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Updated: June 25, 2025
Jacques came back one night and found the house empty. Marcile had gone to try her luck with another man. That was the end of the upward career of Jacques Grassette. He went out upon a savage hunt which brought him no quarry, for the man and the woman had disappeared as completely as though they had been swallowed by the sea.
"Then there is, of course, the doctor," said the Sheriff. "Bon," said Grassette. "What time is it?" "Twelve o'clock," answered the Sheriff, and made a motion to the warder to open the door of the cell. "By sundown!" Grassette said, and he turned with a determined gesture to leave the cell. At the gate of the prison, a fresh, sweet air caught his face.
"Jacques Grassette!" he cried in consternation and emotion, for under another name the murderer had been tried and sentenced, nor had his identity been established the case was so clear, the defence had been perfunctory, and Quebec was very far away. "M'sieu'!" was the respectful response, and Grassette's fingers twitched.
"Hold you does he need a Sheriff to tell him when to spik?" was Grassette's surly comment. Then he turned to the Governor. "Let us speak in French," he said in patois. "This rope-twister will not understan'. He is no good I spit at him." The Governor nodded, and, despite the Sheriff's protest, they spoke in French, Grassette with his eyes intently fixed on the other, eagerly listening.
What would Grassette do? It was a problem which had no precedent, and the solution would be a revelation of the human mind and heart. What would the man do? "Well, what is all this, Grassette?" asked the Sheriff brusquely.
If I stayed here, I would kill again, I would kill kill." "Then to go free altogether that would be the wish of all the world, if you save this man's life, if it can be saved. Will you not take the chance? We all have to die some time or other, Grassette, some sooner, some later; and when you go, will you not want to take to God in your hands a life saved for a life taken?
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.
It was four o'clock when they reached the pass which only Grassette knew, the secret way into the Gulch.
A man's life is in danger, or it may be he is dead; but more likely he is alive. You took a life; perhaps you can save one now. Keeley's Gulch the mine there." "They have found it gold?" asked Grassette, his eyes staring. He was forgetting for a moment where and what he was. "He went to find it, the man whose life is in danger. He had heard from a trapper who had been a miner once.
Grassette said harshly, with eyes that searched the Governor's face; but they found no answering look there. The Governor, then, did not remember that tragedy of his home and hearth, and the man who had made of him an Ishmael. Still, Bignold had been almost a stranger in the parish, and it was not curious if the Governor had forgotten. "Bignold!" he repeated, but the Governor gave no response.
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