Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1914-07-24

ness.
vaguely wondering what It was. She
unclasped and opened 1t.
Monsieur must eat" she said grave
ly, "and sleep. Then he will be strong
again"
I tried to do as she said, munching
a few mouthfuls. Her actions, her
words, her manner toward me. both
bewtldered and angered. She had as
sumed the part of a servant-choseu
it, as II she would thus teach me my
own place. In every possible way she
showed me she was not there from
choice, but necessity. I lay back. toy
ing with the food, my appetite gone.
The wounded horse had been down to
the river and drank; now he was paw
ing the snow in an effort to discover
feed Over in the east, but some dis
lance off, rifle cracked ominously in
the silence My head fell back against
the bank, and was sound asleep.
It was two days later when we toiled
up a long hill, and came out upon the
summit 1 no longer needed to lead
the horse, and was Flooding along
YEARLY behind. Much Of the snow
had melted, leaving the soil soft, and
the trees appeared bare, phantom-like,
against the sky. Rene rode silently,
wrapped in her blanket, for the air
was chill and damp, her head bent,
her eyes straight ahead. l have no
remembrance that we had spoken for
an hour. Beyond the hill summit
there was an escarpment OF rock, CIV
ing an open view ahead. As gazed
of. over the trees below, my heart
gave g great bound-there, scarce a
mile away, flowing between leagues Of
forest, was tho broad Ohio, its waters
silvery in the sun. turned to her
and pointed.
"At last, Rene" I cried, forgetting.
1--WE are safe now; see! There is the
river"
She lifted her eyes and looked.
yes, moneieur."
why do you ever speak to me in
that toner You answer me always as
II you were my servant"
"Your servant" She was looking at
me now. Am I not, monsieur"
''Of course you are not. You are
free; whatever put that In your head ?
haven't known what to think, what
to do since we have been together.
Back on the Maumee IL thought you
loved me-"
II do love you, monsieur"
"You-you love me-" stammered.
And yet bear yourself as you do?"
"Yes, monsieur: how else could l
do? You are white; am an Indian"
lis that all! You think that makes
It different? Rene, love you; out
yonder is my home; would take you
there; would say to those who know
me-here is my wife"
"Your-your wife!" There was
doubt, questioning In her eyes.
Yes, of course; how could you
think otherwise?"
"Oh, monsieur, how could l know ?
How could believe? I was an Indian
girl, a Wyandot. 1t is not so the white
men come to our villages. have seen
them-the red.coats, the traders of
France. They take with the strong
hand, and then laugh, and 60 away.
Then you came and grasped me, and
said get into the canoe. tried to not
go, but you said yes. must. You
did not ask me, monsieur-you spoke
stern, angry. I was frightened, dare
not say no, SO did as you said was
your prisoner; you had taken me az
the warriors Of the Wyandots take the
maidens Of the 0jibwas."
Then II that was SO, why did you
not leave me-that night the Indians
passed us in Campo"
Her cheeks famed.
Il cuold not. monsieur loved
you"
And now?-now you will go with
me down there-a prisoner no longer,
but ny OWN"
always and forever7"
always and forever" I answered
gravely.
There was something new, wonder
full in the depths of the dark eyes that
looked into mine. saw her hands
clasp the white cross at her throat,
then they were held out to me.
II am so glad, monsieur" she said
softly. $50 glad!"
THE END.
q. $780,. E>IIau,cA %ha nanea