The Whelps of the Wolf

by George P. Marsh

  CHAPTER XLI

  AS YE SOW

  Fresh from a London hospital though he was, John Hunter found that thecondition of Julie Breton demanded the exercise of all his skill as asurgeon. But the operation, aided by the girl's young strength andvitality, was successful, and she slowly overcame the grip of theinfection.

  Four days after Marcel reeled into Whale River with his battered dogs,bringing the man who was winning back life for Julie Breton, anexhausted dog-team limped in from the south. Rushing into thetrade-house the white-faced Wallace grasped Gillies' hand, hoarselydemanding:

  "Does she live, Gillies?"

  "She's all right, Mr. Wallace; doing well, the doctor says," answeredGillies. "She's going to pull through, thanks to Jean Marcel and Dr.Hunter. I take my hat off to those two men."

  Wallace's eyes shifted to the floor as he ventured:

  "When did they get in?"

  "Oh, they came through against that blow in three days and a half. Thegreatest feat of man and dogs in my time. When did you leave East Main?"

  Wallace stared incredulously at Colin Gillies' wooden face.

  "East Main? Why, didn't Marcel tell you?"

  "No," replied Gillies, but he did not say that his wife had been told byHunter of the presence of Wallace at Fort George the night Marcelbrought the news. However, the factor did not further embarrass hischief by questions. And Wallace did not see fit to inform him that notuntil the wind died, two days after the relief party started, had heleft Fort George.

  "I suppose she's too sick to see me?" the nervous Inspector hazarded.

  "Yes, no one sees her except Mrs. Gillies and Hunter."

  "Well, I'll look up Father Breton," and Wallace went out followed by anexpression in Colin Gillies' face which the Inspector would not havecared to see.

  For a week Wallace remained at Whale River and then, assured by Dr.Hunter of Julie's safety, left, to return later. When, meeting Marcel inthe trade-house, he had attempted to thank him, the cold glitter in theeyes of the Frenchman as he listened with impassive face to the haltingwords of the Inspector of the East Coast, filled Colin Gillies withinward delight.

  When Gillies bade good-bye to his chief, he said casually, "Well, Isuppose we'll have a wedding here in June, Mr. Wallace."

  "Yes, Gillies, Father Breton and I are only waiting for Julie to set thedate. Good-bye; I'll be up the coast next month," and was off.

  But what piqued Gillies' curiosity was whether Dr. Hunter had told PereBreton just what happened at Fort George when the tragic call for helpcame in on Christmas night. Jean Marcel's mouth had been shut like asprung trap, even Jules and Angus did not know; of that, Gillies wassure. But why had the doctor not told Pere Breton, as well as Mrs.Gillies? He was Julie's brother and ought to know. If Hunter hadenlightened the priest, then Colin Gillies was no judge of men, for hehad always admired the Oblat.

  The first week in February Julie Breton was sitting up, and Mr. Hunterbade good-bye to the staunch friends he had made at Whale River. Notalways are the relations between Oblat or Jesuit, and Protestantmissionaries, unduly cordial in the land of their labors, but when theReverend Hunter left the Mission House at Whale River, there remained inthe hearts of Pere Breton, his sister and Jean Marcel, a love for thedoctor, clergyman and man which the years did not dim.

  One day, later on, Marcel and Fleur were making their afternoon call onJulie, who was propped in bed, her hair hanging in two thick braids.

  "We leave in a few days," Jean said in French. "Michel is anxious to getback to his traps."

  "Oh, don't go so soon, Jean. I haven't yet had an opportunity to talk toyou as I wished."

  "If you mean to thank me, I am glad of that," he said, his lips curlingin a faint smile.

  "Why should I not thank you, Jean Marcel, who risked your life like amadman to help me? I do now thank you with all my heart. But for you, Iwould not be here. Dr. Hunter told me I could not have lived had hearrived one day later."

  With a gesture of impatience Marcel turned in his chair and gazedthrough the window on the world of snow.

  The dark eyes in the pale face of the girl were strangely soft as theyrested on the sinewy strength of the man's figure; then lifted to thestrong profile, with its bony jaw and bold, aquiline nose.

  "You do not care for my thanks, Jean?" she asked.

  "Please!" he begged. "It is over, that! You are well again! I am happy;and will go back to my trap-lines."

  "But it is not all over with Julie Breton," she insisted.

  He turned with brows raised questioningly.

  "It has left her--changed. She will never be the same."

  "What do you mean? Dr. Hunter said you would be as strong as ever, byspring."

  "Ah, but I do not speak of my body, Jean Marcel."

  He gazed in perplexity at her wistful face. In a moment his eyes againsought the window.

  For a long space, she was silent. Then a suppressed sob roused him fromhis bitter thoughts and he heard the strained voice of the girl.

  "I know all," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Mrs. Gillies, and Dr. Hunter--when I asked him--told me--long ago. Wehave kept it from Pere Henri. It seems years, for I have been thinkingmuch since then--lying awake, thinking."

  "Julie, what has been worrying you? Don't let what I did cause youpain," he pleaded, not catching the significance of her words. "It's allright, Julie. You owe me nothing--I understand."

  "Ah, but you do not understand," she said, smiling at the man's avertedface.

  "Julie, I have suffered, but I want you to be happy. Don't think of JeanMarcel."

  "But it is of Jean Marcel of the great heart that I must think--havebeen thinking, for days and days." She was sitting erect, tense; herpale face drawn with emotion.

  "I tell you I know it all," she cried, "how they--_he_, feared to startin the storm--and waited--ordered you to wait. But no wind or snow couldhold Jean Marcel, and in spite of them, he brought Dr. Hunter to WhaleRiver--and saved Julie Breton."

  Dumb with surprise at her knowledge of what he thought he and Hunteralone knew--at the scorn in her voice, Marcel listened with poundingheart.

  "Yes, they told me," she went on, "how Jean Marcel heard the news whenhe reached Whale River and, without sleep, that night hurried south forhelp, swifter than men had ever travelled, because Julie Breton was inperil. Dr. Hunter has told me all; how you and Fleur fought wind andsnow to bring him to Whale River--and Julie Breton. And now you ask hernot to thank you--you who gave her back her life."

  Only the low sobbing of the girl broke the silence. In a moment theparoxysm passed, and she looked through tears at the man who sat withbowed head in hands, as she faltered:

  "Ah, will you not see--not understand? Must I tell you--thatI--love--Jean Marcel?"

  Dazed, Jean rose. With a hoarse cry of "Julie!" he groped to the bed andtook her in his yearning arms.

  After the years--she had come home.

  Later, Mrs. Gillies looked in to see a dusky head on the shoulder of theman who knelt by the bed, and on the coverlet beside them the great headof Fleur, who gazed up into two illumined faces through narrow eyeswhich seemed to comprehend as her bushy tail slowly swept to and fro.

  * * * * *

  In June there was a wedding at Whale River, with an honored guest whojourneyed up the coast from Fort George for the ceremony, John Hunter.

  The Mission church overflowed with post people and the visiting Crees,few of whom but had known some kindness from Julie Breton. In the robesof his order, Pere Breton faced the bride and groom. Beside the former,gravely stood the matron of honor; her gown of slate-gray and snowywhite, carefully groomed for the occasion by the faithful Jules, glossywith superb vitality; her great neck circled by a white ribbon knottedin a bow--which it had required days to accustom her to wear--in strangecontrast to the massive dignity of the head. From priest to bride andgroom, curiously her slant eyes shifted, in wonder at the proceeding.
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br />   The ceremony over, the bride impulsively kissed the slate-gray head ofthe dog while a hum of approval swept the church. Then, before repairingwith their friends to the Mission House, where the groaning tableawaited them, Julie and Jean Marcel, accompanied by Fleur, went to thestockade. Three gray noses thrust through the pickets whined a welcome.Three gigantic, wolfish huskies met them at the gate with wild yelps andthe mad swishing of tails. Then the happy Jean and Julie gave the whelpsof the wolf their share of the wedding feast.

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  Transcriber's Notes:

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