Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1916-07-28
He Lifted Me to My Feet.

He Lifted Me to My Feet.
Is abrupt and the waves still high.
Indeed l saw no spot In all that dis
lance where a boat might make safe
landing. Are you becoming dryf
81 am at least warm, and already
feel much stronger. Would 1t not be
best, monsieur, for us to scale the cliff
and wait our rescuers there, where We
al keep lookout"
"If you feel able to climb the rocks,
although the passage is not difficult
A boat might pass us by here and
never be seen or know of our pres
ence, unless we keep up a fire."
held out my hand to him and he
helped me to my feet. The warmth
of the sand while 1t had not entirely
dried my clothing had given me fresh
vigor, and l stood erect, requiring no
assistance. With this knowledge a
new assurance seemed to take posses
sion of me, and l looked about and
smiled.
II am glad to know you can laugh"
he said eagerly. II have felt that u
being thus shipwrecked together was
not altogether to your liking"
"And whyY' 1 asked, pretending
surprise. Being s~hipwrecked, of
course, could scarcely appeal to me
but I am surely not %ungrateful to
you for saving my life"
"As to that, l did no more than any
man might be expected to do" he pro-
tested. But you have avoided me
for weeks past, and 1t can scarcely
be pleasant now to be alone with me
here"
Avoided you'll! Rather should I af-
firm 1t was your own choice, monsieur.
II I recall Alright I gave you my con-
fidence once, long G on the Ottawa,
and you refused my request of assist
ance. Since then you have scarcely
been of our party"
"Ah," he burst forth, +" I have been
oftentimes nearer you than you
said to me at that last meeting, or he
appeal you made for my assistance. I
realize the position you are in.
madame, married by force to a man
you despise, a wife only In name, and
~endeavoring to protect yourself by
wit alone. 1 could not forget all this,
nor be Indifferent. l have been in
your camp at night-ay, more than
once-dreaming 1 might be of some
aid to you, and to assure myself of
your safety"
You have guarded me?"
"As best l could, without arousing
the wrath of Monsieur Cassion. You
are not angry? it was but the duty
of a friend"
mo, an not angry, monsieur, yet
it was not needed. l do not fear
Cassion, so long as | can protect my
self, for If he attempts evil it will
find some form of treachery. But,
monsieur, later l gave him the pledge
he asked"
"The pledge! What pledgeT
THAT l would neither meet, nor
communicate with you until our ar
rival at Fort St Louis"
My eyes fell before his earnest
gaze, and 1 felt my limbs tremble.
Mon dieu! Why2 There was some
special causeT'
Eyes, monsieur-listen. Do not be-
lieve this is my thought, yet 1 must
tell you the truth. Hugo Chevet was
found dead, murdered, at st. Ignace.
Twas the morning of our departure,
and your boat had already gone. Cas-
sion accused you of the crime, as some
Of the men saw you coming from the
direction where the body was found
late at night, and others reported that
you two had quarreled the evening
before. Cassion would have tried you
offhand, using his authority as COM
mander of the expedition, but prom
ised not to file charges until we
reached st. Louis, If I made pledge
twas then that I gave him my word"
D'Artigny Strengthened up, the ex-
preston on his face one of profound
ACCOMPLISHMENT.
"He-he accused me-" he asked, "of
murder to win your promiseY"
mo, monsieur; he believed the charge
true, and 1 pledged myself to assure
you a fair trial"
"Then you believed also that I was
guilty of the foul crimeT'
1 caught my breath, yet there was
nothing for me to do but give him a
frank answer.
IL have given no testimony, mon
sieur," l faltered, "but IL saw you
in the moonlight bending over Che
vets dead body"