Would she tell St. Pierre of the many hours they
had spent together? Would she confess to him the secret of that
precious moment when she had lain close against his breast, her
arms about him, her face pressed to his? Would she speak to him of
secret hours, of warm flushes that had come to her face, of
glowing fires that at times had burned in her eyes when he had
been very near to her? Would she reveal EVERYTHING to St. Pierre--
her husband? He was powerless to combat the voice that told him
no. Carmin Fanchet had fought him openly as an enemy and had not
employed her beauty as a weapon. Marie-Anne had put in his way a
great temptation. What he was thinking seemed to him like a
sacrilege, yet he knew there could be no discriminating
distinctions between weapons, now that he was determined to play
the game to the end, for the Law.
When Carrigan went out on deck, the half-breed was sweating from
his exertion at the stern sweep. He looked at the agent de police
who was going to fight him, perhaps tomorrow or the next day.
There was a change in Carrigan. He was not the same man who had
gone into the cabin an hour before, and the fact impressed itself
upon Bateese.
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