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same rebels had lived for years in dread of their lives from that desperado, and how at the time nearly the whole population had expressed their satisfaction and thanks to the Police for getting rid of the outlaw, who had been killed in resisting arrest. Now, when it suited their ends, the latter was a martyr, and he was a malefactor. He wished they would hurry up and shoot him out of hand, if he was to be shot He did not know what horrible formality might not be in store for him before they did that. But how beautifully the sun was shining! He had hardly thought that Battleford could be so fair to look upon. At last he saw several breeds approaching, and one of them carried with him an axe and a quantity of rope. And behind the breeds, greeted by lusty acclamations from the mob, came Louis Riel. CHAPTER XVII A CLOSE CALL As the would-be priest and originator of two rebellions approached Pasmore, the ragged, wild-eyed, clamorous crowd made way for him. It was ludicrous to note the air of superiority and braggadocio that this inordinately vain and ambitious man adopted. The prisoner was standing surrounded by his now largely augmented guard, who, forgetful of one another's contiguity, had their many wonderfully and fearfully made blunderbusses levelled at him, ready to blow him into little pieces at a moment's notice if he made the slightest attempt to resist or escape. Great would have been the slaughter amongst the metis if this had happened. "Prisoner," said Riel, with a decided French accent, "you are a spy." He fixed his dark grey eyes upon Pasmore angrily, and jerked out what he had to say. "I fail to see how one who wears the Queen's uniform can be a spy," said Pasmore, undoing the leather tags of his long buffalo coat and showing a serge jacket with the regimental brass button on it. "Ah, that is enough--one of the Mounted Police! What are you doing in this camp?" "It is I who should be asking you that question. What are _you_ doing under arms? Another rebellion? Be warned by me, Monsieur Riel, and stop this bloodshed as you value your immortal soul." He knew that through the fanatic's religion lay the only way of reaching him at all. But the only effect these words had upon Riel was to further incense the arch rebel. "Bind him, and search him," he cried. Pasmore knew that resistance was hopeless, so quietly submitted. Their mode of tying him was unique. They put a ro
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