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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Flaming Forest"

That is all. I am asking for
no odds, though you concede the handicap is great."
He did not look at St. Pierre. Behind him he heard the other's
deep breathing. For a space neither spoke. Outside they could hear
the soft swish of water, the low voices of men in the stern, and a
shout and the barking of a dog coming from the raft far out on the
river. For David the moment was one of suspense. He turned again,
a bit carelessly, as if his proposition were a matter of but
little significance to him. St. Pierre was not looking at him. He
was staring toward the door, as if through it he could see the
powerful form of Bateese bending over the stern sweep. And
Carrigan could see that his face was flaming with a great desire,
and that the blood in his body was pounding to the mighty urge of
it.
Suddenly he faced Carrigan.
"M'sieu, listen to me," he said. "You are a brave man. You are a
man of honor, and I know you will bury sacredly in your heart what
I am going to tell you now, and never let a word of it escape--
even to my Jeanne. I do not blame you for loving her. Non! You
could not help that. You have fought well to keep it within
yourself, and for that I honor you.


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