Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1916-12-01
a Romance of
Early Days In
the Middle West

"He believes that you feel interest
in meT'
II have never denied It; the fact
which rankleS, however, is his knowl
edge that l feel no interest whatever
in him. But We waste time, monsieur,
in fruitless discussion. Our only curse
Is a discovery of Hugo Cheyet's real
murderer. Know you anything to war
rant Suspicion
D'Artlgny did not nswer at once.
his eyes looking out on the white
crested waters of the lake.
mo. madame" he said at length
gravely. THE last time Chevet was
seen alive, so far as l now know, was
when he left the boats in company
with Monsieur Cassion to return to the
Mission house. Could there be any
reason why Cassion should desire the
death of Chevet?'
IL know Of none. My cncle felt
bitter over the c%oncealment OF my for
tune, and no doubt the two had ex-
changed words, but there was no open
quarrel. Chevet was rough and head
strong, yet he was not killed In fight,
for the knife thrust was from behind
"Ay, n towards blow. Chevet
possessed no papers OF value"
l shook my head.
"If 80, no mention was ever made
to me. But, monsieur. you are still
wet, and must be cold In this wind.
Why do you not build the fire, and
dry your clothing?"
1.-The wind does have an icy feel,
he admitted, but this Is a poor spot.
Up yonder in the wood shadow there
Is more warmth, and besides 1t af-
fords better outlook for the canoes.
Have you strength now TO climb the
bluffY'
1.-The path did not appear difficult,
and 1t Is dreary enough here. l will
try"
| did not even require his aid, and
was at the top nearly as soon as he.
1t was aPleasant spot, a heavy forest
growing almost to the edge, but with
green carpet of grass on which one
could rest. and gaze off across the
wide waste Of waters. When | fin
ally turned away l found that D'Arti-
gny had already lighted a fire with
flint and steel in a little hollow within
the forest. He called to me to join
him.
There Is nothing to see" he said,
land the warmth Is welcome. You
had no glimpse Of the boats?'
mo" I admitted. "Do you really
believe they survlvedT"
There was no reason why they
should not, If properly handled. l
have controlled NOES in far worse
storms. They are doubtless safely
ashore beyond the point yonder. You
are not afraid to be left a%lone?'
mo" in surprise. "Where are you
going?
"TO learn more OF II surroundings
and arrange some traps for wild game.
| will not be away long, but someone
should remain here to signal any
canoe returning in search"
l watched him disappear among
the trees without regret or slightest
sense of fear at thus being left alone.
The fire burned brightly and / rested
where the grateful warmth put new
life into my body. The silence was
profound, depressing, and a sense OF
intense loneliness stole over me. l
felt a desire to get away from the
gloom Of the woods, and climbed the
bank to where | could look out once
more across the waters.
The view outspread before me re-
vealed nothing new; the same dread
waste Of water extended to the hori-
zon, while down the shore no move
ment was visible. As I rested there,
oppressed by the loneliness, | felt little
hope that the others Of our party had
escaped without disaster.
D'Artigny did not believe his own
words; | even suspected that he had
gone now alone to explore the shore
line; seeking to discover the truth and
the real fate Of our companions, At
first this conception Of our situation
startled me, and yet, strange as 1t may
| seem, my realization brought no deep
regret. | was conscious Of a feeling
Of freedom, Of liberty, such as had not
been mine since we departed from
Quebec. l was no longer watched,
spied upon, my every movement or
dered, my speech criticized. More, !
was delivered from the hated presence
Of Casslon. ever reminding me that ]
was his wife, and continually threaten
ing to exercise his authority. Ay, and
I was with D'%Artigny, alone with him,
and the JOY Of this was so deep that
| came to q sudden realization OF the
truth--I loved him.
Al y