with never a fear that he
would fail her. Sometimes between
the calls she spoke cheerily to Raoul
who tainted with weakness and came
to and tainted again; sometimes she
prayed softly to the Holy Mother;
and always she held her thumb hard
down. She did not cry.P
"Bete-noire! Bete-noire!"
The night grew darker, deeper nm
til La Pluie could no longer see the
leg across her knee. "Bete-noire"-
La Pluie!" The answering hail
came like leap of joy and the anx.
ious question tore after it through
the night. Tout va bien?"
'Oui, I'm wit Raoul'
There was no need for another call
Bete-noire's wood-mans ears had
placed the sound. Marie heard the
bushes breaking before his rapid an.
proach; heard the dry sticks swapping
beneath his feet and
Il have stopped the blood Bete.
,noire, mails can't tear apron wit one
hand, l wish, me, you make light and
tear apron. Raoul, he have cut him.
self" -
Bete-noire snapped a match broke
4 splinter from an old pine stumn
and put the torch into Marie's free
hand. Kneeling beside her he toro
strip from her apron and twisted -
tightly around Raours badly cnt
calf, Then he spoke
me, go to your papa's honse 20
take back shovel and l hear modame
say you going stay la mutt wit TO-,
inc. But, me, l know Matbilde wos
dere. / fas scare. 1 so to M. Reneon
he tell me, No! you amt dere so1
low your track in big road tiu ~