The Clio messenger., 1913-06-13
CHAPTER 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
We're 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 bowling be
fore the sacred relics. To these recall
citrant spirits. license and a rough
sort of merrymaking became the or
der OF the hour.
Early in the morning the multitude
began to arrive--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 a kitchen pot
In which to boil thin soup. or some
poor makeshft 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,
despite penalty. severe and dispro-
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 1t. or as much as lay open to
them; for around the top. chosen
abode Of the Governor, extended
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.
II 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 affairs.
"Oh my Lady," Her companion,
and former nurse. a woman about
| fifty years Of age, ventured this mild
expostulation.
There. Marie! You can go!"
Eyes. 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, | mean?"
"Nothing-only Beppo said they are
to be hanged day after tomorrow
when the pilgrimage Is over"
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 gomez"
mo, my Lady; he seems to have
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 a preoccupied
manner poor Marie! Your only sis
ter died there. didn't she?"
"Yes, my Lady: never saw her
after she left France with her hus.
band and baby girl. He was an un-
patriotic fellow--Pierre Laroche!"
mo doubt" said the Governors
daughter sbsently, 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 Hute-like voices OF
the choir-boys arose from different
parts Of the Mount, but she did rot
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.
/. PApsfng down "a corridor. she
reached an srchsd opening whose mas
sivs door swuna easily to her touch.