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WOODEN SPOIL fCopyright, 1919, by George H. Doran Co.) CHAPTER XVI. —l2 Dupont Remember*. Brousseau was seated In the library of the gaudy house when a tall old mau came to the door. He recon noitred, recognized Captain Dupont, •ud admitted him. Since the exposure Brousseau had hardly left his room. He sat there, haggard, crushed, planning, scheming to get back that which seemed slipping Inexorably from his grasp. Consumed with furious hate of Hilary, he seemed Inhibited from action by the very ve hemence of his will. “He’i sailing for Quebec tomorrow arenlng." said the captain. “I am to take him with a schooner load of lum ber.” •'Askew?” queried Brousseau sharp tr. “Yes. monsieur. He cnme to me late this afternoon. His horse was all In a sweat. He must have driven like the devil. He told me to sail tomorrow night, whether the hold's full or empty.” Brousseau wus staggered. If Hilary was going to Quebec immediately. It must be to lay those papers, which he had sought vainly in his desk, before the police. He saw the prison walls closing about him. And to the great bate he bore Hilary was added the lust for liberty. He must have the papers. Lafe Connell knew besides, hut Lafe could be laughed at. once the papers were his own. His plan began to take shape. If Hilary were out of the way and the documents destroyed he could yet win Madeleine, achieve his dream of be coming Seigneur, his life ambition. "Dupont.” Ite said, “you and I have not always hern on good terms. You refused to break your contract with the Sf. Boniface company. But I guess yon see differently now.” Dupont clenched his lists. *Tve sworn to kill him.” he whispered. “I’ve held my pence. I talked with him face to face tonight, and he never knew the devil that was sitting In my throat, telling me to make an end.” “Cun you keep that devil of yours silent till you have him on board?” naked Brousseau. Dupont pulled at his tangled hoard and nodded. Brousseau. wutchlng him. knew that the madness which held him would carry him to the end. “Who are vour crew?" he asked. “Drouln. Lachance and Georges Martin.” ••Two men are enough. I have two good men for yon In place of them. Listen carefully. Dupont.” Marie, sleeping overhead, heard her father drive up In a sleigh that night, arid there was whispering at the door. That frightened her. Another thing that alarmed her was his way of en tering. Usually he would stamp Into the house, as If on board; but now he came In furtively, and she could hard ly hear his steulthy movements below. She wondered what was portending. Of late he had watched her more keen ly than ever, and had been more silent. She slept by starts, and awakened at dawn to hear a stealthy step out aide her door. In the dim light she aaw her father bending over her bed. She sat up. stretching out her urras as If to ward off something. In her con fused condition between sleep and waking she had fancied for a moment that he heJd something In his hand — a knife or a revolver. But she saw that he held nothing. He Was Btaring Into Her Eyes as if to Read Her Secret Thoughts. He was staring Into her eyes, as If to read her secret thoughts. “Tonight I go to Quebec." said Dupont. “I shall be aboard all day. X may not return.” He had said the suine thing be fore his last voyage, and she had listened, unbelieving, but indifferent If It were true. Now the words terri fic her no less than his demeanor, god for the first time she wondered whether he knew of her Journey with Pierre. He would never believe her story, ft would have aroused all the wedness In him. If he had known. But he could not know. •Ton will come back,” the stem- mered. “You will be back before the river closes. Then we shall be to gether here through the winter. We shall be happier than In the past. And we—” 'The name!” he cried, seizing her by the shoulders. ‘Tell me now! I wait no longer!” The old obstinate look came on her face. Her remorse and pity Instantly died. She compressed her lips and was silent. “The name! Thou shalt tell me! I should have beaten thee when thou wast a child. But I shall not beat thee now, for I can compel rhee to tell me. The name! The name!” She remained silent and utterly qui escent. So strong had the inhibition grown that she could not have told, had she been willing to do so. save under the Impulse of some overpow ering mental shock. And. armed by the years, she grew calm us he grew violent, and her mind passed under the domination of tlie old habit. He let her go and stood beside her, pulling ut his gray beard and smiling. Marie had never seen her father smile at such a time before. And there came into her mind an Idea which hud never seemed possible, that some day she might yield up her secret. The mental Inhibition of a lifetime was breaking under the stress. Dupont strode towurd the door, stopped there, and looked back. "I go now to the schooner." he said. ”1 shall he aboard till we sail this eve ning. If thou come to me before I sail and tell me the name. I give thee his life, one life for another.” “What life? What other?” cried thp girl wildly. He glared Into her eyes, and the look in his own wus that of u man devil-haunted. "Dost thou think I do not know," he cried, “of Monsieur Askew and thee, or that Mademoiselle has broken h?r betrothal with him because of thee?” He turned toward her with u menacing gesture. “The name!" he thundered. She cowered under his words, and the name now trembled upon her lips. But before she spoke It Dupont was gone. He wus gone, and she was alone In the gray of the morning, watching the gray sea heave under a brightening sky. ns she had watched it all her life. And her futher’s appearance In her room seemed unreal us a dream. All day she watched him from the cottage, busy about his ship, piling the logs on deck. All day she waited, stunned, und incapable of action, re peating over und over in her mind her father’s words, whose meaning was unintelligible to her. Yet St. Boniface remained unchanged In that ruin that had come upon her. Men laughed noisily as they strolled from their work at noon, children shouted at play; the hum of the mill was u soft undertone accompanying the horror in her heart. It seemed Incredible thut St. Boniface could know nothing, when the whole universe was crying out against her. It was late lti the afternoon when she sow two figures slouch toward the vessel. She recognized Pierre und Le blanc. And In a moment she under stood the meaning of their appearance. Murder was being planned, against Hilary, who hud saved her. She watched them go on board, paralyzed with fear. Then the power of action, return ing. shattered the paralysis of will that held her. She ran bareheaded from the cottage, through the streets of St. Boniface, toward the Chateau. She must get help there; her thoughts turned Instinctively thither, as St. Boniface had always turned for aid toward Its Seigneur. Madeleine, seated In her room, with her memories of her dead, heard the door hell Jangle. She went down, to see Murie In the hall. At the sight of the girl a feeling of repulsion, wild and unreasonable, stiffened her. but when she looked Into her face, she spoke gently. “What Is It?” she asked. “Mademoiselle.” stammered the girl, “they are planning to kill him." “Whom ?” “Monsieur Askew, who suved rae from Pierre that day. Mademoiselle. I huve only now learned what they say —of him and me. It Is not true. And they are going to murder him. I came to you to save him." “Where Is he?” “He Is going on board tonight. Per haps he is there now. Pierre and Le blanc are waiting for him there —’’ “Wait here!” cried Madeleine. She ran back Into the Chateau, put on her coat und hut. and took a re volver which had lain Cor many years unused In a drawer of a cabinet. Site hurried to the stable, harnessed the horse, and brought the sleigh to the door. She motioned to Murie to enter, leaped In, and took the reins, and the two girls started along the road through the forest. It wus a difficult Journey through the deep snow. Often the horse floun dered knee-deep in the drifts, and the way seemed endless; but near the vil lage the snow was tramped hard, and the sleigh went like the wind. Neither of the girls spoke, but before the eyes of each was the same dreadful picture. ELBERT COUNTY TRIBUNE: ELBERT COUNTY BANNER At last they emerged from the for est and crossed the bridge. The hum of the mill had ceased, and had been succeeded by another sound, well known to dwellers along the St. Law rence shores when winter arrives: The stirring of the Ice floes ns the impend ing storm drives them together to their long winter anchorage. The sleigh went madly along the wharf, which groaned and creaked as the Ice battered It on either side. Made leine sprang from the sleigh and ran on board the schooner, which was al ready moving. As Marie descended to follow her she saw that It was too late. There was an Increasing space between the wharf and the deck. .She hesitated, and then It was Impossible to fcfllow. Fop a moment she thought she saw Madeleine threading the narrow pas sage between the piles of 'umber; then the darkness closed about her. The pulleys creaked. The mainsail and foresail swung upward and bellied In the wind. The two gnfftopsalls gleamed like white olrds against the night. * * Then only the sails remnlned. They turned and shifted, disappearing and And Hilary Opened Hi* Eyes to Dit cover That the Vision Was Reality. appearing again elusively. until they blended with the fog and the darkness and vanished finally. The horse, left uncontrolled, swung round and galloped homeward, trail ing the empty sleigh behind him. Marie stood shuddering at - the end of the wharf. For a while she stared out In terror toward the Invisible schooner, lost In the distance. She could see nothing, but she could still hear the roar of the wind In the rigging and the flapping of the great sails. Presently, with n low cry. she turned and began running homeward. She staggered Into the cottage and sank down before the stove, crouching there. • • • • • • • When Hilary reached the wharf it was already dark. He had been rec ognized by no one on the way. He went straight aboard the schooner, and found Dupont on deck. "When do you start?" he asked. "Immediately. monsieur," replied the captain quietly. The schooner contained a tiny cabin In the forecastle. Between this anti the poop. In the open bottom, was piled the lumber, secured with chains, and stacked high above the sides. “I’m going below.” said Hilary, turn ing away. He did not want to look upon St. Boniface again. He put his foot upon the top rung of the ladder that led down to the forecastle. As he did so he felt a stunning blow upon the bnck of the head. He stnggered. slipped, and fell down the ladder Into the little open space before the cabin. Half dazed, he was barely conscious of seeing the grinning faces of Pierre and Leblanc stare Into his. His over coat was torn from his hack, his pock ets emptied. He waited for the knife thrust, but only kicks followed. He was lifted and thrown Into the cabin. The outlaws ran bnck to assist Du pont In getting up the sails. It was not Brousseau's plan to dispatch him within hearing of the shore. He heard the sails being hoisted, and felt the schooner moving from the wharf. Then he heard a low cry and saw Madeleine upon her knees before him. She bent her fnce to his. whispering that she loved him. pleading for for giveness, and beseeching him to rise. And Hilary opened his eyes to dis cover thut the vision was reality. He stnggered to his feet and stood swaying In the middle of the cabin, while she kept her arms about him. He began to remember. He knew where he was now. Madeleine thrust the revolver Into his hand. “They have planned to murder you!” she cried. “I learned of It and brought this. You must not die, Hil ary. now that we love each other." He broke the revolver. It was empty, and the bore so eaten away with mat that to have fired It would have been more dangerous to the shooter than to his object of aim. He saw the horror on the girl's face as she made the discovery. “I did not think about the car tridges," she cried. "I heard you were in danger and I seized It and came to you. What shall we do? I um going to die with you." “We are not going to die,” he an swered. But he felt a trickle of blood In his eyes. He pulled himself to gfther to face the situation, thinking with all the concentration of which his mind was capable. He heard the sails being run up. and the creak of the cordage In the wind. Then the schooner, grinding her course through the drift ice, began to roll and pitch as the force of the gulf current struck her. And through the portholes Hilary saw the lights of St. Boniface reel into the enwrupping fog and vanish. With Madeleine's arm about him he thought with desperate concentration. Doubtless the ruffians had gone to as sist Dupont in taking the schooner out into midstream, confident that their victim was at their mercy. Once the vessel hail passed the dangerous ice and deadly sunken rocks Dupont alone could keep her on her course. And Dupont had planned his death. He remembered the hate on the old man's face; but he could not imagine the cause of It, for he did not connect It with the story about Murie. They would return, they would dis cover that the revolver was useless; his life was worth about ten minutes’ purchase, and of Mudeleine’s fate he dared not think. He must fight for her and live for her. He got his shak ing limbs under coutrol. “Fra all right," he whispered. “I’ve got ray plan uow. Keep behind me and be ready to help. The door’s locked. I suppose?” A quick attempt to open It showed him that it wus. But he had a chance. If he could break down the door, for the sound might pass un heard In the gale, with the crashing of the Ice uguinst the sides of the schooner, enabling him to pass Into the hold unseen iu the darkness. He hurled himself against the cabin door, fists, shoulders, body, with every muscle set tense. It broke upon Its hinges, and Hilary fell, sprawling into the passage between the plies of stacked lumber, which rose to a height of twenty feet on either side of him. running to within u few feet of the cabin and the deck ladder. He crouched there for a few sec onds, hearing Madeleine behind him. and looked upward. The wind wus roaring through the rigging with a noise far louder than that made by the falling door. No one had heard the crash. Above him swung the great mainsail, obscuring the gibbous moon that scurred like a pale ghost among the drifting clouds, haloed In the fog. Hil ary could Just discern the hazy fig ures of three men. hard at work to gain the middle channel, and the lan tern ♦het hung from the mast above, faintly illuminating them. He had seen, but had not conscious ly observed, till the remembrance came to him then, that a pile of lum ber. placed In the ship but not yet se cured, lay about the center of the open spuce In front of the cabin. It could not shift with the rolling of the schooner, so as to destroy her equi librium. on account of the stacks on either side. It consisted of the last load of logs, which hail been dropped there from the end of the flume. Hil ary raised two In his arms and car ried them in front of the broken door. It wus Impossible to make his voice heard, for the ship was staggering through the flushing Ice floes with u noise like that of artillery, but Made leine saw his purpose, und In an in stant was at work helping him. They begun swiftly building u barricade; and, us Madeleine deposited her logs by the side of Hilary’s. Hilary wedged the ends against the chained stucks on either side, so that the whole would form on Immovable barrier. He tolled furiously, for their scanty time was precious beyond vulue. Soon Made leine was behind the barricade, ad justing the logs that Hllury brought, and It stood the height of his waist. It was Improbable that either Du pont. Pierre or Leblanc carried a re volver; but. even If they did. the bar ricade was bullet-proof. Hilary for got his aching head, the retching nau sea. The harrier was shoulder-high. He clambered behind It and took his stntion there Just as the grinding of the floes ceased, and the schooner caught the clear water. A ruy of moonlight, straggling through the fog, disclosed old Dupont at the wheel above the poop, und the great mainsail sweeping over It—and two forms that crept along the pas sage between the lumber piles. They started hack In sudden consternation at the sight of the unexpected barri cade. and Hilary's club, aimed of Pierre’s head, descended upon the out law's arm, which dropped limp at his side. With a yell Pierre started back, but Leblanc leaped forward, knife In hand. So sudden was the attack that It drove within an Inch of Hilary's throat. Madeleine screamed, rushed forward, and pulled Hilary back. As Leblanc caught sight of her he uttered By VICTOR ROUSSEAU Illustrations by Irwin Myers an exclamation and followed Pierre back Into the darkness of the lumber piles. Silence followed. That wait was tense and nerve-gripping. Hilary tried to get Madeleine to return into the cabin, but she kept hqr place at his side. Then, to Hilary’s utter surprise, he heard Brousseau’s voice, and dis cerned him moving out of the dark ness of the lumber. "Monsieur Askew. I want to speak to you!” he cailed. “I am coming to you. I can trust you." Hilary returned no answer, but Brousseau. apparently confident of Hilary’s honor, pushed forward and came up to the barricade. "Ah. mademoiselle, you have done a foolish thing!” he said quietly to Mud eleine. “No harm was meant to Mon sieur Askew. I want those papers— that’s all. I heard he was coming aboard and adopted this ruse to get them. They are lies, written by u dis charged employee, und I can’t afford to be lied about. I want to clear my honor In your eyes, mademoiselle." But as neither answered him he dropped his pose of blandness und ad dressed Hilary. “I’ve got more at stake than the seigniory and the asbestos mine," he cried. "That’s only a drop In the bucket. I admit It’s been a fair fight between us and you’ve won. I didn’t want the seigniory. I wanted the fight. I’m willing to drop It now and give you best. But I want those papers. "They ain’t yours. Monsieur Askew. Morris forged them, but you kept them, and that’s why I trapped you here. It was me stopped Dupont from killing you. because of his daughter.” Madeleine laughed contemptuously at the lie, and Brousseau snorted like a lashed horse. “I want those papers.” he went on doggedly. “They ain’t In your clothes, and they ain’t In your bag. Give them to me and we’ll cry quits, and I’ll put you aud Madeleine ashore at Ste. Anne. I can trust you and you can trust me. Are you going to agree?” "No!” shouted Hilary. He had hud the sense that Brous seau meditated some treachery, hut he was not prepared for what followed. Mudelelne cried to him and pulled him back. Just as Pierre and Leblanc leaped down from the forecastle roof, to which they had climbed during Brousseau’s fictitious parleying. Each had his knife ready, and they were upon Hilary together. There was no room for maneuvering, and Hilary never knew afterward how lie escaped. But he thrust his club into Leblanc’s face, and, then, as the man stumbled back, brought It down with full force upon Pierre’s skull. All the strength of his arms went Into the blow. Pierre never spok« All the Strength of His Arms Went Into the Blow. Pierre Never Spoke Again. again. He went reeling across the deck like an Inanimate thing, struck the bulwark, and, as the schooner lurched, toppled into the sea. He was probably dead before he disappeared beneath the waves. Leblanc rushed frantically toward the barricade. Hilary was upon him when he saw Brousseau whip out a re volver and take deliberate aim at him. He felt the bullet clip his cheek. Twice more Brousseau fired. At the second shot Hilary stem bled and fell flat In the cabin entrance. At the third. Le blanc, shot through the brain, whirled round twice and collapsed In front of the barrier. Mudelelne dragged Hilary within the cabin. Blood was gushing from a wound In his breast. Frantically she begun to tear away the upper part of his clothing qpd to endeavor to stanch the wound. Suddenly she perceived the little rusted revolver upon the floor. She snatched It up and ran to see Brousseau In the act of crossing the barricade. She pushed It Into his face. Brousseau cursed and dropped on the far side; Madeleine heard him running into the darkness. She had brought a temporary respite. She ran back to Hilary. But it was almost dark In the cubin, and there was hardly anything she could do. He was conscious, but he seemed bleeding to dentil, and she could only try to stunch the blood that never stopped flowing. Suddenly there came a terrific lurch of the vessel, which began to spin crazily in the trough of the sea. And above the roaring of the wind came the wild cries of Dupont and the ex postulations of Brousseau. The eup» tain’s reason had deserted him; he had abandoned the wheel to fight out his quarrel with Hilary. The schooner, uncontrolled, ran sidewise before the wind, and Brousseau, willing as he was to let Dupont go on his errund of murder, was unable to steer her. He had bundled ships before, but the swift cross-currents at the Juncture of river and gulf made the task lmpo»- sible for one who did not know inti mately that uncharted track, fur from the main channel, now Impassable with ice. The schooner was rolling heavily, huge seas were sweeping over board. and she turned successively half round the compass; the wind, catching her swinging sails, began to whirl her round and round; and steadily she drifted toward the pack ice along the shore of the island. Madeleine, working over Hilary frantically in the cabin, sow Dupont and Brousseau struggling on the poop deck. Dupont was trying to force his way between the lumber piles, while Brousseau urged him back to the ■jrheel. Her mind worked rapidly. Was there any wuy of controlling the situ ation? She could see none. The moon had risen high, and the mists were clearing away. Not far distant was the nearing point of the island, and the open Gulf lay beyond. Toward the ice field the ship was hurrying with frightful speed. Mudeleine saw the Ice fast on every side. The narrow passage behind, filled with black, foam-flecked water, was closing In. She did not hesitate, but caught at Hilary and urged him to his feet. lie managed to rise, with her support, and staggered at her side toward the bulwarks. She stopped, picked the fur coat from the shoulders of the dead out law, and placed it nhout him. She pointed toward the Ice field. Brous seau was still struggling with Dupont near the wheel and Dupont was thrashing his arms and howling his wild paean. With tlid last exercise of his strength Hilary munaged to drop to the ice. He luy there. Madeleine crouched over him under the bow of the vessel, and her last hope went out. CHAPTER XVII. Father Lucien Arrive*. Father Lucien had grown very fond of Hilary. He did not know what to do. Hilary was In the woods now. and almost Inaccessible. The cure had not even Lafe to wrangle with. His days passed In dejection. Moreover, the matter of Ste. Marie bothered him. Father Lucien had been Jeered out of the village, and he knew that If the bishop heard of it he would he trans ferred to another parish. Father Lu cien loved St. Boniface, where he had spent all his life. He had sent to Quebec for a book on single-stick exercises, which he had seen advertised In an old magazine. He had become interested, and had fashioned a fine singlestick from a pliant hazel bough. Father Lucien followed the Instructions given in the book with patient care, and with the best results. He was very thorough in ail that lie did. His muscles begun to grow, his physical health became excellent. Soon he became quite ex pert. It was a sight to see the cure practicing lunges in the seclusion of his study, among the theological vol umes; but nobody had seen him except his old housekeeper, and it took sev eral minutes to convince the old lady that her revered charge hud not gone suddenly insane. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Nell Gwynn. Unlike many of the favorites of kings. Nell Gwyn was not thrown out of balance by the attention of royalty. Even though her Illiteracy was of a pronounced character in those days, when many of a higher rank were un lettered. Nell, the orange seller of the Theater Royal, was received In the best London society, for her anima tion, humor and kiudly nature seemed to have more than overbalanced her defects, and her many acts of charity gained her the lasting esteem and af fection of the people. According to Burnet and Evelyn, the last words of Charles II were for her: “Let not poor Nelly starve." was the dying sentence of the monarch of England. Earth Gives Light to Moon. Everything reflects light more or less. Sun s light shining on earth Is reflected to moon, exactly as sun’s light shining on inoon is reflected to earth to produce moonshine. This ‘earth shine” can be observed on the darker part of moon when conditions are favorable. Won’t Sweeten Coffee. "Sweet are the uses of adversity,’* but we have uo u«• for it.—Boston Transcript