The citizen., 1914-03-06
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Peasant Guide.

He flashed out the saber and des-
perately he slid it this way and that
about the great stone, trying to find
a crack, something to loosen, some
thing that would give. And while he
worked In a fever, in a chill, he re-
membered Pietro's letter.
Then he set down the candle end on
a shelf and with trembling fingers
drew off his coat and drew out the hid
den papers. The wet from his bath in
the water-butt had stained them lit
tie, but only little, for they were
carefully wrapped in the bit Of oilskin
in which they had come. He unfolded
the letter.
"If you will press the lower corner
on the left-hand side" Pietro said
''the lower corner!"
And he had been concentrating all
his efforts, all his despair, on the up
per corner. When it is a question of
life and death man is superhumanly
strong and quick sometimes, but he is
also sometimes forgetful. 1t is an ex-
citing and confusing thing, likely, to
be working for life and liberty after
five years of imprisonment. Francois
pushed the lower left-hand corner and
like magic the great block above
swung out With his lighted candle
and turned and swung back the door
into place and turned again and faced
blackness. Narrow, low, cold black
ness. Quickly enough, however, with
good courage, with his heart thump-
ing out song of hope, which he had
kept down sternly till now, he walked,
at times STOPPING low as he must be-
cause of the descent, down the secret
road of the old Zappis. His candle
held forward, he could see few feet
ahead, but all he could see was huge
blocks of rough stone, green with
mold, water dripping between them.
The air he breathed was heavy and
thick; through his wet clothes he felt
a chill as of the grave. But what mat
tered the road, when the road led to
freedom?
Suddenly it came to him that the
passage might be blocked. 1t was years
since Pietro had been through it;
some of the stones might have fallen
it would take very little to close so
narrow a way. With an anxiety which
was physical pain, with breathless
eagerness now, he hurried on. He had
to stop to light his second candle;
again he hurried on. Would the end
never come? Was any mistake pos
sible? With that he stumbled against
something and fell, and the candle
flew from his hand and was put out;
with a hoarse groan he threw out an
arm to steady himself, to rise; his
hand went through a yielding, prickly
mass; glimmer came in past it
light-the end!
Pushing, crashing, staggering
through, he came into a strange place.
1t was as II giant had taken huge
spoon and scooped out the top of the
earth deep, very deep. All of this
great hollow was filled with trees and
tangled underground. 1t was full of
vague shadows in the glimmer of the
earliest dawn Francois, standing
there sobbing, CHASTITY with paleness,
with matted hair and wild-staring eyes
and gasping mouth and wet torn
clothes, was fit demon for the haunt
ed spot. He saw nothing, no one; with
that there was a soft swapping of
twigs and a movement in the darkness
farthest from him; movement toward
him. Tottering he crawled to meet it;
in another second the shadows had
shaped into figures-a peasant boy on
horse, leading another horse.
Then he stood close to them, and
the boy leaning over without word
put something into his hand, and Fran
co.'s, swaying with exhaustion, saw
that it was a flask. He took long
swallow of cognac and his chilled blood
leaped, and with that he had caught
the bride from the lad and was in the
saddle.
In the shadows of trees, in lonely
lane, the peasant boy stopped his
horse suddenly and made short ges-
ture toward the flask sticking out of
Francois coat pocket. His strength
was going again; it was exactly the
right moment. Another swallow, of
brandy and he rode on with fresh
courage. But something in the ges-
ture of the peasant boy; something
about his seat in the saddle, about the
touch of his hands on the rein, gave
| Francois curious underlined shock. In
the growing daylight he turned toward
the silent rider. The coat collar was
up and the broad-brimmed soft hat
drawn down. The slim figure, outlined
against the cool pink vastness of the
morning sky was clad like an ordinary
young peasant-yet! There was q
poise. sure grace, which seemed unlike
a peasant, which seemed like
Have we far to go?" Francois de-
manded suddenly In French.
The head turned swiftly: black az