Middletown transcript., 1916-08-26

not once did he approach the mission
house. So was glad enough when
| the canoes were ready. and all prep
arations made for departure.
Yet we were not destined to escape
thus easily from St Ignace. OF what
occurred must write as it happened
to me then. and not as its full signi-
ficance became later clear to my un-
derstanding. 1t was after nightfall
when Cassion returned to the mission
house. The lights were burning on
the table, and the three priests were
rather impatiently waiting their even
ing meal. occasionally exchanging
brief sentences. or peering out through
the open window toward the dark
water.
Cassion came in alone, yet l OBJ
served nothing strange about his ap-
pearance, except that he failed to
greet me with the usual attempt at
gallantry, although his sharp eyes
swept our faces as he closed the door,
and stared about the room.
what! not eaten yet?' he ex-
claimed. II anticipated my fate to
be a lonely meal, for the rascals
worked like snails, and I would not
leave them rest until all was finished.
Faith, the odor is appetizing, and am
hungry as a BEAR
The younger priest WE Ved his hand
to the servant yet asked softly:
Monsieur Chevet he is delayed
also?"
HE will sup with his men tonight" !"
returned CassiOn shortly. seating him
self on the bench. THE sergeant
keeps guard of the canoes. and Chevet
will be useful with those off duty"
The man ate as though nearly fam
ished, his ready tongue unusually ST.
lent. and at the conclusion of the meal,
appeared so fatigued that made early
excuse to withdraw so he might rest
in comfort, climbing the ladder in one
corner to my own bed beneath the
caves. This apartment, whose only
advantage was privacy, was no more
than narrow space between the slop-
ing rafters of the roof. unfurnished,
but with a small window in the end,
closed by a wooden shutter. A pard-
ton Of axe-hewn planks divided this
attic into two compartments, thus COM
posing the priests sleeping chambers.
yXliln I fhoro &hnry hnfh ono1Infn6
the one to the south, Cassion, Chevet
and Pere AlloueZ resting in the main
room below.
AS l lowered the trap in the floor,
shutting out the murmur of voices.
was conscious of no desire to sleep,
my mind busily occupied with pOssi-
bilities of the morrow. | opened the
window and seated myself on the
floor gazing out at the night. Below
extended the priests garden, and be-
yond the dark gloom of forest depths.
The way of egress was easy-a mere
step to the fat roof Of the kitchen,
the dOvetailed logs of which afforded
a ladder to the ground. l had no OBJ
ject in such adventure, but a restless
impulse urged me, and, almost before
l realized my action. l was upon the
ground. Avoiding the CLEAN Of light
which streamed from the open win
dow Of the room below, l crossed the
garden and reached the path leading
downward to the shore. From this
point could perceive the wide sweep
of water, showing silvery in the dim
moonlight, and detect the darker rim
OF the land. There was fire on the
point below the huts, and its red glare
afforded glimpses Of the canOes-mere
blurred outlines-and occasionally the
figure Of a man, only recognizable as
he moved.
was still staring at this dim pic
ture when some noise, other than the
wind. startled me and drew silently
back behind a great stump to avoid
discovery. Ny thought was that some
one had left the mission house-Cas-
sion perhaps with final orders to those
on the beach-but a moment later
realized my mistake. yet only crOuched
lower in the shadow-a man was ad-
vancing from the black cOncealment
of the woods and crossing the open
space.
He moved cautiously, yet boldly
enough, and his movements were not
those of an Indian, although the low
bushes between us and the house