The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1911-08-14

guess where you are"
Rowland waited.
"If you had lived in this country
long, m'seur, you would have heard
of la Maison de Mort Rouge-the house
Of the Red Death. as you would call
it. That is where we are-in the dun
geon room. 1t is a Hudson Bay post,
abandoned almost since 1 can remem-
Der. When l was child the smallpox
plague came this way and killed all
the people. Nineteen years ago the
red plague came again, and not one
lived through it in this Poste de Mort
Rouge. Since then it has been left
to the weasels and the owls. 1t is
Stunned by every living soul between
the Athabasca and the bay. That is
why you are safe here
Eye godsv' breathed Rowland. els
there anything more, Croisset? Safe
from what, man? Safe from what?"
From those who wish to kill you,
m'seur. You would not go into the
south, so la belle Meleese has compel
led you to go into the north. Compre-
nez vous? You would have died last
night, m'seur, had it not been for Me-
leese. You escaped from the coyote,
but you would not have escaped from
the other. That is all l can tell you.
But you will be safe here. Those who
seek your life will soon believe that
you are dead, and then we will let you
go back. Is that not q kind fate for
one who deserves to be cut into bits
and fed to the ravens?''
you will tell re nothing more,
Jean" the engineer asked.
Nothing, except that while would
you. That perhaps is because I once
lived in the south. For six years
was with the company in Montreal,
where 1 went TO school,
Then he unbolted and opened the
door. Family there came to them, as
if from a great distance, the wailing
grief of Woonga, the dog.
''You said there was death here"
whispered Rowland, leaning close to
his shoulder.
i "There is one who has lived here
since the last plague" replied Croisset
under his breath. 'He lost his wife
and children, and it drove him mad.
That is why we came down so quietly.
He lived in little cabin out there on
the edge of the clearing, and when
went to it tonight there was sapling
over the house with a flag at the end
of it. When the plague comes to us
we hang out a red flag as a warning
to others. That is one of our laws.
The flag is blown to tatters by the
winds. He is dead"
Rowland shuddered.
"Of the smallpox?
eyes,
For a few moments they stood in 81
1ence. Then Croisset added, 'You will
remain here, m'seur, until 1 return
He went out, closing and barring the
door from the other side, and How
land seated himself again in the chair
beside the table. Fifteen minutes lat
er the half breed returned, bearing
with him a good sized pack and two
gallon jug.
"There is wood back of the stove,
m'seur Here are food and water for a
week and furs for your bed. Now 1
will cut those thongs about your
wrists"
"Do you mean to say you're going to
leave me here alone-in this wretched
prison?" cried Rowland.
Mon Dieu, is it not better than a
grave. m'seur? will be back at the
end of week"
The door was partly open, and for
the last time there came to HOwland's
ears the mourning howl Of the old dog
on the mountain top. Almost threaten
ingly he gripped Croisset's arm.
"Jean, if you don't come back what
will happen?''
He heard the half, breed chuckling.
"You will die, m'seur, pleasantly and
taking your own time at it, which is
Zach better than dying over a case Of
dynamite. But I will come back,
m'seur. Goodbye"
Again the door was closed and bolt
ed, and the sound of Croisset's foot
steps quickly died away beyond the
log walls. Many minutes passed be-
fore Rowland thought of his pipe or a
fire. Then shiveringly he went to
seek the fuel which Jean had told him
was behind the stove The old bay
stove was soon roaring with the fire
which he built, and as the soothing