The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1923-04-09
Alice of Old Vincennes
By Maurice Thompson
COPYRIGHT, 1908 BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON
Thomson

to harm any person. not an open,
armed enemy. in this town"
Hamilton's gorge rose perversely.
He erected himself with lofty reserve
and folded his arms. The dignity OF
a lieutenant governor 1eaped into him
and took control. Father Beret cor
rectly interpreted what he saw.
MY people have borne much" he
said, "and the killing Of that poor
child there Will be awfully avenged
if I but say the word. Besides, I
can turn every Indian in this wilder
ness against you in a single day. You
are indeed at my mercy, and will
be merciful If you will satisfy my de-
mand."
He was trembling with emotion
while he spoke and the desire 20 kill
the man before him was making a
frightful struggle with his priestly
conscience; but conscience had the up
ner hand. Hamilton stood gazing
fixedly, pale as a ghost, his thoughts
becoming more and more clear ano
logical. He was in a bad situation.
Every word that Father Beret had
spozeG was true and went home with
force. There was no time for parley
or subterfuge; the sword looked as If,
eager to find his heart, it could not
be held back another moment. But
the wan, cold face of the girl had
more power than the rapiers hungry
point 1t made an abject coward of
him.
L am willing to give you my
word" he presently said. And let
nae tell you" he went on more rap
idly, L did not shoot at her. She was
behind you
Your word as a British officer"
Hamilton again stiffened and hes
itated, but only for the briefest space.
then said:
Yes, my word as a British officer"
Father Beret waved his hand with
Impotence.
Go, then, back to your place in
the fort and disturb my people no
more. The soul Of this poor little
girl will haunt you forever. Co.
Hamilton stood a little while gazing
at the face of Alice with the hor-
rible usefulness of remorse. What
would he not have given to rub his
eyes and find it all a dream!
He turned away; cloud scudded
across the moon; here and yonder in
the dim town cocks crOwed with a
lonesome, desultory effect.
Father Beret plucked UP the rapier
that he had wrenched from Hamil-
toms hand 1t suggested something.
"Hold,' he called out, give me the
scabbard Of this swordg'
Hamilton, who was striding Wig
orousIy in the direction IF the fort,
turned about as the priest FASTENED
to him.
Give me the scabbard Of this "a
pier: = want it. Take it off"
The command was not gently
voiced A hoarse, half-whisper
winged every word with an imperious
threat.
Hamilton obeyed. His hands were
not firm; his fingers fumbled nerv-
ously: but he hurried. and Father
Beret soon had the tapier sheathed and
secured at his belt beside It's mate.
A good and true priest IS a burden
bearer. His motto is: Alter aIterius
onera portate' Dear ye one another's
burdeusl. His soul IS enriched with
The cast-off sorrows Of those whom
he relieves. Father Beret scaI cely
felt the weight Of Alice's body when
lie lifted it from the ground, so heavy
was the pressure Of his grief All
that her death meant. not only 10
him, but 70 every person who knew
her. came into his heart as the Ilace
III
ing Of pain. He lifted her and bore
her as far toward Roussnlon place as
he could. but his strength fell short
just in front Of the little Bow cier
cottage, and half-dead he staggered
across the veranda to the door, where
he sank exhausted.
After a breathing spell he knocked.
The household, fast asleep, did not
hear; but he persisted until the door
was opened to him and his burden.
Captain Farnsworth Enclosed his
bloodshot eyes, at about s o'clock in
the morning, quite confused as to his
place and surroundings. He looked
about drOwsily with a sheepish half
knowledge Of having been very drunk.
\ purring in his head and a dull ache
reminded him of an abused stomach.
He yawned and stretched himself,
then sat up. running a hand through
his tousled hair. Father Beret was
on his knees before the cross, still as
statue, his clasped hands extended
upward.
Farnsworths face lighted with
recognition. and he smiled rather
bitterly. He called everything and felt
ashamed. Inundated, self-debased. He
had outraged even q priests hospi-
tally with his british appetite, and
he hated himself for it. Disgust nau.
| seated his soul apace with the phys
cal sinking and squirming that grew
upon him.
I'm a shabby, worthless dog!' he
muttered, with petulant accent: why
don't you kick me out, Father"
The priest turned a collapsed and
bloodless gray face upon him. smiled
In a tired. perfunctory way, crossed
himself absently and said:
You have rested well, my Son. Hard
as the bed IS. you have done it a com
pliment in the way Of sleeping. You
young soldiers understand how to get
the most out of things"
You are too generous, Father, and
I cant appreciate it. l know what ]
deserve, and you know It, too. Tell
me what brute and fool am; It will
do me good. Punch me a solid Jolt
| in the ribs, like the one you gave me