THE SON OF HIS FATHER.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXIX, Issue 10760, 6 May 1911, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE SON OF HIS FATHER.

(By Marie Conway Ocinler.)

in a secret and beautiful hollow ot' the foothills, where the creek dashed its clear cold waters fiver many-colored stones and boulder?, and the balsamsweet breath of the mountains rolled downward in delicate waves of perfume, the Fathers had built for the Mother of Christ a iittle shrine, where one came to repose, to meditate and to pray. Mere in the evenings came blackrobed Fathers, young shy novices walking two and two. quiet-eyed Sisters with averted faces, and blanketed Indians whose guttural prayers were as the howling homage o! wolves to the Montana moon. And here more otten than any came -lean-Marie with Matthias, llis companion novice; one, because its quiet beauty reminded liini of his country, of far fair France; and the other, because no spot in the Ncrtli-west wns so.beloved of bugs, of beetles, of butterllies, of ants and spiders. When old Father dAstigny, Director of Novices, made big braV-e Jean-Marie companion and cell nlate to delicate, slim-legged Matthias, ho chuckled happily tohimself at his acumen in thus making extremes serve and complement each other.

■ Father d'Astigny adored Jean-Marie, beautiful, naive, of- a simple wisdom" and. a homely wit which had : upon it .tlio tang of- fresh fields. ..Also he despised and pitied Matthias, called by the Indian converts the "Bugnuuter," for him lie considered delicate of body and of iutelleit. But JS&n-Marie '"He is of an activity tireless, that one!" he confided to the Superior General. "Not so bright at his books, one will say; but sweet-tempered, and of a strongness even as Samson -the son of Manoah! What a missionary for our Indians! Truly, France enriched us who received, from her this young man! And the. heart of Jean-Marie, my Father, that, heart is even as a. child's, of-a. joyousness delightsome to me • who- am old. You will recall it was told us that his mother who gave him ; when young, to the church, was a, saint, and he is her son." ' "H'm!" murmured the Superior General of the North-west, with' his shrewd smile. "And the father of him, my good friend, the father? Tell me, was not this father a Chasseur d'Afrique? They are not noted for godliness, those Chasseurs!" • "But they die for God and France, | in arms against the infidel,"' said the stout old priest, a fiery gleam in. his. faded eyes. . "H'm!" his Superior mused again. "Saint and Chasseur d'Afrique! Truly, that is a heritage for one! Well, we will see if he be heir to his blood, this hulking novice." "And in the • meantime, his strength supports the weakness of that simple Matthias, to whom God send sense! for he sorely , needs it. The condition of the clothes of Matthias after that he has crawled, even as the serpent, upon his stomach!" The old man held up his hands, unable to find further utterance. . "Matthias is already a most excellent and critical naturalist," said the Superior General thoughtfully. "He recently showed me some papers upon the ant which astonished me." "Pooli!" said old Father d'Astigny, with 'a gesture of abhorrence. "A miserable and evil-natured beast, the ant, full of malice and meanness. Ask but this genius of yours to remove from us this little stinging emissary of Satan, and for his reward I will say many masses. Papers on the ant, mon Dieu. The Superior General said, still thoughtful: "He will be a credit to tno Order. Give chance to pursue his nature studies, Father. And if vou think Jean-Marie helps .him, well, let Jean-Marie .accompany him. Thus Jean-Marie, amiable as great strength is apt. to be, labored with Matthias the Bug-liunter. If it pleased the good God to allow the bram of one of His higher creatures to become infatuated with the biting bug> the stinging ant, the horrible spider, and the squashy caterpillar, why he, JeanMarie, had nothing to say about it, his duty ' was to help find those creeping nightmares which were as gold to tile heart of Matthias. Jean-Marie was aware that this occupation allowed him greater freedom, for Matthias, given a new specimen, immediately doubled himself into a crouching knot-, turned that little bug over and over, glared at it through his pocket microscope, became immersed, absorbed, lost to any world outside of its biting jaws, its kicking legs, its quivering antennae- One could t-lien wander far afield, after a. while to return and seize Matthias by his collar band and black belt, and insist gently but peremptorily that he arise and come home. • ~ . TTsuallv thev lunched at the bhrine, Matthias' stamping ground, but upon a clear cool day in the long vacation, Jean-Marie, from whom Matthias had abruptlv fled, found that place already occupied. . . , A slender young girl in a bright red dress, with a plaid band tied around her supple waist, knelt before the \ lr-n-in a rosary between her clasped hands. Her dark rapt face was uplifted toward the statue—a face black-browed, redlipped, to which her large brilliant eyes lent fire and passion, feeling and tenderness. Two blue-black braids swept, the floor, touching lier little moccasineu feet, and in the sunlight the amber beads around her throat flashed. At the sound of his step she turned with cat-like grace and saw Jean-Marie looking clown upon her, radiant, in unstained youth, rosy-faced from wind and sun, his shapeless black gown unable to conceal his fine virility. _ They looked at each other innocently, boy and girl. The boy smiled. He forgot those warnings, finger posts along the Road of Sanctity, against the wiles of women. What wile might be in a maiden praying to Mary ? The girl, with shy deference, moved aside for the young Father, but he shook hia head. "But no, mv child. I will not disturb you See, these flowers I found awhile since. Take them, you, and present them to Madame the Virgin with the compliments of me, a sinner. Is it often that you come to make prayers with her?" .. ~ "It is very pleasant here, said the voung girl shyly- "Our Lady is peaceful and scolds not, as one's grandmother does; nor docs she answer with with blows. Therefore I seek her ofte;i, my good Father." , "You do well," approved JeanMarie, with a young assumption of Father d'Astigny's benignant paternal manner. He added, with a charming smile: "Continue to pray, my child. It is,-I have been told, necessary that womtti should pray much and often, poor bringers of sorrow !" Then with trunk curiosity, as one child to another, lie asked: '.'And you aro who, "Aimee, daughter of Baptiste, the French hunter, granddaughter of Red Skv, the Chief, and Nehushta, his wife," she answered with a proper Pr "Me. I am Jean-Marie, bodyguard of Matthias, the Bughunter," he told her airilv, delighted to have some one to talk to humanly, some one who did not answer with grunt's, like the pig, and who was not at the same time pawing a fistful of grubs. "He who fled but a little while since into the bushes, as if fiends were after him, is Matthias. He hunts the little butterfly. catching him in a net even, as tno devil might catch us in the net of sin. AH this past week he is after one butterfly, which wisely eludes; him,_ a golden insect which he hunts by day and" mourns by night. My legs Aro weary wandering after liirn; therefore I sit here and await his return." The young girl looked thoughtful. "There are many butterflies farther up the mountains," she said timidly. "Me, j I have loved them since I was but a tiny child—they seemed to know me, once," she added, as if to herself. "There was one. a great and beautiful one, which appears but seldom, and him I loved best of all. I thought him a spirit. For his wings are oi gold, and when he drifts in the lireeZe one sees them quiver and open like a flower, a golden ' flower with purpb- eyes." "'lt is lie!" cried .lean-Marie, jumping to his feet i".viully. "My good | < liild. v..:;- word i • a . water to the j perishing Matthias. Wait. I beseech | von. until he return--, and explain to j iiim thai you al-o have seen, that you I know this crafty little creature. Do j so, and we will both pray that you may | become a holy virgin before the Lord!" I •"Hut I don't wish to be a holy virgin before anybody!" protested the girl. Somewhat abashed, he opened his blue eyes wide, staring at her. "Not > so?" he murmured. "What, then, | shall w? pray for you. Mademoiselle?'-' •

"I wish but to be happy," she said, hanging her head. "1 will stay, as you ask, Father. 1 have finished my pra vers." •'Sit, then, on the steps." said the subdued ,Ican-Marie. "And tell me where this wonderful butterfly tarries." With relief he hailed the bo.x-and-net-ciicumbered figure which just then »p----p< ared thiougii the trees. '"Matthias! Thy butterfly, Matildas! Behold, the pestilent insect is found!" He waved his hand at Aiinec. . , It appeared, in response to Matthias hurtling hail of questions, that she knew , the rare and shy stranger whom lie sought. She knew, indeed, the secretest path upon the •mountains,- the deepest hollow' of the hills, the loiiesomest glades of the woods, and the wild-things-were : to her as'kindred. To . these- site " would : guide' 1 Matthias —and Jean-Marie.' ' •Neitter 'of the. Vdiing men mentioned at honie their meeting 1 with Aimeo; Jean-Marie from- a; shy dislike to' name her,- Matthias because he wished a guide and' he knew'quite'well lie would bo forbidden if' Father d'-Astigny knew that ; that guide was a beautiful young girl. More and more : he wished to guard against this becoming known, for dns collection • began- ! to grow . -valuable, greatly ' 'delighting ' the' unsuspicious Superior General.. Her store of-folktales, ;of quaint lore, of old traditibiisr delighted JeaU'-Marie as well as Matthias, and when at times they rested at the foot of'some verierable pine, the young men' listened to her as men of old listened to those shy spirit • children "of the Red Gods whispering their ancient wisdom. ■ • _ And as if each were, a magnet drawing- the : other, the blue eyes'of Jean- - r the • browri 1 eyes of Aimee, sought and smiled into each other; it see.med to Jean-Mario that ho lpoked into pools ofw-bodrand -watei'' -sucli as Adam drank from in Eden; and 1 -Aimee thought his' the clear blue of heaven. Matthias, darting hither and thither . like a lizard; often: Mtf his ; companions j to follow him lis best they "might. - Flying after him one morning, Aimee stumbled over'a projecting root to be caught in the great l -arms -'of • JeaiiMarie. ■ For a second wlncli seerned; eternity he held her; lithe and pliant, against his side; and the- contour of her body, the, young beautiful ; body of a maiden, dawned upon, him as- with a rush of blinding light." . ' Hisarms, releasing • her, dropped heavily to his sides, ,-attd tliG'young girl averted her eyes, a~.blush staining her brow. Silently, all at oiice far apart, they followed Matthias', trampled-trail; afraid to speak, to look;'afraid of each other, of themselves, of life, of.love, .of God; yet each thrillingly. conscious of' the other's presence unci of an exquisite and painful-joy. ' \ ' After that morning -'Aimee . was ' less often with .them. Matthias grumbled, but Jeaii-Marie, over whom a -subtle change had come,.-was-,silent and abstracted; conscious of si-great .loneliness, of a galling sadness; he- sensed something new and menacing approaching, which threatened to sweep him, willynilly, ont of the ordered course'of his trained and systematic existence. For a whole week she had bailed to appear, as if she had deliberately deserted them, and in. unendurable restlessless he prowled through the woods after Matthias. He wished' to shout aloud to her, to command her to appear that he might look upon her passionate face and her blue-black hair, her eyes of light, her lips of 16ve. He wished to hear her speak to him in that.low voice of hers which was like the evening wind in the firs. Then' he wept, beating his broad breast, praying before the Virgin until her passionless, smiling face angered him; for it seemed to look upou him and his youthful sorrow as inscrutably as eternity looks upon time. Unanswered, lie fled again to the- forest, which received him as in a mother's Huddled against a tree, his head almost upon his knees, he gave way to the unrest which consumed him. Aimee, seeking the same forest shelter, came across him sitting tliiis, and paused beside him. "What is it?" she asked breathlessly, her hand to her heart. "Is it that you, too, must grieve, that also to -you tears must come?" . ' He lifted'his woeful face, staring almost stupidly at the desire of his dreams standing beside him in reality. Profoundlv moved, two large tears escaped him, rolling down his brown cheeks. Aimee looked at those tears with horror. ' "Oh!" she cried, spreading out her hands protestiligly. "You you, must weep? Alas, my God! I had thought this a good, a happy, a joyous wo rid, I who could live and laugh in it! And now I weep; day and night T make sorrow. Not yet enough, I see him weep, he so good, so kind, so beautiful! Oil, my God,'behold me, the unhappy, the wretched one!" And she began to sob unrestrainedly.

As a father draws to him a young child, a tender brother a little grieving sister, the young man drew her closer/ until her head rested upon his knees; lightly, caressingly, his hand fell upon her dark hair. A beautiful tenderness toward her welled up in his unworldly heart. . "I know not what is the matter with, me," breathed Aimee from Jiis knee. "It is not even that my father says I shall now marry. Andre; he-who- is son to the storekeeper at the-station. A long time since I knew this, and I was not afraid —much. I could still -be happy—perhaps because it- was./yet far off, that marrying of me. .'But now, that it- is near, ; 1 say with myself, I will not do this thing'. I know I will not do this thing, and still am I._miserable. I am as one that flees be'fore a wandering spirit, a cruel spirit .which torments me grievously, which ..drives me forth without rest; i I; know'not what I seek, but oh,- I know -I am most unhappy!" J - . Jean-Marie sat bolt upright; white lipped, a horror as of great darkness upon him. Her words roared in his ears. Marry her tovAndre! Give her, the pure, the the beautiful, to that stupid and loutish young man of the greedy eye and the lank red hair! - Surely, that were a monstrous thing to do. God would not permit it! "No!" lie cried violently, and ! :shook her.' "I know not of marriage and of marrying—I who am to- be: —a priest. But I know that this thing you-,speak of is villainous, that it must not be. You —you —Aimee! You will not love this Andre?" His voice, full of agony, implored her. Aimee- looked upward for-a fleeting second, with drowned eyes in .which 'a live light struggled. A wan, tremulous smile flickered over her. lips. Then she hid her face against his knee .and was silent. Biit a sweet peace stole into the young man's heart. . "Well," lie said soothingly, with an unconscious note of triumph. "You love not this Andre, you will think no more of this so sinful marriage, and you will come back and catch butterflies. with me and our good -Matthias, who has missed you so much: Will yon not?"

"My" grandmother complains of my absences, and threatens -to tell my father; she thinks I should stay home and—talk a little with Andre. And Andre, lie makes much - complaints, also." '•

- The momentary gleam of pleasure faded from Jean-Marie's face, leaving it again'pale and sorrowful. 'His lips drooped. "Me, I am perhaps driven also-by that spirit you. spoke of," . lie murmured. "For I also am of a great sorrowfulness, of a desolateness_uvtbearable, and which flies not even before my many prayers. It is, perhaps, that we are cold toward Him, and God for a space abandons us. Let us, then, make prayers together now." As she knelt -beside him her eyes, passionately wistful. were upon his clenn-cut profile: his were upon the high pale skies visible above the trees. Hi* vrii-e broke over tho touching plaint of "exiles, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.'' For suddenly lie remembered France. bis mother's grave, his peaceful laborious life in the monastery, free of this burning unrost. Alas! whither was he drill. -

"Go home now to Xehushta. little one. Sneak also with kindness to The miserable Andre, but make known to him thou art not for him. For me. 1 will pray much, and it ninybe when we hunt again with Matthias I will l ave a better word for thee."

'•I will come —to-morrow." she .-greed submissively. Was it not for her to come and go at the biddii.g of.him. the magnificent ? She would have gone

dumbly to her death at but a word.. More, if he had but said so, she would have even agreed to obey her father and marry the abhorred Andre. When the light shape vanished through the trees. Jean-Marie soughtMatthias, placidly mooning at the shrine.

"The granddaughter o! Xehushtn. will guide us to-morrow,", lie said to tlic Bughunter, for whom lie ielt a sudden unreasoning pity. Hon Dieu, was one to care for nothing, but the often malodorous bug, the dried weed! This poor Matthias! ~ ~ The. Bughunter looked up guiltily, a flush in his thin clieek. ' ; "Jean-Marie, I—I —" he liesitatiiiglv. Should lie tell this good, stupid friend -that already some, one had secretly whispered that silent disap-proval-sat upon the, brow of . Father d'Astigriy? , A vision of a butterfly which' opened in .- tlie breeze. quivering wsngs like a golden flower wltiv purple eyes, closed his lips. "He needed the gild iihtil'lie: liad found what he sought. '"1 rejoice to hear it," he said deliberately, but he averted his'eyes; he would; do a penancey -later, lie reflected, alter lie had secured.the. prize. A pale and quiet Aimee met them the next morning. Baptiste. had returned, slie told Jean-Marie. Ho. hau been drinking lieavilv. He was full of vague threats and wicked accusations. Andre had talked with him, and Baptiste was of a crossness,- art evil temper unimaginable. She "had 1 left him quarrelling with old Nehushta, and had fled out-to the dear woods, and to him, the good Father Jean-Marie, for comfort and'protection. ' Toward nooii they returned to _tlie shrine, Aimee to kneel before the Virgin, for whom she had brought an armful of mountain ferris arid; flowers, JeanMarie to sedately, read his breviary, Matthias to arrarige.his specimens, from time 'to: time snatching a sentence from the prayer book propped" open before him. - . :; • „ . ' The little hollow was full of peace, of sunshine, of the swift "rushing murmur of the creek which fled throiigh it liurrving to the farther hills; and into this peace walked Father d'Astigny and the Superior General. At .sight ■or tlie three quiet figures Father d Astigny turned' a relieved counteance to the stern face beside him. Those-rumors, those.hints from Andre which shadowed scandal! Pooh! He snapped at them with his fingers. ' But from the fern-fringed roadway arose clamorous callings. Baptiste, followed by Andre, sought Aimee, and: catching sight of liis daughter, yelledAimee!" he shouted. "Name of a pig! Ungrateful, wretchedone, is it that you fly me, Baptiste, even tlie father of you, and tramp through the woods with these wolves of. priests?" Baptiste thought; himself an atheist-, and prided -himself on that 'As lie "approached-, lie brandished his heavy drover's whip, making the leatliei. crack like pistol shots. ~ "Come hither, Andre, and take her, - lie bawled. "Take - her by tlie hair ir she comes not willingly. She is-, thine, I have promised her to thee. ;, will drive her with the whip. hussy, have I begotten tliee- for thisr Inexpressibly annoyed by the ba/wliiig voice, -the cracking whip, Matthias looked up. scowling, and closed his bos; Jean-Marie put his breviary in his pocket and rose to Ins feet, standing at guard before the crouching girl. He fixed a speculative stare upon the cunning, the evil eyes, the lank hail of Andre, and his lips twitched. And just then, emerging from tlie woods, delicate as a breeze, with wide "old winigs blazoned with purple glories, tlie butterfly of Matthias' long search, flew lightly into the hollow. Ihe Bughunter leaped to liis feet with a cry, snatched his net, arid rushed after it-, hurling himself pell-mell into the uncouth figure of Baptiste; heedlessly he rushed over the fallen man, and disappeared after the flitting insect.. Enraged, foaming, astonished Baptiste staggered to his feet. Disdaining the pale, haughty- Superior General and the open-mouthed I* atlier d Astignj, his pig-like eye fell evilly upon- lus shrinking daughter' : and the tall -young man standing before her. 1 his, then, was that meddlesome priest of whom Andie had whispered, who had hio d-irl's untoward disobedience/ Well, he would revenge'himself, , he. Baptists— 1 H© would with his big fastknock down this meddler, this man ill woman's clothes, and with his great boots kick him soundly. Then he would soundly whip Aimee, for conscience sake, and to teach lier her place , also he would follow it ui> with a good thrashing of old .who was far, far too saucy for an Indian. Andre should then take Aimee, take her b> tbq hair, if necessary. He would show them who was master of his own ! Lurching up to the silent Jean-Marie, lie thrust his face inflamed with much drinking, w!tli many evjl passions, into the boyish countenance. . t . , Something happened in that, instant to the young novice; a new spirit awoke in ihe* great frame hardened by clean living, .by pure thinking, by outdoor exercise.' His shapely brown hands doubled into hard fists, lus mild blue eves flashed, his boyish mouth gie>\ grim. Under the priest's cassock a Chasseur of France, the splendid son of his father,' leaped into fighting life ' as the primal lust of battle, battle for the woman of his choice, was- aroused in him. He drew a deep breath, and looked about him with a new fine freedom. His lips opened in a shout, lus arm shout out! Baptiste found himself battling with a thunderbolt. "Ha, monster, assassin, ill-begotten wretch! "Wouldst lay ;thy filthy hand upon her, who is mine, even berprc me, Jean-Marie, son of Jean-Marie, the soldier?" .The peaceful hollow witnessed the giving and taking of blows and of buffetings, heard shouts and roars. Presently, with rumpled hair, red face, and a cut above the eyebrow from which blood was trickling, Jean-Marie found himself standing above-his fallen enemy who had been pommelled so unmercifully lie liad -not time even-.to reach for his- knife. "I have enough of this, nie, growled the prostrate one. Jerked to his feet, hone too gently, a cold blue eye looked into his, a menacing voice said in his ear: "That daughter, she whom you asked to marry with the wretch, Andre, she is for me, Jean-Marie. Yen will understand, hein." .. . ,

"Take her—and go with you," choked the hunter. "She is no moro of mine, that girl." And without a backward glance he tramped heavily off, followed by Andre.. . ' . Jean-Mario turned and faced the inscrutable eyes of the Superior General, and the kind benignant face of Father d'Astigny, vainly .endeavoring to'appear stern. After a second, tho Superior General said in his clear voice: '

"It would appear" that I have been rightly informed concerning you, ray son; you -have beeii disobedient, and you have split'upon that rock which has shipwrecked many men. ■ Wherefore you have come to a crisis, for God demands an undivided heart. As for Matthias— —" ■■ ■

"I have got him, my butterfly!" bawled the; Bughunter, ' ■ crashing through the bushes. "Oh, such a one as "never was seen before! My butterfly!" "I have said that, he is simplnwitted," Ssaid Father d'Astigny, resignedly.

"I will fast and.pray aiid do penance —for a year, as'soon as I have mounted liini." said Matthias, hastily. Without paj'ing any, further, attention to his companions, ignoring tlieir altered looks, he gathered up his box, sluiig his net over hifi shoulder,'and fled, homeward. , ■ When, he stood alone again; with his superiors, Jean-Marie called softlv to the frightened girl. As she approached, casting at the two priests timid and supplicating glances, he put- his big arm around her and drew her close.

"Behold her, she who is as mv heart, the best of me. the love of me. JeanMarie! God who brought me hither, from France, from my country, led mo to her. I praise His goodness, and the wisdom of T3im." he said with a simple directness which was not without dignitv. "It is to me. this love winch- I did not myself call hither, which I cannot send hence, as. the holv voice of God speaking. 1 cannot denv that good voice, my Fathers, for it tells me ar l-isi what I must- do ;:u ! !ri-,v T m-.;.--', be faithful to myself and to her. T pray you whom I have ever loved, and who of your goodness may ever love me. to judge me. fiot as a priest among priests, but as a inan among men!" He looked down at the trembling girl clinging to him, and patted her reassuringly. "Be not. of a cowardice.

little heart." ho whispered, kissing lier <m the lips. The Superior General shrugged his ' shoulders.not unkindly. "We seek no i man who does not with all his heart ! seek us," he said, quietly. "It is well, my son, that you have found out your true self before- it is too late.'-' And he muttered, imde'r- ljis breath: "Chasseur d'Afriquo wins!?? ; . Father d'Astigny plucked, at his sleeve. Tlie old man might weep- the loss of Jean-Marie the missionary, son of the saint, , butlie struggled vith a .sinful pride the soldier, '.fyeii-HCipd foifeivo him !—tlie lover! * ■■■ -- • i"At - Delacroix's tiiev need a /new-foreman. At a word from you lie could- fill i tliat place' with credit to him- ■ self/'aiii Us," : he said, insinuatingly. Their straightening his bent shoulders, rlie looked ; his Superior straight in the ;eyes,liis lienevolent, beautiful old face • flushed mth emotion. ' . "My General, 1 have for this bison 'of a-boy the feelings of a father. Ah, d —l. cannot change toward him. And the girl,, she is but a deserted childy cruelly nsed by that infidel Baptiste.- -Shall; we then let him,'that wretchy triumph? This mad boy of • ours lias for her much affection. Let me, ,1 pray you, for God's for my own peace, marry them" here?" .-Lookin'gM.iiito the -wistful-, eyes oi the old man,- wSom lie loved, tlie Superior : General of the North-west smiled his rare smile,- like January He nodded indulgently. ''l have nothing, my little one, but I me, myself, to offer you," said big :Jean-Marie to his little sweetheart. "It maylje that; you will accept of me, -notwithstanding?" ■ : -Her. lips quivered, he felt lier tears and kisses on bis hand; she looked up, 'a long deep look that held the consent of her soul.