The Forrest City times., 1913-09-19
CHAPTER R XIV.
The Pilgrimage.

From far and near the peasants and the people of the towns and villages, joined In the customary annual de- scent upon-or ascent to-the Mount. None was too poor, few too miserable, to undertake the Journey. A pilgrim age, was the occasion called; but al though certain religious ceremonies were duly observed and entered into by some with fanatical warmth, many there were. who, obliged to pay tithes, nourished the onerous recollection of the enforced ecclesiastical tenth" to the exclusion of any great desire to avail themselves of the compensating privilege of beholding and lowing be fore the sacred relics. To these recall cltrant spirits, license and rough sort Of merrymaking became the or der Of the hour
 Early in the morning the multitude began to arriye-in every manner of dilapidated vehicle, astride starved looking donkeys and bony horses, or on foot Many who had camped out the night before, by wayside or in forest, brought with them certain scanty provisions and kitchen pot in which to boil thin soup, or some poor makeshift mess; others came empty-handed, pilgrims" out at the elbow and shoeless, trusting to fortune for their sustenance, and looking cap able even of having poached in one of the wide forests they had traversed, 6GEnita a portionate to the offense, for laying hand on any lords wild birds or rab- bits
 Savage men; sodden men-good. bad and indifferent! Like ants throng- ing about the hill, they straightway streamed to the Mount took posses sion of it. or as much as lay open to them; for around the top, chosen abode of the Governor, extended a wall; grim, dark and ominous brist- ling with holes which seemed to look blackly down: to watch, to listen and to frown. Without that pretentious line of encircling masonry, the usual din. accompaniment to the day and the presence of so many people, pre- vailed; within. reigned silence, a sol emn hush. unbroken by even a senti- nel's tread
 T shall be glad when it's all over," Standing at the window of her cham Der the Lady Elise had passed In dressing to look out upon the throng -a thousand dots upon the sand. dark moving masses in the narrow by ways, and motionless ones near the temporary altars.
 "Oh. my Lady!" Her companion. and former nurse, woman about fifty years of age, ventured this mild expostulation.
 There. Marie! You can go."
 Yes. your Ladyship-"
 One moment" The slender figure turned. This fastening"
 In an instant the woman was by her side
 Have you heard anything more about the prisoners, Marie?" abrupt ly. Those who were tried. I mean 2"
 "Nothing-only Beppo said they are to be hanged day after tomorrow when the pilgrimage is over" l Day after tomorrow!" The brown eyes looked hard and bright the small white teeth pressed her lip And the man my fa-the Governor had-whipped from the Mount-you have heard nothing more of him where he has gone?"
 No. my Lady; he seems to have l disappeared completely; fled this coun- | try. perhaps, for those islands where so many like him." half bitterly. have gone before!"
 The girl looked up in preoccupied manner. Poor Marie, Your only sis ter died there. didn't she?" Yes. my Lady; l never saw her after she left France with her bus- band and baby girl. He was an un. patriotic fellow-Pierre Laroche!"
 No doubt" said the Governors daughter absently. as the other pre- pared to leave the room.
 Alone. the girl remained for several moments motionless before the great Venetian mirror; then mechanically hardly looking at the reflection the glass threw back at her, she finished her toilet. This task accomplished still she stood with brows closely drawn afar the fute-like voices of the choir-boys arose from different parts of the Mount. but she did not seem to hear them; made a sudden quick gesture and walked toward the door in the manner of one who has arrived at some resolution.
 Passing down corridor, she reached an arched opening whose mas sive door swung easily to der touch.