rm
A STORY OF EARIXD
SYNOPSIS.
Kdele la Chesnayne. a belle of New
ance, la among conspirators at ner tin
's house, Cas8lon, the commlssalre,
nllsted her Uncle Chevet's aid
alnst La Salle. D'Artiffny. La Salle's
end. offers his services as srulde to Cas-
tu'a party on the Journey to the wllder-
ss. The uncle informs Adeie mat ne
a betrothed her to Casslon and forbids
r to see D'Artigny again. In Quebec
lele visits her friend. Sister Celeste,
So brings D'Artlgny to her. She tells
i her story and he vows to release her
30m the bargain with Casslon. D'Artlg
! leaves promising to see her at the
ance. Casslon escorts Adele to the hall.
lie meets the governor. La Barre. and
ars him warn the eommissaire against
Artisrnv. D'Artlgny"s ticket to the ball
lis been recalled, but he gains entrance
if the window. Adele Informs him of the
wernor's words to Casslon. ' For her
ivesdropplng at the bait Adele Is ordered
f the governor to marry Casslon at once
id to accompany him to the Illinois
Hmtry. He summons Chevet and directs
iat he attend them on the journey. They
ave In the boats. Adele's future depend-
htc on the decision of D'Artigny whom
ie now knows she loves. Casslon ana
'Artierny have words. Uncle Chevet for
ie first time hears that his niece Is an
elress. and besrins to suspect Casslon's
fiotlves. Adele refuses to permit her hus-
and to share her sleeping quarters,
hevet agrees to help her.
Madame Cassion, loathing the
husband who got her by fraud
and threat, feels certain that
he has a true confederate an
ally ready to do her bidding
in Rene D'Artigny. But disap
pointment piles , upon her. In
a crisis she learns she must
fight alone. How she resolves
to win against all odds and get
revenge is described In stirring
manner In this Installment.
CHAPTER IX Continued.
Leaning far out. grasping a branch
io keen from falling, I distinguished
the canoe at the upper landing, and the
jlndians busily preparing camp. At
first I saw nothing of any white man,
Jbut was gazing still when D'Artigny
emerged from some shadow and
'stepped down besjde the boat. I know
jnot what instinct prompted him to
turn and look up intently at the bluff
towering above. I scarcely compre
hended either what swift impulse led
mo to undo the neckerchief at my
throat and hold it forth in signal. An
inrtant he stared upward, shading his
eyes with one hand.
I must have seemed a vision cling
ing there against the sky, yet all at
once the truth burst upon him, and,
with a wave of the arm, he sprang
up the low bank and Joined his In
dia as. I could not hear what he said,
but with a single word he left them
and disappeared among the trees at
Ithf foot of the bluff.
1 fit must have scrambled straieht up
the steep face of the bluff, for it could
have been scarcely more than a min
ute when I heard him crunching a pas
sage through the bushes, and then
saw liim emerge above the edge. Cling
ing to a tree limb, his eyes sought
eagerly to locate me, and when I
stepped forward, he sprang erect and
bowed, jerking his hat from his head.
There was about his action the en
thusiasm of a boy, and his face glowed
with an eagerness and delight which
instantly broke down every barrier
between us.
"You wared to me?" he exclaimed.
"You wished me to come?"
"Yes," I confessed, swept from my
gu:trd by his enthusiasm. "I have
leen anxious to confer with you, and
his is my first opportunity."
"Why I thought you avoided me,"
he burst forth. "It la because I elt
so that I have kept away."
"There was nothing else I could do
but pretend," I exclaimed, gaining
control over my voice as I spoke. "My
every movement has been watched
since we left Quebec; this is the first
m&ment I have been left alone if,
indeed, I am now." And I glanced
about doubtfully into the shadows of
the forest.
"You imagine you may have been
followed here? By whom? Casslon?"
"By himself or some emissary 1 .Pere
Al'ouez has been my jailer, 'ibut
chances to be disabled at present. The
conmissaire permitted me to cllintr-
hete alone, believing you to be safely
camped above the rapids, yet his sus
picions may easily revive."
"Ills suspicions'." the sieur laughed
softly. "So that then is the trouble?
It is to keep us apart that he bids me
make separate camp each night; and
assigns me to every post of peril. I
feel the honor, mademoiselle, yet why
ati I especially, singled out for so
great a distinction?" t
"He 'suspects us of being friends.
He knew I conferred with you at the
convent, and even believes that you
were with hidden behind the cur
tnlxt in the governor's ofSce." 'J
"Yet if nil' that be true,' lie quc j
t "nedrhis voice evidencing his su
; : : . "Why should our friends!.
: vise his antagonism-. tor such aj tf
X ut? I cannot understand what cri .
I have- committed, mademoiselle. I
oil mystery, ctaxi why you phov
l - here with m on tliia long jourm
'i:ro!y you hft' no such thought w
rt.-l last ?" -
j do not know what has (
I " :, in cnonishmVnS ' -
RANDALL
PADDISH
"Told me! How? I have scarcely
held speech with anyone but the Al
gonquin chief since we took to the
water. Cassion has but given orders,
and Chevet Is mum as an oyster. I
endeavored to find you In Montreal,
but you were safely locked behind
gray walls. That something was wrong
I felt convinced, yet what it might be
no one would tell me. I tried ques
tioning the pere, but he only shook
his head and left me unanswered.
Tell me then, mademoiselle, by what
right does this Casslon hold you as a
captive?" . . ' .
My lips trembled, and my eyes fell,
yet I must answer.
"He is my husband, monsieur."
I caught glimpse of his face, pic
turing surprise, incredulity. He drew
a sharp breath and I noted his hand
close tightly on the hilt of his knife.
'Your husbandl that cur! Surely
you do not jest?"
"Would that I did," I exclaimed,
losing all control in sudden wave of
anger. "No, monsieur, it is true."
And I told him swiftly the story of
my enforced marriage.
"And Hugo Chevet, your uncle? Did
he remain silent? make no protest?"
he asked.
I gave a gesture of despair.
"He! Never did he even conceive
what occurred, until I told him later
on the river. Even now I doubt if
his sluggish brain has grasped the
truth. To him the alliance was an
honor, an opening to possible wealth
in the fur trade through Casslon's In
fluence with La Barre. He could per
ceive nothing else except his good luck
in thus ridding himself of the care
of a poor niece who had been a sorry
burden."
"But you explained to him?"
"I tried to, but only to regret the
effort. Giant as he is physically, his
intellect is that of a big boy. All he
can conceive of is revenge a desire to
crush with his hands, ne hates Cas
sion, because the man has robbed him
of the use of my father's money; but
for my position he cares nothing. To
his mind the wrong has all been done
to him, and I fear he will brood over
it until he seeks revenge. If he does
he will ruin everything."
D'Artigny stood silent, evidently in
thought, endeavoring to grasp the
threads of my tale.
"now did you attain the summit of
this bluff?" he questioned at last.
"Yonder; there is a deer trail lead
ing down."
"And you fear Cassion may follow?"
"He will likely become suspicious
if I am long absent, and either seek
me himself or send one of his men.
This Is the first moment of freedom I
have experienced since we left Que
bec. I hardly know how to behave
myself."
"And we must guard it from being
the last," he exclaimed, a note of de
termination and leadership in his voice.
"There are questions I must ask, so
that we may work together in har
mony, but Cassion can never be al
lowed to suspect that we have com
munication. Let us go forward to
the end of the trail where you came
up; from there we can keep watch
below."
He still grasped my hand, and I had
no thought of withdrawing it. To me
he was a friend, loyal, trustworthy,
the one alone to whom I could con
fide. Together we clambered over
the rough rocks to where the narrow
cleft led downward.
CHAPTER X.
On the Summit of the Bluff.
Securely screened from observation
by the low growing bushes clinging
to the edge of the bluff, and yet with
a clear view of the cleft in the rocks
half way to the river, D'Artigny found
rne a seat on a hummock of grass, but
remained standing himself. The sua
was sinking- low, warning us that our
time was short, for with the first
coming of twilight I would certainly
be sought, if I failed to return to the
lower camp.
"You would question me, monsieur,"
SI. asked doubtfully. "It was for that
Yes," instantV aroused by. my
Mce but .rithJrv3 still scanning
the trail. iLS "Nis no time to
waste, If ""Sirt intelll
trentlv. Yl NL. before
the sun
sion mi
way.,
ance.'
of af"
thaf'
a y
en dared
O weakness; i would
T .1 . v . .
me.
,x now, and looked search
ny face, no glimpse of a
Vray eyes.
o not understand." he
spek his love?"
"A-i:Xp. u quea-
!
y-uiJ, i
I. Cut 1
I
TlTS J
tioning of my honesty, and swift in
dignation brought the answering
words to my lips.
"And why not pray! Must I not
defend myself and what other wea
pons are at hand? Do I owe Llm kind
ness; or tender consideration? The
man married me as he would buy a
slave."
"You may be Justified," he admitted
regretfully. "Yet how is this to be
done?"
I arose to my feet and stood before
him, my face uplifted, and, with one
hand, thrust aside the shade of my
hat
"Monsieur, deem you that impossi
ble?" His lips parted in a quick smile, re
vealing the white teeth, and he bowed
low, flinging his hat to the ground and
standing bareheaded.
"Mon dieu! No! Monsieur Cassion
is to be congratulated. Yet It was
my thought you said yonder that you
despised the man."
"I do; what reason have I to feel
otherwise? Yet there lies my strength
in this battle. He laughs at women,
plays with them, breaks their hearts.
It is his pride and fcpast, and his suc
cess in the past has ministered to his
self-conceit. He thought me of the
same kind, but has already had his
lesson. Do you not know what that
means to a man like him? More than
ever he will desire my favor. A week
back. he cared nothing; I was but a
plaything, awaiting his pleasure; his
wife to be treated as he pleased. lie
knows better now, and already his
eyes follow me as though he were
my dog."
"And that then is why you send
for me that I may play my part in
the game?"
I shrugged my shoulders, yet there
was doubt in my eyes as I faced him.
"Is there harm in such play, mon
sieur," 1 asked innocently, "with so
important an end in view? 'Tis not
that I seek amusement, but I must
find out where this king's pardon is
hidden, who concealed it, and obtain
proof of the fraud which compelled
my marriage. My only hope of re
lease lies in compelling Francois Cas
sion to confess all he knows of this
foul conspiracy. I must possess the
facts before we return to Quebec."
"But of what use?" he insisted.
"You will still remain his wife, and
your property will be In his control.
The church will hold you to the mar
riage contract."
"Not if I can establish the truth
that I was deceived, defrauded and
married by force. Once I have the
proofs in my hands I will appeal to
Louis to the pope for relief. These
"Yet You Would Make . Him Love
You?"
men thought me a helpless girl, friend
less and alone, ignorant of law, a mere
waif of the frontier. Terbaps I was,
but this experience has made of me
a woman. In Montreal I talked with
the mother superior and she told me
of a marriage in France where the
pere officiated under threat, and the
pope dissolved the ties. If it can be
e for others it shall be done for
.will not remain the wife of
ssion."
sould make him love
iffs slnd; ru-'pay-
has ruined. Ay!
Sliall not shrink from,
-Irtigny, even although you
el it unwomanly. I do not
m it so, nor hold myself immodest
for the effort. Why should I? I but
war against him with his own wea
pons, and my cause is just. And I
shall win, whether or not you give
me your aid. How can I fail, mon
sieur? I am young and not ill to look
upon; this you have already confessed;
here in this wilderness I am alone,
the only woman. He holds me his
wife by law, and yet knows he must
still win me. There are months of
loneliness before us, and he will not
look upon the face of another white
woman in all those leagues. Are there
any French of my sex at Fort St
Louis?"
"No."
"Nor at St Ignace, Pere Allouez
assures me. I shall have no rival
then in all this wilderness; you think
me harmless, monsieur? Look at me,
and say!"
"I do not need to look; you will
have your game. I have no doubt, al
though the final result may not prove
what you desire."
"You fear the end?"
"It may be so; you play with fire,
and although I know little of women,
yet I have felt the wild passions of
men In lands where there is no re
straint of law. The wilderness sees
many tragedies fierce, bitter, revenge
ful deeds and 'tis best you use care.
Tls my belief this Francois Cassion
might prove a devil, once his heart
was tricked, nave you thought of
this?"
I had thought of it, but with no
mercy in my heart, yet as D'Artigny
spoke I felt the ugliness of my threat
more acutely, and, for an instant,
stood before him white-lipped and
ashamed. Then before me arose Cas
slon's face, sarcastic, supercilious,
hateful, and I laughed In scorn of the
warning.
"Thought of it!" I exclaimed, "yes,
but for that I care nothing. Why
should I, monsieur? Has the man
shown mercy to me, that I should feel
regret because he suffers? As to his
revenge, death Is not more to be
dreaded than a lifetime passed in his
presence. But why do you make plea
on his behalf the man is surely no
friend of yours?"
"I make no plea for him." he an
swered, strangely sober, "and claim
no friendship. Any enemy to La Salle
is an enemy to Rene d'Artigny; but
I would front him as a man should.
It is not my nature to do a deed of
treachery."
"You hold tills treachery?"
"What else? You propose luring
him to love you, that you may gain
confession from his lips. To attain
this end you barter your honesty, your
womanhood; you take advantage of
your beauty to enslave him; you count
as ally the loneliness of the wilderness;
ay! and, if I understand aright you
hope through me to awaken the man's
jealousy. Is this not true?"
I drew a quick breath, my eyes star
ing into his face, and my limbs trem
bling. His words cut me like a knife,
yet I would not yield, would not even
acknowledge their truth.
"You are unjust, unfair," I burst
forth impetuously. "You will see but
the one side that of the man. I can
not fight this battle with my hands,
nor will I submit to such wrong with
out struggle. He has never thought to
spare me, and there is no reason why
I should show him mercy. I wish
your good will, monsieur, your respect,
but I cannot hold this plan which I
propose as evil. Do you?"
He hesitated, looking at me with
such perplexity in his eyes as to
prove his doubt
"I cannot judge you," he admitted
at last, "only that is not the way in
which I have been trained. Neither
will I stand between you and your
revenge nor have part in it. I am
your friend now, always. In every
honorable way I will serve you and
your cause. If Casslon dares violence
or insult he must reckon with me,
though I faced his whole company. I
pledge you this, but I will not play a
part or act a lie even at your re
quest." "You mean you will not pretend to
care for me?" I asked, my heart
leaden at his words.
"There would be no pretense," he
answered frankly. "I do care for you,
but I will not dishonor my thought of
you by thus deliberately scheming to
outwit your husband. I am a man of
the woods, the wilderness; not since I
was a boy have I dwelt in civilization,
but in all that time I have been com
panion of men to whom honor was
everything. I have been comrade with
Sieur de la Salle, with Henri de Tonty,
and cannot be guilty of an act of
treachery, even for your sake. Per
chance my code is not the same as the
perfumed gallants' of Quebec yet it Is
mine, and learned in a hard school."
He went on quietly, "There are two
things I cannot ignore one is, that
I am an employee of this Francois
Casslon, pledged to his service by my
own free will; the other is, that you
are his wifejoined to him by Holy
church, and although you may have
assumed those vows under coercion,
your promise is binding. I can but
choose my path of duty and abide
therein."
nis words hurt, angered me; I
lacked power of expression, ability to
grasp his full meaning and purpose.
"You you desert me then? You
you leave me to this fate?"
"I leave you to reconsider your
choice of action," he returned gravely,
his hat still in hand, his lips unsmiling.
"I do believe your womanhood will
find a better way to achieve Its lib
erty, but what that way is I must
trust you to discover. I am your
'ifivid, Adele, always you will be
lieve that?"
I did not answer; I could not he
cause of the choking in my throat, yet
I let him grasp my hand. Once I
raised iny eyes to hl but lowered
them instantly in strange confusion.
Here was a man I did not understand,
whose real motives I could not fathom.
His protest had not yet penetrated my
soul, and I felt toward him an odd
mixture of respect and anger. He
released my hand and turned away,
and I stood motionless as he crossed
the open space between the trees. At
the edge of the bluff he paused and
glanced about lifting his hat in ges
ture of farewell. T'fio not think 1
moved or made response, and an In
stant later he was gone.
I know not how long I stood there
staring into vacancy, haunted by re-'
gret, tortured by fear and humiliation.
Slowly all else crystallized into indig
nation, with a fierce resolve to fight
on alone. The sun sank, and all about
me clung the purple twilight, yet I
did not move. He had been unjust,
unfair; his simple code of the woods
could not be made to apply to such a
situation as this of mine.
I heard no sound of warning, yet as
I turned to retrace my way to the
camp below I became suddenly aware
of the presence of Casslon.
CHAPTER XI.
We Reach the Lake.
ne was between me and the deer
trail, and enough of daylight yet re
mained to enable me to perceive the
I Became Suddenly Aware of the Pre
ence of Cassion.
man clearly. How long he may have
been there observing me I could not
know, but when I first saw him he
was bent forward, apparently deeply
interested in some sudden discovery
upon the ground at his feet.
"You thought me long in Teturning,
monsieur?" I asked carelessly, and
taking a step toward him. "It was
cooler up here, and the view from the
bluff yonder beautiful. You may gain
some conception of it still, if yon
care."
He lifted his head with a jerk and
stared into my face.
"Ay! no doubt," he said harshly,
"yet I hardly think it was the view
which held you here so long. Whose
boot print is this, madame? not yours,
surely."
I glanced where he pointed, my
heart leaping, yet not altogether with
regret. The young sieur had left his
trail behind, and it would serve me
whether by his will or no.
"Certainly not mine," and I laughed.
"I trust, monsieur, your powers of ob
servation are better than that 'tis
hardly a compliment"
"Nor is this time for any lightness
of speech, my lady," he retorted, his
anger fanned by my indifference.
"Whose is it then, I ask you? What
man has been your companion here?"
"You jump at conclusions, mon
sieur," I returned cpldly. "The stray
imprint of a man's boot on the turf
is scarcely evidence that I have had
a companion. Kindly stand aside and
permit me to descend."
"Mon dieu! I will not!" and he
blocked my passage. "I have stood
enough of your tantrums already in
the boat. Now we are alone and I
will have my say. You shall remain
here until I learn the truth."
His rage rather amused me, and I
felt not the slightest emotion of fear,
although there was threat - in his
words and in the gesture accompany
ing them. I do not think the smile
even deserted my Hps, as I sought a
comfortable seat on a fallen tree
trunk, fully conscious that nothing
would so infuriate the man as studied
indifference.
"Very well, monsieur, I await your
investigation with pleasure," I said
sweetly. "No doubt it will prove in
teresting. You honor me with the sus
picion that I had an appointment here
with one of your men?"
"No matter what I suspicion."
"Of course not; you treat me with
marked consideration. Perchance oth
ers have camped here, and explored
these bluffs."
Now that he has his young
wife entirely alone on this hill,
do you believe that Commission
aire Cassion will break her will
and assert his power as hus
band? Can the girl thwart him?
(TO PCONTINUED.)
Liberal.
"Is your husband a very generous
man?"
"Indeed he is! You know those
cigars I gave him for his birthdayl
Well, he smoked only one of them him
self and gave all the rest to ,hia
friends."
Diplomatic.
"Why is Doctor Emdee so popular
with his lady patients?"
"He tells them all that they are too
young to die."
1
PETER'S
DENIAL
I
By REV. L, W. GOSNELL
Superintendent of Men, Moody Bible
Institute of Chicago
- - i I, , i - ij ij iZ-C-Z-- j-rZZr
TEXT And the Lord turned, and look
ed upon Peter. And Peter remembered"
tho word of the Lord, how he had Bald
unto him : Before the cock crow, thou
-.halt deny me thrice. And Peter went
out, and wept bitterly. Luke 2:61, 62.
Peter never forgot his denial.
Speaking to the Jews he says, "Ye
denied the holy
one and the just,"'
and In his second
epistle he refers
to those who de
nied the Lord
that bought them.
At the point
where he was sup
posed to be strong
est, he failed. He
is noted as the
confessor of
Christ, yet be
came his denier.
He was the brave
man who under
took to defend
Christ in the gar
den, yet he cowered before the ser
vants in the high priest's palace. He
was not In danger of being killed if
he had confessed Christ, but denied
him to save himself from being taunt
ed. And all this occurred on the same
night in which he had received the
bread and wine from the hands of his
master, and had submitted to having
his feet washed by him ! We are only
kept from chiding him because we are
reminded of our own failures and our
denials of Christ.
The Sin of Profanity.
Added to the sin of denial was that
of profanity, for we are told that he
began to curse and to swear, saying
he knew not the man. The sin of
profanity clings to n man, and the ten
dency sometimes appears even after
conversion. Many have failed at this
point, although delivered from other
sins. An old writer has pointed out
the' folly of it in these words: "The
devil tempts men through their ambi
tion, their cupidity, or their appetite,
until he comes to the profane swear
er, whom he clutches without any re
ward." There is a melancholy comfort
in the fact that Peter seemed to feel
they would not suspect him of being
a disciple if they should hear him
use profane language; the world ex
pects things of Christians.
Several elements enter into the
story of Peter's denial. First of all,
we notice his self-confidence. "If all
shall be offended in thee, I will never
be offended." Ills failure doubtless
revealed to him his weakness, and
was used of God" in bringing him to
a better mind. By such testings we
learn our own helplessness and are
driven to the strong one for strength,
in his epistle, Peter emphasizes the
value of meekness and godly fear.
"No Business With the Flunkies."
Another secret of Peter's failure is
found in the society he kept. Ha had
followed his Lord afar off, and when
he came into the palace, sat down
with the high priest's servants. As
an old Scotch woman said, "he had
no business with the flunkies." It is
difficult to maintain a Christian pro
fession even when we must be among
the ungodly, but there is great dan
ger when we choose them ftor our com
panions. Again, the element of surprise has
to be reckoned with. Peter would have
been brave in the garden in open con
flict with Christ's enemies, but he did
not expect to be assailed as he sat
by the fire that night. Earnest Chris
tians learn to dread temptations which
approach with the stealth of a ser
pent. The writer recalls the occasion
when he first saw a "sensitive plant,"
and remembers his surprise when it3
leaves withered at the approach of
his hand. If we are to escape better
than Peter did, our souls must be so
tender that the very approach of temp
tation will . cause them to shrink in
dread and hide themselves in Christ
Yet this man was restored even af
ter such a failure. There were four
6teps in hi6 restoration.
Steps Back to Christ.
First, there was the look of Christ.
After the crowing of the cock, we are
told the Lord turned and looked upon
Peter. "What a look of wounded love
that must have been ! Yet we should
not forget that the same sad, pierc
ing gaze is ttfrned upon us when we
grieve Christ.
Secondly, the Lord sent a special
message to Peter on the morning of
the resurrection (Mark 16:7).
Thirdly, he had a private interview
with this apostle on the day he arose
(Luke 24:34; I Cor. 15:5).
Finally, when he appeared to the
seven on the shore of the Sea of Gali
lee, he reinstated Peter most fully.
The story is told in John 21, and is
worthy of carefal perusal. Three
times the Lord asked him if he loved
him, and the apostle had thrice denied,'
so he was allowed to confess him thretj
times. Poor Peter might have thought
he would never again be Intrusted
with responsibility, but three times
the Lord bade him feed his flock. As
a climax, this man who had said he
would follow Christ to death, but had
failed so shamefully, was told he
would, after all, have the privilege of
dying for his Lord. What comfort
here for the backslider! With what
Tjiew meaning may we sing, "He re
etoreth my soul."
yiy