STORY OF EARLY
! SYNOPSIS.
j ,. - - 12 "
dele la Chesnayne, a belle of New
nee, is forced Into marriage with
nmlss&ire Casslon, henchman of
veraor La Barre, who Is plotting to
t La Salle and his garrison from the
mtier Fort St. LouIb, on the Illinois
er. Adele had overheard the plotters
r she had Inherited a great fortune
m her father and they had kept It
m her. La Barre and Casslon learned
the girl's knowledge thus the mar
Ke and the hurried departure of Cas
n and a company for Fort St, Louis.
bride refuses to share sleeping
arters with her husband. She has
,t one friend, young Rene d'Artlgny,
i guide. He is chary of helping her.
evet, the girl's uncle, one of the par
Is found murdered. A fierce storm
tters and wrecks the boats. Adele is
cued by D'Artlgny. They learn they
thought one another guilty of
evet's murder. Adele loves her res
r. They hide from a search party and
in a new found friend, Barbeau, pro
jid overland toward Fort St. Louis.
Madame Casslon owes her life
to D'Artlgny. She Is now in his
hands. She loves him. She has
a high sense of honor and obli
gation. Will hr conscience
force her to go on to the fort,
where her husband Is. and tell
j him she thinks her real lover
i my be a murderer giving her
j reason for the belief? In this
Installment the author gives a
at the very time her life Is in
grave danger.
J CHAPTER XV Continued.
tfladame Casslon, D'Artlgny and
rbeau are making their way In ca
fe and on foot to Fort St. Louis.
il -was but a girl in years, excitement
Jis still to me a delight, and I had
Jtened to so many tales, romantic,
jmderful, of this wilderness fortress,
rched upon a rock, that my vivid
pagination had weaved about It an
nosphere of marvel. The beauty of
ivlew from its palisades, the vast
jncourse of Indians encamped on the
jiins below, and those men guarding
I safety the faithful comrades of
I Jgalle-ln explorations of the un
jown, De Tonty, Bolsrondet, and all
J? others, had long since become to
f mind the Incarnation of romantic
venture. Wilderness born, I could
tnprehend and appreciate their tolls
?d dangers, and my dreams centered
out this great, lonely rock, on -which
?y had established a home. But the
Id was not yet. Just below the con
lence of the rivers there was a vil
Ve of the Tamaroas, and the prow
our canoe touched the bank, while
JArtlgny stepped ashore amid a
hgle of low-growing bushes, that he
jght have speech with some of the
Sriors, and thus learn conditions at
Jfort. With his foot on the bank.
turned laughing, and held out his
Vid to me.
CCbme, madame," he said, pleasant
"you have never seen a village of
western tribes; it will interest
Joined him gladly, my limbs feel
i awkward under me, from long
imping In the loat, yet the climb
s not difficult, and he held back the
ughs to give me easy passage. Be
nd the fringe of brush there was an
?n space, but as we reached this.
lb paused, stricken dumb by horror
j the sight which met our view. The
onnd before us was strewn with
idand mutilated bodies, and was
ick with ashes where the tepees had
en burned, and their contents seat
ed broadcast.
iMever before had I seen such view
devastation, of relentless, savage
lielty, and I gave utterance to a sud-
sob, and shrank back against
Artigny's arm, hiding my eyes with
k .hand. He stood and stared, mo-
aless, breathing heavily, uucon-
ously gripping my arm.
Mon Dieu!" he burst forth, at last.
Vhat meaneth this? Are the wolves
aiD loose in the valley?"
Ith concealed behind a fringe of
Vvea, his whole manner alert, every
fsrtlnct of the woodsman Instantly
yakened.
'Remain here hidden," he whls-
red, "until I learn the truth; we
ay face grave peril below."
!lle , left me trembling and whlte
jped, yet I made no effort to re
train him. The horror of those dead
Idles gripped me, but I would not
ive him know the terror which held
V captive. With utmost caution he
r-pt forth, and I lay in the shadow
1 the , covert, watching his moYP-
nts. Body after body hp.
oached, seeVs,
! able
M)ALL
COPyHlOIT
"The Iroquois," I echoed incredu
lous", for that name was the terror of
my childhood. "How came these sav
ages so far to the westward?"
"Their war parties . range to the
great river," he answered. "We fol
lowed their bloody trail when first we
came to this valley. It was to gain
protection from these raiders that the
Algonquins gathered about the fort.
We fought the fiends twice, and drove
them back, yet now they are here
again. Come, Adele, we must return
to the canoe, and consult with Bar
beau. He has seen much of Indian
war."
The canoe rode close in under the
bank, Barbeau holding it with grasp
on a great root He must have read
in our faces some message of alarm,
for he exclaimed before either of us
could speak:
"What is it the Iroquois r
"Yes; why did you guess that?"
"I have seen signs for an hour past
which made me fear this might be
true. That was why I held the boat
so close to the bank. The village has
been attacked?"
"Ay, surprised and massacred; the
ground Is covered with the dead, and
The Ground Before Us Was Strewn
With Dead.
the tepees are burned. Madame is
half crazed with the shock."
Barbeau took no heed, his eyes
scarce glancing at me, so eager was
he to learn details.
"The fiends were in force, then?"
"Their moccasin tracks were every
where. I could not be sure where
they entered the village, but they left
by way of the Fox. I counted on the
sand the imprint of ten canoes."
"Deep and broad?"
"Ay, war boats; 'tis likely some of
them would hold twenty warriors; the
beasts are here in force."
It was nil so still, so peaceful about
us that I felt dazed, incapable of com
prehending oxir great danger. The
river swept past, its waters murmur
ing gently, and the wooded banks
were cool and green. Not a sound
awoke the echoes, and the horror I
had just witnessed seemed almost a
dream.
"Where are they now?" I questioned
faintly, "nave they gone back . to
their own country?"
"Small hope of that," answered
D'Artigny, "or we would have met
with them before this, or other signs
of their passage. They are below,
either at the fort, or planning attack
or the Indian villages beyond. What
think you, Barbeau?"
"I have never been here," he said
slowly, "so cannot tell what chance
the red devils might have against the
white men at St. Louis. But they are
below us on the river, no doubt of
that.. and engaged in some hell act. I
know the Iroquois, and how they con
duct war. Twill be well for us to
think it all out with care before we
venture farther. Come, D'Artlgn
tell me what you know Is tb
one to be defended aga
raiders?'
"Tis strong
and apn
Given
ri
9
4j ACAvaVRo CO
longer in command. They are here
to sweep the French out of this Illi
nois country, and have given no warn
ing. They surprised the Indian vil
lages first, killed every Algonquin
they could find, and are now besieging
the Rock. And what have they to op
pose them? More than they thought,
no doubt, for Casslon and De la Du
rantaye must have reached there safe
ly, yet at the best, the white defend
ers will scarcely number fifty men,
and quarreling among themselves like
mad dogs. There is but one thing for
us to do, Barbeau-reach the fort."
"Ay,, but how? There will be death
now, haunting us every foot of the
way." -
D'Artigny turned his head, and his
eyes met mine questloningly.
"There is a passage I know,-" ho
said gravely, "below the south banks
yonder, but there will be peril in it
peril to which I dread to expose the
lady." "
I stood erect, no longer paralyzed
by fear, realizing my duty.
"Do not hesitate because it me,
monsieur," I Baid calmly. ' "French
women have always done their part,
and I shall not fail. Explain to us
your plan."
CHAPTER XVI.
The Words of Love.
His eyes brightened, and his hand
sought mine.
"The spirit .of the old days; the
words of a soldier's daughter, hey,
Barbeau?"
"A La Chesnayns could make no
other choice," he answered loyally.
"But we have no time to waste here
in compliment. You know a safe pas
sage, you say?"
"Not a safe one, yet a trail which
may still remain open, for it Is known
to but few. Let us aboard, and cross
to the opposite shore, where we will
hide the canoe, and make our way
through the forest. Once safely afoot
yonder, I will make ny purpose clear."
A dozen strokes landed us on the
other bank, where the canoe was
drawn up, and concealed among the
bushes, while we descended a slight
declivity, and found ourselves in the
silence of a great wood. Here D'Ar
tigny pausd to make certain his
sense of direction.
"I will go forward slightly in ad
vance," he said, at last, evidently- hav
ing determined upon his course.
"And we will more slowly,' and as
noiselessly as possible. No one ever
knows where the enemy are to be met
with in Indian campaign, and we are
without arms, except for Barbeau'a
gun."
"I retain my pistol." I interrupted.
"Of small value since its Immersion
in the lake; as to myself. I must tru?t
to my knife. Madame, you will fol
low me, but merely close enough to
make sure of your course through the
woods, while Barbeau will guard the
rear. Are both roadv?"
"Ferhaps it might be well to explain
more clearly what you propose," said
the soldier, "Then if we become sep
arated, we could figure out the proper
direction to follow."
"Not a bad thought, that. It is a
rough road ahead, heavily wooded,
and across broken land. My route is
almost directly west, except that we
bear slightly south to keep well away
from the river. Three leagues will
bring us to a small stream which
empties Into the Illinois. There Is a
faint trail along its eastern bank,
which leads to the Rock, where it is
possible for one knowing the way to
attain the palisades of the fort. If
we can attain this trail before dark
we can make the remaining distance
by night Here, let me show you,"
and he drew with a sharp stick a
hasty map on the ground. "Now you
understand;' if we become separated,
keep steadily westward until you
reach a stream flowing north."
In this order we took up the march,
and as I had nothing to bear except a
blanket, which I twjsted about my
shoulders, I found little difficulty in
following my leajiUJrst the un
derbrush ffa-r srnund
very brn,
0 gzt
you anything of Indian tepees across
the stream to the left?"
"Below, there are. .wigwams there.
Just in the edge of the grove. You
can see the outlines from here; but
I make out no moving figures."
"Deserted then; the cowards have
run away. They could not have been
attacked, or the tepees would have
been burned."
"An Algonquin village?"
"Mlamis. I had hoped we might
gain , assistance, there, but they have
either joined the whites In the fort
or are hiding in the woods. Tla evi
dent we must save ourselves."
"And how far is It?"
"To the fort? A league or two, and
a rough climb at the farther end
through the dark.' We will wait here
until after dusk, eat such food as we
have without fire, and rest up for, a
bit of venture. The next trip will
test us all, and madame is weary
enough already."
"An hour will put me right." I said,
smiling at him, yet making no attempt
to rise. " "I have been in a boat so
long I have lost all strength In my
limbs."
"We feel that, all of us," cheerily,
"but come, Barbeau, unpack, and let
us have what cheer we can."
I know not when food was ever
more welcome, although it was simple
enough to be' sure a bit of hard
cracker, and some Jerked deer meat,
washed down by water from the
stream yet hunger served to make
these welcome. The loneliness and
peril of our situation had tendency to
keep us silent, although D'Artigny en
deavored to cheer me with kindly
speech, and gave Barbeau careful de
scription of the trail leading to th?
fort gate. If aught happened to him.
we wer to press on until we attained
shelter. The way In which the words
were said brought a lump Into my
throat, and before r- knew the, signifi
cance of the action, my hand clasped
his. I felt the grip of his fingers, and
saw his face turn toward me in the
dusk. Barhpau got to his fee;t gun
In hand, and Btood shading his eyes.
"I would like a closer view of that
village yonder," he said, "and will go
down the bank a hundred yards or
so."
"'Twill do no harm," returned
D'Artlgny, still clasping my hand.
"There Is time yet before we make
our venture."
He disappeared in the shadows,
leaving us alone, and I glanced aside
at D'Artigny's face, my heart beating
fiercely.
"You did not like to hear mo speak
as I did?" he questioned quietly.
"No," I answered honestly, "the
thought startled me. If if anything
happened to you, I I should be all
alone."
ne bent lower, still grasping my
fingers, and seeking to compel my eyes
to meet his.
"Adele," he whispered, "why is it
necessary for us to keep up this mas
querade?" "What masquerade, monsieur?"
"This pretense at mere friendship,"
he insisted, "when we could serve
each other better by a frank confes
sion of the truth. You love me "
"Monsieur," and I tried to draw my
hand away. "I am the wife of Fran
cols Casslon."
"I care nothing for that unholy al
liance. You are his only by form.
Wmmim- mm
jSfeeAtTv r e:& -''Mi rMimi
I Found Little Difficulty In Following
My Leader.
at that marriage has
"er since we left
mpw I dare not
V?e he was
crossed
years ago at that convent In Quebec.
I dreamed of you In the wilderness. In
the canoe on the great river, and here
at St. Louis. - Never dld voyageur go
eastward but I asked him to bring me
word from you, and each one bore
from me a message of greeting."
"I received none, monsieur."
"I know that; even Sleur de la Salle
failed to learn your dwelling place.
Yet when he finally chose me as his
comrade on this last Journey, while I
would have followed him gladly even
to 'death, the one hope which held me
to the hardships of the trail was the
chance thus given of seeking you my
self. r . .r
"You know the rest -I have made
the whole Journey; I have borne. in
sult, the charge of crime, merely that
I might remain, and serve you. - Why
do I say this? Because tonight If
"You Make It a Trial Test."
we succeed In getting through the In
dian lines I shall be again among my
old comrades, and shall be no longer
a servant to Francois Casslon. I shall
stand before him a1 man, an equal,
ready to prove myself with the
steel"
"No, monsieur," I burst forth, "that
must not be; for my sake you will not
quarrel!"
"For your sake? You would have
me spare him?"
"Oh, why do you put it thus, mon
sieur! It Is so hard for me to ex
plain. You say you love me," and
and the words bring me Joy. Ay, I con
fess that. But do you not see that a
blow from your hand struck at Fran
cois Casslon would separate us for
ever? Surely that is not the end you
seek. I would not have you bear af
front longer, yet no open quarrel will
serve to better our affairs, Certainly
no clash of swords. Perhaps it can
not be avoided, for Casslon may so
insult you when he sees us together,
as to let his insolence go beyond re
straint. But I beg of you, monsieur,
to hold your hanjj, to restrain your
temper for my sake."
"You make it a trial, a test?"
"Yes It is a test. But monsieur,
there is more involved here than mere
happiness. You must be cleared of
the charge of crime, and I must learn
the . truth of what caused my mar
riage. Without these facts the future
can hold out no hope for either of us.
And there Is only one way in which
this end can be accomplished a con
fession by Casslon. He alone knows
the entire story of the conspiracy, and
there is but one way in which he can
be Induced to talk."
"You mean the same method you
proposed to me back on the Ottawa?"
I faced him frankly, my eyes meet
ing his, no shade of hesitation in my
voice.
"Yes, monsieur, I mean that. You
refused me before, but I see no harm,
no wrong In the suggestion If the
men we fought were honorable I
might hesitate but they have shown
no sense of honor. They have made me
their victim; and I am fully justified in
turning their own weapons against
them. I have never hesitated in my pur
pose, and I shall not now. I shall use
the weapons which God has put into
my hands to wring from him the bitter
truth the weapons of a woman, Ioe,
and jealousy. Monslsur, am I to ficht
this fight alone?" -.
At first I thought he would not an
swer me, although his handgrip tight
ened, and his eyes looked down into
mine, as though he would read the
very secret of my heart.
"Perhaps I did pot understand be
fore," he said at last "all that was
involved in your decision. I must
know now the truth from your owu
lips before I pledge myself.";
"Ask me what you please; 1 am not
proud to answer."
I think there must be back of this
ice of yours timethlng more vital
ate, more Impelling than re-
moosieur."
lvou what?"
and I feel no shame
Nlove you! Is that
H'leart "
iie:
yl, "not now
r."
.... .&
tyou thinK &
TP should
ib!e to
teCNffllONAL
MOOL
(By B. O. SELLERS, Acting Director of
the Sunday School Course of the Moody
Bible Institute, Chicago.) -
(Copyright, 1918, Wuttra Newspaper Union.
LESSON FOR SEPT. 3
PAUL, THE HERO.
LESSON TEXT II Cor. 11:21-12:10.
GOLDEN TEXT My grace is sufficient
for' thee; for my power is made perfect
in weakness. U Cor. 12:9.
' ' J
This letter raises interesting ques
tions for research 'and discussion, such
as:
1. What is the difference between
Paul's heroism and that of a soldier?
2. Is war essentl&l to the development
of heroism? 3. Which courage is high
er, moral or physical?
I.Paul, the Hero (11 :21-22). To a man
of a sensitive nature, craving perfec
tion, sarcasm ' stirs up the deepest bit
terness of the soul. We do not believe
Paul primarily desired to refuse these
false charges they were unworthy of
him but the knowledge of his suffer
ings for the cause of Christ and the
truth of the gospel would augment his
power to serve the church. For the
sake of those whom he had reclaimed
from heathenism he was willing to
seem to be boasting. Literally he
says : "I speak by way of disparage
ment (of myself) as though we had
been weak," yet he adds : "Whereinso
ever any Is bold, I am bold also." Paul
had as much to boast of as any one
of his Jewish opponents (v. 21). "Are
they Hebrews? (Of the purest blood.
of one nation and language?) So am
I." ' Are they Israelites, worshiping
only one God? Are they of the seed of
Abraham, inheritors of the ministry of
the promise and the Messianic hope
and the kingdom of God? Are they
ministers of the Messiah, seeking to
bring all men into his kingdom? "I
speak as a fool. I speak as one beside
himself. I am more." In labors he
was more abundant ; he had occupied
a larger field with greater results. In
stripes above measure those inflicted
by the heathen ' were not limited to
forty blows besides other beatings re
ferred to In this list. In prisons oft '
(Acts 16:23). Frequently exposed to
death and to the perils of robbers by
land and sea (v. 24). "Five times I
received forty stripes, save one, from
the Jews" (v. 25). "Thrice was I
beaten with rods; once was I stoned"
(Acts. 14:19). "Thrice I suffered ship
wreck," evidently not recorded in Acts,
for his shipwreck on the way to Rome
was later. . "A night and a day in the
deep," this not otherwise recorded.
"In journeyings often," suffering from
the perils of hard travel, often on foot
In uncivilized regloasi. "In perils of
water," literally "In rivers." -Bridges
were rare, and floods sudden and fre-
quent. "In perils of robbers." Every
road in Asia Minor then as now was
Infested with robbers. - "In perils ot
his own countrymen;" "In perils by
the Gentiles ;" "In perils in the city ;"
"In perils In the wilderness ;" "In per
ils in the sea" from storms, rocks, pi
tates; "In perils among false breth
ren" Judalsing teachers who were
self-seeking instead of making the gos
pel first (Gal. 2 :4 ; II Cor., 11 :13). "In
weariness and painfuiness," literally in
tabor and travail; "In watchlngs oft
en;" repeated nights of sleeplessness
due to anxiety or pain. "In hunger and
thirst, in fastings often," hunger un
satisfied for a long time. "In cold and :
nakedness ;" -in - the mountain passes
badly shod and badly clothed. Besides
these things which were without, in
numerable other trials such as the
eare of or anxiety over the churches
(vv. 32, S3).
II. God's Sustaining Grace (12:1-10).
To Paul God gave on of the greatest
tasks over committed to man, viz., the
planting of the gospel in heathen
lands; founding churches; teaching
them the gospel trutlw of the Lord Je
sus. He wrote to these churches two
fifths of the .New Testament, thirteen
of Its twenty-seven books, and this
work was accomplished under the
Ecreatest difficulty, trials and suffering.
To sustain and guide, the Lord gave
him "visions and revelations" (v. 1).
These revelations came to him from
the very beginning of his Christian life
and continued in every great crisis.
The first was given at his conversion,
twenty years- before this letter was .
written, when he saw Jesus in His
glory and received his marching or
ders. Again (vv. 2-4), fourteen years
before, or about A. D. 43, when he was
In Antloch and first entered upon his
foreign missionary work. He obtained
his gospel directly f roaa the Lord. Sub
sequently he had other visions to sus
tain and guide him. '
Teachers ought to tudy this entire
section, beginning at chapter 10. - Taul
says that as an apostle ho did not la
bor In the fields of others (10:14-15).
He was not much concerned by wha
his enemies might say.
As to his opinion of them, read
chapter 10. Ashamed to boast. yet fr
thtlr sakes he meets their foolish
charges by giving us this record.
Because of these sufferings (v. 10) he
takes pleasure In infirmities, reproach
es and persecutions; "For when I am
weak" (In my own strength) then I
am strong through Christ who
strengthens rne." "
He may be a fool Jn glorying, com
pelled to as he had been, yet his work
had been accompanied by the signs of
an apostle, and he was not to be be
hind the very ehiefet, although him
self he was nothing. '
Lesson