St. Pierre's wife,
waiting for him to speak, was in some way associated with that
mystery, and the cripple was asking for the man McVane had told
him to bring in dead or alive! Yet he did not question her. He
turned to the window and looked out from where Marie-Anne had
stood a few moments before.
The day was glorious. On the far shore he saw life where last
night's camp had been. Men were moving about close to the water,
and a York boat was putting out slowly into the stream. Close
under the window moved a canoe with a single occupant. It was
Andre, the Broken Man. With powerful strokes he was paddling
across the river. His deformity was scarcely noticeable in the
canoe. His bare head and black beard shone in the sun, and between
his great shoulders his head looked more than ever to Carrigan
like the head of a carven god. And this man, like a mighty tree
stricken by lightning, his mind gone, was yet a thing that was
more than mere flesh and blood to Marie-Anne Boulain!
David turned toward her. Her attitude was changed. It was no
longer one of proud defiance. She had expected to defend herself
from something, and he had given her no occasion for defense.
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