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Updated: May 25, 2025
I hear him so," responded Grassette; and his face had a strange, fixed look which the others interpreted to be agitation at the thought that he had saved his own life by finding Bignold and alive; which would put his own salvation beyond doubt. He broke away from them and hurried down the Gulch. The others followed hard after, the Sheriff and the warders close behind; but he outstripped them.
Grassette imagined that the Governor did not remember who Bignold was, and that this was an appeal against his despair, and against revenging himself on the community which had applauded his sentence. If he went to the Gulch, no one would know or could suspect the true situation, everyone would be unprepared for that moment when Bignold and he would face each other and all that would happen then.
I will promise ah yes, Grassette, but it shall be so! Public opinion will demand it. You will do it?" "To go free altogether?" "Well, but if your life is saved, Grassette?" The dark face flushed, then grew almost repulsive again in its sullenness. "Life and this, in prison, shut in year after year. To do always what some one else wills, to be a slave to a warder.
"His name is Bignold," the Governor answered. He turned to the Sheriff inquiringly. "That is it, is it not?" he asked, in English, again. "James Tarran Bignold," answered the Sheriff. The effect of these words upon Grassette was remarkable.
I will promise ah, yes, Grassette, but it shall be so! Public opinion will demand it. You will do it?" "To go free altogether?" "Well, but if your life is saved, Grassette?" The dark face flushed, then grew almost repulsive again in its sullenness. "Life and this, in prison, shut in year after year! To do always what some one else wills, to be a slave to a warder!
Here Grassette gave the signal to shout aloud, and the voice of the Sheriff called out: "Hello, Bignold! Hello! Hello, Bignold! Are you there? Hello!" His voice rang out clear and piercing, and then came a silence a long, anxious silence. Again the voice rang out: "Hello! Hello-o-o! Bignold! Bigno-o-ld!" They strained their ears. Grassette was flat on the ground, his ear to the earth.
"His name is Bignold," the Governor answered. He turned to the Sheriff inquiringly. "That is it, is it not?" he asked in English again. "James Tarran Bignold," answered the Sheriff. The effect of these words upon Grassette was remarkable.
"His Honor, the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir Henri Robitaille, has come to speak with you.... Stand up!" the Sheriff added, sharply, as Grassette kept his seat. Grassette's face flushed with anger, for the prison had not broken his spirit; then he got up slowly. "I not stand up for you," he growled at the Sheriff; "I stand up for him." He jerked his head toward Sir Henri Robitaille.
It had, however, been of no use, and Grassette had refused the advances and ministrations of the little good priest, Father Laflamme, who had come from the coast of purpose to give him the offices of the Church. Silent, obdurate, sullen, he had looked the priest straight in the face and had said in broken English, "Non, I pay my bill.
He looked at Grassette with a look of poignant pity and interest combined.
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