The Washington times., 1914-01-18

QulchlN 10 Ine hOnudy makers
! who batEed and goifed and lost
their money in the Casino, for
SettUl of the Years work which had
preceded their holiday and which would
begin again when it came to an end;
they seemed very long to the village
priest and his housekeeper.
There were moments when the re-
! sponsibility of caring for the sick man
weighed very heavily on the shoulders
of the uncomplaining Therese. She
was not so young as she used to be, in
spite of all the good will in the world,
and she was glad to let the able re-
double his attentions in the sickroom
| for this strange man who struggled
! haltingly through the valley Of the
I shadow.
His unexpected coming into their. lives
| had brought about revolution in the
! quiet atmosphere. not onyy OF the Pres
| bytere, but of the entire village. NJ.
| Bonnot, the maTchand de win, and all
| their friends realized for the first time
how great was their appreciation of the
| evenings OF chess and dominoes and Gig
arettes in the abbe's salon, now that
| these evenings were denied them. They
were al loose end after their daily
work was over and, although thew con-
greSated at the tables of the Iirtle cafe
1 and slipped their books and grenadins
with much conversation and laughter
at the back of it all there was a sense
of some one missing
AS Tor NJ GOnsard, he took a new
lease OF life. Never had he been so
happy in Ambleteuse. To emerge from
a sort Of mental and physical coma,
brought about by having nothing to do
except attend to diminutiVe ailments Of
no significance, and find that he was
a Y nll 1a1 -,
edSe, gave him an increase of self-re-
spect. The memories of his Paris days
crowded back on him, and when he
aWoke in the mornings he began to
think at once about his patient. He
was always pottering to and from the
oughly enjoying the small notoriety
that Everard's illness brought him.
People would stop him in the street.
''Bonjour. NJ. Gonsard''
'BonJour, monsieur" or madame as
the case might be-
'Eh bien, and how is YOUR patient TO-
day. the other would inquire
And M. Gonsard would stroke his
oeard and nod his head and join h s
long. thin fingers and look very i'm
portant and scientific and say:
"Ah! monsieur, we are getting along
well-the same as if we were on wheels.
We shall be on our feet again soon.''
That was how 1t always ended-"on
our 1eet again soon.
IT was his watchword, his slogan. his
creed. repeated daily to every inquirer.
But when they had lost all count of the
hunDer OF times he had said it, and the
holiday makers were gathering like
swallows ready to fly, and the shop
Keepers began to talk over their profits
during the season. there came a morn
ing when the watchword which had be-
come so tiFesome was no longer heard.
morning when NJ. Gonsard did not
even stop. but waved his hand and hur-
ried on, his face radiant with triumph
and delight.
1t was a morning when Therese went
about the house laughing absurdly. dab
blng her eyes with an apron, speaking
10 herseir and throwing up her hands
ana laughing again. She was like moth
ing SO much as hen which had Matched
out weird and unknown bird from the
one egg of which it had been sitting for
weeks.
Her knitting-needles had been cIIck-
ing softly as she sat in Eyerard's room
When suddenly she looked up from her
WOOL 10 see him staring at her curiously.
There was difference in the look that
caught her breath, and she felt excited.
She watched him turn his eyes round
the room and take in the crucifx. the
picture of the Madonna, the flowers on
the table by the side of the bed, and
then look back at her again. A puzzled
froHn came over his face.
Where am I?'' he said. and then re
are you?''
And Therese dropped her needles with
q glad cry and got up. Who am I?''
she echoed. Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! RI
am Therese. but watt. Wait, I Will 20
and fetch N. rAbbe." and she went out
OF the room at a run. calling loudly.
. The abbe came quickly in. bare-armed. |
II rom on the garden. What is the matter? |
But Therese was speechJess She
Deamed at him and said: "Oh. Mon |
Dleu. Mon Dieu.' and waved her hand |
toward the sickroom.
Ihe able left her there and hurried |
into the bedroom, wondering what could |
nave happened The sick mans ewes |
met his as ne entered and the priest |
hurried TO him with gladness all over |
ms race, sat down on the side of the |
bed, and caught Up his hand
Everadrd smiled at him and held his |
hand tightly.
Hello he said. IT'S YOU. How
splendid! Extraordinarily enough, vas
telling Ruddy and Angy all about you
only last evening"
The able swallow CO.
Mon cher: this is the happiest mo-
nent of my life"
Everard went on Deaming. The abDe
was such a sple1did fellow, and, some
now. at that moment. the one man on
earth he wanted to see. FLOW are Won |
End glad The voice trailed off. His
eyelids drooOped. There was little
sigh Of great COntentment and Everard
Mas fast asleep.
The abbe looked down at him as he
ay there. clinging like child to his
1and. \ throb went through his heart.
II l had killed this boy, Oh, mon
Oieu, 1 thank you"
And presently fat Thercsc tiptoed in
Ill smiles. Here were these two holding
lands for all the world like father and
jon-for the stranger appeared only a
ad in his fevered gauntness-and there
vas a smile on the boys face as he
lept. She crept out again and went
nto the kitchen, and sang little things
o herself quietly.
And time slipped by, and there were
uties being neglected. but the big priest
at mOtionless on the bed. Everard !
night go on sleeping for hours, but not
or worlds would he have tried to re-
ease his hand. The boy was glad OF !
in-this boy who had escaped death
or the third time.
Continuation of This Story VIII