The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1917-03-22

All were on their feet, their faces
picturlng the sudden horror, yet Cas-.
sion was first to recover his wits, and
lead the way without. Grasping the
soldiers arm and bidding him show
where the body lay, he thrust him
through the door. | fingered behind
shrinking from being again compelled
TO view the sight OF the dead man.
yet unable to keep entirely away. Cas-
sion stopped, looking down at the OBJ
ject III the grass, but made no effort
TO touch it with his hands. The SOL
der BEN and rolled the body over, and
one of the priests felt in the pockets
of the jacket. bringing forth a paper
or two. Cassion tool these, gripping
them in his fingers, his face appearing
gray in the early light.
"Mon dleu. the man has been MUIR
dered." he exclaimed, "a bastard blow
In the back. Look about and see IL
you find a knife. Had he quarrel with
anyone, Moulin?"
The soldier Strengthened up.
mo, monsieur; l heard Of none
though he was often rough and harsh
Of tongue to the men. All! now 1 re:
call. he had words with Sieur d'Arti-
gny on the beach at dusk. l know not
the cause, yet the younger mar left
him angrily and passed by where I
stood, with his hands clinched."
"D'Artigny. hey" C~assion's voice
had a ring of pleasure In it. cay! he
is a hothead. Know you where the
young cock Is now?"
He, with the chief, left an hour
ago. Was it not your order, mon
sieur?"
Cassion made q swift gesture, but
what it might signify I could not de-
termine, as his face was turned away.
4 moment there was silence, as he
shaded his eyes and peered out across
the water.
True, so 1 did, he said at last.
They were to depart before dawn.
The villain Is yonder-see; well off
that farthest point. and it's too late to
o. ertake him now. Sacre! there is
bury Hugo Chevet and go our way
the kings business cannot wait"
On the beach all was in readiness
for departure, and 1t was evident
enough that Moulin had already spread
the news of Chevet's murder among
his comrades. Cassion, however, per-
mitted the fellows little time for dis
cussion, for at his sharp orders they
took their places in the canoes and
pushed off. The priest was obliged
to assume Chevet's former position,
and | would gladly have accompanied
him, but Cassion suddenly gripped me
in his arms. and without so much as
a word, waded out through the surf,
and put me down IN his boat, Chamber
ing in himself. and shouting his orders
20 the paddlers.
| think We were all Of us glad
enough to get away. / know I sat
silent and motionless just where he
placed me and stared back across the
widening water at the desolate, dis
NAL scene. How lonely and heartsick-
ening ii was. those few log houses
against the hill. the blackened stumps
littering the hillside, and the gloomy
forest beyond. The figures Of a few
men were visible along the beach, and
once / saw a black-robed priest emerge
from the door of the mission house,
and start down the steep path.
The picture slowly faded as we adj
vanced, until finally the last glimpse.
of the log chapel disappeared In the
haze, and we were alone on the mys-
terry Of the great lake, gliding along
b bare, uninhabited shore. I was
aroused by the touch Of Cassion's hand
on my own as it grasped the side Of
the canoe.
adele" he said. almost tenderly.
"Why should you be so serious? Can
not we be friendsT"
My eyes met his in surprise.
Friends, monsieur! Are we not?
Why do you address me like that?"
Because you treat me as though I
were a criminal" he said earnestly
"As II | had done you an evil in max
ing you my wife. Twas not l who
FASTENED the matter, but La Barre.
IT'S not just to condemn me unheard,
yet ! have been patient and kind. l
thought ii might be that you loved
another-in truth I imagined that
D'Artigny had cast his spell upon you;
yet you surely cannot continue to trust
that villain - the murderer OF your
uncle"
How know you that to be true"
I asked.
Because there Is no other account
Ing for It," he explained sternly. 1.-The
quarrel last evening. the early depar-
ture before dawn"
AT your orders, monsieur"
"Ay. but the sergeant tells me the
fellow was absent from the camp for
two hours during the night; that in
the moonlight he saw him come down
the hill. Even II he did not do the
deed himself, he must have discovered
the body-yet he voiced no alarm"
l was silent, and my eyes fell from
his face to the green water.