Page:The Lady's Book Vol X.pdf/4

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4

THE

ST.

LAWRENCE

SMUGGLER.

Original.

THE ST. LAWRENCE SMUGGLER.

“Ye smiled but your smile hath a dimness yet—
Oh! what have you looked on since last we met.”— Hemans.

Every body on the Canadian frontier, from the his life must pay the forfeit. In a gulf of Toronto on the Ontario, to the Trois Rivieres, had killed a young lieutenant of de oa on below Montreal, knew Roger Dimon—although as in of the governor; the case was clear, and it was j the case of Rinaldo Rinaldini, nobody could tell ex- avowed that no mercy would be shown him, actly who or what Roger Dimon was. We said every had examined the prison carefully, and he bélieved body knew him, but it must be received with this that by getting on the roof, the iron gratingsof the exception, it was

only when

he chose to be known,

window to the room occupied by young Murray

mij

jm for the chameleon could not be more variable in his be wrenched away, and then by means of appearance and character than was Roger Dimon. ladder, his escape be effected. The attempt was The

beardless

boy, and

tottering age—the Canadian

Frenchman, and wandering Huron—the

sour crout

eating Dutchman, and the sly, overreaching, notionselling Yankee—the grave Catholic priest, and the cheating suttler—gentleman and beggar, were among his easily assumed characters. What his business was,

hazardous one, but Dimon was not a man to hesitate. Dimon mounted the roof, removed the and

with the liberated Murray, was retracing his when the moon, which had been hid by a dense cloud,

suddenly shone ‘out, and revealed to the

j

sentinels the moving shadows of two human be’

or whether he had any, was as much a mystery as the opposite walls. Dimon saw they were di his metamorphoses; and the wonderful celerity of his but before they eould fairly gain the street, the alarm movements, was not the least surprising part of the was given, and a dozen men had collected to arrest qualities that were attributed to him. Roger Dimon them.—Throwing the rope ladder over a wall, he diwas a man rather above the ordinary stature, thickset, rected Murray .to pass over and escape, while he muscles like iron, a pair of shoulders that Hercules would hold the pursuers in check, and trust to circum. might have envied, yet with all these stubborn points stances to secure his flight. This he did 4 about him, no man’s frame could possess more agility, and Murray was soon beyond the reach of detection. strength, flexibility, and grace. His eyes were dark, No sooner had Dimon allowed Murray to escape, than and a pair of overhanging brows, gave them a peculiar piercing air, and when awakened by passion, some-

thing like ferocity and defiance. It would be idle to recount the conflicting opinions respecting him.—Some affirmed him to be a spy—some an army contractor, and as it-was during the last war with Great Britain that he received the most notice, this opinion was quite current—some insisted that he was a dealer in forged notes—and others averred that his business was smuggling. The truth is that few of these con-

he threw himself headlong, with a pistol ineach hand,

upon the circle which had cooped him up; but they dared not lay their hands upon him, and with the quickness of thought

he forced

a passage and fled,

pursued by several of the most active of the men. Nothing could have been more

easy than for Dimon

to have checked the pursuit; but determined notto shed blood in another man’s quarrel,he decidedon making his escape, without resort to force.

Making one or two sudden turns to baffle pursuit,

jectures were without some foundation; though had he found himself by the high walls that enclose the any man charged him with being a counterfeiter, it buildings and garden of the Ursuline nunnery, and

would probably have been the last charge he would have made against any one. When money was to be made by contracting for the army then he was a contractor—with the movements of those on both sides of the line he by some means obtained the earliest notice

with a single leap placed himself within the forbidden enclosure. In a moment he heard the voicesof his pursuers, evidently at fault, and deciding that without aid noone could possibly mount those walls. After the danger was past, Dimon took a turn or two inthe

—and in the perilous business of smuggling

flower bordered avenues, and as the moon had not yet

he was

a perfect adept. There whs not a bay, creek,or island, set, he threw himself in a retired corner beneath a from Kingston to Montreal, from Sacket’s Harbour to Ogdensburg, with which he was not familiarly ac-

cluster of trees, to wait until deeper darkness should enable him to leave the spot without notice.

Forget-

ting the new difficulties that might ensue, should he be found in that situation, he fell asleep, and lulled by the whispering boughs, and fanned by the fresh air was more than all this—his lowering brow—his flash- of a beautiful evening, he slept until the matin bell ing eye—and his courage and fortitude, marked him had called the inmates of the nunnery to prayers, and as a man capable of the most desperate enterprises. the green hills and towering spires of Montreal island, quainted.

His pockets were never without money,

and: when occasion required, or fancy prompted, he was lavish in its disbursement. But Roger Dimon

It was whispered he cared no more for human life than a puff of a segar—that he feltno more reluctance

to shedding blood, than spilling claret, and the manner in which he always went armed gave colour to these suspicions.

But if deep dyed in crime, they were not

of an ordinary kind.

He despised an act of meanness,

as he would the robbing of a henroost or a potatoe garden—but when danger was to be encountered—

and the broad streams that surround it, were glitter

ing in the first beams of the morning sun. Instantly rising he was making his way to the wall, when his progress was arrested by a vision of surpassing interest, and which drove from his thoughts all sense of danger or of place. In the most retired part of the enclosure, beneath a cluster of tall sweet

briar, and wild vines,

on the green turf,a young and beautiful girl was when what were impossibilities to others, were to be kneeling before a small silver crucifix,and so deeply overcome, then all the powerful energies of his mind engaged in devotion, that the step of Dimon, though t but a few feet distance was unheard, and parti were brought into successful action.

id An unfortunate affair had thrown one of Roger’ Dimon’s former friends into the Montreal prison, and wes

unless some measures for his escape were adopted,

hid by the branches, he remained unseen, though she

directly before him.—Dimon was fixed to the spot, as by enchantment—he gazed on the beautiful cret-