Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1934-02-15, Page 6THURSDAY, FJ3IJBUARY 15, 1931 THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE Captain Midnight by L. Arthur Cunningham SYNOPSIS Yvonne Caron, one of the most beautiful ladies of early French Quebec is being forced into mar­ riage with and by Simon Girard, an unscrupulous lawyer. Her; brother Paul is deep in debt tliro’ gambling with Girard. The cere­ mony, however, is interrupted by the notorious Catain Midnight, Robin Hood of the French colony, who marries Yvonne in order to save the girl’s vast estates. i I i i Yvonne fled from that unhallow- ( ed place, not daring to glance; back. The windmill with its dirt-! grimed windows an old, old man watery eyes. She once she had set road. Another horse, a large chest­ colored brute that she knew at once stood near her own mount and on a gray boulder by the roadside sat its owner, Jeane Pierre Martel. Her -cheeks burned as, seeing him she thought of the letter she had received from Leonie d’Armour. She had brought it with her. She would not speak of it, she decided. It would not make any difference in her relations with him anyway. She had from the first tried hard to treat him with coldness; to keep him at hie distance. And he had seemed not to mind or if he did mind, he certainly did not show it. Seeing her, he sprang to his feet with an easy agility and bowed low His face was very grave to-day ano the malicious taunting smile that so often twisted his mouth, was absent His lips were a thin line end, foi- the first time in her acquaintance with him, she experienced an emo­ tion towards him that did not make her love him less—its name was fear “I am again fortunate,” he said “I did not look to see you here to­ day. I had heard, in my the trouble your brother course, he is not guilty; have prit? your ardly tain Midnight.” “But is it nonsense ?” Yvonne. “I—I talked with morning. He told me he tain Midnight. He could been mistaken. I know he was- not lying to me.” “Bien! That may be. But of whai value is it? He has, I understand, no way of proving that it was Cap­ tain have man seem old women. I would that I were en­ trusted with the fellow’s capture, I promise you, I’d have him in no time—o—he plucked a daisy from the ground—“just as easily as one plucks a flower.” Yvonne started. Why had he said that? She glanced at him, but his stern countenance was not easy to read and he stared down at the lit­ tle flower he had pulled. “Do you think flowers have a language, truly?” he asked, giving her a momentary smile. “Oh, I sup­ pose I am a fool to talk about flow­ ers when I know you are so con­ cerned about Paul.” “Yes, I am conceerned about him m’s-ieur. But there is nothing more that I or anyone else can do for him All that there was to be done, has been done. Yes, I do think that, flowers have a language and, as- with all languages, there are lies to be told by the “Yes?” said ly. “Yes. Life reminded her of with bleared and sighed with relief foot on the high- retreat of is in. Of but they real cul- no-nsense, this cow- no suspicion of the They dismiss, as brother’s claim, that murder was the work of Cap- retorted. Paul this saw Cap- not have Midnight. And what chance they of bringing the highway- to trial? None. They can not to catch him. Pouf! They are flowers.” Jean Pierre curious- seems full of lies. Your own life, Monsieur Martel, since you came to Quebec, has been a lie. I learned that today.” “Eh!” Jean Pierre -cocked his head at her. “What is this you tell me? I am found out to- be not what ( | Under the unwavering stare of , Captain Midnight’s eyes, under the . > menacing muzzle of his- pistol, Si- 1 mon Girard did as he was told. 1 From under the tile he ‘produced ’ the trappings of death and the ring ■ he had coveted. He moved like an ! automaton! driven by a will that i burned into his own weak resist- i ance, out right through it, more by the power of that awful eyes, ! the face, even that masque could not ' hide from Girard’s frightened fancy. Now like twin spectres of the night they stood arrayed.. “You might be Capain Midnight himself,” taunted the highwayman with a weird laugh. “But for your face and for your heart, monsieur. 1 However, you will serve. Come, we ride with death tonight, you and I. , And the ring is- tight upon your finger and the thongs will be tight upon your wrist and, beneath white Barca’s belly, your ankles will be Simon, recalling the appari- tied. Is is not a cunning scheme; even that master-minded Bigot could think up nothing better." “Where—where are you me? Name of God, monsieur, would you do with me?” “You have a death, Girard—it is, alas, the fate of those who wear que. Haste, we lose time, of the way I will conduct Barca know the road—the road to the windmill at Sillery—there is your rendezvous, my friend.” Into the darkness they went. Cap­ tain Midnight’s pistol touching his companion’s ribs as they walked to J a white shadow, deftness, Girard’s gether, his ankles joined by a cord beneath the horse’s belly, his hand­ kerchief made a gag for his mouth. Captain Midnjight mounted behind him and they rode to -Sillery, to where the old windmill towered lofty against the sky, with death be­ hind its windows. Captain Girard, I heard that Bi­ got commanded every man to shoot straight.] Adieu, Barca—adieu. It was his wish—and yo-urs-—au mou­ lin!” The great horse galloped free and fast, seeming to ha-te its burden. Captain Midnight watched and waited, listening to his hoof beats that made a grim tattoo of deatn upon the road. Captain Midnight waited— until the grim windows of the mil vomited streaks1 of fire-. “It is done, Laurent,” he said gently, sobbingly. “It is has fallen into a pit of making. We fiend, to God, severely than Paul Caron .. earth or in heaven could explain away the ring fitted so tightly on Simon Girard’s1 finger. Bigot, fright­ ened, swore that it was only a trick of Captain Midnight’s to put the guilt upon Simon Girard and .save the brother of her he loved. But no one believed him. Indeed, Jean Pierre Martel came forward to say that he had been riding home late that night, had seen the ma-squed man upon the road and had followed him—to Simon Girard’s h-o-use. Clever minds saw the Intendant’s crafty hand in the sordid business and Bigot, to save his own face, at length consented to -believe that Girard had been the guilty man and had tain and had & I am reputed to be. I have been go-; lows, he had felt at times an awful ing under false pretences?” ! “Yes. Armand de Guast knew you in France. It was through him [ I learned about you.” “You found I was a sheep Pierre. “And I suppose you disappointed in me?” “No; but in myself that I did I not am “But Are Yow WEARY? Do you find it hard to do things some days? Days when body and brain feel oppressed? Incomplete elimination of body wastes is prob­ably the reason. It is most likely the reason even though you are ub regular as can be in your daily habits, because regularity is no guarantee of completeness. Follow these sim­ ple health rules: Eat moderately, sleep suffi­ ciently, get lots of fresh air and exercise—and once or twice every week take a bracing, sparkling glass, of Andrews Liver Salt. An­ drews will purify and invigorate your whole system and help Nature end those tired, “headaehey" da>a. 'let Andrews Liver Salt from your drugmst. 35c and OQc in tins. 75c for the new, Lnt. o. bottle. Sole Agents: John A. Huston Cm, Ltd., Toronto. 2 then, took invi-suggestion of eyes staring at "him, watching him as a man marked with death. All night, in his of the morrow, of the trap set for Captain Midnight, of the way they had brought about his ruin)—-thr-o’ the girl he loved. Loved!—It was folly for him to love who dared not show his visage to the eyes of the world. tion of the highwayman at Beauman- oir, shuddered, and got up from his chair, to go close the doors that opened out upon the garden. It was late, but he would not sleep until he learned that Bigot who had promised to advise him, that the sword no longer hung by a thread above liis neck. Simon Girard never closed the doors. As if he had taken shape there against the blue-black oblong of night framed by the still and pistol in Midnight, thin hard “Bon soir, night softly, this night, a visitor?” Girard half lifted his arms, drop­ ped them weakly by his- sides-. His mouth, his lips were dry. There was a salty bitterness in his mouth which his tongue stuck. And his body a craven contraction fear. “What- me, monsieur?" he his mind was a daze, panic. “I would have you you murdered iM-oise you would let an innocent youth bear the blame, why force that youth’s sister to purchase her brother’s life at the price set by Judas cannot things I Girard, hideous j You know the masque is just—just i the lid of hell and to lift it, to see | what is beneath it—I see the make your fear even greater. Yo-u did it, Gir­ ard—you—” The highwayman’s- voice was- a low steady staccato, each word was a stab into Girard’s shrinking heart. “For a woman you sent a man to his death and he found something worse than death. The brand they put upon him shut him off from life, from love, from the smile in a woman’s eyes-, from the gentle slasp of a little child’s- hands- doomed him to a darkness than that of the pit. Girard— Captain Midnight the masque. Girard, vulsed, looked upon face, the eyes that s-t-ared fixedly, that seemed to grin when the mouth did not smile.’ He could not look at that face. He slumped down in a chair, in his- own eyes the look of a cornered rat. The masque cover­ ed the gargoyle visage. IM-idnight laughed. “A pretty picture, eh, with you.” "To—take with me.” "But yes—to take with hell. Come. It is time your journey, monsieur. Your cloak and hat—get them—and your que—” Girard’s lips drew back in a like a beast’s. "What do you -say! You are You had better go- from here- "Come!" said Captain Midnight gently. “There beneath the hearth stone in the corner—your black cloak and tri-cornered hat, your masque—” “You devil!” How, in the name of “I was with you, Girard, with yon when you rode from Moise Cordet’s house, beside you when you camo here, at your window I saw you puv them there. Go—get them now-— - and get the great emerald—that you took from the dead man’s fin­ ger after Paul Caron had fled. Youi greed,. Girard—your accursed greed —you see. And when they find tlib moneylender’s jewel upon your finger —ah, then they will know. Make haste; my finger moves upon this trigger—” that would end now—this Girard sat by the -warm fire study, and thought pleasantly ' trust my own estimate of you. ! sorry, xn’sieur." “Then do not be. I have very happy to know you. You ever, are not happy, something—tell me! It may be that I can help you.” “You will hate me.” Jean Pierre came to her and took her hands in his. “Not if you condemned me death, Yvonne.” “Please! And why did you that! I am condemning him death, you see. That was why I came here. I put a red rose in the hollow of the oak tree over there by the mill, it; he down, it was do it. oh, I do not hate Captain Midnight. I would give my own life—’’ “That was the price they made you pay,” said Jean Pierre. His face was grim, his body tensed as if it were a steel blade bent back. “Cunnng,” he said to himself. “Devilishly -cun­ ning,” If you give them your hus­ band you save your brother. Can you be sure that Captain Midnight is guilty?” “I cannot; but I Paul is innocent, am faced with. It it will give me no “There will be peace,” said Jean Pierre. "Do not be afraid, Yvonne. Even though it may seem to you that you have betrayed Captain Midnight I think you will find him still your strongest protector. I did bid you before to trust in him." “You speak always in his favor— always—” “Because I knew him—and lovea him.” “And yet you do not despise me for what I have done?" You have done the only thing th.0Uglit of that does you could do. Even he would ab­ solve you more readily than I.” Together they rode back to city. It was sunset. Simon Girard, for all that he shot down a defenseless man shouldered the blame off on another still found a considerable enjoyment, in life. He did not leave < burg to go to the city the < lowing his cowardly crime, apprised him by messenger success of their scheming; “After to­ morrow,” wrote the Intendant “the black shadow will fall no more across, our path.” Release—dt meant release fior Gir ard from that human spectre that had haunted him, that could, if it were permitted longer to walk the earth exact from him a. penalty al­ most as terrible as the thing he had done to Hilaire, for that; his only regret was that St. Hilaire has escaped the hands of the savages or had been permitted long­ er to live when death had been a mercy for him. As long as Laurent de St. Hilaire rode beneath the cloak of Captain Midnight, Simon Girard knew that his own life was wortn very little indeed. Easily, Captain Midnight might have destroyed him long before this, still in Girard’s ears sounded the strange man’s warning of a' death more terrible than death—one to match in its agony the fate of St. Hilaire him­ self. Girard had thought ceaseless­ ly of that; he had walked fearfully/ trembling through life, shunning I the darkness, seeking companionship always and yet, even among his fel- am see—” Yvonne dismay. been lioiv- There is 1 i to say to Tonight he will come for will be taken—perhaps shot I—-I feel like a traitor. But that or Paul’s death. I had to I bargained will them—but doorway, straight and steady the his hand, stood Captain And his mouth was a line that smiled. ” said Captain, Mid- “You did not expect, to in of taking what with. often rendezvous to the mas- A pari you and shape motionless in the Captain Midnight had the the speed of a conjurer, wrists were lashed to- can be sure that You see what I has tortured me, peace ever.’’ the had and Charles- day fol- Bigot - of the Laurent Lemoine de St. He felt no compunction Troubled With Her Liver Coated Tongue Every Morning Mrs. A. J. Lansky, Alberton, Sask., writes:—"I had trouble with my liver, and every morning I would wake up with a thickly coated tongue, and would feel so tired I found it hard to do my housework. One day I read about Milbum’s Laxa-Liver Pills. I got two vials and am now feeling well again, and am able to attend to my household duties without any trouble.” "* F6r sale at all drug and general stores; put up only by The T, Milburn Co., Limited, Toronto, Ont. of-what you would have said huskily; a choas of tell me why Cordet, why Iscariot—blood. Ah! You tell me. There are so many If .■would have of you, Simon You know the story, the story behind this masque. ■it worse You did; that, jerked away his face con- the hideous I -Ca-ptain to take you to to start mas- snarl done. He hisi own the othershall leave who can punish more man.” was free; nothing on met the fate he deserved. Cap- Midnight’s justice was swift deadly; no man doubted that it miscarried in this case. Jean Pierre had come home with Paul on his release. Jean Pierre was very quiet, and pale and his eyes were serious until he could’ look at her when a dancing, impish light of .mischief would come into their grey depths. And once whey they were alone for a moment he said ot her— “Was I not right, milady—about Captain (Midnight? I knew he would not fail you. More than ever now, I suppose, your allegiance is given to him, your husbandi—” He saw her mouth tremble and her eyes b'link swiftly. He came close to her side and laid his1 hand on her arm. “Do not fear,” he said. "Do not such as you, Yvonne, only happiness, dear—be true to- not regret—” “Thank you, monsieur,” she dabbing at her eyes with her chief. “I—4 shall follow your ad­ vice.” “Nd! No! Follow the advice of your heart.” “But I married him . I am doub­ ly in his debt. How can I be guid­ ed by my lieart? And I know that he is deserving of you.” “Faith! He Has a mighty cham­ pion in you/’ said Yvonne coldly, despair. For there can be lieve me, my and: you will Be- him said ker- luck! said Paul. “She a happy woman, Jean Pierre avoided Yvonne’s could not stand, even he answer- Au revoir, Midnight’s” was going She would The pros- gentle ser- the The river way. what he mark his presence in not his her in the saw hlsi teeth did ex- all her weak- .She did< not touch it. An incontrollable, that had her before, seized her now, motion swift as light she up and snatched the mas- on his would punish- and ’turned her shoulder to him. Once—once you yourself did forget youi' loyalty to him and—and toox what was his alone." “Loyalty,” said Jean Pierre “does not extend that far.” And, quite to her surprise, he caught her to him and kissed her lips. “I envy him so!" he said I do think you love him." Paul came into the room and shortly after Jean Pierre leave of them, declining their tation to stay. “I should like to," he said re­ gretfully, “But I must go home, to my lonely dwelling. Shortly I going back to France, you “To France!” It was who echoed1 his words in “You are going back.” “Yes," he said gravely. “|My work here is done. I—well you see, I am going to take a wife.” “Good will be Pierre." Jean eyes; he for a little while, what he saw there —pride that fought with sorrow and lost. “I, too, Monsieur Mortel,” she said dully, “wish you great happi­ ness." “It will be as great," "as Captain Midnight’s mes amis.” “As great as Captain -—Yvonne, walking that night in her garden still heard those words. They were only a mockery. He was cruel to her. And now he away—back to France, not see him any more, pect of losing him—the lousiness of his face, his whimsical smile and lightly teasing ways—she could not bear to think of life with­ out him. And she chided herself for thinking so of a man who was going to wed another. After all, those kisses that he had taken so lightly meant nothing to him. No doubt he thought they counted for nothing with her; while, in very truth, they were all—all—she loved' them, she would always re­ member them. Impatiently she waited for coming of Captain Midnight, garden wall was close to the shore. He would come that She steeled herself for this1 meeting Let him accuse her of having be­ trayed him, of having made sport of the pretty try,sting with a rose, of having used it treacherously against him. Let him do or say would she did not care. This time she did coming nor suspect until he stood beside starlit gloom and she flash w-hitely. “Bonsoir,” he said. pect me tonight." “I did, she answered, and strength seemed to become ness before the quiet assurance of him. Yet almost angrily, she stared up at him, striving to read some­ thing—'something she could not name in those eyes behind the black domino. “You sent me this.” (He held out to her a rose—the rose that would have led him to death, inpulse, come to With a reached que from his face. She must see- see for herself if what they said was true. The starlight shone face—enough— "Jean Pierre!” "You little fiend. You spoil my fun. You shall be ed.” But the punishment was- siweet. "Jean Pierre,” she said -breath­ lessly. “You—you wear my |ring. You—it was—it was1 always you." "Always it was I,” he said smil­ ingly. "I whom you married— what a gift from heaven—<1 who came to you and kissed you and teased .you and loved you. I dared not let you know it was I, for at first you despised me and no.t until you told me of your letter did I dare—” "But, before you came to Que­ bec, Captain Midnight was1 here-— long before. They knew him, he was Laurent Lemoine de .St. Hilaire. They betrayed him to the Iroquois and something hideous happened to him—” "It has been avenged. He was' my brother.” "Your brother. But how—?” "My name is Marcel de (St, Hil­ aire. In France they knew me only as Jean Pierre Marel. long an actor, in my own plays, had some skill, not hear of a st. the hoards writing dramas. But. I was for I My family would Hilaire treading I liked it. There I learned many tricks—to throw a knife, to make of my own face a tragic masque with the aid of pigmentsi—-like un­ to poor Laurent’s. I learned too how to fool a maiden in the moon­ light with a trick of. voice and pseech; but until I met you I did not learn—to love." She could not speak, but the touch of her fingers on his cheek had the beaut -of a sonnet. “And your brother, Jean Pierre,” she said a length. “What of him?” “On a. hillside—out there—at Sillery, there is a little crossi—just of wood. He asked for that—to sleep there; he loved it. He asked me to settle the debts he left unpaid I -did. Shortly after I reached Que­ bec he came to me, I had met him the night before, and hew as loth, poor fellow, to tell me who he was. I came to New France to seek him, for I never believed him dead bien! He heard of your plight, and would have served you. A party of dra­ goons sighetd him on the u-oad to Sillery and- pursued him. He came to me then. He was hit—mortally But before he died, I learned— enough. And all is done- that I came here to do—and moie; I did not come to- find happiness, but it is mine, Yvonne.” ‘And Captain Midnight rides no more,” she said softly, gazing off to the distant hills, to the Sillery woods, where he gnarled oak stood with the ancient windmill towering raggedly -above it. “Perhaps1,” said Jean Pierre, “he rides still—irides on white Barca- whom he loved well—across the sa­ vannahs of the night.” THE END ZURICH MAN 70, DUES ON RABBIT DRIVE Frank Kochems, aged 70, of Zur­ ich village, dropped dead while on a rabbit drive. Mr. Kochems was with a party of men- and had1 walk­ ed- about '500 yards when the man nearest to him saw him drop to> one knee. Little attention was paid to this, as- it was believed the aged hunter had sighted a rabbit and was preparing to shoot. However, when Mr. Kochems rolled over his com­ panion nan to investigate. He found Mr. Kochems was- dead. Dr. P. J. O’Dwyer, of Zurich was called and the body was removed to the home of Garnet Jacobs on the townline of Hay Township and was later taken to Zurich. It was found that no shots- had been fired' by the veteran hunter. No inquest will be held. Mr. Kochems wa-s at work the day before in the Kalbfleisch mill. Sur­ viving are Mrs. K-ochem and three daughters and1 two sons. Coleman Mantles ARE BUILT TO LAST LONGER The amount of light you ’ get from your gasoline lamp or lantern depends largely upon the kind of mantles you use. To be sure of Jonger service, better light and more light, always use genuine Coleman Mantles on Coleman Lamps and Lanterns. Coleman Mantles are scienti­ fically made. They are correct in size, design and texture. No side seams to split. Reinforced across bottom. Saturated with highest grade light-giving chem­ icals. They are made stronger to last longer. Look for the name “Coleman” stamped oh each mantle. Always ask for the genuine. (mxib) ASK YOUR LOCAL DEALER or write THE COLEWIAN LAMP & STOVE CO., LTD. Toronto, Ontario