Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1920-02-24


Marie remained perfectly silent.
And for years she resisted her fathers
threats and promises and pleadings,
not understanding that it was a mental
inhibition which she could not break.
The sight of her dying mother had
inflicted a wound in the child's soul
that never healed. And every week at
first, every month later the scene with
her father was renewed.
She never pretended to have forgot
ten, as she might well have done. AS
she grew older her fathers outbursts
became less frequent. But the insane
rage which agitated him grew rather
than leSSened as the years went by.
Sixteen had passed; she was now
twenty-one, and she looked back on a
childhood that had been a torture.
Her estrangement from her father
was as complete as from the village
life. AT first the scandal had been
against her, and later her aloofness
had set the tongues of the ST. Boniface
women to wagging Like mother, like
daughter"-so runs the hard proverb
in every country. Marie Dupont grew
up friendless and utterly alone. The
girl had never had a friend, nor had
she ever even had sweetheart until
six months before.
Pierre, in the course of his peregri-
nations along the coast, at that time
as assistant on a smuggling craft, had
come to know the solitary figure that
| paced the beach. In those days the
girls heart, cut off from natural COM
munication with the young people of
| St. Boniface, had turned, with the
vague yearning of youth, to dreams of
the world outside. The repressed
| spirit seeks its adventures in devious
ways; if not in action. then in magma
| ton. Marie Dupont lOnged for release
| from her Imprisonment, and dreamed
! of the prince who was some day to
| come and take her away.
| When Baptiste began to show an in
| terest in her she hated him. She had
never thought of him as lover, and
| hardly as a man; he was part OF st.
Boniface, of the hateful life that en-
| compassed her, clutched at her and
would not let her go free She came
TO invest Baptiste with the qualities OF
all that she loathed.
Pierre. seraped acquaintance with
| her. He had the intuition of the base
man who must perforce win his VIC
| tins by guile. He listened to her con-
| fidences, shyly given to one who, by
| his wandering life and through the
! tales that he told, seemed the exact
opposite of all those whom she had
known. He sent Nanette to see Marie,
choosing the time when Dupont was
away.
| Nanette was not bad like most of
| her kind she was below normal men,
tally. When her lover, who had
her, she worked in large and cheap
| lumbermen's summer clearinghouse.
| Pierre promised her that the man
would return to her if she obeyed him.
| She met Marie upon the beach, and
! insinuated herself into her confidence.
| At last she took her to Simeon's dance
| hall.
! The lights, the dancing and the
music were a revelation to her. On
the first night she cried from happi-
ness. Wholly ignorant of life, her in
nocence protected her and sealed her
consciousness. And Simeon's place
| was better in the early summer
of that year than afterward, and some
, of the lumbermen would bring their
sweethearts there.
The girls innocence found an ally
| in the lumbermen, who protected her,
and she was, in fact, as safe there as
| in her home Pierre was angry at
| first, but afterward he was glad, for
he saw her dancing in Simeon's place
and began to conceive an infatuation
for her. He renewed his advances.
| telling her of Quebec, of the free life
| of the world beyond. When her mag
! nation was enkindled and her cheeks
picture. he asked her to accompany
Nanette with him on board his vessel,
come to Quebec. and marry him.
That was three days before. and it
was of this that the girl was think
| ing as her father walked back toward
the cottage after his meeting with
| Hilary. On the same day Dupont,
running small load along the shore,
had learned the gossip about his
daughter from a Cabling woman at
| Ste. Therese, twenty-five miles away
| so far the news had travelled. She
had gone to Ste. Marie in his absence.
to dance with Hilary, who assuredIy
| had a wife in his own country; if he
had not, he was not likely to seek one
among the habitants.
The story burned into the captains
brain. 1t was the solvent of his san
ity, the swapping of the only bond that
had linked him to the common life.
For Marie's sake he had hidden his
heart this score of years, and silenced
those impetuous voices calling to him
to leave all and go out into the world
/ and seek the sign which was to be
found branded upon some strangers
| forehead.
He stood at the cottage door, look
ing at his daughter, who had risen
and faced him. Jean Baptiste re-
NAMED outside.
81 sail for Quebec tonight" said
Dupont "Jean waits two days to
complete his cargo"
She nodded; her thoughts were far
away. But it came across her mind,
with momentary compassion. that she
would never see her father again.
perhaps shall not see thee again."
said Dupont somberly; and the words,
echoing her own thoughts, frightened
her. She shrank away. and Dupont
put out his hands and grasped her by
| the wrists. THE namel' he said.
She shook her head: she never spoke
when he made this demand.
the namei have been very pa