This was the woman's holy ground, her
sanctuary and her home, and for three days his presence had driven
her from it. There was no other room. In making restitution she
had given up to him her most sacred of all things. And again there
rose up in him that new-born thing which had set strange fires
stirring in his heart, and which from this hour on he knew he must
fight until it was dead.
For an hour after the last of the sun was obirterated by the
western mountains he lay in the gloom of coming darkness. Only the
lapping of water under the bateau broke the strange stillness of
the evening. He heard no sound of life, no voice, no tread of
feet, and he wondered where the woman and her men had gone and if
the scow was still tied up at the edge of the tar-sands. And for
the first time he asked himself another question, Where was the
man, St. Pierref
VIII
It was utterly dark in the cabin, when the stillness was broken by
low voices outside. The door opened, and some one came in. A
moment later a match flared up, and in the shifting glow of it
Carrigan saw the dark face of Bateese, the half-breed. One after
another he lighted the four lamps.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108