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Updated: June 4, 2025
But Ching Po must have had a like inspiration, for when I was almost within sight of my goal fifty rods ahead the Chinaman emerged from a side lane between me and it. He was running like the wind. Follet was nowhere to be seen. Ching Po and I were the only mites on earth's surface.
I hinted something of the kind to Fred, but he laughed at it, and in a few minutes we had a rush of morning customers, and all thoughts of Follet and his vengeance were banished from my mind. I think that we were seated at breakfast, and wondering why Mr. Brown had been absent for such a length of time from the store, when who should pay us a visit but the police commissioner, Mr.
"Do you dare bring such a charge against these men?" asked the inspector, facing the lying scamp, and endeavoring to get a glimpse at his face. "Take time for your answer, and consider the suspicious manner in which you stand in the estimation of the police at Ballarat. I know you and your doings." Follet made an appealing gesture to the commissioner, and the latter interfered.
Stires had shut up his junk-shop for a time and stayed strictly at home. I went to see him, the day after they found her. His face was drawn and gloomy, but it was the face of a man in his right mind. I think his worst time was that hour after Follet had followed Ching Po out of his warehouse.
I spared him the effort of polishing off his lie. The man wanted to be alone with his trouble, and that was a state of mind I understood only too well. The circumstantial evidence I had before me as I walked back to my own house led inevitably to one verdict. I could almost reconstruct the ignoble pidgin-splutter in which Ching Po had told Stires, and was even now telling Follet.
Now, at Grosse Isle was a strange thing called the rolling muff, that all were afraid of, since to meet it was a warning of trouble; but, like the feu follet, it could be driven off by holding a cross toward it or by asking it on what day of the month came Christmas. The worse of the Tremblays encountered this creature and it filled him with dismay.
I felt like Circe or perhaps Ulysses; save that I had none of that wise man's wisdom. The reward of my abstinence, I found, was to be the seeing home of Schneider. It would have come more naturally to Follet, who also lived at Dubois's, but Follet was fairly snarling at Schneider. French Eva's name had been mentioned.
Among both blacks and whites the house was the object of a thousand superstitions. Every midnight they affirmed, the feu follet came out of the marsh and ran in and out of the rooms, flashing from window to window.
We return to our former assertion that it is the make which renders a common material wearable in any, even the very best society. It requires, of course, a knowledge of the prevailing fashion, which may easily be arrived at by the simple process of taking in "Le Follet," or some good monthly publication on fashions.
"Don't give yourselves any uneasiness on that silly charge," the commissioner said, with a smile that was intended to be engaging, but I shuddered at it, it was so cold and fiendish. "I am perfectly satisfied that Follet lied to me, and any time you wish to proceed against him for perjury I will grant a warrant, and will also release you and your friend from bail."
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