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Updated: September 27, 2025
As dawn broke, and its rosy light valanced the horizon, a great procession moved away from the River Sagalac towards the East, to which all wandering and Oriental peoples turn their eyes. With it, all that was mortal of Gabriel Druse went to its hidden burial.
They had been heard of here and there, and some of them had been seen along the Sagalac, though he knew nothing of that dramatic incident in the woods when Fleda was kidnapped and Jethro Fawe vanished from the scene.
Two or three times the woman essayed to speak again, but could not. At last, however, she overcame her emotion and said: "So it was when M'sieu' Felix Marchand came up from the Sagalac." The old man started and muttered harshly, but Fleda had foreseen the entrance of the dissolute Frenchman into the tale, and gave no sign of surprise. "M'sieu' Marchand bought horses," the sad voice trailed on.
He has only been in the West a few years, but he has lived in the world exactly thirty-three years. He never willingly did anybody harm never. Since he came West, since he came to the Sagalac, he's brought work to Lebanon and to Manitou. There are hundreds more workmen in both the towns than there were when he came. It was he made others come with much money and build the factories and the mills.
And here also in the Far North where the River Sagalac ran a wild race to Carillon, leaving behind the new towns of Lebanon and Manitou, "the Druses were up." The daughter of Gabriel Druse, the giant, was riding the Rapids of the Sagalac. The suspense to her and to those who watched her course to Tekewani and his braves, to Osterhaut and Jowett could not be long.
"The gun-shots what?" he asked, setting forward at a walk which taxed the rawbone's stride. "An invite come to the wedding; that's all. Only it's a funeral this time, and, if something good doesn't happen, there'll be more than one funeral on the Sagalac to-morrow. I've had my try, but I dunno how it'll come out. He's not a man of much dictionary is the Monseenoor." "The Monseigneur Lourde?
Far back in the minds of every French habitant present was the old monarchical sense. He makes, at worst, a poor anarchist, though he is a good revolutionist; and the French colonials had never been divorced from monarchical France. In the eyes of the most forward of those on the Sagalac bridge, there was a sudden wonderment and confusion.
"I want to belong to both sides of the Sagalac, I want both sides to belong to each other so that either side shall not be my side or your side, or " "Or Monsieur Felix Marchand's side," she interrupted meaningly. "Oh, he's on the outside!" snapped the fighter, with a hardening mouth.
"Got the strength of two, for a drunk man weighs twice as heavy as a sober one!" exclaimed another admiringly. "Marchand's game is up on the Sagalac," declared a third decisively. The excitement was so great, however, that only a very few of them knew what they were saying, and fewer still knew that Dennis Doane had risked his life to save the man he had been stalking for weeks past.
"Men that are going to see law and order kept in Lebanon," he answered. A few hours later Fleda slowly made her way homeward through the woods on the Manitou side of the Sagalac. Leaving Ingolby's house, she had seen men from the ranches and farms and mines beyond Lebanon driving or riding into the town, as though to a fair or fete-day.
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