In the darkness
David caught his breath. Dead ahead, not a rifle shot away, was
the Chateau Boulain. He knew it before Black Roger had said a
word. He guessed it by the lighted windows, full a score of them,
without a curtain drawn to shut out their illumination from the
night. He could see nothing but these lights, yet they measured
off a mighty place to be built of logs in the heart of a
wilderness, and at his side he heard Black Roger chuckling in low
exultation.
"Our home, m'sieu," he said. "Tomorrow, when you see it in the
light of day, you will say it is the finest chateau in the north--
all built of sweet cedar where birch is not used, so that even in
the deep snows it gives us the perfume of springtime and flowers."
David did not answer, and in a moment Audemard said:
"Only on Christmas and New Year and at birthdays and wedding
feasts is it lighted up like that. Tonight it is in your honor,
M'sieu David." Again he laughed softly, and under his breath he
added, "And there is some one waiting for you there whom you will
be surprised to see!"
David's heart gave a jump. There was meaning in Black Roger's
words and no double twist to what he meant.
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