The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1917-01-25


ner stood very still for a long minute
AS I sat at his side upon the faller
trunk of a large tree I regarded hin
with admiration, because he had 1.-THE
aspect Of some beautiful 1.-THE ANNA
Of the woods as he listened with deer
attention. Then very quickly he put
his two long fingers to his mouth, and
behold, the call of wild bird came
from between his lips. Twice 1t was
repeated. and then, he stood again In
deep attention. made not even a lit
tie breathing as I, too, listened.
Then came three clear notes of that
same wild bird in reply from not very
far up the mountain frond US.
That's Jim, the old turkey. Come
onv' said my Gouverneur Faulkner as
he again began to break through the
leafy barriers Of the low trees.
And in very short space Of time a
man emerged from a little path that
led behind tall cliff Of the gray rocks.
He was very large and very fierce
man, and might have had a fright of
him If his blue eyes, had not held such
kindness and joy in them at the sight
Of my Gouverneur Faulkner.
'Howdy, Bill" he said, with no hand
shake or other form Of a comrades
greeting. 80
"Howdy, Jim," returned my Gouver-
neur Faulkner in manner Of the same
Indifference, but with also an express
sion in his face Of delight at the sight
Of his blood brother, that Mr.. Jim
Todd.
'.That thar boy shet mouth?'
''He's Bob and as hard as q nut"
was the introduction I had from my
Gouverneur Faulkner.
"Then come on" with which COM
mand that wild man led us around the
tall cliff of gray rock, over which
climbed q sweet vine of rosy blossom
ing, which now know to call laurel,
and we arrived In front Of small and
low hut that was built against the
rocks. A clear, small stream made q
very noisy way past the door Of the
hut, but save for its clamor all was
silent.
Where are the boysT' asked my
GOuVerneur FauIKner.
sHid in the bushes. I've got the
man tied back in the still room. low
he amt no revenue, but they low diff
ferent. Come back and see If you kin
make out his gfbberish.'
"Come on, Robert" said my Gouver-
neur Faulkner to me as he followed
the wild Jim into the hut and back
into a room that was as a cave cut
into the rock. And I, Robert Carruth-
ers, followed him-to my death.
Seated upon rude bench in that
cave room, bound with a rope Of great
size, disheveled and soiled, but with
all of the nobility of his great estate
in his grave face, was my adored
Capitaine the Count de Lasselles! As
we entered he rose beside the bench
and in that rising displayed chain
by which one Of his feet was made
fast to the rock of the wall. 4
"Good morning, sir" said my Gouver-
neur Faulkner as II greeting gentle
man upon the street of that city of
Hayesville.
"Also good morning, SIR" made re-
ply my poor Capitaine the Count de
Lasselles. And he stood with a fine
and great courtesy waiting for my
Gouverneur Faulkner to state to him
what his visit could portend, as would
he have done in his regimental room
at Tour.
And as he stood for that very long
minute there expired the last moments
Of the life Of Robert Carruthers. A
stream OF light fell from the little win
dow high in the rock upon his luckless
head as he stood as If frozen into a
statue Of great fear. And as he SO
stood the eyes Of the Capitaine THE
Count de Lasselles fell upon him, and
he started forward as far as the length
of the chain by which he was bound
would allow him and from there held
out his hand to the frozen boy stand
ing in the stream of light from high
heaven.
'My most beautiful Lady Roberta,
do find that it is you who have come
to my rescue?" he questioned. II lost
you. mon enfant, in that great New
York"
'fMy beloved capitaine, how is it that
1 find you thus?'' l exclaimed as /
went to within his reach and allowed
that he take my two hands in his poor
shackled ones and put warm kisses OF
greeting upon them.
And it was while was shedding
tears Of pity for the Imprisonment of
that great man OF France in that