Bonaventure

ught the first news of him. An officer making up a force of picked men for an expedition to carry important despatches eastward across the Mississippi and far awa

thène and Chaouache, with their families and f

se been in

two or

not been

as the bravest fel

e two simultaneous oaths of admiration. Zoséphine softly pinched her mothe

her message except that

N

her mother's shoulde

is l

sh of scorn was just disappearing from the girl's eyes. She gave a

e of absence. H

that the guess was a good one, and that Zos

e gave him a quick, tender look that thrilled him from head to foot, then lifted her brows

possession of him. The priest sometimes seemed to himself cruel, so well did it please him to observe the magnitude Bona

g the few French works of the curé's small bookshelf. Silent on other subjects, on one he would talk till a pink spot glowed on either cheek-bone and his blue eye

nd the surgeon and physician of his mind. Thus the struggle brought him light. To the

that shows the light is increasing." Thus spake the curé to hi

his game of solitaire; but as he slowly laid one card upon

definitions of mere right and rights. No, boy; you will ever be a restless captive, pacing round and round those limits of your enclosure. Worse still i

topped. The player pushed the cards from him, pile by pile, leaned

body could do just as he pleased; if he had, as the governor would say, all his rights,-life,

y was

is because happiness pursued is never overtaken. And can you guess why th

his chair a red silk handkerchief and a pocket-worn note-book. He

you got that down? Very well-yes-the spelling could be improved, but that is no matter. Now wait a moment; let me walk some more. Now write: 'It is not good for man to be alone, because'-because-let me see; where-ah, yes!-'because rightly self is the'-Ah! no, no, my boy; not a capital S for 'self'-ah! that's the very point,-small s,-'because rightly self is the smallest part of us. Even God found it good not to be alone, but to

ions and strangers, in order that benevolence, yes, and even self-sacrifice,-mistakenly so called,-might have no lack of direction and occupation; and then bound the whole human family together b

xt day there was Zoséphine with her soft electric glances to make th

ing up fresh hanks of yarn; nor at the well with the drinking-pail, getting fresh water, as she might so easily have been, had she so chosen. Yonder was Sosthène hoeing leisurely in the little garden, and possibly the sunbonnet of la vieille half seen and half hidden among her lima-beans; but for the rest there was only the house, silent at best, or, worse, sending out through its half-open door the long, scornful No-o-o! of the maiden's unseen spinning-wheel. No matter the fame or grace of the rider. All in vain, my lad: pirouette as you will; sit your gallantest; let your hat blow off, and turn back, and at full speed lean down from the saddle, and snatch it airily from the ground, and turn again and gallop away; all is in vain. For by her

" said the yout

make haste in his return. And he did not, as it seemed. Day after day, in group after group, without shouting and without banners, with wounds and scars and tattered garments, so

f the sweet; the haunting fear of evil tidings from the absent rival would haunt no more. Life would be what it was to other lads,

hey said; he could not come with them, for he had not been paroled with them; he had been missing-taken prisoner, no doubt-in the very last fight

eemed to offer an unuttered accusation. Least of all could he bear the glance of Zoséphine. He did not have to bear it. S

nto the face of the curé. And lest accusation should spring up there, he had omitted his confession f

rs, the curé was aroused by the

" He rose fro

st the darkness of an inner door he saw dimly

onaventure? Come her

lad, noiselessly moving near. T

ot been asl

es

had bad dreams

ly

hat wa

was a

about-'Thanas

es

the boy's small, slender hands i

id you

s dead. I dream

you like to get into bed here with me? No?-or

to bed any more. I want

u are not thorough

ng to-night of all you have told me-of all you said that

ld man, does this mean that you have come to the end of all self-service?-that self is

es

y knows whether I am wise o

mbed half upon the bed, buried his face in the pries

to himself as he clasped him ti