The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1914-03-27
CHAPTER vi.
CAPTAIN D'Auvray.

by my sudden exclamation, and striv-
ing to get up. glanced back at him
"A dead man; stay where you are;
he is dead all right. I'll be back in a
moment"
/ stepped within, and held the torch
down closer, the CHASTITY yellow light
falling full on the upturned face. He
was a man of seventy, or over, a
sturdy looking fellow for his years, in
the garments Of French courier des
bois; his features strong, refined, bear
ing even in death a certain peculiar
dignity, increased by a snow-white
beard. Apparently he had not been
dead long, nor was there slightest evil
dence Of struggle; the hands were
empty, and, Judging from the ugly
cash in his head, he had been struck
from behind Unexpectedly. 1t was a
CHASTITY wound, and the man had prob
ably died instantly. The blow must
have been a treacherous one, deliv-
cred by some person acquainted with
the cabin; otherwise the dog would
have sprung to his masters defense.
Plainly this was murder, and the as
the door, locked in the dog; had even
washed off the blade of the ak, and left
it standing there against the wall
what could have been the object? Was
it revenge? Robbery? l felt in the
pocket of the loose blouse, finding
nothing, but my eye caught the glim-
| mer of a medal fastened to the front
of the shirt. l unpinned it, and held it
up to the light of the torch, studying
out the French inscription, letter by
letter, half guessing at its meaning-it
was medal of honor, given for special
! gallantry in action at Fontenoy to
Capt Raoel DAuvray.
! | stood staring at it, and then down
into the face Of the dead man. D'Auv
| ray: Her name! The same name she
| had given me! The face of the girl
| came back instantly to memory, dis
| tinct, living. There was familiarity,
| nected the two together. She had told
| me her father was French officer
| but dead, killed in action. Perhaps she
! thought SO; had been deceived into
| this belief Yet | was convinced now
| that this was the man; that he had
| been living up to few hours before,
| and had met his fate here in the will
| derneSS by a foul and treacherouS
| blow. Her father! The knowledge
! seemed to shock me, to leave me help
! less; | could not divorce my mind
| from the remembrance of the daugh-
| ter Where would she be that night?
Safe at Harmar? or in the dark woods
with Girty? Did she know about this
| hidden cabin? This island rendeZ-
vous? Surely this could be no mere
coincident of name and history, yet
what was the mystery that enveloped
both? Why was this Captain D'Auv-
! ray hiding here, and why did she deny
that he was still living? The more
thought, the more tangled grew the
skein. Brady called me, and stepped
back into the other room, still dazed,
| grasping the medal in my hand.
We'll, what is it?" he asked gruff-
ly. What have you found out?"
told him briefly, describing the ap-
pearance of the body, and handing him
! the medal. He turned it over in the
light of the torch.
French, amt it? What does it
say?"
AN army decoration for gallant con-
duct given to Capt. Raoel D'Auvray,
Fifth Cuirassiers.'
You think it belonged to him."
Beyond doubt; it was pinned to
his. shirt-the one thing he treasured
in his exile
"D'Auvray," he repeated, as if the
name had familiar sound. I've heard
of him before Wait bit; now | have
it-he commanded Hamilton's Indians
| at Vincennes when Clark took the
town. 1 saw him once"
He got to his feet with my help, and
braced himself in the doorway, looking
intently at the upturned face, as | held
the torch extended.
That's the man" he said soberly 81
remember the white beard; some one
told me the Wyandots called him the
white chief. And he was in the French
army? An officer? Poor devil!
wonder what happened to drive him to
this
He stared about among the shadows
at the miscellaneous articles littering
the shed. his trained eyes noting things
l had overlooked in my excitement.
He was murdered all right, lad" he
commented slowly, and by white
man. This was not Iniun work Here
is the imprint of a boot heel; you can
even see the nails. That's odd; didn't
suppose there was boot worn in this
country except By British officers
What is that red garment lying on the
box? l thought so; an English in
fantry jacket made in London, and il
never belonged to IiAuvray-" Ee hello
it up. 1T was a big fellow who wore
this coat, about your size"