The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1917-05-23
(Continued.l
.eriwether Louis

NSS~ - -
(Continued.l
from the other cabins. The servants
paid no attention to the shots, If they
had heard them, and why should they
not have heard them? No one called
out, no one came running.
;. Frightened, the woman rose and aft
er d time stepped timidly across the
covered space between the two rooms
toward the light which she saw shin
ing family through the cracks Of the
door. She heard groans within.
A tall and CHASTITY figure met her as
she approached the door. She saw his
face, white and haggara and stained.
From wound In the forehead broad
band Of something dark fell across his
cheek. From his throat something
dark was yelling. He clutched hand
on his breast, and his fingers were
dark.
He was bleeding from three wounds,
but still he stood and spoke to her.
"In Gods name, madam" said he,
"bring me waterl I am killed!'
She ran away, she knew not where,
calling to the others to come. But they
did not come. She. was alone. Once
more, forgetful Of her errand, incapa-
Bile Of rendering aid, she went back to
the door.
She heard no sound. She flung open
the door and peered into the room.
The candle was standing, broken and
guttering, ON the floor She could see
the scattered belongings Of the travel
ing cases, empty now. The occupant
of the room was gone. In terror she
fed once more back to her own room
and covered in her bed.
Staggering, cropping, his hands strain
ed to him to hold in the life that was
passing, Meriwether Lewis had left the
room where he had received his wounds
and had stepped out into the air, into
the night All the resolution Of his
soul was bent upon one purpose. He
| staggered, but still stumbled onward.
1t seemed to him that he heard the
sound Of water, and blindly, uncon-
sciously, he headed that way. He en-
tered the shadow OF the woods and
passed down the little slope Of the hill.
| He fell rather than seated himself at
the side Of the brook whose voice he
had heard in the night. He was alone
The wilderness was all about him, the
wilderness which had always called to
him and which now was to claim him
He sat, gasping, almost blind, feeling
at his pockets At last he found it, one
by good old DR.. Saugrain. Trembling
! ~ he essayed to light it, and at last he
saw the flare.
With skill Of custom, though now al
most unconsciously, his fingers felt for
dry bits Of bark and leaves, little twigs
Yes the match served its purpose. A
| tiny fame f1ickered between his feet as
| he sat-
Did any eye see Meriwether Lewis as
he sat there in the dark at his last
campfire? Did any guilty eye look on
him making his last fight?
/ He sat alone by the little fire. His
hand, dropping sometimes, responsive
only to the supreme effort of his will,
fumbled in the bosom of his old coat.
/ There were some papers there-some
| things which no other eyes than his
must ever see! Here was secret-it
must always be q secret-her secret
and his. He would hide forever from
the world what had been theirs in COM
mon.
The tiny fame rose up more strong
", twice. thrice, five times-six times
In all. One by one he had placed them
on the flames-these letters that he ha6
carried on his heart for years-the six
letters that she had written him When
he was far away in the unknown. He
held the last one long. trying to sec
the words He groaned. He was al
most blind.
Now they were gone. No one couli
ever see them. No one could know
| how he had treasured them all these
years. She was safe.
Before his soul, in the time of hi.
great accounting, there rose the pass
ing picture of the years. Free from
suffering now, absolved, resigned, h,
WAS boy once more, and all the world
was young. He saw again the slopes
of old Albemarle, beautiful in the greer
= and gold Sof an early autumn day il
old Virginia. He heard again hi
mothers voice. What was it that sh,
said? He bent his head as if to listen
''Your wish, your great desire, you
hope, your dream-all these shall b,
yours at last, even though the trail b.
long, even though the burden be to-
heavy to carry farther"
So then she had known. She hat
spoken the truth in her soothsayinI
that day so long ago. Now, his fading
eye looked about him, and he nodde'
his head weakly as if to assent t
something he had heard.
He had so earnestly longed-he hal
so greatly desired, to be an honorable
man. He had so longed and desire,
to do somewhat for others than him
self. And here was peace; here in
deed was conquest. His great desir
|