The thought sharpened his vision. He saw a thin shadow a little
darker than the gloom of the river; it grew into shape; something
grated lightly upon sand and pebbles, and then he heard the
guarded plash of feet in shallow water and saw some one pulling
the canoe up higher. A second figure joined the first. They
advanced a few paces and stopped. In a moment a voice called
softly,
"M'sieu! M'sieu Carrigan!"
There was an anxious note in the voice, but Carrigan held his
tongue. And then he heard the woman say,
"It was here, Bateese! I am sure of it!"
There was more than anxiety in her voice now. Her words trembled
with distress. "Bateese--if he is dead--he is up there close to
the trees."
"But he isn't dead," said Carrigan, raising himself a little. "He
is here, behind the rock again!"
In a moment she had run to where he was lying, his hand clutching
the cold barrel of the pistol which he had found in the sand, his
white face looking up at her. Again he found himself staring into
the glow of her eyes, and in that pale light which precedes the
coming of stars and moon the fancy struck him that she was
lovelier than in the full radiance of the sun.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52