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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Outlaw, by Anonymous
+
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+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
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+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: The Hunted Outlaw
+ or, Donald Morrison, The Canadian Rob Roy
+
+Author: Anonymous
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9331]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on September 23, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED OUTLAW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders from images generously made available
+by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+HUNTED OUTLAW;
+
+OR
+
+DONALD MORRISON,
+
+THE CANADIAN ROB ROY
+
+
+
+_"Truth is stranger than Fiction."_
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE.
+
+Psychology strips the soul and, having laid it bare, confidently
+classifies every phase of its mentality. It has the spring of every
+emotion carefully pigeon-holed; it puts a mental finger upon every
+passion; it maps out the soul into tabulated territories of feeling; and
+probes to the earliest stirrings of motive.
+
+A crime startles the community. The perpetrator is educated, wise,
+enjoys the respect of his fellows. His position is high: his home is
+happy: he has no enemies.
+
+Psychology is stunned. The deed is incredible. Of all men, this was the
+last who could be suspected of mental aberration. The mental diagnosis
+decreed him healthy. He was a man to grace society, do credit to
+religion, and leave a fair and honored name behind him.
+
+The tabulation is at fault.
+
+The soul has its conventional pose when the eyes of the street are upon
+it. Psychology's plummet is too short to reach those depths where motive
+has its sudden and startling birth.
+
+Life begins with the fairest promise, and ends in darkness.
+
+It is the unexpected that stuns us.
+
+Heredity, environment and temperament lead us into easy calculations
+of assured repose and strength, and permanency of mental and moral
+equilibrium.
+
+The act of a moment makes sardonic mockery of all our predictions.
+
+The whole mentality is not computable.
+
+Look searchingly at happiness, and note with sadness that a tear stains
+her cheek.
+
+A dark, sinister thread runs through the web of life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+ "Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
+ Their homely joys and destiny obscure,
+ Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,
+ The short and simple annals of the poor." _Gray_.
+
+The Counties of Compton and Beauce, in the Province of Quebec, were
+first opened up to settlement about fifty years ago. To this spot a
+small colony of Highlanders from the Skye and Lewis Islands gravitated.
+They brought with them the Gaelic language, a simple but austere
+religion, habits of frugality and method, and aggressive health. That
+generation is gone, or almost gone, but the essential characteristics of
+the race have been preserved in their children. The latter are generous
+and hospitable, to a fault. Within a few miles of the American frontier,
+the forces of modern life have not reached them. Shut in by immense
+stretches of the dark and gloomy "forest primeval," they live drowsily
+in a little world where passions are lethargic, innocence open-eyed, and
+vice almost unknown. Science has not upset their belief in Jehovah. God
+is real, and somewhat stern, and the minister is his servant, to be
+heard with respect, despite the appalling length of his sermons.
+Sincerely pious, the people mix their religion with a little whiskey,
+and the blend appears to give satisfaction. The farmers gather at the
+village inn in the evening, and over a "drap o' Scotch" discuss the
+past. As the stimulant works, generous sentiments are awakened in the
+breast; and the melting songs of Robbie Burns--roughly rendered, it may
+be--make the eye glisten. This is conviviality; but it has no relation
+to drunkenness. Every household has its family altar; and every night,
+before retiring to rest, the family circle gather round the father or
+the husband, who devoutly commends them to the keeping of God.
+
+The common school is a log hut, built by the wayside, and the
+"schoolmarm" is not a pretentious person. But, what the school cannot
+supply, a long line of intelligent, independent ancestors have supplied,
+robust, common sense and sagacity.
+
+Something of the gloom and sternness of the forest, something of the
+sadness which is a conscious presence, is in their faces. Their humor
+has a certain savor of grimness. For the rest, it may be said that they
+are poor, and that they make little effort to be anything else. They do
+a little farming and a little lumbering. They get food and clothing,
+they are attached to their homesteads, and the world with all its
+tempting possibilities passes them by. The young people seek the States,
+but even they return, and end their days in the old home. They marry,
+and get farms, and life moves with even step, the alternating seasons,
+with their possibilities, probably forming their deepest absorptions. It
+remains only to be said that, passionately attached to the customs, the
+habits of thought of their forefathers, the Highlanders of the Lake
+Megantic region are intensely clannish. Splendidly generous, they would
+suffer death rather than betray the man who had eaten of their salt.
+Eminently law-abiding, they would not stretch out a hand to deprive of
+freedom one who had thrown himself upon their mercy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DONALD MORRISON APPEARS ON THE SCENE.
+
+Life, could we only be well assured of it, is at the best when it is
+simple. The woods of Lake Megantic in the summer cast a spell upon the
+spirit. They are calm and serene, and just a little sad. They invite to
+rest, and their calm strength and deep silence are a powerful rebuke to
+passion.
+
+Amongst the deep woods of Marsden, Donald Morrison spent his young
+years. His parents were in fairly comfortable circumstances, as the term
+is understood in Compton. Donald was a fair-haired boy, whose white
+forehead his mother had often kissed in pride as she prepared him, with
+shining morning face, for the village school. Donald was the pride of
+the village. Strong for his years and self-assertive, the boys feared
+him. Handsome and fearless, and proud and masterful, his little girl
+school-mates adored him. They adored him all the more that he thought it
+beneath his boyish dignity to pay them attention. This is true to all
+experience. Donald was passionate. He could not brook interference. He
+even thus early, when he was learning his tablets at the village school,
+developed those traits, the exercise of which, in later life, was to
+make his name known throughout the breadth of the land. Generous and
+kind-hearted to a degree, his impatience often hurried him into actions
+which grieved his parents. He was generally in hot water at school. He
+fought, and he generally won, but his cause was not always right. He was
+supple, and he excelled in the village games.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A LITTLE GIRL WITH YELLOW HAIR.
+
+Minnie Duncan went to the same school with Donald. She was a shy little
+thing with big brown eyes, which looked at you wistfully, and a mass
+of yellow hair, which the sun in the summer mornings loved to burnish.
+Minnie at the age of ten felt drawn to Donald, as timid women generally
+feel drawn toward masterful men, ignoring the steadier love of gentler
+natures. Donald had from the start constituted himself her protector
+in a lordly way. He had once resented a belittling remark which a
+schoolmate had used towards her, by soundly thrashing the urchin who
+uttered it. Minnie pitied the lad, but she secretly adored Donald. He
+was her hero. Donald was good enough to patronize her. Minnie was too
+humble to resent this attitude. Was he not handsome and strong, with
+fearless blue eyes; were not all her little girl companions jealous of
+her? Did he not go to and come from school with her and carry her books?
+Above all, had he not done battle in her behalf?
+
+Minnie Duncan was the only daughter of John and Mary Duncan, who lived
+close to the Morrisons', upon a comfortable farm. She was dearly loved,
+and she returned the affection bestowed upon her with the beautiful
+_abandon_ of that epoch when the tide of innocent trust and love is
+at the full. They had never expressed their hopes in relation to her
+future; but the wish of their hearts was that she might grow into a
+modest, God-fearing woman, find a good farmer husband, and live and die
+in the village.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+"MINNIE, MINNIE," SHE SAID, "I MUST GUARD MY SECRET."
+
+Donald Morrison was now twenty-three. The promise of his boyhood had
+been realized. He was well made, with sinews like steel. He had a blonde
+moustache, clustering hair, a well shaped mouth, firm chin. His blue
+eyes had a proud, fearless look. The schoolmarm had taught Donald the
+three "R's"; he had read a little when he could spare the money for
+books; and at the period we are now dealing with he was looked up to
+by all in the village as a person of superior knowledge. His youth and
+young manhood had been spent working upon his father's farm. Latterly he
+had been working upon land which his father had given him, in the hope
+that he would marry and settle down. He had become restless. The village
+was beginning to look small, and he asked himself with wonderment how
+he had been content in it so long. The work was hard and thankless. Was
+this life? Was there nothing beyond this? Was there not not a great
+world outside the forest? What was this? Was it not stagnation? The
+woods--yes, the woods were beautiful, but why was it they made him sad?
+Why was it that when the sun set against the background of the purple
+line of trees, he felt a lump in his throat? Why, when he walked along
+the roads in the summer twilight, did the sweet silence oppress him?
+He could not tell. He knew that he wanted away. He longed to be in the
+world of real men and women, where joy and suffering, and the extremest
+force of passion had active play.
+
+Minnie was now a schoolmarm--neat and simple, and sweet. Her figure was
+slender, and her hair a deep gold, parted simply in the centre, brought
+over the temples in crisp waves, and wound into a single coil behind.
+Her head was small and gracefully poised; her teeth as white as
+milk, because they had never experienced the destructive effects of
+confectionery; her cheeks, two roses in their first fresh bloom, because
+she had been reared upon simple food; her figure, slight, supple and
+well proportioned. She was eighteen. Her beautiful brown eyes wore a
+sweetly serious look. She had thought as a woman. She was pious, but
+somehow when she wandered through the woods, and noted how the wild
+flowers smiled upon her, and listened to the birds as they shook their
+very throats for joy, she could only think of the love, not the anger of
+God. God was good. His purpose was loving. How warm and beautiful and
+sweet was the sun! The sky was blue, and was there not away beyond the
+blue a place where the tears that stained the cheek down here would be
+all wiped away? Sorrow! Oh, yes, there was sorrow here, and somehow, the
+dearest things we yearned for were denied us. There were heavy burdens
+to bear, and life's contrasts were agonizing, and faith staggered a
+little; but when Minnie went to the woods with these thoughts, and
+looked into the timid eye of the violet, she said to herself softly,
+"God is love."
+
+A simple creature, you see, and not at all clever. I doubt if she had
+ever heard of Herbert Spencer, much less read his works. If you had told
+that she had been evolved from a jelly-fish, her brown eyes would only
+have looked at you wonderingly. You would have conveyed nothing to her.
+
+I must tell you that Minnie was romantic. The woods had bred in her the
+spirit of poetry. She loved during the holidays to go to the woods with
+a book, and, seating herself at the foot of a tree, give herself up
+to dreams--of happy, innocent love, and of calm life, without cloud,
+blessed by the smile of heaven.
+
+
+
+Love is a sudden, shy flame. Love is a blush which mounts to the cheek,
+and then leaves it pale. Love is the trembling pressure of hands which,
+for a delicious moment, meet by stealth. Love is sometimes the deep
+drawn sigh, the languor that steeps the senses, the sudden trembling
+to which no name can be given. Minnie was in love. The hero of her
+childhood was the hero of her womanhood. She loved Donald modestly but
+passionately; but she constantly said to herself in terror, "Oh, Minnie,
+Minnie, you must take care; guard your secret; never betray yourself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.
+
+ "Oh, happy love, where love like this is found!
+ Oh, heart-felt raptures, bliss beyond compare!
+ I've paced this weary mortal round,
+ And sage experience bids me this declare,
+ If heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,
+ One cordial in this melancholy vale,
+ 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair
+ In other's arms breathe out the tender tale,
+ Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale."
+
+Donald and Minnie had grown up together. They had shared in the social
+life of the village. They had been to little parties together. They had
+gone to the same church, sat in the same pew, sang the psalms from the
+same book. They had walked out together in the summer evenings, and both
+had felt the influence of the white moonlight which steeped the trees
+along the Marsden road. They had, so to say, appropriated each other,
+and yet there had been no word of love between them. They had spoken
+freely to each other; their hands had touched, and both had thrilled at
+the contact, and yet they were only friends! The village had settled it
+that they were lovers and that they would be married, and felt satisfied
+with its own decision, because both were popular.
+
+It was a summer afternoon, and they were in the woods together. Minnie
+had a basket for wild strawberries. None had been gathered. They were
+seated at the trunk of a tree. Donald had told her that he thought of
+leaving the country, and she felt stunned. Her heart stopped. She became
+as pale as death.
+
+"Yes, Minnie," he said, "I am tired of this life. I want away. I want to
+push my fortune. What is there here for me? What future is there for me?
+I want to go to the States. I can get along there. This life is too dull
+and narrow, and all the young fellows have left."
+
+"Perhaps I feel too that it is a little dull, Donald," Minnie said, "but
+not being a man, I suppose desires like yours would seem improper When
+you go," and her voice trembled a little, "I will feel the dullness all
+the more keenly."
+
+"And do you think it will not cost me an effort to sever our
+friendship?" Donald said with emotion; "we have been playmates in
+childhood and friends in riper years. I have been so accustomed to you
+that to leave you will seem like moving into darkness out of sunlight.
+Minnie," he went on, taking her hand, and speaking with fervor, "can
+we only be friends? We say that we are friends; but in my heart I have
+always loved you. When I began to love you I know not. I feel now that I
+cannot leave without telling you. Yes, Minnie, I love you, and you only;
+and it was the hope of bettering my prospects only to ask you to share
+them, that induced me to think of leaving. But I cannot leave without
+letting you know what I feel. Just be frank with me, and tell me, do you
+return my love? I cannot see your face. What! tears! Minnie, Minnie, my
+darling, you do care a little for me!"
+
+She could not look at him, for tears blinded her, but she said, simply,
+"Oh, Donald, I have loved you since childhood."
+
+"My own dear Minnie!" He caught her to his breast, and kissed her sweet
+mouth, her cheek, her hands and hair. He took off her summer hat, and
+smoothed her golden tresses; he pressed his lips to her white forehead,
+and called her his darling, his sweet Minnie.
+
+Minnie lay in his arms sobbing, and trembling violently. The restraint
+she had imposed on herself was now broken down, and she gave way to the
+natural feelings of her heart. She had received the first kisses of
+love. She was thrilled with delight and vague alarm.
+
+"Don't tremble, darling," he said, after a long silence.
+
+"Oh, Donald, I can't help it. What is this feeling? What does it mean?"
+
+It was unconscious passion!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+"SUCH PARTINGS AS CRUSH THE LIFE OUT OF YOUNG HEARTS."
+
+Donald had made up his mind to go West In vain his parents dissuaded
+him.
+
+Young love is hopeful, and Donald had pictured reunion in such
+attractive guise, that Minnie was half reconciled to his departure.
+
+But the parting was sad.
+
+Donald had spent the last evening at Minnie's parents.
+
+The clock has no sympathy with lovers. It struck the hours
+remorselessly. The parting moment had come. Minnie accompanied her lover
+to the door. He took her in his arms. He kissed her again and again. He
+said hopeful things, and he kissed away her tears. He stroked her hair,
+and drew her head upon his breast. They renewed their vows of love.
+
+Minnie said, through her sobs, "God bless you, Donald."
+
+He tore himself away!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+"TO THE WEST, TO THE WEST, THE LAND OF THE FREE."
+
+"Bully for Donald!"
+
+"Thar ain't no flies on him, boys, is thar?"
+
+"Warn't it neat?"
+
+"Knocked him out in one round, too!" The scene was a saloon in Montana.
+Six men were gathered round a table playing poker. The light was dim,
+the liquor was villainous, and the air was dense with tobacco smoke. It
+was a cowboy party, and one of the cowboys was Donald Morrison. He had
+adopted the free life of the Western prairies. He had learned to ride
+with the grace and shoot with the deadly skill of an Indian.
+
+'Twas a rough life, and he knew it. He mixed but little with the "Boys,"
+but the latter respected him for his manly qualities. He was utterly
+without fear. Courage is better than gold on the plains of Montana. He
+took to the life, partly because it was wild and adventurous, partly
+because he found that he could save money at it. The image of Minnie
+never grew dim in his heart, and he looked forward to a modest little
+home in his native village, graced and sweetened by the presence of a
+true woman.
+
+On this night he had yielded to the persuasion of a few of the boys, and
+went with them to "Shorty's" saloon for a game of "keerds."
+
+"Shorty" had a pretty daughter, who was as much out of place amid her
+coarse surroundings as violets in a coal mine.
+
+She was quite honest, and she served her father's customers with
+modesty. Kitty--that was her name--secretly admired the handsome Donald,
+who had always treated her with respect upon the infrequent occasions of
+his visits.
+
+On this night, while the party were at cards, "Wild Dick" Minton
+entered. He was a desperado, and it was said that he had killed at least
+two men in his time.
+
+"Wild Dick" swaggered in, roughly greeted the party, called for drink,
+and sat down in front of a small table close to the card players.
+
+Kitty served him with the drink.
+
+"Well, Kitty," he said with coarse gallantry, "looking sort o' purty
+to-night, eh? Say, gimme a kiss, won't yer?"
+
+Kitty blushed crimson with anger, but said nothing.
+
+"Wild Dick" got up and took her chin in his hand.
+
+"How dare you?" she said, stamping her foot with indignation.
+
+"My! how hoighty-toighty we are! Well, if yer won't give a feller a
+kiss, I must take it," and Dick put his arm round her waist, and drew
+her towards him.
+
+At that moment Donald, who had been watching his behaviour with
+increasing disgust and anger, leaped up, caught him by the throat with
+his left hand, and exclaimed: "Let her go, you scoundrel, or I'll thrash
+the life out of you."
+
+Without a word Dick whipped out his shooter from his hip pocket;
+Donald's companions leaped from the table, concluding at once there
+was going to be blood, while "Old Shorty" ducked behind the counter in
+terror.
+
+Kitty stood rooted to the spot, expecting to see her defender fall at
+her feet with a bullet through his brain or heart.
+
+Donald, the moment that Dick pulled out the pistol, grasped the arm that
+held it as with a vice with his right hand, and, letting go his hold, of
+his throat, with his left he wrenched the weapon from him.
+
+Then he dealt him a straight blow in the face that felled him like an
+ox.
+
+Dick rose to his feet with murder in his eyes.
+
+With a cry of rage he rushed upon Donald. The latter had learned to box
+as well as shoot. He was quite calm, though very pale. He waited for
+the attack, and then, judging his opportunity, let out his left with
+terrific force. The blow struck Dick behind the ear, and he fell to the
+ground with a heavy thud.
+
+He rose to his feet, muttered something about _his_ time coming, and
+slunk out.
+
+Donald's victory over "Wild Dick," who was regarded as a bully, was
+hailed in the exclamations which head this chapter.
+
+Donald never provoked a quarrel, but, once engaged, he generally came
+out victorious.
+
+His prowess soon became bruited abroad, and he had the goodwill of all
+the wild fellows of that wild region.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HARD TIMES AT HOME.
+
+Life is hard in the Megantic district. A very small portion of the land
+is susceptible of cultivation. The crops are meagre, and when the family
+is provided for, there is very little left to sell off the farm. Money
+is scarce. There is very little to be made in lumber.
+
+When Donald went away there was a debt against his farm. He sent from
+time to time what he could spare to wipe it off. But the times were bad.
+Donald's father got deeper into debt. The outlook was not encouraging.
+
+"I wish Donald would come home," the old man frequently muttered. "I
+wish he would," his mother would say, and then she would cry softly to
+herself.
+
+Poverty is always unlovely.
+
+Too often it is crime!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+ "Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,
+ And fondly broods with miser care."
+
+"DEAREST DONALD,--I received your kind letter. That you are doing well,
+and saving money for the purpose you speak of, it is pleasant to hear.
+That you still love me is what is dearest to my heart. I may confess
+in this letter what I could scarcely ever say in your presence, that
+I think of you always. All our old walks are eloquent of the calm and
+happy past. When I sit beneath the tree where I first learned that you
+cared for me, my thoughts go back, and I can almost hear the tones of
+your voice. I feel lonely sometimes. Your letters are a great solace. If
+I feel a little sad I go to my room, and unburden my heart to Him who is
+not indifferent even to the sparrow's fall. Sometimes the woods seem
+mournful, and when the wind, in these autumn evenings, wails through the
+pines, I don't know how it is, but I feel tears in my eyes.
+
+"And now, Donald, what I am going to tell you will surprise you. We are
+going away to Springfield, in Massachusetts. A little property has been
+left father there, and he is going to live upon it. Location does not
+affect feeling. My heart is yours wherever I may be.
+
+"God bless you, dearest.
+
+"Your own
+
+"MINNIE."
+
+Donald read this letter thoughtfully.
+
+"My father going to the bad, and Minnie going away," he muttered.
+
+He rose from his seat, and walked the narrow room in which he lodged.
+
+"I will go home," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+"BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE, THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME."
+
+Donald Morrison is back to the simple life of Marsden again. Five years
+had changed him enormously. His figure had always promise of athletic
+suppleness. It was now splendidly compact. He left the type of the
+conventional farmer. He returned the picturesque embodiment of the far
+West. Perhaps, in his long locks, wide sombrero, undressed leggings, and
+prodigal display of shooting irons, there may have been a theatrical
+suggestion of Buffalo Bill.
+
+The village folk accepted him with intense admiration. Here was
+something new to study. Had Donald not been to the great and wonderful
+Far West, so much the more fascinating because nobody knew anything
+about it? Had he not shot the buffalo roaming the plains? Had he not
+mingled in that wild life which, without moral lamp-posts, allures
+all the more because of a certain flavoring spice of deviltry? Every
+farmer's son in Marsden, Gould, Stornaway, and Lake Megantic, envied
+Donald that easy swaggering air, that frank, perhaps defiant outlook,
+which the girls secretly adored. Is it the village maiden alone who
+confesses to a secret charm in dare-devilism? Let the social life of
+every garrison city answer. The delicately nurtured lady's heart throbs
+beneath lace and silk, and that of the village girl beneath cotton, but
+the character of the emotion is the same.
+
+"Oh, Donald, Donald, my dear son!"
+
+Withered arms were round his neck, and loving lips pressed his cheek.
+
+Donald's home-coming had been a surprise. He had sent no word to
+his parents. His mother was sitting in the kitchen, when he entered
+unannounced. For a moment she did not know him, but a mother's love is
+seldom at fault. A second glance was enough. It passed over Donald the
+bronzed and weather-beaten man, and reached to Donald the curly-headed
+lad, whose sunny locks she had brushed softly when preparing him for
+school.
+
+"Yes, mother," said Donald, tenderly returning her greeting, "I am back
+again. I intend to settle down. Father's letter showed me that things
+were not going too well, and I thought I would come home and help to
+straighten them out a bit. I have had my fill of wandering, and now I
+think I would like to live quietly in the old place where I was born,
+among the friends and the scenes which are endeared to me by past
+associations."
+
+"Oh, I wish you would, Donald," the old mother replied, with moist eyes.
+"Your father wants you home, and I want you home. We're now getting old
+and feeble. We won't be long here. Remain with us to the close."
+
+"Well, Donald, my man, welcome back," a hearty voice cried.
+
+Upon looking round Donald saw his father, who had been out in the
+fields, and just came in as the mother was speaking. The two men
+cordially shook hands.
+
+"My, how changed you are," the father said. "I would hardly know you.
+From the tone of your letters, you have had an adventurous life in the
+West."
+
+"Well," said Donald, "at first the novelty attracted. I was free. There
+was no standard of moral attainment constantly thrust in your face, and
+that was an enormous relief to me. You know how I often rebelled against
+the strictness of life here. But even license fatigues; the new becomes
+the old; and where there is no standard there is but feeble achievement.
+I became a cowboy because that phase of life offered at a moment when
+employment was a necessity. I remained at it because I could make money.
+But I never meant this should be permanent. The wild life became dull to
+me, and I soon longed for the quiet scenes from which I had been so glad
+to escape. I learned to shoot and ride, and picked up a few things which
+may be useful to me here. And now, father, let us discuss your affairs."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"THE PRIDE OF THE VILLAGE."
+
+It was Saturday night in the village of Lake Megantic. The work of the
+week is done. There is a brief respite from labor which, severe and
+unremitting, dulls the mind and chokes the fountains of geniality and
+wit. The young men,--indeed, there was a sprinkling of grey hairs,
+too,--had gathered in the one hotel the village boasts of. There was a
+group in the little room off the bar, and another group in the bar-room
+itself. It was well for the host that the palates of his guests had
+not been corrupted by the "mixed drinks" of the cities. He steadily
+dispensed one article,--that was whiskey. It was quite superfluous to
+ask your neighbor what he would take. The whiskey was going round, and
+the lads were a little flushed. At the head of the room off the bar a
+piper was skirling with great energy, while in the centre of the room a
+strapping young fellow was keeping time to the music.
+
+The piper paused, and drew a long breath. The dancer resumed his seat.
+
+"I say, boys," said one of the party, "have you seen Donald Morrison
+since he came home?"
+
+Oh, yes, they had all seen him.
+
+"What do you think of him?" the first speaker asked.
+
+"Well," said a second speaker, "I think he is greatly changed. He's too
+free with his pistols. He seems to have taken to the habits of the West.
+I don't think we want them in Megantic."
+
+"I saw him riding down the road to-day," said a third speaker, "and he
+was using the cowboy stirrups and saddle. Talking of his pistols, he's
+the most surprising shot I ever saw. I saw him the other day in the
+village snuffing a candle, and cutting a fine cord at twenty paces."
+
+"He'd be an ugly customer in a row," remarked a fourth speaker.
+
+"No doubt," said the first young fellow, "but Donald never was a
+disorderly fellow, and I think his pistol shooting and defiant air are a
+bit of harmless bravado."
+
+The previous speaker appeared to be a bit of a pessimist. "I only hope,"
+he said, significantly, as it seemed, "that nothing will come of this
+carrying arms, and riding up and down the country like a page of
+Fenimore Cooper."
+
+"By the way," interposed the first speaker, "did you hear that Donald
+and his father had a dispute about the money which Donald advanced when
+he was away, and that legal proceedings are threatened?"
+
+No, none of the party had heard about it, but the pessimist remarked:
+"I hope there won't be any trouble. Donald, I think, is a man with decent
+instincts, but passion could carry him to great lengths. Once aroused,
+he might prove a dangerous enemy."
+
+The young man said these words earnestly enough, no doubt. He had no
+idea he was uttering a prophecy.
+
+How surprised we are sometimes to find that our commonplaces have been
+verified by fate, with all the added emphasis of tragedy!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+MODEST, SIMPLE, SWEET.
+
+Minnie is in her new home in Springfield.
+
+Springfield is a village set at the base of a series of hills, which it
+is an article of faith to call mountains. They are not on the map, but
+that matters little. We ought to be thankful that the dullness of the
+guide-book makers and topographists has still left us here and there
+serene bits of nature.
+
+Springfield had a church, and a school, and a post office, and a tavern.
+It was a scattered sort of place, and a week of it would have proved the
+death of a city lady, accustomed to life only as it glows with color, or
+sparkles with the champagne of passion. Minnie had never seen a city.
+She was content that her days should be spent close to the calm heart of
+nature. She felt the parting with old friends at Lake Megantic keenly.
+She murmured "farewell" to the woods in accents choked with tears.
+All the associations of childhood, and the more vivid and precious
+associations of her early womanhood, crowded upon her that last day.
+Donald occupied the chief place in her thoughts. He was far away. Should
+they ever meet again? Should their sweet companionships ever be renewed?
+
+The cares of her new home won her back to content.
+
+Minnie's mother was feeble, and required careful nursing. Her own early
+life had been darkened by hardships. When a young girl she had often
+gone supperless to bed. Her bare feet and legs were bitten by the
+cutting winds of winter. Her people had belonged to the North of
+Ireland. She herself was born in the south of Antrim. Her mother was
+early left a widow, without means of support. She worked in the fields
+for fourpence a day, from six to six, and out of this she had to pay
+a shilling a week for rent, and buy food and clothing for herself and
+orphan child. Her employer was a Christian, and deeply interested in
+the social and spiritual welfare of the heathen! When the outdoor
+work failed in the winter, she wound cotton upon the old-fashioned
+spinning-wheel, and Minnie's mother often hung upon the revolving spool
+with a fearful interest. Mother and child were often hungry. The finish
+of the cotton at a certain hour of the day meant a small pittance
+wherewith bread could be bought. A minute after the office hour, and
+to the pleading request that the goods be taken and the wages given, a
+brutal "No" would be returned, and the door slammed in the face of the
+applicant. This was frequently the experience of the poor woman and her
+child.
+
+At least death is merciful. It said to the widow--"Come, end the
+struggle. Close your eyes, and I will put you to sleep."
+
+Minnie's mother was adopted by a lady who subsequently took up her
+residence in Scotland, and a modest ray of sunshine thence continued to
+rest upon her life: but her early sufferings had left their mark.
+
+Of her mother's life Minnie knew but little. What she perceived was that
+she needed all her love and care, and these she offered in abundant
+measure.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A LETTER FROM DONALD.
+
+Minnie is in her little bedroom, and she is looking, with a shy surprise
+mixed with just a little guilt (which is sometimes so delicious), at her
+blushes in the glass. In her hand was a letter. That letter was from
+Donald. It had been handed to her at the breakfast table, and she had
+hastened to her room to have the luxury of secret perusal. With love
+there are only two beings in the entire universe. You say love is
+selfish. You are mistaken. Love loves secrecy. A blabbing tongue, the
+common look of day, kills love. The monopoly that love claims is the law
+of its being. If I transcribed Donald's letter you would say it was a
+very commonplace production. But Minnie kissed it twice, and put it
+softly in her bosom. The letter announced that he was home again, and
+that he would shortly pay her a visit. It just hinted that things were
+not going on well at home; but Minnie's sanguine temperament found no
+sinister suggestion in the words.
+
+The letter had made her happy. She put on her hat, and, taking the path
+at the back of the house that joined that which led to the mountain, she
+was soon climbing to the latter's summit.
+
+It was a beautiful spring day. The sunlight seemed new, and young,
+and very tender. The green of the trees was of that vivid hue which
+expresses hope to the young, and sadness to the aged. To the former it
+means a coming depth and maturity of joy; to the latter, the fresh,
+eager days of the past--bright, indeed, but mournful in their brevity.
+
+Minnie sat down upon a rustic seat, and gave herself up to one of those
+delicious day-dreams which lure the spirit as the mirage lures the
+traveller.
+
+She began to sing softly to herself--
+
+ "Thou'lt break my heart thou warbling bird,
+ That wantons through the flowering thorn;
+ Thou 'minds me o' departed joys,
+ Departed--never to return."
+
+Why those lines were suggested, and why her voice should falter in
+sadness, and why tears should spring to her eyes, she did not know. To
+some spirits the calm beauty of nature, and the warm air that breathes
+in balm and healing, express the deepest pathos. The contrast between
+the passion and suffering of life, and the calm assurance of unruffled
+joy which nature suggests, pierces the heart with an exquisite sadness.
+
+Poor Minnie, she sang the lines of "Bonnie, Doon," all unconscious that
+they would ever have any relation to her experience.
+
+But Minnie would bear her grief, and say, "God is love."
+
+She had never subscribed to a creed, and although Mill and Huxley were
+strangers to her, her whole nature protested against any system of which
+violence was one of the factors.
+
+Minnie was simply good. When she encountered suffering, and found that
+it was too great for human relief, she would whisper to her heart, "By
+and by." What by and by meant explained all to Minnie.
+
+We spend years upon the study of character, and the cardinal features
+often escape us. A dog has but to glance once into a human face. He
+comprehends goodness in a moment. The ownerless dogs of the village
+analyzed Minnie's nature, and found it satisfactory. They beamed upon
+her with looks of wistful love. She had them in the spring and summer
+for her daily escort to the mountain.
+
+That was a testimonial of fine ethical value.
+
+"Why, what am I dreaming about?" Minnie exclaimed, after she had sat for
+about an hour. "Why are my eyes wet? Why do I feel a sadness which I
+cannot define? Am I not happy? Isn't Donald coming to see me? Will we
+not be together again? Isn't the sun bright and warm, and our little
+home cheerful and happy? Fancies, dreams, and forebodings, away with
+you. I must run home and help mother to make that salad for dinner."
+
+The world wants not so much learned, as simple, modest, reverent women,
+to sweeten and redeem it!
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE BEGINNING OF THE TROUBLE.
+
+We will not afflict the reader with all the complexities of a dispute
+which for months exercised the Press, the people, and the Government of
+Lower Canada; which led to a terrible tragedy, and the invasion of a
+quiet country by an armed force which exercised powers of domiciliary
+visitation and arrest resorted to only under proclamation of martial
+law; and which, setting a price upon a man's head, resulted in an
+outlawry as romantic and adventurous as that of Sir Walter Scott's Rob
+Roy.
+
+Certain large features, necessary to the development of the story, will
+be recapitulated.
+
+Poverty has few alleviations. Where it exists at all it takes a
+malevolent delight in making its aspect as hideous as possible. Donald's
+father had got into difficulties. Donald had helped him more than
+once when he was in the West, and when he came home he advanced him a
+considerable sum. A time came when Donald wanted his money back. His
+father was unable to give it to him. There was a dispute between them.
+Recourse was had to a money-lender in Lake Megantic.
+
+The latter advanced a certain sum of money upon a note. In the
+transactions which occurred between Donald and the money-lender the
+former alleged over-reaching.
+
+An appeal was made to the law.
+
+In the Province of Quebec the law moves slowly. Its feet are shod with
+the heavy irons of circumlocution. It is very solemn, but its pomp is
+antiquated. It undertakes to deal with your cause when you have
+long outgrown the interest or the passion of the original source of
+contention. Time has healed the wound. You are living at peace with
+your whilom enemy. You have shaken him by the hand, and partaken of his
+hospitality.
+
+Then the law intervenes, and revives passions whose fires were almost
+out. Before Donald's case came on, he sold the farm to the money-lender.
+
+Donald claimed that the latter, in the transaction of a mortgage prior
+to the sale, and in the terms of the sale itself, had cheated him out of
+$900.
+
+The sale of the farm was made in a moment of angry impetuosity. Donald
+regretted the act, and wanted the sale cancelled upon terms which would
+settle his claim for the $900.
+
+The money-lender re-sold the farm to a French family named Duquette.
+
+Popular sympathy is not analytical. It grasps large features. It
+overlooks minutiae.
+
+Donald had been wronged. He had been despoiled of his farm. His years of
+toil in the West had gone for nothing, for the money he had earned had
+been put into the land which was now occupied by a stranger. This was
+what the people said. The young men were loud in their expressions of
+sympathy. The older heads shook dubiously.
+
+"There would be trouble."
+
+"Donald had a determined look. Duquette made a mistake in taking the
+farm. The cowboys in the North-West held life rather cheap."
+
+So the old people said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A SHOT IN THE DARKNESS.
+
+The Duquettes took possession of the farm.
+
+They were quiet, inoffensive people.
+
+Donald had been seen moving about between Marsden and Lake Megantic
+wearing an air of disquietude.
+
+Something was impending. In a vague way the people felt that something
+sinister was going to happen.
+
+'Twas about midnight in the village of Marsden. Darkness enveloped it
+as a mourning garment. Painful effort, and strife, and sorrow were all
+forgotten in that deep sleep which, as the good Book says, is peculiarly
+sweet to the laboring man.
+
+The Duquettes had not yet retired to rest. Mrs. Duquette had been kept
+up by an ailing child. She was sitting with her little one on her knee.
+
+Suddenly there was a detonation and a crash of glass. A whizzing bullet
+lodged in the face of the clock above Mrs. Duquette's head. Who fired
+the shot? And what was the motive? Was it intended that the bullet
+should kill, or only alarm?
+
+Was it intended that the Duquettes should recognize the desirability of
+vacating the farm?
+
+Who fired the shot?
+
+Nothing was said openly about it; but the old people shook their heads,
+and hinted that cowboys, with pistols ostentatiously stuck in their
+belts, were not the most desirable residents of a quiet village like
+Marsden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+"BURNT A HOLE IN THE NIGHT."
+
+That shot in the darkness furnished a theme for endless gossip amongst
+the villagers. There was not much work done the next day. When the
+exercise of the faculties is limited to considerations associated with
+the rare occurrence of a wedding or a death, intellectual activity is
+not great. Abstract reasoning is unknown; but a new objective fact
+connected with the environment is seized upon with great avidity. That
+shot was felt to be ominous. Was it the prologue to the tragedy? There
+was to be something more than that shot.
+
+What was it?
+
+Would anything else happen, and when would it happen?
+
+The villagers were not kept long in suspense.
+
+A few nights afterwards there was a lurid glare in the sky.
+
+It was red, and sinister, and quivering.
+
+What could it mean?
+
+Was it a celestial portent which thus wrote itself upon the face of the
+heavens?
+
+The villagers assembled in alarm.
+
+"Why, it's Duquette's place on fire!"
+
+Yes, the homestead had been fired, and the conflagration made a red,
+ragged hole in the blackness of the night!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+SUSPICION FALLS UPON DONALD, AND A WARRANT IS ISSUED AGAINST HIM.
+
+This was the second act in the drama.
+
+The situations were strong and in bold relief. Would the interest deepen
+in dramatic accrument?
+
+Donald was generally suspected; but he had commenced to experience that
+sympathy which was to withstand all attempts of the Government to shake
+it--attempts which appealed alternately to fears and cupidity.
+
+There was no proof against him, but even those who, if there had been
+proof, would have condemned the act, would not put forth a hand to
+injure him.
+
+To understand the strength of the feeling of clannishness in this
+district one must reside amongst the people.
+
+Donald was suspected, as we have said, and a warrant was made out
+against him on the charge of arson.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+HE THOUGHT OF HIS WIFE AND FAMILY, AND HE RETURNED TO SHERBROOKE.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. A----."
+
+"Good morning, Mr. L----. A lovely morning."
+
+"Yes, indeed."
+
+"Are you going far?"
+
+"I am going to Marsden. By the way, have you seen Donald Morrison
+lately?"
+
+"I saw him yesterday. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Well, I may tell you that I have a warrant to arrest him on a charge of
+arson."
+
+Mr. L---- looked very thoughtful. "Do you know the kind of man you have
+to deal with?"
+
+"I have heard a good deal about him, especially since he returned from
+the West. But why do you ask?"
+
+"I don't know," said Mr. L----, "whether Donald set fire to the
+Duquette's place or not, but I know that his real or fancied wrongs have
+made him morose and irritable--aye, I will add, dangerous. You are a
+married man, Mr. A----?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You have a family?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Take my advice," said Mr. L---- impressively. "Don't try to execute
+this warrant. Go straight back to Sherbrooke."
+
+"But my duty," said Mr. A---- irresolutely.
+
+"Where could you find Morrison, anyway? And if you did find him, and
+attempted to execute the warrant, I tell you," said Mr. L--------,
+with great earnestness, "there would be bloodshed."
+
+Mr. A--------- thought a moment, held out his hand to Mr. L---------,
+and turned his face towards Sherbrooke.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE TRAGEDY.
+
+MACBETH--" I have done the deed. This is a sorry sight."
+
+James Warren was a stout, thick-set man, about forty years of age. He
+was an American by birth, but he had lived for many years in Compton
+County. It was said that he had made a good deal of money by smuggling
+goods into the States. He had the reputation of being a hard liver, and
+something of a braggart.
+
+Warren had been sworn in as a special constable to arrest Donald. Armed
+with the warrant, he had lounged round the village of Megantic watching
+his opportunity. He made loud boasts that he would take Morrison dead or
+alive. He pulled out a pistol. This gave emphasis to the threat. We
+have already said that Donald always went armed. Sometimes he carried a
+rifle: more generally a couple of six-shooters.
+
+Warren was in the hotel drinking. It was about noon on a beautiful day
+in June.
+
+One of the villagers rushed into the bar.
+
+"Here's Morrison coming down the street," he said, in a tone of
+excitement.
+
+"All right," said Warren, "this is my chance."
+
+"You daren't arrest him," a by-stander said.
+
+"Daren't I, by ----," he replied. "Here, give me a drink of whiskey."
+
+He quaffed the glass, and went out to the front. Donald was coming
+towards him. He saw Warren, and crossed to the other side to avoid him.
+
+Warren went over and intercepted him.
+
+"You've got to come with me," said Warren, pulling out the warrant.
+
+"Let me pass," Donald replied in firm, commanding tones, "I want to have
+nothing to do with you."
+
+"But, by ----, I have something to do with you," Warren angrily
+retorted. "You have got to come with me, dead or alive."
+
+"What do you mean?" Donald demanded, while his right hand sought his
+hip pocket.
+
+"I mean what I say," Warren replied, fast losing control over himself.
+Pulling out his revolver, he covered Donald, and commanded him to
+surrender.
+
+About a dozen people watched the scene in front of the hotel, chained to
+the spot with a species of horrible fascination.
+
+The moment that Donald saw Warren pull out his revolver, and cover
+him with it, he clenched his teeth with a deadly determination, and,
+whipping out his own weapon, and taking steady aim, he fired.
+
+Warren, with his pistol at full cock in his hand, fell back--dead!
+
+The bullet had entered the brain through the temple.
+
+Donald bent over him, saw that he was dead, and, muttering between his
+teeth, "It was either my life or his," walked down the street out of
+sight.
+
+Warren lay in a pool of blood, a ghastly spectacle. Some poor mother had
+once held this man to her breast, and shed tears of joy or sorrow over
+him!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+AFTERWARDS.
+
+The inquest was over. Donald Morrison was found guilty of having slain
+Warren. He walked abroad openly. No one attempted to interfere with him.
+After the natural horror at the deed had subsided, sympathy went out to
+Donald. He had slain a man. True. But it was in self-defence. Had not
+Warren been seen pointing the pistol at him? Even admitting that Warren
+had no intention to shoot, but only intended to intimidate Donald, how
+could the latter know that? Donald had killed a man in the assertion of
+the first law of nature--self-preservation.
+
+The people deplored the act. But they did not feel justified in handing
+Donald over to justice.
+
+The news of the terrible tragedy spread. The papers got hold of the
+story, and made the most of it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE BLOW FALLS.
+
+"Father, father, what is the matter? What ails you?"
+
+Mr. Minton had taken up the paper after breakfast. He had glanced
+carelessly down the columns.
+
+The editorials were dull, and the news meagre. Suddenly, he came across
+ a large heading--"DREADFUL TRAGEDY!"
+He read a few lines, and then uttered a cry of horror. He threw down the
+paper, and looked at Minnie. It was a look of anguish.
+
+Minnie reached forward for the paper. Her eye caught the fatal head
+line. By its suggestion of horror it provoked that hunger for details
+which, in its acute stage, becomes pruriency.
+
+This is what the eye, with a constantly augmenting expression of
+fearfulness, conveyed to the brain:--
+
+"DREADFUL TRAGEDY.--About mid-day yesterday one of the most fearful
+tragedies ever enacted in this province, indeed in Canada, took place
+in the village of Megantic. Our readers are familiar with the agrarian
+troubles in which Donald Morrison has been figuring for some time past.
+They have also been apprised that, upon the burning of Duquette's
+homestead, suspicion at once fell upon Donald. A warrant, charging him
+with arson, was sworn out against him, and a man named Warren undertook
+to execute it. It is alleged that the latter, armed with the warrant and
+a huge revolver, swaggered about Megantic for several days, boasting
+that he would take Morrison dead or alive. Be that as it may, the two
+men met yesterday outside the village hotel. The accounts of what
+followed are most conflicting. One of our reporters interviewed several
+witnesses of the scene, and the following statements, we believe, may be
+relied upon. Warren approached Morrison, and, in a loud tone of voice,
+told him that he had a warrant for him, and commanded him to surrender.
+The latter attempted to get past, and said he wanted to have nothing to
+do with him. With that Warren pulled out a pistol, and ordered Morrison
+to throw up his hands. Now, whether Morrison fully believed that Warren
+meant to shoot him, will never, of course, be known. That is the
+statement he made to our reporter with every appearance of earnestness,
+subsequent to the occurrence. At any rate, the moment that Warren's
+pistol appeared, Morrison whipped out his revolver, and shot him through
+the head. Warren fell backward, and died in a few minutes. The dreadful
+act has caused the utmost excitement throughout the country, whose
+annals, as far as serious crime is concerned, are stainless. A singular
+circumstance must be noted. There is not a single person who regards
+Morrison in the light of a murderer. The act is everywhere deplored, but
+Morrison's own statement, backed by several witnesses, that he committed
+the deed in self-defence, is as generally accepted, and the consequence
+is that every house is open to him, no man's back is turned upon him,
+and his friends still hold out to him the hand of fellowship. He is
+still at large, and likely to be so, as the county is without police,
+and strangers coming here would have no chance of arresting him. Indeed,
+Morrison, armed with a rifle and two revolvers, walks about Megantic
+and Marsden in broad daylight--perfectly safe from harm, as far as the
+people themselves are concerned. It is said the Provincial Government
+are about to take some steps in the matter."
+
+Minnie read this account through to the end. She seemed to grow stiff,
+and her eyes dilated with a nameless horror. She did not faint. That is
+a privilege reserved for the heroines of the Seaside Library. This is
+a very modest narrative of fact, and we could not afford so dramatic a
+luxury as that. Minnie was a hearty country girl, and oatmeal repudiates
+all affinity with hysterics.
+
+Minnie read the article, threw down the paper, and rushed to her room.
+She flung herself beside her bed. First of all, she didn't believe the
+story. It was a foul lie. "What! Donald Morrison kill a man! Donald, my
+lover, whom I have known since childhood--whose generous instincts I
+have so often admired! Donald Morrison to redden his hands with the
+blood of his fellow! Impossible, impossible! Oh, Donald, Donald," she
+cried wildly, "say it isn't true; say it isn't true!"
+
+She knelt over the bed, too deeply stricken for tears. After that
+passionate prayer for denial--a prayer which is constantly ascending
+from humanity, and which, asking for an assurance that the storm shall
+not ravish the rose of life, has in it perhaps at bottom something of
+selfishness--she remained motionless. She was thinking it out. It
+_was_ true Donald _had_ killed a man. The report could not lie so
+circumstantially. The place, and the date, and the details were given.
+The story was true, and Donald had taken a life. But then, had he
+committed murder? A thousand times, no! Warren had threatened to kill
+Donald. Warren _would_ have killed him. Donald defended himself; and
+if, in defending himself, he had taken a life, what then? Terrible--too
+terrible for words; but life was as sweet to Donald as it was to
+Warren. A moment later and he would have been the victim. He obeyed the
+fundamental law of nature.
+
+Thus Minnie tried to reason, but it brought no comfort to her. Her
+simple dream of love and modest happiness was over. She knew that. The
+beautiful vase of life was broken, and no art could mend it!
+
+When thought was in some degree restored, she sat down and wrote the
+following letter:--
+
+"Oh, Donald, Donald, what have I read in the papers? Is it true? Is it
+true?
+
+"Tell me all. Even if the truth be the very worst, do not fear that I
+shall reproach you. God forbid that I should sit in judgment upon you.
+Look to God. He can pardon the deepest guilt. My feelings are not
+changed toward you. I loved you when you were innocent, and I would not
+be worthy the name of woman if I were not faithful even in despair.
+Hasty you may have been, but I know that wickedness never had a lodgment
+in your heart.
+
+ 'Oh, what was love made for if 'tis not the same
+ Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame."
+
+"Your broken hearted
+
+"MINNIE."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+WHAT WAS DONALD ABOUT.
+
+When Mrs. Morrison learnt the dreadful news that Donald had shot Warren,
+the poor old woman was overwhelmed with despair. Donald himself broke
+the news to her. After satisfying himself that Warren was dead, he
+turned on his heel and went home to Marsden.
+
+"Mother," he said, with terrible calmness, when he entered the door,
+"I have killed Warren."
+
+Mrs. Morrison looked at him vaguely. She did not comprehend.
+
+"Warren wanted to arrest me this morning in Megantic, and because I
+refused to go with him he pulled out a pistol, as I thought, to shoot
+me. I fired at him. The shot killed him."
+
+Mrs. Morrison uttered a shriek. "Oh, Donald, my son, my son," she
+exclaimed, "what is this, what is this? Killed Warren! Oh, you must fly
+at once, or they will be after you!"
+
+"No, mother, I will not run. I will stay where I am. They can't arrest
+me. I can easily avoid all who are sent for that purpose. My friends
+will keep me informed of their doings. But, mother, whatever others say,
+I want you to believe that I never thought of harming a hair of Warren's
+head when he met me. I fired in self-defence. I deplore his death; but
+it was either he or I."
+
+"Oh, I believe you, Donald, and your poor mother," breaking into a
+violent fit of weeping, "your poor mother will never turn against you.
+But what will be the end? The officers must take you some time."
+
+"I don't know what the end will be," he said gloomily. "If I thought I
+would get a fair trial I might give myself up; but if I did so now they
+would hang me, I believe. I will wait and see, and the woods, with every
+inch of which I am familiar, will be my retreat, should the pursuit ever
+be dangerous."
+
+Donald's father took the news stoically. His nature was not emotional.
+The relations between father and son were strained. Little was said on
+either side.
+
+Donald walked about as usual. He had repeated to his immediate friends
+every circumstance of the tragedy. They fully believed him innocent of
+murder. This exoneration was of great value to him. From mouth to mouth
+the story spread that Donald fired in self-defence, and the latter found
+that all the faces he met were friendly faces.
+
+What he said to himself in his own room every night, he said to his
+friends--"I regret the deed. I had no thought of touching Warren. When I
+saw his pistol flash in front of me, I felt in a moment that my life was
+at stake. I obeyed an instinct, which prompted me to get the first shot
+to save myself. I could get back to the States, but I'll stay right
+here. Let them take me if they can."
+
+In vain his friends urged flight. He was inflexible on this point.
+
+So, as we have stated, he walked abroad in perfect safety. He carried
+his rifle and his two revolvers, and possibly, in some quarters, this
+rather suggestive display may, in _some_ degree, have accounted for the
+civility with which he was everywhere greeted.
+
+The county authorities had not moved against him. The Provincial
+Government had not as yet intervened. A price was not yet set upon
+his capture. He was free to go and come as he chose, and yet he moved
+amongst those who had seen him take the life of a fellow creature.
+
+Minnie's letter, addressed to his father's care, reached him. It moved
+him deeply. Since the tragedy he had frequently tried to write to her,
+but never found the courage.
+
+He recognized that all hope of future union with Minnie was now
+impossible. He had taken a life. At any moment the officers of the law
+might be on his track. His arrest might lead him to the scaffold.
+
+In his reply to Minnie, Donald described the tragic scene with which
+the reader is familiar, deplored the occurrence, but, with great
+earnestness, asked her to believe that he had acted only in
+self-defence. "I started out," he said, in one portion of his letter,
+"to go to church last Sunday evening. I had reached the door, when I
+thought--'Donald, you have broken a law of God!' and I had not the
+courage to go in."
+
+We quote this passage merely in confirmation of our statement that
+Donald felt perfectly free to go abroad after the tragedy, and to
+participate in the social life of the village.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+ACTION OF THE PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT.--FIVE OFFICERS SENT TO MEGANTIC.
+
+To the common mind government is something vast, mysterious, and
+powerful. It is associated with armies and navies, and an unlimited
+police force. There are a glittering sword, a ponderous mace, and an
+argus eye, that reaches to the remotest point of territory like a great
+big electric search light, in it.
+
+No man is a hero to his valet, and the nearer you get to the seat of
+power, the less does government impose upon the imagination. Those who
+read, with infinite respect, "that the Government has decided, after a
+protracted meeting of the Cabinet, to levy a tax upon terrier dogs for
+purposes of revenue," would be shocked to learn that government meant
+a small table, a bottle of wine, a few cigars, and two men not a whit
+above the mental or moral level of the ordinary citizen. Government
+imposes when you meet it in respectful capitals in the public prints,
+but when you get a glimpse of it in its shirt sleeves, _en famille_, or
+playing harlequin upon the top of a barrel at the hustings, or tickling
+the yokels with bits of cheap millinery and silk stockings, and reflect
+that you have paid homage to _that_, you begin to doubt the saving
+efficacy of the ballot box.
+
+Now, the Government of Quebec is neither a naval nor a military power.
+It doesn't want to fight, and if it did it hasn't got either the ships,
+or the men, or the money. The Sergeant-at-Arms in the Legislative
+Assembly is the only military person in its pay. It has not even a
+single policeman to assert the majesty of the law.
+
+The Government of Quebec is the Hon. Honore Mercier.
+
+Mr. Mercier is like the first Napoleon. He chooses _tools_ to assist,
+not strong individualities to oppose, him.
+
+Party journalism in the Province of Quebec is peculiarly bitter and
+mendacious. The Press generally had made the most of the shooting of
+Warren. A month had elapsed, and no attempt had been made to arrest
+Morrison, who, it was alleged, swaggered through the country armed to
+the teeth, and threatening death to the man who should attempt to take
+him. It was generally agreed that this was a scandal. But the opposition
+journals made political capital out of the affair.
+
+"What! was this the Mercier Government? Was this the sort of law and
+order we were promised under his _regime_? Here was a criminal at large
+defying the law. Was Mr. Mercier afraid to arrest him, lest he might
+forfeit the Liberal votes of the county? It looked like it. Could Mr.
+Mercier not impress, for love or money, a single man in the Province to
+undertake the task of arresting Morrison? Or was Mr. Mercier so taken up
+with posing in that Gregory costume that he had no time to devote to the
+affairs of his country?"
+
+Mr. Mercier's reply to the party Press was to send down five special
+constables to Megantic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+TELLS HOW THE CONSTABLES ENJOYED THEMSELVES.
+
+ CAESAR--"Let me have men about me that are fat--
+ Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights."
+
+The five constables that Mr. Mercier sent down to Megantic put up in the
+village hotel.
+
+Within an hour Donald had received the following note:--
+
+"Dear Donald,--Action at last. Five men from Quebec after you. Keep away
+from Marsden for a day or so. I don't think there is much to fear.
+They would not know you, I believe, if they met you, and they are so
+frightened by the stories they have heard about you, that I don't
+believe they would dare to arrest you, even if they found you. However,
+as well be on the safe side. Go into the woods a little bit"
+
+The people soon knew that an attempt was to be made to arrest Donald.
+The young men gathered in the hotel round the constables, and told
+blood-curdling stories of his dare-devilism in the North-West. The
+constables were fat, phlegmatic, and anything but heroic. What they had
+been accustomed to was an unexciting and steady beat in the drowsy old
+city of Quebec, and small but unfailingly regular drinks of whiskey
+_blanc_. This duty was new. Worst of all, it was perilous. This
+Morrison--he might shoot at sight. True, they were armed with rifles and
+revolvers; but they had heard that he was a dead shot. Perhaps he
+might shoot first. That would, to say the least, be awkward, perhaps
+dangerous, perhaps even fatal. No, they had not much stomach for the
+work, and the people, perceiving this, encouraged their fears. In a very
+short time Donald became a combination of Italian brigand, Dick Turpin,
+and Wild West Cowboy, as these latter are depicted in the dime stories.
+
+Whenever, therefore, the officers took their walks abroad, they stepped
+very gingerly as they approached the village of Marsden. It never
+occurred to them to enter Donald's home. They might have found him
+half-a-dozen times a day. They never once crossed the threshold of the
+woods.
+
+Did not this terrible character know every tangled path, and might he
+not open fire upon them without being seen?
+
+The country roads are really white lines through the green of the woods.
+
+One morning the constables left the hotel, primed with a little whiskey.
+They took the road to Marsden. The woods skirted the narrow way on
+either side. The summer was now well advanced, and the foliage was so
+thick as to form an impenetrable lacery.
+
+"We have been here a month now," said the officer in charge, in French,
+"and we have accomplished nothing. I shall ask to be relieved at once.
+The people will not help us. How could we ever find a man in these
+woods? He might be here this moment," pointing to the trees at his
+right, "yet what chance would we have of taking him?"
+
+With one accord, the four subordinates answered "None."
+
+"Suppose he were here," and the officer halted on his step, how--What is
+that? Did you hear anything?"
+
+"Yes," said one of the constables timorously, "I heard a noise in the
+brushwood."
+
+"Suppose it were Morrison?"
+
+And they looked at each other apprehensively.
+
+"We will return," said the officer. "It is probably a bear. If I thought
+it were Morrison, I would enter the wood," he said valorously. When they
+were gone, a brown face peeped out. It was Donald. "They're scared," he
+said to himself, laughing. "Not much danger from _them_. I don't believe
+they would know me. I'll test it."
+
+He laid down his rifle at the foot of a tree, looked to his pistols, and
+walked rapidly in the direction the constables had taken. Overtaking
+them, he pushed his way through the brushwood, in advance of them, and
+then, at a bend in the road which hid him from view, he leaped out upon
+the road, turned, and met the party. He walked straight up to them,
+looked them in the eye, and passed on. They did not know him; or, if, as
+was alleged against them afterwards, they knew him, they were afraid to
+arrest him. The statement that Donald carried his audacity so far as to
+enter the hotel, and drink with them, he himself laughingly denied to
+his friends.
+
+The opposition papers jeered at the failure of the expedition. Ridicule
+is the most powerful of weapons. Man is not half so humorous as the dog
+or the elephant. With the latter it is an instinct. With the former it
+is an acquirement. Still, the perception of humor is fairly general.
+Don't argue with your opponent, Kill him with ridicule. Laughter is
+deadly. When the people laugh at a Government it can put its spare
+collar and shirt in its red handkerchief, and retire to the privacy of
+its family. Mr. Mercier is sensitive to ridicule.
+
+Mr. Mercier withdrew that expedition, and offered $3,000 reward for the
+capture of Morrison!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+PROOF AGAINST BRIBES!
+
+ "A man's a man for a' that."
+
+It was now that Donald was to prove that integrity which for ages has
+been so noble an attribute of the Highlander.
+
+To many of the villagers $3,000 would have been a fortune. But if Donald
+spent more of his time in the woods now than formerly, it was not that
+he doubted the honor of the poorest peasant in the county. He well knew
+that there was not a man or woman who would have accepted the reward if
+it were to save them from starvation. He had no fear on that score. He
+became more reserved in his movements, because his friends informed
+him that since the offer of the reward, several suspicious-looking
+individuals from Montreal, pretending to be commercial travellers, had
+been seen loitering in the village. He therefore drew farther into the
+woods, and avoided his father's house, either going to the houses of
+his friends for food, or having it brought to him. If danger seemed
+pressing, he passed the night in the woods, his rifle close to his side;
+but ordinarily, during this time he slept at the homes of his friends.
+The arrival of every stranger was known to him. Faithful friends noted
+down their description, and these notes either reached him at a given
+rendezvous in the woods, or at the houses where he passed the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE REWARD FAILS.
+
+Time passed on. Donald was still at large. The reward had failed.
+Private detectives from Montreal, who had remained in the district for
+weeks, returned in disgust, confessing that Morrison's capture was
+impossible so long as he had friends to inform him of every movement,
+and the woods to retreat to.
+
+At the police headquarters in Montreal various schemes were discussed.
+Chief Hughes was of opinion that thirty resolute men, skilfully
+directed, could accomplish the capture.
+
+It was now the fall, and if action were not speedily taken, the winter
+woods, filled with snow, would soon mock all effort of authority.
+
+The press kept up the public interest in the case. Morrison had been
+seen drinking at the hotel in Lake Megantic. He had attended a dance in
+Marsden. He had driven publicly with the Mayor of Gould, with his rifle
+slung from his shoulder. He went to church every Sunday, and he had
+taken the sacrament. All this according to the press. Did the Mercier
+Government, then, confess that it had abdicated its functions? Was this
+Scotland in the Seventeenth Century, and this Morrison a romantic Rob
+Roy, with a poetic halo round his picturesque head, or was it America
+in the Nineteenth, with the lightning express, the phonograph, and
+Pinkerton's bureau, and this criminal one of a vulgar type in whose
+crime sentiment had no place?
+
+Did the Government intend to allow this man to defy the law? If it did,
+was this not putting a premium upon crime? If it did not, what steps did
+it intend to take to secure his arrest? Thus far the newspapers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE GOVERNMENT TAKES OFF ITS COAT.
+
+The winter had passed. The first expedition had failed. The reward had
+failed, for the people, sincerely regretting the tragedy, and anxious
+that Donald should give himself up, scorned to betray the man who had
+trusted in their honor.
+
+Donald had spent the winter in comparative security. Anxiety had made
+him thin, but he was as firmly fixed as ever in his determination to
+hold out. He knew that as long as his friends remained faithful to him
+he could never be taken. His mind did not seem to travel beyond that.
+"He would never be taken." He was urged in vain to escape to the States.
+He was urged in vain to give himself up. To the promise that his friends
+would see that he received a fair trial, he would answer bitterly:
+"Promises are easy now because they have not to be kept. How would it be
+when, behind iron bars, and hope cut off, they _could_ not be kept?"
+
+
+
+Mr. Mercier felt that if the Government was not to suffer serious loss
+of _prestige_, it must adopt heroic measures.
+
+Mr. Mercier obtained from the city of Montreal the loan of fifteen
+picked men. He placed these in the immediate charge of High Constable
+Bissonnette. Major Dugas, a police magistrate, a skilled lawyer, and a
+gallant officer, who, in 1885, had promptly responded to the call of
+duty in the North-West, he placed in supreme command of this expedition,
+to which he said dramatically, "Arrest Morrison!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE HUNTED OUTLAW.
+
+The expedition arrived in Stornaway upon a raw morning in April.
+
+Donald knew all that could be learned within an hour.
+
+"I must be careful now," he said. "Well, if they can follow me through
+the woods on snowshoes, they're welcome to begin the pursuit."
+
+Major Dugas' capacity was largely magisterial. He had the supreme
+direction of the men, indeed, but the carrying out of the movements
+was to be entrusted to the High Constable. The men had been carefully
+chosen. They were armed with rifles and revolvers, and their orders were
+to shoot Morrison, if, when accosted, he should refuse to surrender.
+Major Dugas' plan was eminently politic. He first wanted to conciliate
+the people, and then induce them to bring such pressure upon Donald as
+would induce him to surrender upon being promised a fair trial. "This,"
+said the Major to the leading men of the place, with whom he placed
+himself in communication the first day of his arrival, "is the wisest
+way to end the affair. The Government is in earnest. Morrison must be
+arrested. No matter how long it takes, this must be accomplished. Let
+the people come to the assistance of the law, let them refuse to harbor
+Morrison, and the thing is done. But should they fail to do this, then,
+however disagreeable it may be to me, I must arrest all suspected of
+helping him in any way."
+
+At first the people were sullen. They resented the incursion of an armed
+force. Among the party was Sergeant Clarke, who brought his bagpipes
+with him. There may be some people who have a prejudice against the
+bagpipes. This proceeds from defective musical education. Sergeant
+Clarke's bagpipes proved a potent factor in securing the personal
+goodwill of the people. He played "Auld Scottish airs," and many of the
+old men, mellowed with whiskey, wept in the bar-room of the little hotel
+at Stornaway. The courtesy of Major Dugas, and the civil bearing of the
+men, told upon the people, but nevertheless they did not abate one jot
+of what they called their loyalty to Donald.
+
+The latter's best friends now saw there could only be one ending. Donald
+might not be taken alive. But he would be taken, alive or dead. That
+was clear. The Government could not now retreat. The expedition must be
+carried to a successful issue. Whatever hope there was for Donald if
+brought to trial now, there would be none if he shed more blood. But
+Donald was past reasoning with. These considerations, urged again and
+again, fell upon dull ears. "I am determined," he said, "to fight it
+out." He said this with firmly compressed lips. It was useless to
+persuade.
+
+The expedition was divided into three parties. To cordon the woods would
+have required an army. The points covered were Stornaway (Major Dugas'
+headquarters), Gould and Marsden. Photographs of the outlaw were
+obtained and distributed among the men. The roads were mud, and the
+woods filled with soft snow. Infinite difficulty was experienced at
+every turn. The men were not prepared for roughing it. They required
+long boots and snowshoes. They had neither. Detective Carpenter, indeed,
+essayed the "sifters," but he could make little progress, and he did not
+see the man whose name was upon every lip, and who had just declared to
+the enterprising reporter who had penetrated to his fastness, "that he
+would never be taken alive." The several parties contented themselves
+with scouring the roads, watching the railroad, and searching the houses
+of sympathizers. This continued for a week, night and day. There was no
+result. The men suffered great privations. But the duty was new, the
+adventure was exciting, and the element of peril lent spice to it. And
+then, was there not the consideration of $3,000? So, at Gould, and
+Stornaway the men made merry in the few hours' rest allotted to them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+DONALD IN THE WOODS OF MEGANTIC.
+
+This romantic region has been proudly termed the Switzerland of Canada.
+Its majestic hills--so grandly rugged--its placid lakes, and its
+dense and undulating forests lend an indescribable enchantment to the
+companion and lover of nature, who for the first time beholds their
+supreme beauty. The tree-topped hills in their altitude are at times
+lost in the clouds. The lumberman has not yet ventured to their summits.
+He contents himself with a house in a more convenient and safer spot.
+The monotony of the prevailing quietness around these spots is only
+broken by the tiny little stream as it meanders on its course to the
+bottom, where it refreshes the weary traveller who may perchance pass
+that way. Tableland there is none except little patches of less than
+an acre. The environments of this region are peculiarly suited to the
+nature and tastes of the settlers, who will tell you that they would not
+change them for all the gold you could offer. The means of access to the
+villages, away from the railway, are extremely poor. The roads--if they
+can be so called--offer little inducement to the tourist. The woods
+adapt themselves to the security of the fugitive at all times and during
+all seasons. In summer the verdant branches darken the surroundings,
+while in the winter months the drooping boughs, appealing in their
+solitude to nature, are sufficient in their loneliness to convince one
+that to penetrate into their midst is by no means a safe venture.
+
+Yet it was here that Donald spent his days and nights at this period.
+Did Donald hesitate whether his bed was to be on feathers or branches?
+No. His friends were always his first consideration, and did he for
+a moment think that by spending a night at a friend's cabin he would
+endanger their hospitality, he would quietly retire to the woods. His
+bed consisted of a few balsam branches spread rudely on the ground,
+with the overhanging boughs pulled down and by some means or other
+transformed into a bower. This as a means of protection. When the snow
+covered the ground to the depth of several feet, Donald did not change
+his couch, but he made the addition of a blanket, which, next to his
+firearms, he considered his greatest necessity. He slept well, excepting
+when he was awakened by the roar of a bear or some other wild animal.
+Then he simply mounted a tree, and with revolver cocked, awaited
+his would-be intruder. His life in the woods--so full of exciting
+events--was pleasant and safe. He never for a moment believed that he
+could be caught were he to remain hidden among the towering pines.
+Often--strong man as he was--would he allow his feelings to overcome him
+when thinking of the possibilities which he believed life might have
+had in store for him. The constant mental strain under which he found
+himself seemed to affect but lightly his keen sense of vivacity. Wearily
+did he pass some of his time amidst the verdancy of the woods. The sun
+often rose and set unheeded by the fugitive. When darkness set in he
+would furtively steal out to a friend's hut, where he would participate
+in the frugal supper, and afterwards engage in the family worship, which
+is never forgotten by the Highlanders.
+
+He was always welcome wherever he went. He had no fear of being
+betrayed. He knew his friends, and trusted them. Were he invited to
+share the couch of his host, he would first ascertain whether all was
+safe, and then stealthily enter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+SECOND WEEK OF THE SEARCH--MAJOR DUGAS BECOMES SEVERE.
+
+A week was gone. Donald had not been caught. Major Dugas' policy of
+conciliation had won personal regard. It had not caused the slightest
+wavering among Donald's friends. The very men to whom the Major talked
+every day knew his hiding-place, and could have placed their hands upon
+him at an hour's notice. They made no sign. Every fresh measure of the
+authorities was known to Donald, and during the first week--devoted,
+as we have said, to a rigorous search of the farmhouses likely to be
+visited by the fugitive--the police repeatedly reached his hiding-place
+only to find that the bird had just taken wing!
+
+Major Dugas was in his room at the Stornaway hotel. A severe look was
+in his eye. He had tried conciliation. That had failed. It was idle to
+expect any assistance from the people. The better sort--perhaps all of
+them--would have been glad if the fugitive had surrendered, but they
+were not going to help the authorities to induce him to do so. Very
+well. Then they, must be punished for conniving at his outlawry.
+
+High Constable Bissonnette entered for orders.
+
+"I have determined," said the Major, "to arrest all who may be suspected
+of harboring Morrison. This measure will probably bring the people
+to their senses. But for their help he must surrender. When that is
+removed, I am hopeful that we can take him without bloodshed. I will
+issue the necessary warrants, and I will hand them over to you for
+execution. The measure is a severe one, but the circumstances justify
+it."
+
+The High Constable looked ruefully at his clothing, torn and covered
+with mud. M. Bissonnette had ample energy. He entered upon the hunt with
+a light heart. He had not spared himself, and had even ventured into
+the wood without either long boots or snow-shoes. He was fatigued and
+dilapidated, but he had not caught Donald.
+
+"All right, your honor," said the High Constable, when the Major has
+signed a batch of warrants, "I will have these attended to at once."
+
+The High Constable was as good as his word.
+
+The prominent friends of Donald were arrested and conveyed to Sherbrooke
+Jail, bail being refused.
+
+Major Dugas had committed an error. This measure, undertaken with the
+proper motive of putting an end to the struggle by depriving the outlaw
+of all chance of help, was impolitic. It accomplished nothing. The men
+were arrested, but the women remained. The shelters still remained for
+the fugitive. A bitter feeling now grew in the common breast against
+the police--a feeling which the women, whose sympathies were with the
+outlaw, and who resented the arrest of their husbands, fathers, and
+brothers, did their utmost to encourage. The police found it hopeless to
+get a scrap of information. The common people even refused to fraternize
+with them in the evenings when they were gathered round the bar-room of
+the village hotel.
+
+During this second week the police made a great effort to locate the
+fugitive. There were constant rumors regarding his whereabouts. He had
+been seen at Gould. He had slept last night at his Father's house. He
+had been seen on the edge of the wood. He had been seen to board a train
+bound for Montreal. The Scotch delight in grim humor. These rumors
+reached the police at their meals, and there was a scramble for firearms
+and a rush for the wagons. They reached them at midnight, while they
+were dreaming of terrific encounters with murderous outlaws in the heart
+of the forest, and there was a wild rush into the darkness. A few of
+Donald's nearest friends, who had escaped arrest, and started the rumors
+to favor the movements of the outlaw, laughed sardonically at the labors
+they imposed upon the police.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+"MANY WATERS CANNOT QUENCH LOVE."
+
+ "Had we never loved sae kindly,
+ Had we never loved sae blindly,
+ Never met and never parted,
+ We had ne'er been broken-hearted."
+
+
+Ideal love does not ask conventional recognition. Love is not comfort,
+nor house, nor lands, nor the tame delights of use and wont. Love is
+sacrifice. Always ask love to pour out its gifts upon the altar of
+sacrifice. This is to make love divine. But fill the cup of love with
+comfort, and certainty, and calm days of ease, and you make it poor and
+cheap. The zest of love is uncertainty. When love has to breast the
+Hellespont it feels its most impassioned thrill. Let there be distance,
+and danger, and separation and tears in love. Let there be dull
+certainty, and custom stales its dearest delights.
+
+Love is worthiest when it asks no requital. Minnie knew that all was
+over. She received short notes from Donald from time to time, and the
+newspapers kept her informed of the progress of events. She clearly
+perceived that if Donald did not give himself up, one of the two things
+must happen--he would either be killed himself by the police, or he
+would kill one or more of his pursuers, with the certainty of being
+ultimately caught, and probably hung. In her letters she implored him to
+give himself up, and not further incense the Government, which was not
+disposed to be implacable. Finding all her entreaties unavailing, she
+determined to visit him. This was a bold resolution. It was carried out
+without hesitation. A more sophisticated nature would have asked--"Will
+this seem modest?" Modesty itself never asks such a question. Modesty is
+not conscious. There is no blush on its cheek. Minnie believed that if
+she could see Donald, she could persuade him to give himself up.
+
+We won't tell you what Minnie wore, nor how she got to Marsden, nor what
+fears she endured, lest the police, suspecting her as a stranger, should
+follow her, and discover Donald's whereabouts.
+
+Minnie reached Marsden in safety. It was in the afternoon.
+
+She had written a brief note to Donald, telling him that she was coming.
+
+The meeting took place in his father's house, the old people keeping
+guard, so as to be able to warn the fugitive should any stranger
+approach the house."
+
+"Donald!"
+
+"Minnie!"
+
+Then they shook hands.
+
+A mutual instinct caused them to shrink from endearments. Donald was
+brown, thin, and weary-looking. His pistols were in his pockets, and his
+rifle slung by his side. He had just come in from the woods.
+
+Minnie looked at him, and the calmness which she thought she had
+schooled herself to maintain deserted her. She burst into tears.
+
+"Oh! Donald, Donald," she cried, "why will you not end this? If you ever
+loved me, I beg of you to give yourself up, and stand your trial. Your
+friends will see that you get fair play. I never believed you guilty of
+murder. From what I can hear outside, nobody believes such a thing. That
+you should have taken a life is dreadful--dreadful! but that you took
+it in self-defence I fully believe. For God's sake, Donald, let the
+struggle end. You will be killed; or, carried away by passion, you may
+take another life, and then think of your terrible position. Can I move
+you? Once I could. I love you in this terrible hour as dearly as ever,
+and I would to God I could spare you what you must now suffer. But let
+me try to save you from yourself. Listen to reason. Give yourself up to
+Major Dugas. Your friends will procure the best legal advice, and who
+knows but that you may still have a future before you. Let me urge you,"
+and she went up to him, and laid her hand upon his arm, while the tears
+streamed down her cheeks.
+
+Donald took her hand, and kissed it. He was greatly moved. "I can't,
+Minnie," he said. "I can't do it. I would never get a fair trial. I feel
+it. No, once arrested, they would either keep me in jail for ever, or
+hang me. I have baffled them now for nearly a year, and I can baffle
+them still. They must give up at last."
+
+"But have you not heard," Minnie said, "that they are bringing on
+fifteen more men from Quebec?"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Donald, smiling sadly it seemed, "I am kept well
+informed, though they have arrested most of my friends. Let them bring
+on a hundred men. They can't take me without I'm betrayed."
+
+"And I saw in the papers," said Minnie, with a look of horror, "that if
+these failed, they would employ bloodhounds against you."
+
+Donald flushed. "I can't believe they would dare to do such a thing," he
+said. "Public opinion would not stand it. No, I'm not afraid of that."
+
+"Then, must my visit be in vain, Donald?" Minnie pleaded.
+
+"I may be acting unwisely, Minnie," Donald responded, "but I can't agree
+to give myself up. I feel that I must fight it out as I am doing. What
+the end will be God only knows. But I want you to forget me, Minnie.
+Forget me, and learn, by and by, to be happy in other companionships.
+You are young, and life is before you. I never thought we would end like
+this. But it must be. I can't recall what has happened. I am an outlaw.
+Perhaps the scaffold awaits me. Your love would have blessed my life. I
+suppose fate would not have it so."
+
+"Donald, Donald." It was the voice of his mother, who now came quickly
+in exclaiming, "they are coming towards the house; away to the bush;
+quick."
+
+Donald took Minnie's hand and wrung it hard. He bent down and kissed her
+forehead. "God bless you," he said--"farewell."
+
+Then he rushed out of the house, and disappeared from view in the woods.
+
+It was a party of five policemen, armed with rifles.
+
+They were too late!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+MAJOR DUGAS MEETS THE OUTLAW FACE TO FACE--A UNIQUE INTERVIEW.
+
+Minnie was right about the reinforcements, though the suggestion as to
+bloodhounds proved to be nothing but idle rumor. Fifteen men came
+from Quebec. The expedition numbered now thirty-five men. The search
+increased in rigor. The houses were visited day and night. The roads and
+the outskirts of the wood were watched almost constantly. Donald was not
+caught. He could not sleep in the houses of his friends, but he could
+make a bed in the woods. He could not venture to take a meal under a
+roof, but a neighbor woman could always manage to bring him a loaf of
+bread and a bottle of milk. The police visited his father's house, broke
+open his trunk, and took away all his letters, including poor Minnie's
+correspondence--an act which, when Donald knew of it, caused him to
+declare with an oath that if he met the man who did it, he would shoot
+him down like a dog.
+
+Major Dugas was disgusted. He had been in the district nearly three
+weeks. He had tried conciliation. That had failed. He had tried
+severity. That, too, had failed. He had increased the searching force.
+That, also, had availed nothing.
+
+When, therefore, three of Donald's firmest friends approached the Major
+with the proposition that he should order the suspension of operations
+while he held an interview with the outlaw, they found him not
+indisposed to listen to the extraordinary proposal. Donald was to be
+found, and his friends pledged their honor that he would meet the Major
+when and where he pleased, provided the latter would give his word that
+he would take no measures to arrest him.
+
+Major Dugas hesitated for a long time, but finally accepted the terms.
+He was severely blamed in the press for parleying with an outlaw.
+Whatever maybe said about the wisdom of the arrangement, in scrupulously
+observing the terms of it, Major Dugas acted like a gentleman and a man
+of honor. That he should be blamed for honoring his own pledged word
+proves how crude is the common code of ethics.
+
+Major Dugas ordered the suspension of operations. In the company
+of Donald's friends, he drove to Marsden; and there, in a rude log
+school-house, he was introduced to the famous outlaw.
+
+"You are alone, Major Dugas," Donald said suspiciously, keeping his
+hands upon his pistols.
+
+"Quite alone," the Major replied. "I have acceded to the wish of your
+friends, in order to avert the possibility of bloodshed. Now, Morrison,
+I ask you to surrender like a sensible man. Your capture is only a
+matter of time. The Government must vindicate the law, no matter at what
+cost. Give yourself up, and I will do what in me lies to see that you
+get the utmost fair play in your trial. I speak to you now in a friendly
+way. I have no personal feeling in the matter. I am the instrument of
+the law. If this pursuit is continued, there will probably be bloodshed
+either on one side or the other. You are only making your position
+worse by holding out; and think what it will be if there is any more
+shooting."
+
+"The Major speaks reasonably, Donald," Morrison's friends said, "for
+God's sake, take his advice."
+
+"Can the Major give me the $900 of which I have been defrauded, to help
+me to conduct my defence?" Donald asked.
+
+"I have nothing to do with your money matters whatever," the Major
+replied. "I can make no terms with you of that nature. I am here to urge
+your surrender on the grounds of prudence, for the sake of your own
+interests."
+
+"It was very kind of you, Major, to grant this interview," the outlaw
+said, "but I can't surrender unless you can give me some promise, either
+of money or an acquittal."
+
+"Oh, this is absurd," the Major said. "Our interview ends. Within six
+hours the pursuit will be recommenced. My last word to you, Morrison,
+is, don't make your case hopeless by shooting any more."
+
+"I will take your advice, Major. I give you my word," Donald replied.
+
+"Well, good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye, sir."
+
+Thus ended the memorable interview.
+
+Major Dugas drove back to Stornaway in disgust. He ordered the
+resumption of the search, and upon the following morning left for
+Montreal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+THE EXPEDITION IS BROKEN UP.
+
+Donald's friends were greatly disappointed. They fully expected that he
+would surrender himself to Major Dugas.
+
+A few days subsequent to the interview it was announced that the
+expedition had been broken up. The Government had recalled all the men
+but five, who were left in charge of Detective Carpenter.
+
+There was a tacit confession of failure.
+
+The opposition press burst into a loud guffaw. "Was this the result of
+a year's effort to capture a criminal? Was this the return for all the
+expenditure which had been incurred?" The comic papers poked outrageous
+fun at the expedition. The illustrated journals mocked it in pen and ink
+sketches that smarted like aquafortis. The ribald versifiers flouted it
+in metrical lampoons whose burden was--"The man I left behind me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+CARPENTER ON THE SCENT--A NARROW ESCAPE.
+
+Carpenter had five men at his disposal, and he was sanguine that an
+unremitting pursuit must end in the capture of the outlaw. Consequently,
+upon the removal of the bulk of the expedition, he set himself to make
+such disposition of his men as would lead to the most substantial
+results. Where did Donald get his food? Where did he get changes of
+clothing? He _must_ pay visits to the houses in the neighborhood. They
+had been searched in vain. Very well. Let them be searched again. Let
+them be persistently watched. The outlaw would be tracked at last.
+
+It was about ten o'clock at night. Dark, heavy clouds hung overhead like
+a mournful pall. A brooding darkness and silence enveloped the woods.
+
+A figure parted the young branches, came out into the open, ran
+stealthily along the road, reached a small cottage, and disappeared
+within it.
+
+Donald had tempted fate at a moment when fate, in the form of two eager
+officers of the law, was closing him in.
+
+McMahon and the Indian scout were out that night. They had made a round
+of the cottages. Fatigued and a little dispirited, they were about to go
+back to their quarters, when a feeble glimmer of light was seen through
+the darkness, proceeding from the cottage which Donald had entered.
+
+"Is it worth while to search it?" McMahon asked his companion
+doubtfully.
+
+"Well," replied the scout, "we may as well take it in to wind up for the
+night. I don't suppose we'll have any luck."
+
+"Not likely," McMahon said. Donald was eating a little plain supper,
+when the poor honest peasant woman whose hospitality he was sharing,
+thought she heard footsteps outside the door. She listened. "Donald," she
+said, in a quick, sharp voice, "I hear footsteps. They are approaching
+the door. It may be the police. What will you do?"
+
+"I don't think they're about so late," Donald replied carelessly,
+feeling nevertheless for his pistols in his pockets.
+
+"Donald, they're coming. It's the police. I'm sure of it. My God, if
+you should be taken. Here, quick! come into this bedroom, and lie quiet
+under the bed."
+
+Donald sprang from his seat and did as he was directed. He was not a
+moment too soon.
+
+The police knocked smartly at the door.
+
+The woman opened it.
+
+"Have you got Morrison here?" McMahon asked.
+
+"Look and see," the woman replied.
+
+The two men searched the four rooms of the small house, and then they
+sat down upon the bed beneath which, close to the wall, Donald was
+concealed!
+
+"There's no use in stopping here," Leroyer said.
+
+"No," replied McMahon, "we may as well go." As he spoke he carelessly
+ran the butt end of his rifle under the bed!
+
+Donald grew to the wall, and held his breath!
+
+The rifle conveyed no sense of contact. It was thrust in without
+conscious motive.
+
+The police took their departure.
+
+"What a narrow escape!" Donald said, when he had emerged from his
+hiding-place. His face showed pale beneath the bronze. The perspiration
+stood in beads upon his brow.
+
+The friendly creature who sheltered him trembled like an aspen.
+
+She had expected discovery, arrest, perhaps even bloodshed. She felt all
+a woman's exaggerated horror of police, and law, and violence.
+
+"Forgive me," Donald said, "for coming near the house. I'll not trouble
+you again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+ANOTHER TRUCE ASKED FOR.
+
+The friends of the outlaw made a last effort to bring about an
+accommodation. A noted lawyer in Toronto had been written to, and had
+offered to defend him. They went to Donald, showed him the letter, and
+peremptorily insisted that he should give himself up, or be content to
+have all his friends desert him.
+
+Perhaps the outlaw realized at last how severely he had tried his
+friends' patience.
+
+"Very well," he said, "I agree to give myself up. Tell the police, and
+get them to suspend operations. Come back here and let me know what they
+say."
+
+Detective Carpenter was seen, and the situation explained to him.
+
+"Well," said he, "I don't believe in truces with outlaws. This thing has
+lasted long enough. But if you can rely upon this new attitude of the
+outlaw's, I would not be averse to a short suspension, though, if my men
+meet him before your next interview, they will certainly do their best
+to capture him."
+
+Carpenter had placed two men--McMahon and Pete Leroyer (an Indian
+scout)--close to the outlaw's home, and told them to watch for him
+entering, and capture him at all hazards.
+
+Carpenter knew that Donald must get his changes of clothing at his
+father's, and that a strict watch would sooner or later be rewarded.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+SHOTS IN THE DARKNESS--DONALD IS CAPTURED.
+
+It was about eight o'clock on Sunday evening. McMahon and Leroyer had
+watched all through Saturday night and all through Sunday close to the
+house, hidden from view in the bush. They were wetted through with the
+snow; they were cold and hungry.
+
+In the gathering darkness two men passed them, knocked at the cottage
+door and entered.
+
+"Did you see who they were?" McMahon asked.
+
+"No," said his companion. "But see! they have lit the lamp; I'll creep
+forward and look through."
+
+The scout crept towards the window on his hands and knees. He was as
+lithe and stealthy as a panther. He raised his head and looked in.
+"My God, it's Morrison," he said to himself, as he crept back to his
+companion.
+
+"It's Morrison," he said in an eager whisper. "I saw him sitting on a
+chair, talking to his mother. We have him when he comes out. How'll we
+take him?"
+
+"We must call upon him to surrender, and if he refuses we must fire so
+as to lame, but not to hurt him."
+
+At the moment that the glowing eyes of the scout looked in through the
+window, Donald was sitting on a chair in the middle of the floor talking
+to his mother, who was filling a bottle of milk for him.
+
+"I'm to meet M---- in the morning in the woods, and then I'm going to
+surrender. The police by this time know my intention."
+
+"You have acted wisely, Donald," his mother said. "We will all see that
+you get a fair trial. My poor hunted boy, what have you suffered during
+the past twelve months. Anything would be better than this. You are
+liable to be caught at any moment--perhaps shot."
+
+"Have no fear, mother, on that score. I hope I am acting for the best in
+giving myself up."
+
+"I'm sure you are, Donald. Here's your bottle of milk and your blanket."
+
+"I don't know what may happen before we meet again, mother. Good-bye,"
+and he bent down and kissed her withered face.
+
+He opened the door, and went out into the darkness. "Throw up your
+hands," a ringing voice exclaimed.
+
+"My God, I'm betrayed at last," Donald muttered, as he leaped the fence
+close to the house, and made a straight line for the woods.
+
+McMahon and the scout leaped from their concealment, followed hard upon
+the fugitive, and fired repeatedly at him from their revolvers.
+
+Could he escape?
+
+He had fronted worse perils than this. Would fortune still smile upon
+him, or, deserting him in the moment of supreme need, leave him to
+destiny? The darkness favored him. The dense woods were near. Would he
+be able to reach them in safety?
+
+McMahon and Leroyer, by simply going up to the door, and grasping the
+outlaw firmly the moment he came out, might have made the capture in a
+perfectly certain though commonplace manner. Both might be forgiven,
+however, for a little nervousness and excitement. The prize was within
+their grasp. For this moment they had lain out in the snow, wet and
+hungry. Brought suddenly face to face with the moment, the moment was a
+little too big for them. Neither of the pursuers aimed very steadily.
+They grasped their revolvers, and made red punctures in the night.
+
+What was that? A cry of pain.
+
+The pursuers came up, and saw a figure totter and fall at their feet.
+
+"You have caught me at last," Donald said; "but had the truce been kept,
+you never could have taken me."
+
+The outlaw was wrapped in blankets and conveyed to Sherbrooke prison,
+and the following morning the papers announced all over the Dominion
+that "Donald Morrison, the famous outlaw, who had defied every effort of
+the Government for twelve months, had been captured, after having been
+severely wounded in the hip by a revolver shot."
+
+In the jail Donald said--"I was taken by treachery."
+
+But the outlaw had been secured!
+
+
+
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+It was dreadfully unromantic, but Minnie did not fall into a decline.
+She is alive and well at this moment. Life may be over, and yet we may
+live functionally through long stagnant years. Life is not a calendar
+of dates, but of feelings. Minnie will live a calm, chastened life. She
+cannot love again; but she is not soured by her experience. She will be
+one of those rare old maids who are so sweet and wholesome that even
+youth, hot and impatient, tenders cordial homage to them.
+
+Minnie braves her sorrow bravely. To look at her one would not suspect
+that she had ever passed through deep suffering. Disappointment and
+loss either curl the lips in bitter cynicism, or give them so soft, so
+gracious, so touching an expression, as make their caress, falling upon
+the wretched and forsaken, a benediction. When suffering steels the
+heart, and poises the nature in an attitude of silent scorn for the
+worst affront of fortune, it is fatal. It takes the life simply. That is
+all. When it melts the heart, pity finds a soft place, and the ministry
+of sorrow becomes, not a phrase, but an experience. Very few know
+Minnie's secret. Her parents never mention the name of Donald Morrison.
+She quietly goes about her modest duties, and the few poor old people in
+the village left desolate in their old age, when the shadows lengthen,
+and, the gloom of the long night is gathering, find that she has
+
+ "A tear for pity,
+ And a hand open as day for melting charity."
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Outlaw, by Anonymous
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Outlaw, by Anonymous
+
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+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: The Hunted Outlaw
+ or, Donald Morrison, The Canadian Rob Roy
+
+Author: Anonymous
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9331]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on September 23, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED OUTLAW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders from images generously made available
+by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+HUNTED OUTLAW;
+
+OR
+
+DONALD MORRISON,
+
+THE CANADIAN ROB ROY
+
+
+
+_"Truth is stranger than Fiction."_
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE.
+
+Psychology strips the soul and, having laid it bare, confidently
+classifies every phase of its mentality. It has the spring of every
+emotion carefully pigeon-holed; it puts a mental finger upon every
+passion; it maps out the soul into tabulated territories of feeling; and
+probes to the earliest stirrings of motive.
+
+A crime startles the community. The perpetrator is educated, wise,
+enjoys the respect of his fellows. His position is high: his home is
+happy: he has no enemies.
+
+Psychology is stunned. The deed is incredible. Of all men, this was the
+last who could be suspected of mental aberration. The mental diagnosis
+decreed him healthy. He was a man to grace society, do credit to
+religion, and leave a fair and honored name behind him.
+
+The tabulation is at fault.
+
+The soul has its conventional pose when the eyes of the street are upon
+it. Psychology's plummet is too short to reach those depths where motive
+has its sudden and startling birth.
+
+Life begins with the fairest promise, and ends in darkness.
+
+It is the unexpected that stuns us.
+
+Heredity, environment and temperament lead us into easy calculations
+of assured repose and strength, and permanency of mental and moral
+equilibrium.
+
+The act of a moment makes sardonic mockery of all our predictions.
+
+The whole mentality is not computable.
+
+Look searchingly at happiness, and note with sadness that a tear stains
+her cheek.
+
+A dark, sinister thread runs through the web of life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+ "Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
+ Their homely joys and destiny obscure,
+ Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,
+ The short and simple annals of the poor." _Gray_.
+
+The Counties of Compton and Beauce, in the Province of Quebec, were
+first opened up to settlement about fifty years ago. To this spot a
+small colony of Highlanders from the Skye and Lewis Islands gravitated.
+They brought with them the Gaelic language, a simple but austere
+religion, habits of frugality and method, and aggressive health. That
+generation is gone, or almost gone, but the essential characteristics of
+the race have been preserved in their children. The latter are generous
+and hospitable, to a fault. Within a few miles of the American frontier,
+the forces of modern life have not reached them. Shut in by immense
+stretches of the dark and gloomy "forest primeval," they live drowsily
+in a little world where passions are lethargic, innocence open-eyed, and
+vice almost unknown. Science has not upset their belief in Jehovah. God
+is real, and somewhat stern, and the minister is his servant, to be
+heard with respect, despite the appalling length of his sermons.
+Sincerely pious, the people mix their religion with a little whiskey,
+and the blend appears to give satisfaction. The farmers gather at the
+village inn in the evening, and over a "drap o' Scotch" discuss the
+past. As the stimulant works, generous sentiments are awakened in the
+breast; and the melting songs of Robbie Burns--roughly rendered, it may
+be--make the eye glisten. This is conviviality; but it has no relation
+to drunkenness. Every household has its family altar; and every night,
+before retiring to rest, the family circle gather round the father or
+the husband, who devoutly commends them to the keeping of God.
+
+The common school is a log hut, built by the wayside, and the
+"schoolmarm" is not a pretentious person. But, what the school cannot
+supply, a long line of intelligent, independent ancestors have supplied,
+robust, common sense and sagacity.
+
+Something of the gloom and sternness of the forest, something of the
+sadness which is a conscious presence, is in their faces. Their humor
+has a certain savor of grimness. For the rest, it may be said that they
+are poor, and that they make little effort to be anything else. They do
+a little farming and a little lumbering. They get food and clothing,
+they are attached to their homesteads, and the world with all its
+tempting possibilities passes them by. The young people seek the States,
+but even they return, and end their days in the old home. They marry,
+and get farms, and life moves with even step, the alternating seasons,
+with their possibilities, probably forming their deepest absorptions. It
+remains only to be said that, passionately attached to the customs, the
+habits of thought of their forefathers, the Highlanders of the Lake
+Megantic region are intensely clannish. Splendidly generous, they would
+suffer death rather than betray the man who had eaten of their salt.
+Eminently law-abiding, they would not stretch out a hand to deprive of
+freedom one who had thrown himself upon their mercy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DONALD MORRISON APPEARS ON THE SCENE.
+
+Life, could we only be well assured of it, is at the best when it is
+simple. The woods of Lake Megantic in the summer cast a spell upon the
+spirit. They are calm and serene, and just a little sad. They invite to
+rest, and their calm strength and deep silence are a powerful rebuke to
+passion.
+
+Amongst the deep woods of Marsden, Donald Morrison spent his young
+years. His parents were in fairly comfortable circumstances, as the term
+is understood in Compton. Donald was a fair-haired boy, whose white
+forehead his mother had often kissed in pride as she prepared him, with
+shining morning face, for the village school. Donald was the pride of
+the village. Strong for his years and self-assertive, the boys feared
+him. Handsome and fearless, and proud and masterful, his little girl
+school-mates adored him. They adored him all the more that he thought it
+beneath his boyish dignity to pay them attention. This is true to all
+experience. Donald was passionate. He could not brook interference. He
+even thus early, when he was learning his tablets at the village school,
+developed those traits, the exercise of which, in later life, was to
+make his name known throughout the breadth of the land. Generous and
+kind-hearted to a degree, his impatience often hurried him into actions
+which grieved his parents. He was generally in hot water at school. He
+fought, and he generally won, but his cause was not always right. He was
+supple, and he excelled in the village games.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A LITTLE GIRL WITH YELLOW HAIR.
+
+Minnie Duncan went to the same school with Donald. She was a shy little
+thing with big brown eyes, which looked at you wistfully, and a mass
+of yellow hair, which the sun in the summer mornings loved to burnish.
+Minnie at the age of ten felt drawn to Donald, as timid women generally
+feel drawn toward masterful men, ignoring the steadier love of gentler
+natures. Donald had from the start constituted himself her protector
+in a lordly way. He had once resented a belittling remark which a
+schoolmate had used towards her, by soundly thrashing the urchin who
+uttered it. Minnie pitied the lad, but she secretly adored Donald. He
+was her hero. Donald was good enough to patronize her. Minnie was too
+humble to resent this attitude. Was he not handsome and strong, with
+fearless blue eyes; were not all her little girl companions jealous of
+her? Did he not go to and come from school with her and carry her books?
+Above all, had he not done battle in her behalf?
+
+Minnie Duncan was the only daughter of John and Mary Duncan, who lived
+close to the Morrisons', upon a comfortable farm. She was dearly loved,
+and she returned the affection bestowed upon her with the beautiful
+_abandon_ of that epoch when the tide of innocent trust and love is
+at the full. They had never expressed their hopes in relation to her
+future; but the wish of their hearts was that she might grow into a
+modest, God-fearing woman, find a good farmer husband, and live and die
+in the village.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+"MINNIE, MINNIE," SHE SAID, "I MUST GUARD MY SECRET."
+
+Donald Morrison was now twenty-three. The promise of his boyhood had
+been realized. He was well made, with sinews like steel. He had a blonde
+moustache, clustering hair, a well shaped mouth, firm chin. His blue
+eyes had a proud, fearless look. The schoolmarm had taught Donald the
+three "R's"; he had read a little when he could spare the money for
+books; and at the period we are now dealing with he was looked up to
+by all in the village as a person of superior knowledge. His youth and
+young manhood had been spent working upon his father's farm. Latterly he
+had been working upon land which his father had given him, in the hope
+that he would marry and settle down. He had become restless. The village
+was beginning to look small, and he asked himself with wonderment how
+he had been content in it so long. The work was hard and thankless. Was
+this life? Was there nothing beyond this? Was there not not a great
+world outside the forest? What was this? Was it not stagnation? The
+woods--yes, the woods were beautiful, but why was it they made him sad?
+Why was it that when the sun set against the background of the purple
+line of trees, he felt a lump in his throat? Why, when he walked along
+the roads in the summer twilight, did the sweet silence oppress him?
+He could not tell. He knew that he wanted away. He longed to be in the
+world of real men and women, where joy and suffering, and the extremest
+force of passion had active play.
+
+Minnie was now a schoolmarm--neat and simple, and sweet. Her figure was
+slender, and her hair a deep gold, parted simply in the centre, brought
+over the temples in crisp waves, and wound into a single coil behind.
+Her head was small and gracefully poised; her teeth as white as
+milk, because they had never experienced the destructive effects of
+confectionery; her cheeks, two roses in their first fresh bloom, because
+she had been reared upon simple food; her figure, slight, supple and
+well proportioned. She was eighteen. Her beautiful brown eyes wore a
+sweetly serious look. She had thought as a woman. She was pious, but
+somehow when she wandered through the woods, and noted how the wild
+flowers smiled upon her, and listened to the birds as they shook their
+very throats for joy, she could only think of the love, not the anger of
+God. God was good. His purpose was loving. How warm and beautiful and
+sweet was the sun! The sky was blue, and was there not away beyond the
+blue a place where the tears that stained the cheek down here would be
+all wiped away? Sorrow! Oh, yes, there was sorrow here, and somehow, the
+dearest things we yearned for were denied us. There were heavy burdens
+to bear, and life's contrasts were agonizing, and faith staggered a
+little; but when Minnie went to the woods with these thoughts, and
+looked into the timid eye of the violet, she said to herself softly,
+"God is love."
+
+A simple creature, you see, and not at all clever. I doubt if she had
+ever heard of Herbert Spencer, much less read his works. If you had told
+that she had been evolved from a jelly-fish, her brown eyes would only
+have looked at you wonderingly. You would have conveyed nothing to her.
+
+I must tell you that Minnie was romantic. The woods had bred in her the
+spirit of poetry. She loved during the holidays to go to the woods with
+a book, and, seating herself at the foot of a tree, give herself up
+to dreams--of happy, innocent love, and of calm life, without cloud,
+blessed by the smile of heaven.
+
+
+
+Love is a sudden, shy flame. Love is a blush which mounts to the cheek,
+and then leaves it pale. Love is the trembling pressure of hands which,
+for a delicious moment, meet by stealth. Love is sometimes the deep
+drawn sigh, the languor that steeps the senses, the sudden trembling
+to which no name can be given. Minnie was in love. The hero of her
+childhood was the hero of her womanhood. She loved Donald modestly but
+passionately; but she constantly said to herself in terror, "Oh, Minnie,
+Minnie, you must take care; guard your secret; never betray yourself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.
+
+ "Oh, happy love, where love like this is found!
+ Oh, heart-felt raptures, bliss beyond compare!
+ I've paced this weary mortal round,
+ And sage experience bids me this declare,
+ If heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,
+ One cordial in this melancholy vale,
+ 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair
+ In other's arms breathe out the tender tale,
+ Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale."
+
+Donald and Minnie had grown up together. They had shared in the social
+life of the village. They had been to little parties together. They had
+gone to the same church, sat in the same pew, sang the psalms from the
+same book. They had walked out together in the summer evenings, and both
+had felt the influence of the white moonlight which steeped the trees
+along the Marsden road. They had, so to say, appropriated each other,
+and yet there had been no word of love between them. They had spoken
+freely to each other; their hands had touched, and both had thrilled at
+the contact, and yet they were only friends! The village had settled it
+that they were lovers and that they would be married, and felt satisfied
+with its own decision, because both were popular.
+
+It was a summer afternoon, and they were in the woods together. Minnie
+had a basket for wild strawberries. None had been gathered. They were
+seated at the trunk of a tree. Donald had told her that he thought of
+leaving the country, and she felt stunned. Her heart stopped. She became
+as pale as death.
+
+"Yes, Minnie," he said, "I am tired of this life. I want away. I want to
+push my fortune. What is there here for me? What future is there for me?
+I want to go to the States. I can get along there. This life is too dull
+and narrow, and all the young fellows have left."
+
+"Perhaps I feel too that it is a little dull, Donald," Minnie said, "but
+not being a man, I suppose desires like yours would seem improper When
+you go," and her voice trembled a little, "I will feel the dullness all
+the more keenly."
+
+"And do you think it will not cost me an effort to sever our
+friendship?" Donald said with emotion; "we have been playmates in
+childhood and friends in riper years. I have been so accustomed to you
+that to leave you will seem like moving into darkness out of sunlight.
+Minnie," he went on, taking her hand, and speaking with fervor, "can
+we only be friends? We say that we are friends; but in my heart I have
+always loved you. When I began to love you I know not. I feel now that I
+cannot leave without telling you. Yes, Minnie, I love you, and you only;
+and it was the hope of bettering my prospects only to ask you to share
+them, that induced me to think of leaving. But I cannot leave without
+letting you know what I feel. Just be frank with me, and tell me, do you
+return my love? I cannot see your face. What! tears! Minnie, Minnie, my
+darling, you do care a little for me!"
+
+She could not look at him, for tears blinded her, but she said, simply,
+"Oh, Donald, I have loved you since childhood."
+
+"My own dear Minnie!" He caught her to his breast, and kissed her sweet
+mouth, her cheek, her hands and hair. He took off her summer hat, and
+smoothed her golden tresses; he pressed his lips to her white forehead,
+and called her his darling, his sweet Minnie.
+
+Minnie lay in his arms sobbing, and trembling violently. The restraint
+she had imposed on herself was now broken down, and she gave way to the
+natural feelings of her heart. She had received the first kisses of
+love. She was thrilled with delight and vague alarm.
+
+"Don't tremble, darling," he said, after a long silence.
+
+"Oh, Donald, I can't help it. What is this feeling? What does it mean?"
+
+It was unconscious passion!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+"SUCH PARTINGS AS CRUSH THE LIFE OUT OF YOUNG HEARTS."
+
+Donald had made up his mind to go West In vain his parents dissuaded
+him.
+
+Young love is hopeful, and Donald had pictured reunion in such
+attractive guise, that Minnie was half reconciled to his departure.
+
+But the parting was sad.
+
+Donald had spent the last evening at Minnie's parents.
+
+The clock has no sympathy with lovers. It struck the hours
+remorselessly. The parting moment had come. Minnie accompanied her lover
+to the door. He took her in his arms. He kissed her again and again. He
+said hopeful things, and he kissed away her tears. He stroked her hair,
+and drew her head upon his breast. They renewed their vows of love.
+
+Minnie said, through her sobs, "God bless you, Donald."
+
+He tore himself away!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+"TO THE WEST, TO THE WEST, THE LAND OF THE FREE."
+
+"Bully for Donald!"
+
+"Thar ain't no flies on him, boys, is thar?"
+
+"Warn't it neat?"
+
+"Knocked him out in one round, too!" The scene was a saloon in Montana.
+Six men were gathered round a table playing poker. The light was dim,
+the liquor was villainous, and the air was dense with tobacco smoke. It
+was a cowboy party, and one of the cowboys was Donald Morrison. He had
+adopted the free life of the Western prairies. He had learned to ride
+with the grace and shoot with the deadly skill of an Indian.
+
+'Twas a rough life, and he knew it. He mixed but little with the "Boys,"
+but the latter respected him for his manly qualities. He was utterly
+without fear. Courage is better than gold on the plains of Montana. He
+took to the life, partly because it was wild and adventurous, partly
+because he found that he could save money at it. The image of Minnie
+never grew dim in his heart, and he looked forward to a modest little
+home in his native village, graced and sweetened by the presence of a
+true woman.
+
+On this night he had yielded to the persuasion of a few of the boys, and
+went with them to "Shorty's" saloon for a game of "keerds."
+
+"Shorty" had a pretty daughter, who was as much out of place amid her
+coarse surroundings as violets in a coal mine.
+
+She was quite honest, and she served her father's customers with
+modesty. Kitty--that was her name--secretly admired the handsome Donald,
+who had always treated her with respect upon the infrequent occasions of
+his visits.
+
+On this night, while the party were at cards, "Wild Dick" Minton
+entered. He was a desperado, and it was said that he had killed at least
+two men in his time.
+
+"Wild Dick" swaggered in, roughly greeted the party, called for drink,
+and sat down in front of a small table close to the card players.
+
+Kitty served him with the drink.
+
+"Well, Kitty," he said with coarse gallantry, "looking sort o' purty
+to-night, eh? Say, gimme a kiss, won't yer?"
+
+Kitty blushed crimson with anger, but said nothing.
+
+"Wild Dick" got up and took her chin in his hand.
+
+"How dare you?" she said, stamping her foot with indignation.
+
+"My! how hoighty-toighty we are! Well, if yer won't give a feller a
+kiss, I must take it," and Dick put his arm round her waist, and drew
+her towards him.
+
+At that moment Donald, who had been watching his behaviour with
+increasing disgust and anger, leaped up, caught him by the throat with
+his left hand, and exclaimed: "Let her go, you scoundrel, or I'll thrash
+the life out of you."
+
+Without a word Dick whipped out his shooter from his hip pocket;
+Donald's companions leaped from the table, concluding at once there
+was going to be blood, while "Old Shorty" ducked behind the counter in
+terror.
+
+Kitty stood rooted to the spot, expecting to see her defender fall at
+her feet with a bullet through his brain or heart.
+
+Donald, the moment that Dick pulled out the pistol, grasped the arm that
+held it as with a vice with his right hand, and, letting go his hold, of
+his throat, with his left he wrenched the weapon from him.
+
+Then he dealt him a straight blow in the face that felled him like an
+ox.
+
+Dick rose to his feet with murder in his eyes.
+
+With a cry of rage he rushed upon Donald. The latter had learned to box
+as well as shoot. He was quite calm, though very pale. He waited for
+the attack, and then, judging his opportunity, let out his left with
+terrific force. The blow struck Dick behind the ear, and he fell to the
+ground with a heavy thud.
+
+He rose to his feet, muttered something about _his_ time coming, and
+slunk out.
+
+Donald's victory over "Wild Dick," who was regarded as a bully, was
+hailed in the exclamations which head this chapter.
+
+Donald never provoked a quarrel, but, once engaged, he generally came
+out victorious.
+
+His prowess soon became bruited abroad, and he had the goodwill of all
+the wild fellows of that wild region.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HARD TIMES AT HOME.
+
+Life is hard in the Megantic district. A very small portion of the land
+is susceptible of cultivation. The crops are meagre, and when the family
+is provided for, there is very little left to sell off the farm. Money
+is scarce. There is very little to be made in lumber.
+
+When Donald went away there was a debt against his farm. He sent from
+time to time what he could spare to wipe it off. But the times were bad.
+Donald's father got deeper into debt. The outlook was not encouraging.
+
+"I wish Donald would come home," the old man frequently muttered. "I
+wish he would," his mother would say, and then she would cry softly to
+herself.
+
+Poverty is always unlovely.
+
+Too often it is crime!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+ "Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,
+ And fondly broods with miser care."
+
+"DEAREST DONALD,--I received your kind letter. That you are doing well,
+and saving money for the purpose you speak of, it is pleasant to hear.
+That you still love me is what is dearest to my heart. I may confess
+in this letter what I could scarcely ever say in your presence, that
+I think of you always. All our old walks are eloquent of the calm and
+happy past. When I sit beneath the tree where I first learned that you
+cared for me, my thoughts go back, and I can almost hear the tones of
+your voice. I feel lonely sometimes. Your letters are a great solace. If
+I feel a little sad I go to my room, and unburden my heart to Him who is
+not indifferent even to the sparrow's fall. Sometimes the woods seem
+mournful, and when the wind, in these autumn evenings, wails through the
+pines, I don't know how it is, but I feel tears in my eyes.
+
+"And now, Donald, what I am going to tell you will surprise you. We are
+going away to Springfield, in Massachusetts. A little property has been
+left father there, and he is going to live upon it. Location does not
+affect feeling. My heart is yours wherever I may be.
+
+"God bless you, dearest.
+
+"Your own
+
+"MINNIE."
+
+Donald read this letter thoughtfully.
+
+"My father going to the bad, and Minnie going away," he muttered.
+
+He rose from his seat, and walked the narrow room in which he lodged.
+
+"I will go home," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+"BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE, THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME."
+
+Donald Morrison is back to the simple life of Marsden again. Five years
+had changed him enormously. His figure had always promise of athletic
+suppleness. It was now splendidly compact. He left the type of the
+conventional farmer. He returned the picturesque embodiment of the far
+West. Perhaps, in his long locks, wide sombrero, undressed leggings, and
+prodigal display of shooting irons, there may have been a theatrical
+suggestion of Buffalo Bill.
+
+The village folk accepted him with intense admiration. Here was
+something new to study. Had Donald not been to the great and wonderful
+Far West, so much the more fascinating because nobody knew anything
+about it? Had he not shot the buffalo roaming the plains? Had he not
+mingled in that wild life which, without moral lamp-posts, allures
+all the more because of a certain flavoring spice of deviltry? Every
+farmer's son in Marsden, Gould, Stornaway, and Lake Megantic, envied
+Donald that easy swaggering air, that frank, perhaps defiant outlook,
+which the girls secretly adored. Is it the village maiden alone who
+confesses to a secret charm in dare-devilism? Let the social life of
+every garrison city answer. The delicately nurtured lady's heart throbs
+beneath lace and silk, and that of the village girl beneath cotton, but
+the character of the emotion is the same.
+
+"Oh, Donald, Donald, my dear son!"
+
+Withered arms were round his neck, and loving lips pressed his cheek.
+
+Donald's home-coming had been a surprise. He had sent no word to
+his parents. His mother was sitting in the kitchen, when he entered
+unannounced. For a moment she did not know him, but a mother's love is
+seldom at fault. A second glance was enough. It passed over Donald the
+bronzed and weather-beaten man, and reached to Donald the curly-headed
+lad, whose sunny locks she had brushed softly when preparing him for
+school.
+
+"Yes, mother," said Donald, tenderly returning her greeting, "I am back
+again. I intend to settle down. Father's letter showed me that things
+were not going too well, and I thought I would come home and help to
+straighten them out a bit. I have had my fill of wandering, and now I
+think I would like to live quietly in the old place where I was born,
+among the friends and the scenes which are endeared to me by past
+associations."
+
+"Oh, I wish you would, Donald," the old mother replied, with moist eyes.
+"Your father wants you home, and I want you home. We're now getting old
+and feeble. We won't be long here. Remain with us to the close."
+
+"Well, Donald, my man, welcome back," a hearty voice cried.
+
+Upon looking round Donald saw his father, who had been out in the
+fields, and just came in as the mother was speaking. The two men
+cordially shook hands.
+
+"My, how changed you are," the father said. "I would hardly know you.
+From the tone of your letters, you have had an adventurous life in the
+West."
+
+"Well," said Donald, "at first the novelty attracted. I was free. There
+was no standard of moral attainment constantly thrust in your face, and
+that was an enormous relief to me. You know how I often rebelled against
+the strictness of life here. But even license fatigues; the new becomes
+the old; and where there is no standard there is but feeble achievement.
+I became a cowboy because that phase of life offered at a moment when
+employment was a necessity. I remained at it because I could make money.
+But I never meant this should be permanent. The wild life became dull to
+me, and I soon longed for the quiet scenes from which I had been so glad
+to escape. I learned to shoot and ride, and picked up a few things which
+may be useful to me here. And now, father, let us discuss your affairs."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"THE PRIDE OF THE VILLAGE."
+
+It was Saturday night in the village of Lake Megantic. The work of the
+week is done. There is a brief respite from labor which, severe and
+unremitting, dulls the mind and chokes the fountains of geniality and
+wit. The young men,--indeed, there was a sprinkling of grey hairs,
+too,--had gathered in the one hotel the village boasts of. There was a
+group in the little room off the bar, and another group in the bar-room
+itself. It was well for the host that the palates of his guests had
+not been corrupted by the "mixed drinks" of the cities. He steadily
+dispensed one article,--that was whiskey. It was quite superfluous to
+ask your neighbor what he would take. The whiskey was going round, and
+the lads were a little flushed. At the head of the room off the bar a
+piper was skirling with great energy, while in the centre of the room a
+strapping young fellow was keeping time to the music.
+
+The piper paused, and drew a long breath. The dancer resumed his seat.
+
+"I say, boys," said one of the party, "have you seen Donald Morrison
+since he came home?"
+
+Oh, yes, they had all seen him.
+
+"What do you think of him?" the first speaker asked.
+
+"Well," said a second speaker, "I think he is greatly changed. He's too
+free with his pistols. He seems to have taken to the habits of the West.
+I don't think we want them in Megantic."
+
+"I saw him riding down the road to-day," said a third speaker, "and he
+was using the cowboy stirrups and saddle. Talking of his pistols, he's
+the most surprising shot I ever saw. I saw him the other day in the
+village snuffing a candle, and cutting a fine cord at twenty paces."
+
+"He'd be an ugly customer in a row," remarked a fourth speaker.
+
+"No doubt," said the first young fellow, "but Donald never was a
+disorderly fellow, and I think his pistol shooting and defiant air are a
+bit of harmless bravado."
+
+The previous speaker appeared to be a bit of a pessimist. "I only hope,"
+he said, significantly, as it seemed, "that nothing will come of this
+carrying arms, and riding up and down the country like a page of
+Fenimore Cooper."
+
+"By the way," interposed the first speaker, "did you hear that Donald
+and his father had a dispute about the money which Donald advanced when
+he was away, and that legal proceedings are threatened?"
+
+No, none of the party had heard about it, but the pessimist remarked:
+"I hope there won't be any trouble. Donald, I think, is a man with decent
+instincts, but passion could carry him to great lengths. Once aroused,
+he might prove a dangerous enemy."
+
+The young man said these words earnestly enough, no doubt. He had no
+idea he was uttering a prophecy.
+
+How surprised we are sometimes to find that our commonplaces have been
+verified by fate, with all the added emphasis of tragedy!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+MODEST, SIMPLE, SWEET.
+
+Minnie is in her new home in Springfield.
+
+Springfield is a village set at the base of a series of hills, which it
+is an article of faith to call mountains. They are not on the map, but
+that matters little. We ought to be thankful that the dullness of the
+guide-book makers and topographists has still left us here and there
+serene bits of nature.
+
+Springfield had a church, and a school, and a post office, and a tavern.
+It was a scattered sort of place, and a week of it would have proved the
+death of a city lady, accustomed to life only as it glows with color, or
+sparkles with the champagne of passion. Minnie had never seen a city.
+She was content that her days should be spent close to the calm heart of
+nature. She felt the parting with old friends at Lake Megantic keenly.
+She murmured "farewell" to the woods in accents choked with tears.
+All the associations of childhood, and the more vivid and precious
+associations of her early womanhood, crowded upon her that last day.
+Donald occupied the chief place in her thoughts. He was far away. Should
+they ever meet again? Should their sweet companionships ever be renewed?
+
+The cares of her new home won her back to content.
+
+Minnie's mother was feeble, and required careful nursing. Her own early
+life had been darkened by hardships. When a young girl she had often
+gone supperless to bed. Her bare feet and legs were bitten by the
+cutting winds of winter. Her people had belonged to the North of
+Ireland. She herself was born in the south of Antrim. Her mother was
+early left a widow, without means of support. She worked in the fields
+for fourpence a day, from six to six, and out of this she had to pay
+a shilling a week for rent, and buy food and clothing for herself and
+orphan child. Her employer was a Christian, and deeply interested in
+the social and spiritual welfare of the heathen! When the outdoor
+work failed in the winter, she wound cotton upon the old-fashioned
+spinning-wheel, and Minnie's mother often hung upon the revolving spool
+with a fearful interest. Mother and child were often hungry. The finish
+of the cotton at a certain hour of the day meant a small pittance
+wherewith bread could be bought. A minute after the office hour, and
+to the pleading request that the goods be taken and the wages given, a
+brutal "No" would be returned, and the door slammed in the face of the
+applicant. This was frequently the experience of the poor woman and her
+child.
+
+At least death is merciful. It said to the widow--"Come, end the
+struggle. Close your eyes, and I will put you to sleep."
+
+Minnie's mother was adopted by a lady who subsequently took up her
+residence in Scotland, and a modest ray of sunshine thence continued to
+rest upon her life: but her early sufferings had left their mark.
+
+Of her mother's life Minnie knew but little. What she perceived was that
+she needed all her love and care, and these she offered in abundant
+measure.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A LETTER FROM DONALD.
+
+Minnie is in her little bedroom, and she is looking, with a shy surprise
+mixed with just a little guilt (which is sometimes so delicious), at her
+blushes in the glass. In her hand was a letter. That letter was from
+Donald. It had been handed to her at the breakfast table, and she had
+hastened to her room to have the luxury of secret perusal. With love
+there are only two beings in the entire universe. You say love is
+selfish. You are mistaken. Love loves secrecy. A blabbing tongue, the
+common look of day, kills love. The monopoly that love claims is the law
+of its being. If I transcribed Donald's letter you would say it was a
+very commonplace production. But Minnie kissed it twice, and put it
+softly in her bosom. The letter announced that he was home again, and
+that he would shortly pay her a visit. It just hinted that things were
+not going on well at home; but Minnie's sanguine temperament found no
+sinister suggestion in the words.
+
+The letter had made her happy. She put on her hat, and, taking the path
+at the back of the house that joined that which led to the mountain, she
+was soon climbing to the latter's summit.
+
+It was a beautiful spring day. The sunlight seemed new, and young,
+and very tender. The green of the trees was of that vivid hue which
+expresses hope to the young, and sadness to the aged. To the former it
+means a coming depth and maturity of joy; to the latter, the fresh,
+eager days of the past--bright, indeed, but mournful in their brevity.
+
+Minnie sat down upon a rustic seat, and gave herself up to one of those
+delicious day-dreams which lure the spirit as the mirage lures the
+traveller.
+
+She began to sing softly to herself--
+
+ "Thou'lt break my heart thou warbling bird,
+ That wantons through the flowering thorn;
+ Thou 'minds me o' departed joys,
+ Departed--never to return."
+
+Why those lines were suggested, and why her voice should falter in
+sadness, and why tears should spring to her eyes, she did not know. To
+some spirits the calm beauty of nature, and the warm air that breathes
+in balm and healing, express the deepest pathos. The contrast between
+the passion and suffering of life, and the calm assurance of unruffled
+joy which nature suggests, pierces the heart with an exquisite sadness.
+
+Poor Minnie, she sang the lines of "Bonnie, Doon," all unconscious that
+they would ever have any relation to her experience.
+
+But Minnie would bear her grief, and say, "God is love."
+
+She had never subscribed to a creed, and although Mill and Huxley were
+strangers to her, her whole nature protested against any system of which
+violence was one of the factors.
+
+Minnie was simply good. When she encountered suffering, and found that
+it was too great for human relief, she would whisper to her heart, "By
+and by." What by and by meant explained all to Minnie.
+
+We spend years upon the study of character, and the cardinal features
+often escape us. A dog has but to glance once into a human face. He
+comprehends goodness in a moment. The ownerless dogs of the village
+analyzed Minnie's nature, and found it satisfactory. They beamed upon
+her with looks of wistful love. She had them in the spring and summer
+for her daily escort to the mountain.
+
+That was a testimonial of fine ethical value.
+
+"Why, what am I dreaming about?" Minnie exclaimed, after she had sat for
+about an hour. "Why are my eyes wet? Why do I feel a sadness which I
+cannot define? Am I not happy? Isn't Donald coming to see me? Will we
+not be together again? Isn't the sun bright and warm, and our little
+home cheerful and happy? Fancies, dreams, and forebodings, away with
+you. I must run home and help mother to make that salad for dinner."
+
+The world wants not so much learned, as simple, modest, reverent women,
+to sweeten and redeem it!
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE BEGINNING OF THE TROUBLE.
+
+We will not afflict the reader with all the complexities of a dispute
+which for months exercised the Press, the people, and the Government of
+Lower Canada; which led to a terrible tragedy, and the invasion of a
+quiet country by an armed force which exercised powers of domiciliary
+visitation and arrest resorted to only under proclamation of martial
+law; and which, setting a price upon a man's head, resulted in an
+outlawry as romantic and adventurous as that of Sir Walter Scott's Rob
+Roy.
+
+Certain large features, necessary to the development of the story, will
+be recapitulated.
+
+Poverty has few alleviations. Where it exists at all it takes a
+malevolent delight in making its aspect as hideous as possible. Donald's
+father had got into difficulties. Donald had helped him more than
+once when he was in the West, and when he came home he advanced him a
+considerable sum. A time came when Donald wanted his money back. His
+father was unable to give it to him. There was a dispute between them.
+Recourse was had to a money-lender in Lake Megantic.
+
+The latter advanced a certain sum of money upon a note. In the
+transactions which occurred between Donald and the money-lender the
+former alleged over-reaching.
+
+An appeal was made to the law.
+
+In the Province of Quebec the law moves slowly. Its feet are shod with
+the heavy irons of circumlocution. It is very solemn, but its pomp is
+antiquated. It undertakes to deal with your cause when you have
+long outgrown the interest or the passion of the original source of
+contention. Time has healed the wound. You are living at peace with
+your whilom enemy. You have shaken him by the hand, and partaken of his
+hospitality.
+
+Then the law intervenes, and revives passions whose fires were almost
+out. Before Donald's case came on, he sold the farm to the money-lender.
+
+Donald claimed that the latter, in the transaction of a mortgage prior
+to the sale, and in the terms of the sale itself, had cheated him out of
+$900.
+
+The sale of the farm was made in a moment of angry impetuosity. Donald
+regretted the act, and wanted the sale cancelled upon terms which would
+settle his claim for the $900.
+
+The money-lender re-sold the farm to a French family named Duquette.
+
+Popular sympathy is not analytical. It grasps large features. It
+overlooks minutiæ.
+
+Donald had been wronged. He had been despoiled of his farm. His years of
+toil in the West had gone for nothing, for the money he had earned had
+been put into the land which was now occupied by a stranger. This was
+what the people said. The young men were loud in their expressions of
+sympathy. The older heads shook dubiously.
+
+"There would be trouble."
+
+"Donald had a determined look. Duquette made a mistake in taking the
+farm. The cowboys in the North-West held life rather cheap."
+
+So the old people said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A SHOT IN THE DARKNESS.
+
+The Duquettes took possession of the farm.
+
+They were quiet, inoffensive people.
+
+Donald had been seen moving about between Marsden and Lake Megantic
+wearing an air of disquietude.
+
+Something was impending. In a vague way the people felt that something
+sinister was going to happen.
+
+'Twas about midnight in the village of Marsden. Darkness enveloped it
+as a mourning garment. Painful effort, and strife, and sorrow were all
+forgotten in that deep sleep which, as the good Book says, is peculiarly
+sweet to the laboring man.
+
+The Duquettes had not yet retired to rest. Mrs. Duquette had been kept
+up by an ailing child. She was sitting with her little one on her knee.
+
+Suddenly there was a detonation and a crash of glass. A whizzing bullet
+lodged in the face of the clock above Mrs. Duquette's head. Who fired
+the shot? And what was the motive? Was it intended that the bullet
+should kill, or only alarm?
+
+Was it intended that the Duquettes should recognize the desirability of
+vacating the farm?
+
+Who fired the shot?
+
+Nothing was said openly about it; but the old people shook their heads,
+and hinted that cowboys, with pistols ostentatiously stuck in their
+belts, were not the most desirable residents of a quiet village like
+Marsden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+"BURNT A HOLE IN THE NIGHT."
+
+That shot in the darkness furnished a theme for endless gossip amongst
+the villagers. There was not much work done the next day. When the
+exercise of the faculties is limited to considerations associated with
+the rare occurrence of a wedding or a death, intellectual activity is
+not great. Abstract reasoning is unknown; but a new objective fact
+connected with the environment is seized upon with great avidity. That
+shot was felt to be ominous. Was it the prologue to the tragedy? There
+was to be something more than that shot.
+
+What was it?
+
+Would anything else happen, and when would it happen?
+
+The villagers were not kept long in suspense.
+
+A few nights afterwards there was a lurid glare in the sky.
+
+It was red, and sinister, and quivering.
+
+What could it mean?
+
+Was it a celestial portent which thus wrote itself upon the face of the
+heavens?
+
+The villagers assembled in alarm.
+
+"Why, it's Duquette's place on fire!"
+
+Yes, the homestead had been fired, and the conflagration made a red,
+ragged hole in the blackness of the night!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+SUSPICION FALLS UPON DONALD, AND A WARRANT IS ISSUED AGAINST HIM.
+
+This was the second act in the drama.
+
+The situations were strong and in bold relief. Would the interest deepen
+in dramatic accrument?
+
+Donald was generally suspected; but he had commenced to experience that
+sympathy which was to withstand all attempts of the Government to shake
+it--attempts which appealed alternately to fears and cupidity.
+
+There was no proof against him, but even those who, if there had been
+proof, would have condemned the act, would not put forth a hand to
+injure him.
+
+To understand the strength of the feeling of clannishness in this
+district one must reside amongst the people.
+
+Donald was suspected, as we have said, and a warrant was made out
+against him on the charge of arson.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+HE THOUGHT OF HIS WIFE AND FAMILY, AND HE RETURNED TO SHERBROOKE.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. A----."
+
+"Good morning, Mr. L----. A lovely morning."
+
+"Yes, indeed."
+
+"Are you going far?"
+
+"I am going to Marsden. By the way, have you seen Donald Morrison
+lately?"
+
+"I saw him yesterday. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Well, I may tell you that I have a warrant to arrest him on a charge of
+arson."
+
+Mr. L---- looked very thoughtful. "Do you know the kind of man you have
+to deal with?"
+
+"I have heard a good deal about him, especially since he returned from
+the West. But why do you ask?"
+
+"I don't know," said Mr. L----, "whether Donald set fire to the
+Duquette's place or not, but I know that his real or fancied wrongs have
+made him morose and irritable--aye, I will add, dangerous. You are a
+married man, Mr. A----?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You have a family?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Take my advice," said Mr. L---- impressively. "Don't try to execute
+this warrant. Go straight back to Sherbrooke."
+
+"But my duty," said Mr. A---- irresolutely.
+
+"Where could you find Morrison, anyway? And if you did find him, and
+attempted to execute the warrant, I tell you," said Mr. L--------,
+with great earnestness, "there would be bloodshed."
+
+Mr. A--------- thought a moment, held out his hand to Mr. L---------,
+and turned his face towards Sherbrooke.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE TRAGEDY.
+
+MACBETH--" I have done the deed. This is a sorry sight."
+
+James Warren was a stout, thick-set man, about forty years of age. He
+was an American by birth, but he had lived for many years in Compton
+County. It was said that he had made a good deal of money by smuggling
+goods into the States. He had the reputation of being a hard liver, and
+something of a braggart.
+
+Warren had been sworn in as a special constable to arrest Donald. Armed
+with the warrant, he had lounged round the village of Megantic watching
+his opportunity. He made loud boasts that he would take Morrison dead or
+alive. He pulled out a pistol. This gave emphasis to the threat. We
+have already said that Donald always went armed. Sometimes he carried a
+rifle: more generally a couple of six-shooters.
+
+Warren was in the hotel drinking. It was about noon on a beautiful day
+in June.
+
+One of the villagers rushed into the bar.
+
+"Here's Morrison coming down the street," he said, in a tone of
+excitement.
+
+"All right," said Warren, "this is my chance."
+
+"You daren't arrest him," a by-stander said.
+
+"Daren't I, by ----," he replied. "Here, give me a drink of whiskey."
+
+He quaffed the glass, and went out to the front. Donald was coming
+towards him. He saw Warren, and crossed to the other side to avoid him.
+
+Warren went over and intercepted him.
+
+"You've got to come with me," said Warren, pulling out the warrant.
+
+"Let me pass," Donald replied in firm, commanding tones, "I want to have
+nothing to do with you."
+
+"But, by ----, I have something to do with you," Warren angrily
+retorted. "You have got to come with me, dead or alive."
+
+"What do you mean?" Donald demanded, while his right hand sought his
+hip pocket.
+
+"I mean what I say," Warren replied, fast losing control over himself.
+Pulling out his revolver, he covered Donald, and commanded him to
+surrender.
+
+About a dozen people watched the scene in front of the hotel, chained to
+the spot with a species of horrible fascination.
+
+The moment that Donald saw Warren pull out his revolver, and cover
+him with it, he clenched his teeth with a deadly determination, and,
+whipping out his own weapon, and taking steady aim, he fired.
+
+Warren, with his pistol at full cock in his hand, fell back--dead!
+
+The bullet had entered the brain through the temple.
+
+Donald bent over him, saw that he was dead, and, muttering between his
+teeth, "It was either my life or his," walked down the street out of
+sight.
+
+Warren lay in a pool of blood, a ghastly spectacle. Some poor mother had
+once held this man to her breast, and shed tears of joy or sorrow over
+him!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+AFTERWARDS.
+
+The inquest was over. Donald Morrison was found guilty of having slain
+Warren. He walked abroad openly. No one attempted to interfere with him.
+After the natural horror at the deed had subsided, sympathy went out to
+Donald. He had slain a man. True. But it was in self-defence. Had not
+Warren been seen pointing the pistol at him? Even admitting that Warren
+had no intention to shoot, but only intended to intimidate Donald, how
+could the latter know that? Donald had killed a man in the assertion of
+the first law of nature--self-preservation.
+
+The people deplored the act. But they did not feel justified in handing
+Donald over to justice.
+
+The news of the terrible tragedy spread. The papers got hold of the
+story, and made the most of it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE BLOW FALLS.
+
+"Father, father, what is the matter? What ails you?"
+
+Mr. Minton had taken up the paper after breakfast. He had glanced
+carelessly down the columns.
+
+The editorials were dull, and the news meagre. Suddenly, he came across
+ a large heading--"DREADFUL TRAGEDY!"
+He read a few lines, and then uttered a cry of horror. He threw down the
+paper, and looked at Minnie. It was a look of anguish.
+
+Minnie reached forward for the paper. Her eye caught the fatal head
+line. By its suggestion of horror it provoked that hunger for details
+which, in its acute stage, becomes pruriency.
+
+This is what the eye, with a constantly augmenting expression of
+fearfulness, conveyed to the brain:--
+
+"DREADFUL TRAGEDY.--About mid-day yesterday one of the most fearful
+tragedies ever enacted in this province, indeed in Canada, took place
+in the village of Megantic. Our readers are familiar with the agrarian
+troubles in which Donald Morrison has been figuring for some time past.
+They have also been apprised that, upon the burning of Duquette's
+homestead, suspicion at once fell upon Donald. A warrant, charging him
+with arson, was sworn out against him, and a man named Warren undertook
+to execute it. It is alleged that the latter, armed with the warrant and
+a huge revolver, swaggered about Megantic for several days, boasting
+that he would take Morrison dead or alive. Be that as it may, the two
+men met yesterday outside the village hotel. The accounts of what
+followed are most conflicting. One of our reporters interviewed several
+witnesses of the scene, and the following statements, we believe, may be
+relied upon. Warren approached Morrison, and, in a loud tone of voice,
+told him that he had a warrant for him, and commanded him to surrender.
+The latter attempted to get past, and said he wanted to have nothing to
+do with him. With that Warren pulled out a pistol, and ordered Morrison
+to throw up his hands. Now, whether Morrison fully believed that Warren
+meant to shoot him, will never, of course, be known. That is the
+statement he made to our reporter with every appearance of earnestness,
+subsequent to the occurrence. At any rate, the moment that Warren's
+pistol appeared, Morrison whipped out his revolver, and shot him through
+the head. Warren fell backward, and died in a few minutes. The dreadful
+act has caused the utmost excitement throughout the country, whose
+annals, as far as serious crime is concerned, are stainless. A singular
+circumstance must be noted. There is not a single person who regards
+Morrison in the light of a murderer. The act is everywhere deplored, but
+Morrison's own statement, backed by several witnesses, that he committed
+the deed in self-defence, is as generally accepted, and the consequence
+is that every house is open to him, no man's back is turned upon him,
+and his friends still hold out to him the hand of fellowship. He is
+still at large, and likely to be so, as the county is without police,
+and strangers coming here would have no chance of arresting him. Indeed,
+Morrison, armed with a rifle and two revolvers, walks about Megantic
+and Marsden in broad daylight--perfectly safe from harm, as far as the
+people themselves are concerned. It is said the Provincial Government
+are about to take some steps in the matter."
+
+Minnie read this account through to the end. She seemed to grow stiff,
+and her eyes dilated with a nameless horror. She did not faint. That is
+a privilege reserved for the heroines of the Seaside Library. This is
+a very modest narrative of fact, and we could not afford so dramatic a
+luxury as that. Minnie was a hearty country girl, and oatmeal repudiates
+all affinity with hysterics.
+
+Minnie read the article, threw down the paper, and rushed to her room.
+She flung herself beside her bed. First of all, she didn't believe the
+story. It was a foul lie. "What! Donald Morrison kill a man! Donald, my
+lover, whom I have known since childhood--whose generous instincts I
+have so often admired! Donald Morrison to redden his hands with the
+blood of his fellow! Impossible, impossible! Oh, Donald, Donald," she
+cried wildly, "say it isn't true; say it isn't true!"
+
+She knelt over the bed, too deeply stricken for tears. After that
+passionate prayer for denial--a prayer which is constantly ascending
+from humanity, and which, asking for an assurance that the storm shall
+not ravish the rose of life, has in it perhaps at bottom something of
+selfishness--she remained motionless. She was thinking it out. It
+_was_ true Donald _had_ killed a man. The report could not lie so
+circumstantially. The place, and the date, and the details were given.
+The story was true, and Donald had taken a life. But then, had he
+committed murder? A thousand times, no! Warren had threatened to kill
+Donald. Warren _would_ have killed him. Donald defended himself; and
+if, in defending himself, he had taken a life, what then? Terrible--too
+terrible for words; but life was as sweet to Donald as it was to
+Warren. A moment later and he would have been the victim. He obeyed the
+fundamental law of nature.
+
+Thus Minnie tried to reason, but it brought no comfort to her. Her
+simple dream of love and modest happiness was over. She knew that. The
+beautiful vase of life was broken, and no art could mend it!
+
+When thought was in some degree restored, she sat down and wrote the
+following letter:--
+
+"Oh, Donald, Donald, what have I read in the papers? Is it true? Is it
+true?
+
+"Tell me all. Even if the truth be the very worst, do not fear that I
+shall reproach you. God forbid that I should sit in judgment upon you.
+Look to God. He can pardon the deepest guilt. My feelings are not
+changed toward you. I loved you when you were innocent, and I would not
+be worthy the name of woman if I were not faithful even in despair.
+Hasty you may have been, but I know that wickedness never had a lodgment
+in your heart.
+
+ 'Oh, what was love made for if 'tis not the same
+ Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame."
+
+"Your broken hearted
+
+"MINNIE."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+WHAT WAS DONALD ABOUT.
+
+When Mrs. Morrison learnt the dreadful news that Donald had shot Warren,
+the poor old woman was overwhelmed with despair. Donald himself broke
+the news to her. After satisfying himself that Warren was dead, he
+turned on his heel and went home to Marsden.
+
+"Mother," he said, with terrible calmness, when he entered the door,
+"I have killed Warren."
+
+Mrs. Morrison looked at him vaguely. She did not comprehend.
+
+"Warren wanted to arrest me this morning in Megantic, and because I
+refused to go with him he pulled out a pistol, as I thought, to shoot
+me. I fired at him. The shot killed him."
+
+Mrs. Morrison uttered a shriek. "Oh, Donald, my son, my son," she
+exclaimed, "what is this, what is this? Killed Warren! Oh, you must fly
+at once, or they will be after you!"
+
+"No, mother, I will not run. I will stay where I am. They can't arrest
+me. I can easily avoid all who are sent for that purpose. My friends
+will keep me informed of their doings. But, mother, whatever others say,
+I want you to believe that I never thought of harming a hair of Warren's
+head when he met me. I fired in self-defence. I deplore his death; but
+it was either he or I."
+
+"Oh, I believe you, Donald, and your poor mother," breaking into a
+violent fit of weeping, "your poor mother will never turn against you.
+But what will be the end? The officers must take you some time."
+
+"I don't know what the end will be," he said gloomily. "If I thought I
+would get a fair trial I might give myself up; but if I did so now they
+would hang me, I believe. I will wait and see, and the woods, with every
+inch of which I am familiar, will be my retreat, should the pursuit ever
+be dangerous."
+
+Donald's father took the news stoically. His nature was not emotional.
+The relations between father and son were strained. Little was said on
+either side.
+
+Donald walked about as usual. He had repeated to his immediate friends
+every circumstance of the tragedy. They fully believed him innocent of
+murder. This exoneration was of great value to him. From mouth to mouth
+the story spread that Donald fired in self-defence, and the latter found
+that all the faces he met were friendly faces.
+
+What he said to himself in his own room every night, he said to his
+friends--"I regret the deed. I had no thought of touching Warren. When I
+saw his pistol flash in front of me, I felt in a moment that my life was
+at stake. I obeyed an instinct, which prompted me to get the first shot
+to save myself. I could get back to the States, but I'll stay right
+here. Let them take me if they can."
+
+In vain his friends urged flight. He was inflexible on this point.
+
+So, as we have stated, he walked abroad in perfect safety. He carried
+his rifle and his two revolvers, and possibly, in some quarters, this
+rather suggestive display may, in _some_ degree, have accounted for the
+civility with which he was everywhere greeted.
+
+The county authorities had not moved against him. The Provincial
+Government had not as yet intervened. A price was not yet set upon
+his capture. He was free to go and come as he chose, and yet he moved
+amongst those who had seen him take the life of a fellow creature.
+
+Minnie's letter, addressed to his father's care, reached him. It moved
+him deeply. Since the tragedy he had frequently tried to write to her,
+but never found the courage.
+
+He recognized that all hope of future union with Minnie was now
+impossible. He had taken a life. At any moment the officers of the law
+might be on his track. His arrest might lead him to the scaffold.
+
+In his reply to Minnie, Donald described the tragic scene with which
+the reader is familiar, deplored the occurrence, but, with great
+earnestness, asked her to believe that he had acted only in
+self-defence. "I started out," he said, in one portion of his letter,
+"to go to church last Sunday evening. I had reached the door, when I
+thought--'Donald, you have broken a law of God!' and I had not the
+courage to go in."
+
+We quote this passage merely in confirmation of our statement that
+Donald felt perfectly free to go abroad after the tragedy, and to
+participate in the social life of the village.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+ACTION OF THE PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT.--FIVE OFFICERS SENT TO MEGANTIC.
+
+To the common mind government is something vast, mysterious, and
+powerful. It is associated with armies and navies, and an unlimited
+police force. There are a glittering sword, a ponderous mace, and an
+argus eye, that reaches to the remotest point of territory like a great
+big electric search light, in it.
+
+No man is a hero to his valet, and the nearer you get to the seat of
+power, the less does government impose upon the imagination. Those who
+read, with infinite respect, "that the Government has decided, after a
+protracted meeting of the Cabinet, to levy a tax upon terrier dogs for
+purposes of revenue," would be shocked to learn that government meant
+a small table, a bottle of wine, a few cigars, and two men not a whit
+above the mental or moral level of the ordinary citizen. Government
+imposes when you meet it in respectful capitals in the public prints,
+but when you get a glimpse of it in its shirt sleeves, _en famille_, or
+playing harlequin upon the top of a barrel at the hustings, or tickling
+the yokels with bits of cheap millinery and silk stockings, and reflect
+that you have paid homage to _that_, you begin to doubt the saving
+efficacy of the ballot box.
+
+Now, the Government of Quebec is neither a naval nor a military power.
+It doesn't want to fight, and if it did it hasn't got either the ships,
+or the men, or the money. The Sergeant-at-Arms in the Legislative
+Assembly is the only military person in its pay. It has not even a
+single policeman to assert the majesty of the law.
+
+The Government of Quebec is the Hon. Honoré Mercier.
+
+Mr. Mercier is like the first Napoleon. He chooses _tools_ to assist,
+not strong individualities to oppose, him.
+
+Party journalism in the Province of Quebec is peculiarly bitter and
+mendacious. The Press generally had made the most of the shooting of
+Warren. A month had elapsed, and no attempt had been made to arrest
+Morrison, who, it was alleged, swaggered through the country armed to
+the teeth, and threatening death to the man who should attempt to take
+him. It was generally agreed that this was a scandal. But the opposition
+journals made political capital out of the affair.
+
+"What! was this the Mercier Government? Was this the sort of law and
+order we were promised under his _régime_? Here was a criminal at large
+defying the law. Was Mr. Mercier afraid to arrest him, lest he might
+forfeit the Liberal votes of the county? It looked like it. Could Mr.
+Mercier not impress, for love or money, a single man in the Province to
+undertake the task of arresting Morrison? Or was Mr. Mercier so taken up
+with posing in that Gregory costume that he had no time to devote to the
+affairs of his country?"
+
+Mr. Mercier's reply to the party Press was to send down five special
+constables to Megantic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+TELLS HOW THE CONSTABLES ENJOYED THEMSELVES.
+
+ CAESAR--"Let me have men about me that are fat--
+ Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights."
+
+The five constables that Mr. Mercier sent down to Megantic put up in the
+village hotel.
+
+Within an hour Donald had received the following note:--
+
+"Dear Donald,--Action at last. Five men from Quebec after you. Keep away
+from Marsden for a day or so. I don't think there is much to fear.
+They would not know you, I believe, if they met you, and they are so
+frightened by the stories they have heard about you, that I don't
+believe they would dare to arrest you, even if they found you. However,
+as well be on the safe side. Go into the woods a little bit"
+
+The people soon knew that an attempt was to be made to arrest Donald.
+The young men gathered in the hotel round the constables, and told
+blood-curdling stories of his dare-devilism in the North-West. The
+constables were fat, phlegmatic, and anything but heroic. What they had
+been accustomed to was an unexciting and steady beat in the drowsy old
+city of Quebec, and small but unfailingly regular drinks of whiskey
+_blanc_. This duty was new. Worst of all, it was perilous. This
+Morrison--he might shoot at sight. True, they were armed with rifles and
+revolvers; but they had heard that he was a dead shot. Perhaps he
+might shoot first. That would, to say the least, be awkward, perhaps
+dangerous, perhaps even fatal. No, they had not much stomach for the
+work, and the people, perceiving this, encouraged their fears. In a very
+short time Donald became a combination of Italian brigand, Dick Turpin,
+and Wild West Cowboy, as these latter are depicted in the dime stories.
+
+Whenever, therefore, the officers took their walks abroad, they stepped
+very gingerly as they approached the village of Marsden. It never
+occurred to them to enter Donald's home. They might have found him
+half-a-dozen times a day. They never once crossed the threshold of the
+woods.
+
+Did not this terrible character know every tangled path, and might he
+not open fire upon them without being seen?
+
+The country roads are really white lines through the green of the woods.
+
+One morning the constables left the hotel, primed with a little whiskey.
+They took the road to Marsden. The woods skirted the narrow way on
+either side. The summer was now well advanced, and the foliage was so
+thick as to form an impenetrable lacery.
+
+"We have been here a month now," said the officer in charge, in French,
+"and we have accomplished nothing. I shall ask to be relieved at once.
+The people will not help us. How could we ever find a man in these
+woods? He might be here this moment," pointing to the trees at his
+right, "yet what chance would we have of taking him?"
+
+With one accord, the four subordinates answered "None."
+
+"Suppose he were here," and the officer halted on his step, how--What is
+that? Did you hear anything?"
+
+"Yes," said one of the constables timorously, "I heard a noise in the
+brushwood."
+
+"Suppose it were Morrison?"
+
+And they looked at each other apprehensively.
+
+"We will return," said the officer. "It is probably a bear. If I thought
+it were Morrison, I would enter the wood," he said valorously. When they
+were gone, a brown face peeped out. It was Donald. "They're scared," he
+said to himself, laughing. "Not much danger from _them_. I don't believe
+they would know me. I'll test it."
+
+He laid down his rifle at the foot of a tree, looked to his pistols, and
+walked rapidly in the direction the constables had taken. Overtaking
+them, he pushed his way through the brushwood, in advance of them, and
+then, at a bend in the road which hid him from view, he leaped out upon
+the road, turned, and met the party. He walked straight up to them,
+looked them in the eye, and passed on. They did not know him; or, if, as
+was alleged against them afterwards, they knew him, they were afraid to
+arrest him. The statement that Donald carried his audacity so far as to
+enter the hotel, and drink with them, he himself laughingly denied to
+his friends.
+
+The opposition papers jeered at the failure of the expedition. Ridicule
+is the most powerful of weapons. Man is not half so humorous as the dog
+or the elephant. With the latter it is an instinct. With the former it
+is an acquirement. Still, the perception of humor is fairly general.
+Don't argue with your opponent, Kill him with ridicule. Laughter is
+deadly. When the people laugh at a Government it can put its spare
+collar and shirt in its red handkerchief, and retire to the privacy of
+its family. Mr. Mercier is sensitive to ridicule.
+
+Mr. Mercier withdrew that expedition, and offered $3,000 reward for the
+capture of Morrison!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+PROOF AGAINST BRIBES!
+
+ "A man's a man for a' that."
+
+It was now that Donald was to prove that integrity which for ages has
+been so noble an attribute of the Highlander.
+
+To many of the villagers $3,000 would have been a fortune. But if Donald
+spent more of his time in the woods now than formerly, it was not that
+he doubted the honor of the poorest peasant in the county. He well knew
+that there was not a man or woman who would have accepted the reward if
+it were to save them from starvation. He had no fear on that score. He
+became more reserved in his movements, because his friends informed
+him that since the offer of the reward, several suspicious-looking
+individuals from Montreal, pretending to be commercial travellers, had
+been seen loitering in the village. He therefore drew farther into the
+woods, and avoided his father's house, either going to the houses of
+his friends for food, or having it brought to him. If danger seemed
+pressing, he passed the night in the woods, his rifle close to his side;
+but ordinarily, during this time he slept at the homes of his friends.
+The arrival of every stranger was known to him. Faithful friends noted
+down their description, and these notes either reached him at a given
+rendezvous in the woods, or at the houses where he passed the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE REWARD FAILS.
+
+Time passed on. Donald was still at large. The reward had failed.
+Private detectives from Montreal, who had remained in the district for
+weeks, returned in disgust, confessing that Morrison's capture was
+impossible so long as he had friends to inform him of every movement,
+and the woods to retreat to.
+
+At the police headquarters in Montreal various schemes were discussed.
+Chief Hughes was of opinion that thirty resolute men, skilfully
+directed, could accomplish the capture.
+
+It was now the fall, and if action were not speedily taken, the winter
+woods, filled with snow, would soon mock all effort of authority.
+
+The press kept up the public interest in the case. Morrison had been
+seen drinking at the hotel in Lake Megantic. He had attended a dance in
+Marsden. He had driven publicly with the Mayor of Gould, with his rifle
+slung from his shoulder. He went to church every Sunday, and he had
+taken the sacrament. All this according to the press. Did the Mercier
+Government, then, confess that it had abdicated its functions? Was this
+Scotland in the Seventeenth Century, and this Morrison a romantic Rob
+Roy, with a poetic halo round his picturesque head, or was it America
+in the Nineteenth, with the lightning express, the phonograph, and
+Pinkerton's bureau, and this criminal one of a vulgar type in whose
+crime sentiment had no place?
+
+Did the Government intend to allow this man to defy the law? If it did,
+was this not putting a premium upon crime? If it did not, what steps did
+it intend to take to secure his arrest? Thus far the newspapers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE GOVERNMENT TAKES OFF ITS COAT.
+
+The winter had passed. The first expedition had failed. The reward had
+failed, for the people, sincerely regretting the tragedy, and anxious
+that Donald should give himself up, scorned to betray the man who had
+trusted in their honor.
+
+Donald had spent the winter in comparative security. Anxiety had made
+him thin, but he was as firmly fixed as ever in his determination to
+hold out. He knew that as long as his friends remained faithful to him
+he could never be taken. His mind did not seem to travel beyond that.
+"He would never be taken." He was urged in vain to escape to the States.
+He was urged in vain to give himself up. To the promise that his friends
+would see that he received a fair trial, he would answer bitterly:
+"Promises are easy now because they have not to be kept. How would it be
+when, behind iron bars, and hope cut off, they _could_ not be kept?"
+
+
+
+Mr. Mercier felt that if the Government was not to suffer serious loss
+of _prestige_, it must adopt heroic measures.
+
+Mr. Mercier obtained from the city of Montreal the loan of fifteen
+picked men. He placed these in the immediate charge of High Constable
+Bissonnette. Major Dugas, a police magistrate, a skilled lawyer, and a
+gallant officer, who, in 1885, had promptly responded to the call of
+duty in the North-West, he placed in supreme command of this expedition,
+to which he said dramatically, "Arrest Morrison!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE HUNTED OUTLAW.
+
+The expedition arrived in Stornaway upon a raw morning in April.
+
+Donald knew all that could be learned within an hour.
+
+"I must be careful now," he said. "Well, if they can follow me through
+the woods on snowshoes, they're welcome to begin the pursuit."
+
+Major Dugas' capacity was largely magisterial. He had the supreme
+direction of the men, indeed, but the carrying out of the movements
+was to be entrusted to the High Constable. The men had been carefully
+chosen. They were armed with rifles and revolvers, and their orders were
+to shoot Morrison, if, when accosted, he should refuse to surrender.
+Major Dugas' plan was eminently politic. He first wanted to conciliate
+the people, and then induce them to bring such pressure upon Donald as
+would induce him to surrender upon being promised a fair trial. "This,"
+said the Major to the leading men of the place, with whom he placed
+himself in communication the first day of his arrival, "is the wisest
+way to end the affair. The Government is in earnest. Morrison must be
+arrested. No matter how long it takes, this must be accomplished. Let
+the people come to the assistance of the law, let them refuse to harbor
+Morrison, and the thing is done. But should they fail to do this, then,
+however disagreeable it may be to me, I must arrest all suspected of
+helping him in any way."
+
+At first the people were sullen. They resented the incursion of an armed
+force. Among the party was Sergeant Clarke, who brought his bagpipes
+with him. There may be some people who have a prejudice against the
+bagpipes. This proceeds from defective musical education. Sergeant
+Clarke's bagpipes proved a potent factor in securing the personal
+goodwill of the people. He played "Auld Scottish airs," and many of the
+old men, mellowed with whiskey, wept in the bar-room of the little hotel
+at Stornaway. The courtesy of Major Dugas, and the civil bearing of the
+men, told upon the people, but nevertheless they did not abate one jot
+of what they called their loyalty to Donald.
+
+The latter's best friends now saw there could only be one ending. Donald
+might not be taken alive. But he would be taken, alive or dead. That
+was clear. The Government could not now retreat. The expedition must be
+carried to a successful issue. Whatever hope there was for Donald if
+brought to trial now, there would be none if he shed more blood. But
+Donald was past reasoning with. These considerations, urged again and
+again, fell upon dull ears. "I am determined," he said, "to fight it
+out." He said this with firmly compressed lips. It was useless to
+persuade.
+
+The expedition was divided into three parties. To cordon the woods would
+have required an army. The points covered were Stornaway (Major Dugas'
+headquarters), Gould and Marsden. Photographs of the outlaw were
+obtained and distributed among the men. The roads were mud, and the
+woods filled with soft snow. Infinite difficulty was experienced at
+every turn. The men were not prepared for roughing it. They required
+long boots and snowshoes. They had neither. Detective Carpenter, indeed,
+essayed the "sifters," but he could make little progress, and he did not
+see the man whose name was upon every lip, and who had just declared to
+the enterprising reporter who had penetrated to his fastness, "that he
+would never be taken alive." The several parties contented themselves
+with scouring the roads, watching the railroad, and searching the houses
+of sympathizers. This continued for a week, night and day. There was no
+result. The men suffered great privations. But the duty was new, the
+adventure was exciting, and the element of peril lent spice to it. And
+then, was there not the consideration of $3,000? So, at Gould, and
+Stornaway the men made merry in the few hours' rest allotted to them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+DONALD IN THE WOODS OF MEGANTIC.
+
+This romantic region has been proudly termed the Switzerland of Canada.
+Its majestic hills--so grandly rugged--its placid lakes, and its
+dense and undulating forests lend an indescribable enchantment to the
+companion and lover of nature, who for the first time beholds their
+supreme beauty. The tree-topped hills in their altitude are at times
+lost in the clouds. The lumberman has not yet ventured to their summits.
+He contents himself with a house in a more convenient and safer spot.
+The monotony of the prevailing quietness around these spots is only
+broken by the tiny little stream as it meanders on its course to the
+bottom, where it refreshes the weary traveller who may perchance pass
+that way. Tableland there is none except little patches of less than
+an acre. The environments of this region are peculiarly suited to the
+nature and tastes of the settlers, who will tell you that they would not
+change them for all the gold you could offer. The means of access to the
+villages, away from the railway, are extremely poor. The roads--if they
+can be so called--offer little inducement to the tourist. The woods
+adapt themselves to the security of the fugitive at all times and during
+all seasons. In summer the verdant branches darken the surroundings,
+while in the winter months the drooping boughs, appealing in their
+solitude to nature, are sufficient in their loneliness to convince one
+that to penetrate into their midst is by no means a safe venture.
+
+Yet it was here that Donald spent his days and nights at this period.
+Did Donald hesitate whether his bed was to be on feathers or branches?
+No. His friends were always his first consideration, and did he for
+a moment think that by spending a night at a friend's cabin he would
+endanger their hospitality, he would quietly retire to the woods. His
+bed consisted of a few balsam branches spread rudely on the ground,
+with the overhanging boughs pulled down and by some means or other
+transformed into a bower. This as a means of protection. When the snow
+covered the ground to the depth of several feet, Donald did not change
+his couch, but he made the addition of a blanket, which, next to his
+firearms, he considered his greatest necessity. He slept well, excepting
+when he was awakened by the roar of a bear or some other wild animal.
+Then he simply mounted a tree, and with revolver cocked, awaited
+his would-be intruder. His life in the woods--so full of exciting
+events--was pleasant and safe. He never for a moment believed that he
+could be caught were he to remain hidden among the towering pines.
+Often--strong man as he was--would he allow his feelings to overcome him
+when thinking of the possibilities which he believed life might have
+had in store for him. The constant mental strain under which he found
+himself seemed to affect but lightly his keen sense of vivacity. Wearily
+did he pass some of his time amidst the verdancy of the woods. The sun
+often rose and set unheeded by the fugitive. When darkness set in he
+would furtively steal out to a friend's hut, where he would participate
+in the frugal supper, and afterwards engage in the family worship, which
+is never forgotten by the Highlanders.
+
+He was always welcome wherever he went. He had no fear of being
+betrayed. He knew his friends, and trusted them. Were he invited to
+share the couch of his host, he would first ascertain whether all was
+safe, and then stealthily enter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+SECOND WEEK OF THE SEARCH--MAJOR DUGAS BECOMES SEVERE.
+
+A week was gone. Donald had not been caught. Major Dugas' policy of
+conciliation had won personal regard. It had not caused the slightest
+wavering among Donald's friends. The very men to whom the Major talked
+every day knew his hiding-place, and could have placed their hands upon
+him at an hour's notice. They made no sign. Every fresh measure of the
+authorities was known to Donald, and during the first week--devoted,
+as we have said, to a rigorous search of the farmhouses likely to be
+visited by the fugitive--the police repeatedly reached his hiding-place
+only to find that the bird had just taken wing!
+
+Major Dugas was in his room at the Stornaway hotel. A severe look was
+in his eye. He had tried conciliation. That had failed. It was idle to
+expect any assistance from the people. The better sort--perhaps all of
+them--would have been glad if the fugitive had surrendered, but they
+were not going to help the authorities to induce him to do so. Very
+well. Then they, must be punished for conniving at his outlawry.
+
+High Constable Bissonnette entered for orders.
+
+"I have determined," said the Major, "to arrest all who may be suspected
+of harboring Morrison. This measure will probably bring the people
+to their senses. But for their help he must surrender. When that is
+removed, I am hopeful that we can take him without bloodshed. I will
+issue the necessary warrants, and I will hand them over to you for
+execution. The measure is a severe one, but the circumstances justify
+it."
+
+The High Constable looked ruefully at his clothing, torn and covered
+with mud. M. Bissonnette had ample energy. He entered upon the hunt with
+a light heart. He had not spared himself, and had even ventured into
+the wood without either long boots or snow-shoes. He was fatigued and
+dilapidated, but he had not caught Donald.
+
+"All right, your honor," said the High Constable, when the Major has
+signed a batch of warrants, "I will have these attended to at once."
+
+The High Constable was as good as his word.
+
+The prominent friends of Donald were arrested and conveyed to Sherbrooke
+Jail, bail being refused.
+
+Major Dugas had committed an error. This measure, undertaken with the
+proper motive of putting an end to the struggle by depriving the outlaw
+of all chance of help, was impolitic. It accomplished nothing. The men
+were arrested, but the women remained. The shelters still remained for
+the fugitive. A bitter feeling now grew in the common breast against
+the police--a feeling which the women, whose sympathies were with the
+outlaw, and who resented the arrest of their husbands, fathers, and
+brothers, did their utmost to encourage. The police found it hopeless to
+get a scrap of information. The common people even refused to fraternize
+with them in the evenings when they were gathered round the bar-room of
+the village hotel.
+
+During this second week the police made a great effort to locate the
+fugitive. There were constant rumors regarding his whereabouts. He had
+been seen at Gould. He had slept last night at his Father's house. He
+had been seen on the edge of the wood. He had been seen to board a train
+bound for Montreal. The Scotch delight in grim humor. These rumors
+reached the police at their meals, and there was a scramble for firearms
+and a rush for the wagons. They reached them at midnight, while they
+were dreaming of terrific encounters with murderous outlaws in the heart
+of the forest, and there was a wild rush into the darkness. A few of
+Donald's nearest friends, who had escaped arrest, and started the rumors
+to favor the movements of the outlaw, laughed sardonically at the labors
+they imposed upon the police.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+"MANY WATERS CANNOT QUENCH LOVE."
+
+ "Had we never loved sae kindly,
+ Had we never loved sae blindly,
+ Never met and never parted,
+ We had ne'er been broken-hearted."
+
+
+Ideal love does not ask conventional recognition. Love is not comfort,
+nor house, nor lands, nor the tame delights of use and wont. Love is
+sacrifice. Always ask love to pour out its gifts upon the altar of
+sacrifice. This is to make love divine. But fill the cup of love with
+comfort, and certainty, and calm days of ease, and you make it poor and
+cheap. The zest of love is uncertainty. When love has to breast the
+Hellespont it feels its most impassioned thrill. Let there be distance,
+and danger, and separation and tears in love. Let there be dull
+certainty, and custom stales its dearest delights.
+
+Love is worthiest when it asks no requital. Minnie knew that all was
+over. She received short notes from Donald from time to time, and the
+newspapers kept her informed of the progress of events. She clearly
+perceived that if Donald did not give himself up, one of the two things
+must happen--he would either be killed himself by the police, or he
+would kill one or more of his pursuers, with the certainty of being
+ultimately caught, and probably hung. In her letters she implored him to
+give himself up, and not further incense the Government, which was not
+disposed to be implacable. Finding all her entreaties unavailing, she
+determined to visit him. This was a bold resolution. It was carried out
+without hesitation. A more sophisticated nature would have asked--"Will
+this seem modest?" Modesty itself never asks such a question. Modesty is
+not conscious. There is no blush on its cheek. Minnie believed that if
+she could see Donald, she could persuade him to give himself up.
+
+We won't tell you what Minnie wore, nor how she got to Marsden, nor what
+fears she endured, lest the police, suspecting her as a stranger, should
+follow her, and discover Donald's whereabouts.
+
+Minnie reached Marsden in safety. It was in the afternoon.
+
+She had written a brief note to Donald, telling him that she was coming.
+
+The meeting took place in his father's house, the old people keeping
+guard, so as to be able to warn the fugitive should any stranger
+approach the house."
+
+"Donald!"
+
+"Minnie!"
+
+Then they shook hands.
+
+A mutual instinct caused them to shrink from endearments. Donald was
+brown, thin, and weary-looking. His pistols were in his pockets, and his
+rifle slung by his side. He had just come in from the woods.
+
+Minnie looked at him, and the calmness which she thought she had
+schooled herself to maintain deserted her. She burst into tears.
+
+"Oh! Donald, Donald," she cried, "why will you not end this? If you ever
+loved me, I beg of you to give yourself up, and stand your trial. Your
+friends will see that you get fair play. I never believed you guilty of
+murder. From what I can hear outside, nobody believes such a thing. That
+you should have taken a life is dreadful--dreadful! but that you took
+it in self-defence I fully believe. For God's sake, Donald, let the
+struggle end. You will be killed; or, carried away by passion, you may
+take another life, and then think of your terrible position. Can I move
+you? Once I could. I love you in this terrible hour as dearly as ever,
+and I would to God I could spare you what you must now suffer. But let
+me try to save you from yourself. Listen to reason. Give yourself up to
+Major Dugas. Your friends will procure the best legal advice, and who
+knows but that you may still have a future before you. Let me urge you,"
+and she went up to him, and laid her hand upon his arm, while the tears
+streamed down her cheeks.
+
+Donald took her hand, and kissed it. He was greatly moved. "I can't,
+Minnie," he said. "I can't do it. I would never get a fair trial. I feel
+it. No, once arrested, they would either keep me in jail for ever, or
+hang me. I have baffled them now for nearly a year, and I can baffle
+them still. They must give up at last."
+
+"But have you not heard," Minnie said, "that they are bringing on
+fifteen more men from Quebec?"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Donald, smiling sadly it seemed, "I am kept well
+informed, though they have arrested most of my friends. Let them bring
+on a hundred men. They can't take me without I'm betrayed."
+
+"And I saw in the papers," said Minnie, with a look of horror, "that if
+these failed, they would employ bloodhounds against you."
+
+Donald flushed. "I can't believe they would dare to do such a thing," he
+said. "Public opinion would not stand it. No, I'm not afraid of that."
+
+"Then, must my visit be in vain, Donald?" Minnie pleaded.
+
+"I may be acting unwisely, Minnie," Donald responded, "but I can't agree
+to give myself up. I feel that I must fight it out as I am doing. What
+the end will be God only knows. But I want you to forget me, Minnie.
+Forget me, and learn, by and by, to be happy in other companionships.
+You are young, and life is before you. I never thought we would end like
+this. But it must be. I can't recall what has happened. I am an outlaw.
+Perhaps the scaffold awaits me. Your love would have blessed my life. I
+suppose fate would not have it so."
+
+"Donald, Donald." It was the voice of his mother, who now came quickly
+in exclaiming, "they are coming towards the house; away to the bush;
+quick."
+
+Donald took Minnie's hand and wrung it hard. He bent down and kissed her
+forehead. "God bless you," he said--"farewell."
+
+Then he rushed out of the house, and disappeared from view in the woods.
+
+It was a party of five policemen, armed with rifles.
+
+They were too late!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+MAJOR DUGAS MEETS THE OUTLAW FACE TO FACE--A UNIQUE INTERVIEW.
+
+Minnie was right about the reinforcements, though the suggestion as to
+bloodhounds proved to be nothing but idle rumor. Fifteen men came
+from Quebec. The expedition numbered now thirty-five men. The search
+increased in rigor. The houses were visited day and night. The roads and
+the outskirts of the wood were watched almost constantly. Donald was not
+caught. He could not sleep in the houses of his friends, but he could
+make a bed in the woods. He could not venture to take a meal under a
+roof, but a neighbor woman could always manage to bring him a loaf of
+bread and a bottle of milk. The police visited his father's house, broke
+open his trunk, and took away all his letters, including poor Minnie's
+correspondence--an act which, when Donald knew of it, caused him to
+declare with an oath that if he met the man who did it, he would shoot
+him down like a dog.
+
+Major Dugas was disgusted. He had been in the district nearly three
+weeks. He had tried conciliation. That had failed. He had tried
+severity. That, too, had failed. He had increased the searching force.
+That, also, had availed nothing.
+
+When, therefore, three of Donald's firmest friends approached the Major
+with the proposition that he should order the suspension of operations
+while he held an interview with the outlaw, they found him not
+indisposed to listen to the extraordinary proposal. Donald was to be
+found, and his friends pledged their honor that he would meet the Major
+when and where he pleased, provided the latter would give his word that
+he would take no measures to arrest him.
+
+Major Dugas hesitated for a long time, but finally accepted the terms.
+He was severely blamed in the press for parleying with an outlaw.
+Whatever maybe said about the wisdom of the arrangement, in scrupulously
+observing the terms of it, Major Dugas acted like a gentleman and a man
+of honor. That he should be blamed for honoring his own pledged word
+proves how crude is the common code of ethics.
+
+Major Dugas ordered the suspension of operations. In the company
+of Donald's friends, he drove to Marsden; and there, in a rude log
+school-house, he was introduced to the famous outlaw.
+
+"You are alone, Major Dugas," Donald said suspiciously, keeping his
+hands upon his pistols.
+
+"Quite alone," the Major replied. "I have acceded to the wish of your
+friends, in order to avert the possibility of bloodshed. Now, Morrison,
+I ask you to surrender like a sensible man. Your capture is only a
+matter of time. The Government must vindicate the law, no matter at what
+cost. Give yourself up, and I will do what in me lies to see that you
+get the utmost fair play in your trial. I speak to you now in a friendly
+way. I have no personal feeling in the matter. I am the instrument of
+the law. If this pursuit is continued, there will probably be bloodshed
+either on one side or the other. You are only making your position
+worse by holding out; and think what it will be if there is any more
+shooting."
+
+"The Major speaks reasonably, Donald," Morrison's friends said, "for
+God's sake, take his advice."
+
+"Can the Major give me the $900 of which I have been defrauded, to help
+me to conduct my defence?" Donald asked.
+
+"I have nothing to do with your money matters whatever," the Major
+replied. "I can make no terms with you of that nature. I am here to urge
+your surrender on the grounds of prudence, for the sake of your own
+interests."
+
+"It was very kind of you, Major, to grant this interview," the outlaw
+said, "but I can't surrender unless you can give me some promise, either
+of money or an acquittal."
+
+"Oh, this is absurd," the Major said. "Our interview ends. Within six
+hours the pursuit will be recommenced. My last word to you, Morrison,
+is, don't make your case hopeless by shooting any more."
+
+"I will take your advice, Major. I give you my word," Donald replied.
+
+"Well, good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye, sir."
+
+Thus ended the memorable interview.
+
+Major Dugas drove back to Stornaway in disgust. He ordered the
+resumption of the search, and upon the following morning left for
+Montreal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+THE EXPEDITION IS BROKEN UP.
+
+Donald's friends were greatly disappointed. They fully expected that he
+would surrender himself to Major Dugas.
+
+A few days subsequent to the interview it was announced that the
+expedition had been broken up. The Government had recalled all the men
+but five, who were left in charge of Detective Carpenter.
+
+There was a tacit confession of failure.
+
+The opposition press burst into a loud guffaw. "Was this the result of
+a year's effort to capture a criminal? Was this the return for all the
+expenditure which had been incurred?" The comic papers poked outrageous
+fun at the expedition. The illustrated journals mocked it in pen and ink
+sketches that smarted like aquafortis. The ribald versifiers flouted it
+in metrical lampoons whose burden was--"The man I left behind me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+CARPENTER ON THE SCENT--A NARROW ESCAPE.
+
+Carpenter had five men at his disposal, and he was sanguine that an
+unremitting pursuit must end in the capture of the outlaw. Consequently,
+upon the removal of the bulk of the expedition, he set himself to make
+such disposition of his men as would lead to the most substantial
+results. Where did Donald get his food? Where did he get changes of
+clothing? He _must_ pay visits to the houses in the neighborhood. They
+had been searched in vain. Very well. Let them be searched again. Let
+them be persistently watched. The outlaw would be tracked at last.
+
+It was about ten o'clock at night. Dark, heavy clouds hung overhead like
+a mournful pall. A brooding darkness and silence enveloped the woods.
+
+A figure parted the young branches, came out into the open, ran
+stealthily along the road, reached a small cottage, and disappeared
+within it.
+
+Donald had tempted fate at a moment when fate, in the form of two eager
+officers of the law, was closing him in.
+
+McMahon and the Indian scout were out that night. They had made a round
+of the cottages. Fatigued and a little dispirited, they were about to go
+back to their quarters, when a feeble glimmer of light was seen through
+the darkness, proceeding from the cottage which Donald had entered.
+
+"Is it worth while to search it?" McMahon asked his companion
+doubtfully.
+
+"Well," replied the scout, "we may as well take it in to wind up for the
+night. I don't suppose we'll have any luck."
+
+"Not likely," McMahon said. Donald was eating a little plain supper,
+when the poor honest peasant woman whose hospitality he was sharing,
+thought she heard footsteps outside the door. She listened. "Donald," she
+said, in a quick, sharp voice, "I hear footsteps. They are approaching
+the door. It may be the police. What will you do?"
+
+"I don't think they're about so late," Donald replied carelessly,
+feeling nevertheless for his pistols in his pockets.
+
+"Donald, they're coming. It's the police. I'm sure of it. My God, if
+you should be taken. Here, quick! come into this bedroom, and lie quiet
+under the bed."
+
+Donald sprang from his seat and did as he was directed. He was not a
+moment too soon.
+
+The police knocked smartly at the door.
+
+The woman opened it.
+
+"Have you got Morrison here?" McMahon asked.
+
+"Look and see," the woman replied.
+
+The two men searched the four rooms of the small house, and then they
+sat down upon the bed beneath which, close to the wall, Donald was
+concealed!
+
+"There's no use in stopping here," Leroyer said.
+
+"No," replied McMahon, "we may as well go." As he spoke he carelessly
+ran the butt end of his rifle under the bed!
+
+Donald grew to the wall, and held his breath!
+
+The rifle conveyed no sense of contact. It was thrust in without
+conscious motive.
+
+The police took their departure.
+
+"What a narrow escape!" Donald said, when he had emerged from his
+hiding-place. His face showed pale beneath the bronze. The perspiration
+stood in beads upon his brow.
+
+The friendly creature who sheltered him trembled like an aspen.
+
+She had expected discovery, arrest, perhaps even bloodshed. She felt all
+a woman's exaggerated horror of police, and law, and violence.
+
+"Forgive me," Donald said, "for coming near the house. I'll not trouble
+you again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+ANOTHER TRUCE ASKED FOR.
+
+The friends of the outlaw made a last effort to bring about an
+accommodation. A noted lawyer in Toronto had been written to, and had
+offered to defend him. They went to Donald, showed him the letter, and
+peremptorily insisted that he should give himself up, or be content to
+have all his friends desert him.
+
+Perhaps the outlaw realized at last how severely he had tried his
+friends' patience.
+
+"Very well," he said, "I agree to give myself up. Tell the police, and
+get them to suspend operations. Come back here and let me know what they
+say."
+
+Detective Carpenter was seen, and the situation explained to him.
+
+"Well," said he, "I don't believe in truces with outlaws. This thing has
+lasted long enough. But if you can rely upon this new attitude of the
+outlaw's, I would not be averse to a short suspension, though, if my men
+meet him before your next interview, they will certainly do their best
+to capture him."
+
+Carpenter had placed two men--McMahon and Pete Leroyer (an Indian
+scout)--close to the outlaw's home, and told them to watch for him
+entering, and capture him at all hazards.
+
+Carpenter knew that Donald must get his changes of clothing at his
+father's, and that a strict watch would sooner or later be rewarded.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+SHOTS IN THE DARKNESS--DONALD IS CAPTURED.
+
+It was about eight o'clock on Sunday evening. McMahon and Leroyer had
+watched all through Saturday night and all through Sunday close to the
+house, hidden from view in the bush. They were wetted through with the
+snow; they were cold and hungry.
+
+In the gathering darkness two men passed them, knocked at the cottage
+door and entered.
+
+"Did you see who they were?" McMahon asked.
+
+"No," said his companion. "But see! they have lit the lamp; I'll creep
+forward and look through."
+
+The scout crept towards the window on his hands and knees. He was as
+lithe and stealthy as a panther. He raised his head and looked in.
+"My God, it's Morrison," he said to himself, as he crept back to his
+companion.
+
+"It's Morrison," he said in an eager whisper. "I saw him sitting on a
+chair, talking to his mother. We have him when he comes out. How'll we
+take him?"
+
+"We must call upon him to surrender, and if he refuses we must fire so
+as to lame, but not to hurt him."
+
+At the moment that the glowing eyes of the scout looked in through the
+window, Donald was sitting on a chair in the middle of the floor talking
+to his mother, who was filling a bottle of milk for him.
+
+"I'm to meet M---- in the morning in the woods, and then I'm going to
+surrender. The police by this time know my intention."
+
+"You have acted wisely, Donald," his mother said. "We will all see that
+you get a fair trial. My poor hunted boy, what have you suffered during
+the past twelve months. Anything would be better than this. You are
+liable to be caught at any moment--perhaps shot."
+
+"Have no fear, mother, on that score. I hope I am acting for the best in
+giving myself up."
+
+"I'm sure you are, Donald. Here's your bottle of milk and your blanket."
+
+"I don't know what may happen before we meet again, mother. Good-bye,"
+and he bent down and kissed her withered face.
+
+He opened the door, and went out into the darkness. "Throw up your
+hands," a ringing voice exclaimed.
+
+"My God, I'm betrayed at last," Donald muttered, as he leaped the fence
+close to the house, and made a straight line for the woods.
+
+McMahon and the scout leaped from their concealment, followed hard upon
+the fugitive, and fired repeatedly at him from their revolvers.
+
+Could he escape?
+
+He had fronted worse perils than this. Would fortune still smile upon
+him, or, deserting him in the moment of supreme need, leave him to
+destiny? The darkness favored him. The dense woods were near. Would he
+be able to reach them in safety?
+
+McMahon and Leroyer, by simply going up to the door, and grasping the
+outlaw firmly the moment he came out, might have made the capture in a
+perfectly certain though commonplace manner. Both might be forgiven,
+however, for a little nervousness and excitement. The prize was within
+their grasp. For this moment they had lain out in the snow, wet and
+hungry. Brought suddenly face to face with the moment, the moment was a
+little too big for them. Neither of the pursuers aimed very steadily.
+They grasped their revolvers, and made red punctures in the night.
+
+What was that? A cry of pain.
+
+The pursuers came up, and saw a figure totter and fall at their feet.
+
+"You have caught me at last," Donald said; "but had the truce been kept,
+you never could have taken me."
+
+The outlaw was wrapped in blankets and conveyed to Sherbrooke prison,
+and the following morning the papers announced all over the Dominion
+that "Donald Morrison, the famous outlaw, who had defied every effort of
+the Government for twelve months, had been captured, after having been
+severely wounded in the hip by a revolver shot."
+
+In the jail Donald said--"I was taken by treachery."
+
+But the outlaw had been secured!
+
+
+
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+It was dreadfully unromantic, but Minnie did not fall into a decline.
+She is alive and well at this moment. Life may be over, and yet we may
+live functionally through long stagnant years. Life is not a calendar
+of dates, but of feelings. Minnie will live a calm, chastened life. She
+cannot love again; but she is not soured by her experience. She will be
+one of those rare old maids who are so sweet and wholesome that even
+youth, hot and impatient, tenders cordial homage to them.
+
+Minnie braves her sorrow bravely. To look at her one would not suspect
+that she had ever passed through deep suffering. Disappointment and
+loss either curl the lips in bitter cynicism, or give them so soft, so
+gracious, so touching an expression, as make their caress, falling upon
+the wretched and forsaken, a benediction. When suffering steels the
+heart, and poises the nature in an attitude of silent scorn for the
+worst affront of fortune, it is fatal. It takes the life simply. That is
+all. When it melts the heart, pity finds a soft place, and the ministry
+of sorrow becomes, not a phrase, but an experience. Very few know
+Minnie's secret. Her parents never mention the name of Donald Morrison.
+She quietly goes about her modest duties, and the few poor old people in
+the village left desolate in their old age, when the shadows lengthen,
+and, the gloom of the long night is gathering, find that she has
+
+ "A tear for pity,
+ And a hand open as day for melting charity."
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Outlaw, by Anonymous
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED OUTLAW ***
+
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