The evening world. Newspaper, February 29, 1916, Page 17

fg Ree a So peerpe oe Sie ‘Colon! jiving a fies Se astes’ Coe eer eae fae Artigny is sion offers to jet igh alae" ‘with the suspected man, CHAPTER IV. 'y Pledge Saves De Artigny. HAD one glimpse of his face as le leaned forward, and there was a look in it which made me shudder and turn away. His was no idle ‘threat, and whether the man truly loved me or not, his hatred of De Artigny was sufficient for any cru- elty. “We.i, my beauty,” ho sald harshly, “haven't I waited long enough to oy if {t is war or peace between I laughed, yet I doubt if he gained any comfirt from the expression of he eyes which met his, “Why, I choose peace, of course, Monsieu I answered, assuming a carelessness I was far from feeling. “Am I not your wife? Surely you re- mind me of it often enough, so I am mot likely to forget; but 1 resent the Insult of your words, nor will you ever win favor from me by such methods. I have been friendly with ur de Artigny, tt is true, but there is nothing more between us. Indeed, no word has passed my lips in his Presence I would not be willing for you to hear. So there is no cause for you to spare him on my account, or Test his fate on any action of mine.” “You will have naught to do with ‘the fellow?” “There would be small chance if I wished, Monsieur; and do you sup- pose I would seok companionship with one who had killed my uncle?" “"Twowd scarce seem so, yet L know not what you believe.” “Nor do I myself; yet the evidence ds all inst the man thus far, I confess I should like to hear his de- fense, but I make you this pledge in ail honor—I will have no word with him, on condition that you file no chart until we arrive at Fort St. suspiciously, “you think he thas friends there to hold him inno- cont.” “Why should I, Monsieur? Indeed why should I care but to have jus- Uce done? I do not wish his blood on eur hands, or to imagine that he !4 condemned because of his friendship for me rather than any ¢ crime. 1 know not what friends th¥ man has at the Rock on the Illinols. He was of La Salle’s party, and they are no longer in control. La Barre said that De Baugis commanded that post, and for all I know Do Tonty and all his men may have departe “'Tis not altogether true, and for that reason we are ordered to join the company. De Baugis, the Gov- ernor’s agent at St, Louis, has the right of 1t under commission from La Barre, but does not possess sufficient soldiers to exercise authority, La Salle's men remain loyal to De ‘Tont the warrior whom La Salle left there a3 bis representative, and the Indian tribes look to him for leadership. Mon Dieu! it was reported in Que- Dac that 12,000 savages were living bout the fort—ay! and De Artigny waid he doubted it not, for the mead- ows were covered with tepees—so De Beugis has small chance to rule until he has force behind him. They this De Tontq is of a fighting breed— the savages cail him tho man with the iron hand—and so the two rule between thém, the one for La Barre and the other for La Salle, and we go ive the Governor's man more ‘ou have sufficient force?” nless the Indians become hostile; besides there is to be an overland party later to join us in the spring, and Sieur de ja Durantaye of the regiment of Carignan-Salliers is at the Chicago portage. This I learned at St. Ignace. “Then it would seem to me, Mon- sieur, that you could safely wait the trial of De Artigny until our arrival at the fort. If he does not feel him- self suspected, he will make no effort and I give you the pledge not altogether graciously that he agreed to this, yet the man could not refuse, and I was glad enough to escape thus easily, for it was ny fear that he might insist on my yielding much more to preserve De Artigny from immediate condem- nation and death, The fellow had the power, and the inclination, and good fortune saved me, f can never know. I think he felt a certain fear of me, « doubt of how far he might presume on my good nature, Cemainly I gave lim small encour- ageme ~ fo venture further, and yer ad he done so! would have been my wit’s end. ‘Twice the words were upom, his lips d that T yield to mastery he must bh q yead in my eyes he feared to front, for they w ot utte "Twas that he might have this very talk that he had found ie place aione in his canoe, and I would have re- pected him more had he dared to earry out his desire, The cowant in the man was too apparent and yet that very cowardice was proof of tveachery. Day after day it was the same duil monotony, crouched in the narrow canoe, watching the movements of the paddlers and staring about at endless sea and sky, with distant limpae of wilderness, We lost tn- ‘erest in conversation, in each other, and I lay for hours with eyes closed to the glare of the sun, feeling no de- sire gave to be left alone, Yet there were ecenes of rpassing beauty un- rolled before us and sun- set, and when the great silvery :noon reflected its glory in the water. Our camps occurred wherever night evertook us and we found good land- ing place. Occasionally we went eshore earlier, and the Indians hunted for wild game, usually with success, In all these days and nights I had no A Romance of the Western Wilderness and of Two Eighteenth Century Lovers Randall Pa , tinued absence, 1 became convinced ; as the men soon forgot the tragedy of ish gilmpese of de Artigny nor of his crew. it was not possible for me to ques- tion Cassion, for to do 60 would have @roused his jealous suspicion; but as be never once referred to their con- that it was his orders which kept them ahead. No doubt it was best, Hugo Chevet’s death, and after the first day I do not recall hearing the murder discussed, Such deeds were not uncommon, and Chevet had mace no friends to cherish his memory. If others suspected De Artigny they felt little resentmont or desire to punish him—and doubtless the men had quarrelled, and the fatal knife thrust been delivered in fair fight. The result interested them only slightly, and none regretted the loss of the man killed. We made no entrance into Green Bay, for there was nothing there but a newly established mission station, and perhaps a hunter's camp, scarcely worth our wasting two days in seek- ing. Besides the night we made camp at a spot marked on the map as Point de Tour, we found waiting us there the advance canoe, and both De Artig- ny and the Indian chief who accom- panied us counselled that our course be south across the mouth of the bay. 1 sat in my tent and watched them discuss the matter in the red glow of a fire, but this was my only glimpse of De Artigny until he led the way) the next morning. Our voyage that day was a long one | and we were often beyond view of) land, although we skirted several! isiands, The lake was stirred by a| wentle breeze, yet not enough to delay | cur passage, and the sky above was, cloudless. Tho Indian chief took the steering paddle in one of our boat. relieving Pere Allouez, and De Artig- ny guided us, his canoe a mere black speck ahead. It waa already dark | when we finally attained the rocky shore of Port de Morts. When dawn came De Artigny and his crew had departed by order of Cassion, but the chief remained to take charge of the third canoe. The | indifference the younger man had shown to my presence hurt me| strangely—he had made no effort to| approach or address me; Indeed, 60} far as I was aware, had not so much ax glanced in my direction. Did he still resent my marriage, or was it his | consciousness of guilt, Which held him thus aloof? CHAPTER VY, The Break of Storm. had no more pleasant | weather for days, the skies | being overcast and the! wind damp and chill, It, did not rain, nor were the waves dangerous, although | choppy enough to make paddling tiresome and difficult. T had no knowledge of the date | hor a very clear conception of where. we were, although it must have been either the fourth or fifth day sinc: we left Port du Morts, ‘The night before we had camped at the mouth of a small stream, the surrounding forest growing down close to the shore, and 80 thick us to be almost impenetrable, ‘The men had set up my tent so close to the water the waves ke scarcely a foot away, and the fire about which the other clustered for warmth was but a few yards distant Wrapped in 1 Artiguy blankets I saw De the ‘kness and appr who drew a map from his belt pocket and spread it open on the ground in the glare of the tire. The two men bany over it, tracing the lines with finger tips, evidently determining their course for the morrow Then De Artigny made a few notes on a scrap of paper, urose to his feet and disap- peared ‘They had scarcely exchanged a word, and the feeling of enmity be- tween them was apparent. Cassion sat quiet, the map still open, stared after the younger he vanished in the darkn i jooh upon his face was not a pleas- ant one, impelled by a sudden impulse t to my feet, the blanket sti 4 about my shoulders, and d the open space to ths 1 Cassion, hearing the sound ef my Approach, glanced around, his frown unging instantly into a sm and Madame he first time I have felt desirs sa,” L retorted. "I feel curiosity samuine your map." nd waited until T apprec the compliment,” and be removed his hat in mock gallantry time when you would rier" arcasm is quite uncalled You havé my pledge relative to ur de Artigny, Monsieur, which “8. If you do ‘not care to give me glimpse of your map, I will retire again.” was alone; | “Pout! Do not be so easily pri T spoke in Jest. Ay, look at the per, but the tracing is so poor ‘tis no te than a guess where we are you down, Madame, so the fire ex light, and | will show you our position the be 1 i “Did not De Arti know? “He thinks |. but his memory is not over « © Was only over this course t » he has put the ma my guess would be a few le 1 T bent over, eyes seeking the points indicated. ‘Thad seen the map before, yet it told me little, for I was unaccustomed to such study, and the few points and streams named had No real meaning to my mind. ‘The only familiar term was Chicagou Portage, and 1 pointed to it with my fingers. “Tq it there we leave sieur?” "Aye, the rest will be river work You wee this stream? "Tis called the Des Plaines, and leads into the Ii- nols. De Artigny says it is two miles inland, acrose @ flat country. ‘Twas Pere Marquette who passed this way first, but since then many have tra- versed it. "Tis like to take us two days to make the portage.” “And way up here is Port du Morte, where we crossed the opening into Green Bay, and we have come since all this distance, Surely ‘tis not far along the shore now to the portage?” e lake, Mon- Ted The Evening World Al, quite an adventure t he * id, adopting a tone of pie try The first time you have left your REE noe . \ Daily Magazine. Tuesday, Februa zy, Is OH, THATS THE STUFF THEY, MAKE MEN'S UNDERWEAR oF How SPorty | YES, DEAR STOCKINET IS THE TATEST FAD IN TAILOR SUITS IT'S FETCHING! Do You Nonce IT MATCHES MY STOCKINGS AND SUCH SHOES, NY DEAR | LACED OUTSIDE INSIDE , BOTH SIDES — WITH LACES To MATCH THE STITCHINGS ON THE IQLOVES | So NIFTY | AREN'T THE LITTLE SHOULDER CAPES CuTe ? So QUAINT AND OLD FASHIONED - —— “Mon Dieu, who knows! like a st likely It looks » on the map, yet ‘tis not distance has ever been sudden p! sure. tl ured,” a. Whether, or not, he felt some premonition of danger, he certainly spoke words of instruction to his Indian paddlers, and so manip- YES, AND IT COMES, IN STRIPES FoR. IKIRTS AND IN, COATS = ALL iT TRIMMED in LE: AN im LEATHER, Yes, ANO THE \TALIAN SILK THAT [ To Be USED [sel SUITS TOO | HAVE HEARD 1 SAW ONE LIKE THIS WITH A RED CUCUMBER RIGHT (N FRONT _ VERY STUNNING | 0, COME HOME WITH INE AND SEE HY CONVERSATION STOCKINGS | SAW ONE TRIMMED IN BLUE CARROTS, ‘THAT WAS A, OREAN | ~ALLRIGHT, BUT 1 CAN'T. STAY LONG | HAVE To MEET JOHN AT HALF PAST TWO BUT HE'LL PROBABLY Be LATE As USUAL than in reality. shapeless, seemed te through the water; I on a wave and L flu Something black, your canoe capsized, and I bore » aweep past ne down toward where you struggled in t borne high the water, An Indian got grip upon ng up my hands you as we swept by, but the craft “What suid the ur de Artigny?” ulated his craft as to keep not far in protection; I felt inyself gripped, dipped so that he let go, and then [ “Bah! the Steur de Artigny; ever it distant, although slightly farther lifted partially, then the grasp failed jdmped, for we could ‘never come * the Sieur de Artigny, "fis little he from shore, than the canoe in which and | dropped back into the churn- back, and that was the only chance. knows about it in my judgment. He [ pat ing water, The canoe, or whatever This Is the whole stor Would have it thirty leagues yet, but Cassion had already vanished in tho it was, was gone, swept remorse. cept that by IT make it we are ten leagues to the fov which swept thicker and thicker Iessly past by the raging wind, but ashore.” wuth of whe puts us. What, wlong the surface of the water, the @8 [ came up in to the surface & I looked into his face, impressed by you going dy? Faith, Thad nearest boats becoming more indis. band clasped me, drew me close un- the seriousness with which he spoke, you might tarry here a while tinct shadows. Even within my own t!! t had grip on a broad shoulder “L-L thank ar,” | said, and hold converse with me. canoe the faces of those about me : and held out my It was most ance: In No way tempted, yet appeared gray and blurred, as the CHAPTER V1. xallant, Are we alone bere? Where “You had some word you wished to CAMP Vapor swept over us in dense y . fe the others? Teer lh ‘d yo ted to clouds. It was a ghastly scene, ren- Alone With De Artigny. “L do not know, Madame,” he an- here ute ‘words enough if you {fed more awesome by tho glare of e swered, his tone now that of formal would listen.” foiled lightning whish seoened, te spilt the 6s IE still asmoment,” said courtesy, " "Tis but a short sme “"Tis no fault vapor, and the sound of thunder re- a volee gent! “You Since we reached this spot, and the pues no fault of yours tf 1 do not. Nerberating from the surface of tho Bint. Gaathe ei storm yet rages. May 1 help you to cold. We take the anc I stand, 4o you may percei ia a eta boats early, and I The water, a ghastly, ereenish gray, shortly, and regain our situation.” He WAG Gachin teak tt |, heaved beneath, giving us little dif: strength.” He iitted ‘me to my feet, and) x in his hand, hut wae MAP eripped Aleulty, vet terrifying in its sugges- I knew my fingers closed on the stood erect, my clothes dripping wet, atop me, as I 4 Thine a curtacy, 100 Of sullen strength, and the shord man's hand convulsively, but the #24 my Iinbs trembling so that I as T dropped him @ curtsey jine was barely discernible to the left i grasped his arm for support, and and ret a. Hut he was there still ap we struggled forward. What ob, Water yet blinded my eyes. He must Kriabed Ie Nii foe PR were wus -* Fatioed back from out the stinacy compelled Cassion to keep us have perceived this for he wiped my on u narrow sand beach, at the edge Bracesd tee tron, Ww tind forehend at the task T know not-—perchance a face with a cloth, and it was then L Of small cove, so protected the piece eae hen he Anally dislike to yield to De Artigny's advice perceived his face clearly, and ree Waters were comparatively calm, al- urned away the nap was crus but the sergeant swore to himself, thai, alt *- though the trees above bowed to the shapeless In his fingers, and turned the prow of our canoe In. Membered. blast, and out beyond the headland waren but oth ate ed ward, hugging the shore as closely as Sieur de Artigny!” I ex- I could see huge waves, whitened Went Ree reent AY AEN Bro he dared, his anxious eyes searching | with foam, and perceive the clouds of WY sae an ea eee every rift in the mist. “Of course,” Le answered. “Who spray flung up by the rocks, It was Ase tere walle and onenachnss Yet, dark and drear as tho day was, ##@ should It be, Madame? Please do 4 wild scene, the roar of the break- t thunder ane to one We had no true warning of the ap- Del resret my privilege ers loud and continuous, and the here wae ha wind Polk! proaching storm, for the vapor cling- | “Your privilege; ‘tls a strange black clouda flying above with dizzy A enat the ahes BBs ney ing to the water concealed from our Wrd you choose, Monsieur," I fal- rapidity. All the h r which [had iward And. leate us mate Sight the clouds above. When It came tered, not yet having control of my- Just passed through fled alone the anor it bg it burst upon us with mad ferocit ly I have granted none.” i the scene, and I 8 d been wrenched in making | the wind whirling to the north, and nee not, as there was sm: with my hands, pean wre striking us with ail the of ° he answered, evidently at- “You-you think they—they are all pee ragratia ied and had tal hundred miles eee aren ae these tempting to speak ‘lightly. gone?” 1 asked, forcing the words Loiten ute hs a mee Sent away with that first flerce sould t wait to ask your leave; yot Ae a ; Gane gust, and we were strc ‘or urely I may esteem it a privilege to 10," he answered ly, BA EA IR a fn a’ wild ‘mel! of waters, bring you to shore alive’ hin hand ‘touched me. "Do not give iP ad Gauge: Oonmantans 7 fier | Uta glimpse of it—a glimpse of wild, t was you then who saved me? [ Way to that thought. I d oubt if any had exhibited seine temper, ordering LA#iNw sea; of black. scurrying clouds, Searcely understood, Monsieur; T Jost i your canoe made shore, but the a Her in the eant's’ Canoe th 52,c1088 above 1 could almost reach Consciousness, and am dazed in mind, ¢thers need n in great danger. be che 3 canoe to out and touch them; of dimly re. You leaped into the water from the They could run before the storm un- pangs pices f vealed canoes flung about lke chips til they found some opening In the We were the last to depart from the driving before the blast ; there wag no other course left Coast line to yield protection. The mouth of the stream where we had Our own was hurled forward like me. My boat was beyond yours, a #eTeeant was nu voyageur, and when made night camp, and { took more an arrow, the Indian paddlers. w few yards farther out in the lake, one of the paddies’ broke he ateered than usuil interest, fecling oddly re- ing Hke mad to keep stern to the When the storm struck, We were Wrong. With an Indian there you roved to be away from Cassion's wind, their long hair whipping about, partially prepared, for I felt assured Would have floated. of speech 1 could net tater gem clinging grimly to any support, their You told Monsieur Cassion so,” [ DOHEDE aes Tt eet on keeping me nt tolerate, thus white faces exhibiting the abasement Interrupted, my mind clearing, "It Pp Cas . ¥ eeping me constantly on defense, of fear. ‘The sergeant alone spoke, Was to bring him warning you re- South, but will return when the storm ae 3 ertaln when his audacity would yelling his or as he wielded turned.” ‘ subsides to seek you. No doubt fe rete? ands. So this morning it was steering paddle, his hat blown from | "I urged him to land until we could Will think you dead, yet will scarcely Hef to sit up. free of my blanket, his head, his face ghastly with sud- be assured of good weather, My leave Without search. ae ene and watch the men get under wi ‘ jc rrows lighter already, and the wind i y den terror, It was but the Indians agreed with me 8 be he We may have proceeded for haifa of an instant; then a paddl And he refused to listen vou if lens flerce. Tt would he my tought league, when a tom swept in toward the canoe swung sideways, balanced permitted your canoa to fall behind; {? attain the woods yonder, and bulla the Ma 1 eny bing ws in its folds, al~ on the crest of a wave and Went over. you endeavored to keep close to the 4 ‘Bre, to dry our clothes; the air hough we were close enough to the 1 was conac of eres, shrill, in- boat | was in—was that not true, Sil b shore So us to keep safely together, stantly smo 1, and then E | Monsieur?” ‘ fw joked where he plated: Up @ Dare the word being passed back down the struggling hard to keep above water, He laughed, but very softly, and the erie any errent the Mune, and as we drew nearer | became yet borne down by the weight of the grave look did not desert his «yes Ho musthave read this in aware that De Artigny's boat had canoe, [came up again, choking and “You noted me then! Faith, | had Pg ey een ey turned about and he was endeavor. half strangled, and sought to grip no thought you as much ag glinced MY fare and seen my Font waiver ie ing to induce CasMon to go ashore the boat as it whirled past. My toward us, Well, and why should { p2°,Wigd struck my Wo * and make camp before the storm fingers found nothing to cling to, slip- not? Is it not a man's duty to weck "Aine jaan Geelong broke. The latter, however, was ob- ping along the wet Kool, until I went to guard your safety In such. an ave @ better thought then Stinate, claiming we were close down again, but this time holding my hour? Monsteur Cassion did not {hat for You anme ton meek ene enough for safety, and finally, in breath. My water-soaked garments realize the peril, for he knows naught ang I will cover you with the san angry votce, insisted upon proceeding and heavy shoes made swimming al- of the treachery of this lake, while L tes) warm and dry. Then Twill on our course. inost impossible, yet I struggled to have witnessed its sudden storms be- er up yonder,” wood De Artigny, evidently fecling argue Keep face above water. Two men had fore, and learned to fear them down? twill be but until ment useless, mado no reply, but I Peached the canoe, and had somehow I deemed it best to be near a We have ® cheerful t noticed he held back his paddle: id found hold. One of thess was an For that you cannot chide me. WP chock tay head bur he weld Maton Pepmitted Cassion's canoe to forge In@ian, but they were already too far “No, no, Monsieur,” and [ managed \o no negative, and ao, at last, Lyleld- ahead, He must h discovered that @Way to ald me, and in another mo- to sit up, and escape the pressure of ed to his inslstence, and he piled the 1 was not with Monsieur, for I saw ment had vanished in the white his arin. “To do that would be the white sand over mo until all but my him stare intently crested waves. other canoes as though to make sure of my presence, shading his ey with one hand as he peered throu the thickening mist. This action evi- denced the first intimation I had for days of his continued interest in m Welfare, and iy beart thropbed with at each of the Mke @ cork. Yet Not another boat's crew was visible, nor could I be sure of where the shore lay Twice 1 went down, waves break- ing over me and filnging me about I was though, strangely dazei and hopeless. I struggled, but more as tf in a dream of our have died but for prang from the can: “Ay, when I founc Never did [ feel 1 ho craft such as conscious, height of ingratitude, Surely L should hardly know now what occurre mur We were to your left und rear when face was covered, ‘Io me the position your help, yet f was ridiculous enough ppre: you clated the warmth ar tion, 08 and he tolled with enthusiasm, his 1 ail else useless, tongue as busy as his hands in effort deadly blast; to make me comfortable 1d face it Tis the best thing possible; the warmth of your body will dry your en tia sce | How won! 100 ane the were set to solving this probien & “THE GREEN CLOAK” fs one unceasing. | Read it! clothes, worthy ad over with, ready Ah, it is turning out a pnture, but will soon be he storm is done al- although the waves atill beat the shore flercely, "Tis my thought Monsieur Cassion will be back along this way ere dusk, and @ canoe can scarce fo past without being seen while daylight lasts, and at night we will keep a fire, There, that bet- ter? You begin to feel warm?” “Yea, Monsieur, “Then lie still and do not worry. All will come out right {na few hours more. Now I will go above and throw down some dry wood. I shail not be out of sight more than a few minutes,” From where I lay, my head on a hummock of sand, my body com- pletely buried, I could watch him scale the rocks, making use of the rift in the face of the cliff and finding no great difficulty, At the top he looked back, waved his hand and then disappeared among the trees, In spite of my promise to Cassion I was here alone with De Artigny, helpicss to escape his presence or to be indifferent for the service he had rendered me. Nor had 1 slightest wish to escape. ven although tt should be proved that the man was the murderer of my uncle, | could not break the influence he had over me, and how, when it was not proved, I simply must struggle to believe that he could be the perpetrator of the deed. All that I seemed truly con- scious of Was a relief at being free from the companionship of Cassion. 1 wanted to be alone, relieved from his attentions, and the fear of what he might attempt next. Beyond this my mind did not go, for I felt weak from the struggle in the water, and a mere desire to lie quiet and rest took pos- session of my faculties, De Artigny appeared at the edge of the cliff and called to reassure me of his presence, He had his arms filled with broken bits of wood whieh were tossed to the sand, and, a moment later, he descended the rift in the wall and paused before me, “No sign of any one up t said, and I felt not regretfully. canoes must have been blown some distance down the coast.” “Were you able to see far?” y. several leagues, for we are upon a headland and there is a wide sweep of bay below. The shore line is abrupt and the waves still high, | Indeed I saw no spot in all that dis tance where a boat might make safe landing, Are you becoming dry?” “Lam at least warm, and already feel much stronger. Would it not be best, Monwieur, for us to scale the cliff and wait our rescuers there, whe we can keep lookout?” “If you feel able to climb the rocks, although the passage is not difficult. A boat might pass us he nd on he seen, or know of our presence less we keep up a fire.” {held out my hand to him, and he helped me to my feet, The warmth of the sand, while it had not entirely dried my clothing, had given me fresh vigor, and IL atood erect, requiring no. assistance. With this knowledge a w assurance seemed to take pos- sesion of me and I looked about and smiled, Tam glad to know you can laugh,” he said eagerly, “I have felt that our being thus shipwrecked together was not altogether to your liking.” "And why?" T asked, pretending surprise, “Being shipwrecked, of course, could scarcely appeal to me, but fam surely not ungrateful to you for saving my life, “As to that, I did no more than any man might be expec to do," hi protested. “But you have avoided n for weeks past, and it can acarcely bi pleasant now to be alone with me here.” “Avoided you! Rather should I af- firm it was your own chotce, Mon- sieur, If I recall aright I gave you my confidence once, long ago, on the Ottawa, and you refused my request of asmistance. Since then you have scarcely bean of our party.” He hesitated, as though of what he had best say. “It was never through indifference as to your welfare,” he answered at last, "but obedience to orders, My eyes met hia “Did M. Cassion command that you keep in ad e," Tasked, “and make your night c beyond ‘those of the Thain comp “Those were his special orders, for which I saw no need, except possibly his desire to keep us separated, Yet I did not know his reason, nor was it my privilege to ask, Had M. Caasion any occasion to distrust me?" “I know not as to oceasion, Mon- sieur, but left Quebee disiiking you because of our conference there, and some words La Barre spoke gavo him fresh suspicion that you and I were friends, and should be watched IT do not altogether blame the man, for he learned early that I thought little of him, and held it no honor to be his wife, Yet that distrust would have died, no doubt, had tt not been fanned into flame by doubtful “L was kept in hts every instant guarded by elther if or ere Allouez, his faithful servitor, until long after we passed Montreal and entered the wilderness. That day I met you on the bluff was the first tunity I had found to he alone. rew were Cassion felt rin ylelding although had the pere not been til, ‘tls doubtful tf I had been permitted to disappear alone.” ‘Rut he knew naught of our meet- ing?” "You mistake, Monsieur. had you gone when he app by chance, noted your footp: traced them to where you descen¢ the cliff, Of course he had no proof, and I admitted nothing, yet he knew the truth and sought to pledge me not to speak with you again,” “And you made such pledge?” No; | permitted him to. beltew that [ did, for otherwise th have been an open quar then until now we have never met.” “No,” he burst corth, “but I have detective stories of the decade, Its mystery is baffling, its ¢ |THE GREEN CLOAK By Yorke Davis ; of the strangest and ry 8 Lo. Leen oftentimes nearer you than thought. I could not forget what you said to mo at that last meeting, or the appeal you made for my assist- ance. I realize the position you are in, Madame, married by force to a man you despise, a ¥.ife only i) name, and endeavoring to protect yourself by wit alone, [ could not forget ai) this, nor be indifferent. I have been in your camp at night—ay, more the: once—dreaming 1 might be of aid to you, and to assure myself ot your safety. “You have guarded me? "As best I could, without arousing the wrath of Monsieur Cassion. You are not angry? It was but the duty of a friend.” (! o, Lam not angry, Monsieur, yet it was not needed. 1 do not fear Cas- sion, #0 long as I can protect myself, for if he atempts evil it will find some form of treachery. But, Monsieur, later I gave him the pledge he asked. “The pledge! What pledge?” “That | would neither meet nor communicate with you until our ar- rival at Fort St. Louis. My eyes fell before his earnest gaze and I felt my limbs tremble. “Mon Dieu! Why? There was some special cause?” “Yes, Monsieur—listen. Do not be- Heve this is my thought, yet I must tell you the truth. Hugo Chevet was found dead, murdered, at St. Ignace, ‘Twas the morning of our departure, and your boat had already gone. Cassion accused you of the crime, as some of the men saw you coming from the direction where the body was found late at night, and others reported that you two had quarrelled the evening before. Cassion would have tried you offhand, using his authority as commander of the ex- pedition, but promised not to file charges until we reached St, Louis, if I made pledge—'twas then I gave him my word.” De Artigny straightened up, the ex- pression on his face one of profound astonishment. “He—he accysed me,” he asked, “of murder to vin your promise?” ‘No, Monsieur, he believed the charge true, and I: pledged myself to assure you a fair trial.” “Then ge Ag ged also that I wae guilty of the foul crime?” I caught my breath, yet there wi nothing for me to do but give bi om eben ‘ —1 have given no testimony, Monsleur,” I faltered, “but TT saw you in the moonlight bending over Chevet's dead body.” CHAPTER VII. We Exchange Confdences. Y eyes fell before his; T cou! not look into his face, yet had a sense that he was actually glad to hear my words, There was no anger, rather happiness and relief in the gray eyes, “And you actually believed I struck the blow? You thought me capable of driving a knife into the man's back to gain revenge?” “Monsieur, what could I think? f urged eagerly. “It did not seem pos- sible, yet I saw you with my own eyes. You knew of the murder, but you made no report, raised no alarm, and in the morning your boat was gone before the body was found by others.” “True, yet there was a reason which I can confess to you. You also di covered the body that night, aroused no alarm, T saw you. Why did you remain silent? Was it to pro- tect’ me from suspicion?” I bent my head, but falled to find words with which to answer. De Artigny scarcely permitted me time, * “That is the truth; your silence tells me it was for my sake you re mained still, Is it not possible, Adele, that my purpose was the same? Lis- ten to me, my girl, and have faith tn my words—I am not guilty of Hugo Chovet's death. I did not like the man, it is true, and we exchanged words in anger while loading the boats, but TI never gave the matter 4 second thought. That was not the first night of thiy Journey that I sought assure myself of your ty know Monsieur Cassion, and of he is capable, and felt that w some time there would occur between ou a struggle—so at every camping place, where it was possible, T have watched. It was ror that purpose I approached the Mission House. I gained glimpse within, and saw Cas- sion asleep on a bench, and knew you had retired to the chamber above. I was satisfied, and started to return to the camp. On my way back I found Chevet's body at the edge of the wood. I discovered how he had been Killed-—a knife thrust In the back.” ‘But you made no report; raised no alarin "* “L was confused, unable to decide what was bast for me to do, Thad no business being there. My first im- pulse was to arouse the Mission House; my second to return to camp and tell the men there. With this last purpose in view I entered the wood descend the hill, but had hardly done = so when I caught sight of you tn tho moonlight and remained there hidden, watching your movements with hor- ror, T savh you go straight to the body, assur) yourself the man was dead; then return to the Mission House and @ ter your room by way of the kitcha roof. Do yoa realize what your act ons naturally meant to me I stared at ‘im, scarcely able to yet !n\ some way my lips ned words. You--you thought I did tt? “What else could I think? You were hiding there; you examined the body; you crept secretly in through the window and gave no alarm.” » horror of it all struck me Ike a blow, and I covered my eyes with my hands, no longer able to restrain my sobs.’ De Artigny caught mg hands and uncovered my face, (To Be Continued.)