It was then that my wife went down to make
a last fight to save him, to bring him back, and you know how she
made that fight, m'sieu--until the day you hanged him!"
St. Pierre was leaning from his chair, his face ablaze. "Tell me,
did she not fight?" he cried. "And YOU, until the last--did you
not fight to have her put behind prison bars with her brother?"
"Yes, it is so," murmured Carrigan.
"She hated you," went on St. Pierre. "You hanged her brother, who
was almost a part of her flesh and body. He was bad, but he had
been hers from babyhood, and a mother will love her son if he is a
devil. And then--I won't take long to tell the rest of it! Through
friends she learned that you, who had hanged her brother, were on
your way to run down Roger Audemard. And Roger Audemard, mind you,
was the same as myself, for I had sworn to take my brother's place
if it became necessary. She was on the bateau with Marie-Anne when
the messenger came. She had but one desire--to save me--to kill
you. If it had been some other man, but it was you, who had hanged
her brother! She disappeared from the bateau that day with a
rifle. You know, M'sieu David, what happened.
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