Cheyenne record., 1917-02-01
Beyond the Frontier
BY RANDALL PARRISH
"A Rosssasscs Of
Early Days IN
the Middle West

/ again through my veins. The truth
was mine; felt no inclination to OBJ
scure 1t. The time had come for rejoic-
ing, and action. I loved Rene d'Ar-
tgny, and, although he had never spo-
ken the word, knew he loved me.
Tomorrow he would be in exile. wan
derer of the woods, an escaped pris-
oner. under condemnation of death,
never again safe within reach of
French authority. Ay. but he should
not go si0ne; in the depths Of those
forests, beyond the arm of the law. be-
yond even the grasp of the church. we
should go together. In our own hearts
love would justify. Without a qualm
of conscience, without even a lingering
doubt, l made the choice, the final
decision.
know not how long it took me to
think this all out, until had accepted
fate; but I do know the decision
brought happiness and courage. Food
was brought me by a strange Indian.
apparently unable to speak French;
nor would he even enter the room.
silently handing me the platter through
the open door. Two sentries stood just
without-soldiers of De Baugis. ]
guessed. as their features were unfa-
miliar. They gazed at me curiously.
as I stood in the doorway, but with
out changing their attitudes. Plainly
I was held prisoner also; M. Cassion's
threat was being put into execution.
This knowledge merely served to
strengthen my decision, and closed
and barred the door again, smiling as
I did so.
It grew dusk while made almost
vain effort to eat, and, at last, push
ing the pewter plate away, crossed
over, and cautiously opened the wood
en- shutter Of the window. The red
light Of the sunset still illumined the
western sky. and found glorious refiec-
ton along the surface of the river.
It was dizzy drop to the bed Of the
stream below, but Indians were on the
opposite bank. beyond rifle shot. in
considerable force, a half-dozen ca
noes drawn up on the sandy shore, and
several fires burning. They were too
ldI AWAY lOE Ac " JuuSC tA4oGp
yet number among them sported war
bonnets, and had no doubt they were
IroQuois.
So far as I could perceive elsewhere,
there was no movement, as my eyes
Travelled the half-circle, over a wide
vista of hill and dale, green valley
and dark woods, although to the left
I could occasionally hear the sharp re-
port of rifle, in evidence that besieg-
ing savages were still watchful Of the
fort entrance. I could not lean out far
enough to see in that direction, yet as
the night grew darker the vicious spits
of fire became visible. Above me the
solid log walls arose but few feet
tall man might stand upon the win
dow ledge, and find grip Of the roof;
but below was the sheer drop to the
river-perchance two hundred feet be-
meath. Already darkness shrouded
the water, as the broad valley faded
into the gloom Of the night
There was naught for me to do but
sit and wait. The guard which NJ.
Cassion had stationed at the door pre-
vented my leaving the room. but its
more probable purpose was to keep
others from communicating with me.
De Tonty had evidently resorted to
diplomacy, and instead Of quarreling
with the three officers when they ap-
preached him, had greeted them all so
genially as to leave the impression that
he was disposed to permit matters to
take their natural course. He might
be watched of course, yet was no
longer suspected as likely to help reg-
cue the prisoner. All their fear now
was centered upon me, and my pos
sIble influence.
If I could be kept from any further
communication with either D'Artigny
or De Tonty, it was scarcely probable
that any of the garrison would make
serious effort to interfere with their
plans. De Tonty's apparent indiffer-
ence, and his sudden triendliness with
De Baugis and Cassion, did not worry
me greatly. 1 realized his purpose in
thus diverting suspicion. His pledge
Of assistance had been given me- and
his was the word of soldier and gen.
tleman. In some manner, and soon
before midnight certainly would re-
ceive message from Boisrondet.
Yet my heart failed me more than
once as waited. How long the time
seemed, and how deadly silent was the
night. Crouched close beside the door,
I could barely hear the muttered con-
versation Of the soldiers on guard;
and when crossed to the open win
dow looked out upon a black void.
utterly soundless.
Not even the distant crack Of ride
now broke the solemn stiffness, and
the only spot Of color visible was the
dull red glow Of q aecampnre on the op-
posite bank Of the river. had no way
Of comnnfin1 firma and &ha la 11inR