Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1920-01-31
CHAPTER xxI-Continued.

who had been one of the discoveries.
l don't know how much Carson paid
Louis, but meant to demand half. !
thought he had the money in his
pocket.
81 followed him all that afternoon
| after he had left Carson's office. l
watched him in the street. At night
he went to a room sOmewhere-at the
top of a tall building. 1 followed him.
When I got in found a woman there.
Louis was talking 10 her and threaten
Ing her. He said she was his wife.
How could she be his wife when he
had married JacqueIine Duchaine?
81 didn't care-it was no business
of mine. | couldn't see them, because
there was a curtain in the way. There
was no light In the bedroom. There
was q light in the room in which |
was. I put 1t out, so that neither of
them should see my face. She might
have betrayed me, you know. Simon.
"He spun round when the light went
out, and pushed the curtain aside. L
was waiting for that. had calculated
my blow. ! stabbed him. 1t was n
good blow, though it was delivered in
the dark. He only cried out once. But
the woman screamed and. a dog flew
at ME, and I couldn't find, his money.
So l ran away.
"And then there were only three of
us who knew the secret. Then Simon
died and there were only two, and now
there are only Hewlett and l, and he
is dead, poor fool, and have my gold
here. For Gods sake give me knife.
Simon"
His fingers tore at my sleeve in his
last agony, and 1 was tempted sorely.
And 1t was his own knife that l had.
The irony of 1t!
He muttered once or twice and cried
out in fear Of the man whom he had
slain. I heard him gasp a little later.
Then the handrf fell from my sleeve.
And after that there was no further
sound.
PAUL."
1t was the merest whisper from the
wall. 1 thought it was a trick of my
own mind. 1 dared not hope.
PAUL Dearestw
This was no fancy born of de-
1irious brain and the thick fumes of
dynamite. 1t came from the wall a
little way ahead of me. / crawled the
three feet that the little cave afforded
and put my hands upon the rock, feel
ing its surface inch by inch. There
was crcvice there, not large enough
to have permitted bird to pass-the
merest assure.
"Jacquelinel Is that you, dear" l
caIs.d. "You are not hurt, Jacqueline?"
Il am lying where you left me, dear.
Paul, II heard"
"You heard" 1 answered DULY.
What did IL matter now?
"Why didn't you tell me, PauI7 But
never mind. I am so glad, dearest
Can you come through to meT
struggled to tear the rocks away
I beat and bruised my hands In vain
against them.
81 will come when 1t grows light,
Jacqueline," I babbled. "When it
grows light!"
She did not know that 1t would never
grow light for me. Again I flung my
self against the walls of my prison,
battering at them till the blood dripped
from my hands. Again and again
flung myself down hopelessly, and
then 1 tried again, cIutching at every
fragment that protruded into the cave.
And at last. when my despair had
mastered met grew light.
For q sunbeam shot like a finger
through the crevice and quivered upon
the floor of the cave. And overhead,
where / had never thought to seek,
where / had thought three hundred
feet of eternal rock pressed down on
me, I saw the CULVER of day through
half dozen feet of tight-packed debris
from the glaciers mouth.
/ raised myself and tore at 1t and
sent it flying. thrust my hands among
the stones and tore them down like
the tiles from rotten roof.
heard a shout; hands were reached
down to me and pulled me up. and ]
was on my feet upon a hillside, look
ing into the keen eyes of Pere Antoine
and the face of the Indian squaw.
And the Eskimo dog was barking at
my side.
Only one thing married the happi-
ness of our reunion. and that was the
loss of Jacquelines father.
We had talked much over what had
happened, and ten days later, when
Jacqueline had recovered from the
shock and from what proved to be,
after all, only a fesh-wound. we had
old priest.
The charge of dynamite which La.
croix had set exploded, as it happened.
beneath that part which buttressed the
entire structure, and combining with
the pressure of the glacier above, had
thrown the mountain on its side, fill
ing the lake with several million tons
of ice and obliterating all traces of the
chateau, which lay buried beneath its
waters.
That was Pere Antoine's explana-
ton, and we realized at once that ii
was useless to search for Charles Du-
chaine. The whole aspect Of the re-
gion had been changed; there was
neither glacier nor cataract, and the
lake, swollen to twice its size and