The Connecticut labor press., 1920-01-31

1T is my wish, mOnsieur-and N.
warning ALSO"
The memory of their past meeting'
rushed through Hilary's mind, alread!
unbalanced by the events of the after
noon, and he became conscious Of G
great rush of anger that seemed tt
sweep through him like some imper
sonal force and hold him against his
will.
do you think, Mademoiselle Rosny
that you are entitled to express your
wishes and your warnings to me, In
the light of our acquaintance" he de
handed.
you are pleased to be insolent to
me again." she answered in low
voice. 'It does not matter. II you &c
to st. Boniface you go at your peril
''Mademoiselle-"
81 ask you not to go. implore you
then"
'.By what right?" cried Hilary angri-
w. 'Have you worked for me or
against me, Mademoiselle Rosny, since
I came here, expecting to find only a
welcome among my neighbors? Have
you shown any reason why l should
neeu your duN1CO, OE put 1dAIA LA yoo1
Observation-Disclosures"
She was not looking at him. mo, "
she answered, very quietly. "But you
must not go. Monsieur Askew, I have
come here to beg it Of you. +"
"You have come here to get me not
| to attend to my interests" cried Hill
airy, losing all his self-control. "Are
you not actively allied with my worst
enemy, who seeks to ruin me and drive
me out of st. Boniface. lost nearly
winters cut of lumber when my
boom was treacherously destroyed.
You knew, Mademoiselle Rosny. and
yet you ask me to heed advice from
one who is not my friend"
She started as If he had dashed her
across the face. She tried to answer
| him, but could only stammer inco-
| herently; and her eyes. which had
blazed with wrath as he spoke of the
| boom, were filed with tears which she
checked valiantly.
You think I came here tonight"
| she began, and paused, her voice chok-
ing. "You think I came hereto you
Ito engage in some plot of Monsieur
are not SO important an enemy as
that" She put out her hands swiftly.
"Ah, do not go to st. Boniface." she
pleaded.
Hilary looked at her stubbornly. He
would not let himself be moved.
Il have come to you, and you have
Inundated me-" she whispered. go,
then !" she cried suddenly jerking the
reins. $50, Monsieur Askew! Go to
ST. Boniface!"
She spurred her horse and galloped
wildly away, while Hilary watched. He
saw her pass out of sight; he waited
till the last reverberations of the fly
ing hoofs had ceased. He was ashamed !;
and yet he was sustained by a grim
mer determination than any that he
had ever known. He would not let
himself believe in her. His wrath,
which made him doubt every one,
which had suffered him to let LATE de-
part, kindled him to fighting heat.
He meant to fight, and he grew hot
ter as he tramped steadily along the
river road, Keeling off the miles be-
hind him, lonely figure, his heart
rancorous against the injustice meted
out to him; bitter against LATE, bitter
against Madeleine, but furious in his
resolution to show st. BOniface what
manner of man he was.
At last the lights of the settlement
began to twinkle through the trees.
He walked little faster, lingering the
revolver in his coat pocket. But when
he reached the gate above the dam he
stopped for while and considered.
His instinct was for physical assault,
such violence as alone could appease
his rage. He listened TO the distant
hubbub about Duval's shanty; and
then he did the wisest, Or else the
most foolish thing that he could have
done. He broke his revolver, took out
the cartridges. and threw them away.
He put the weapon back in his pocket,
opened the gate, and went on.
And this was wise, because Canadian
law does not readily exonerate the man
who kills; yet foolish, had he known
that three men at least in st. Boniface
expected him and were prepared for
his coming.
He strobe past the dam and ap-
preached the outlying houses of the
settlement, feeling an implacable re-
solve harden him as he heard the
shouts and the tumult that came from
Baptiste's old house. He turned into
the little street on which it stood and
saw it in front of him, with the higher
bulk of the mill beyond.
The shades of Baptiste's cabin were
drawn, and the lamplight from within
threw the shadows Of the lumbermen
upon them in grotesque attitudes Hill
airy could see through the open door
that the place was packed to suffoca-
ton. There was no room to dance;
but there was to be no dance that
night.
A group of men, chattering upon the
porch, ceased their conversation as Hill
airy assembled the three steps. and
nudged one another. One of them
broke into loud, drunken laughter Hill
airy hardly heard them. He strobe into
the saloon and stood within the door,
way.
CHAPTER TX.