by Clair Blank
Chapter XII
GALE
Meanwhile in a little, crude French Canadian farmhouse a slight darkhaired girl bent over her sewing while a roaring fire in the brickfireplace sent its welcome warmth out into the room.
To Antoinette Bouchard the winter was the best season of the year. Sheloved to sit warm and cozy in her brother's house and listen to the windsing in the chimney and watch the swirl of snow outside. This storm wasthe earliest she remembered. It was not yet deep winter, barely winterat all, but the snow was piled high against the house and this morningwhen Francois had shoveled a path from the door it had been up to hisknees.
The rocking chair in which she had been swaying gently to and frocreaked suddenly and she looked up in alarm at the figure across thehearth. Her eyes took on a compassionate gleam, her lips curled in asmile, half admiration and half pity. When the other person did notstir, Antoinette resumed her gentle rocking, but her eyes were not nowon her sewing and her work lay idle in her lap.
This other girl was not quite as old as she, Antoinette, and she was sopretty. The reddish brown hair lay in soft curls about the pale, stillface. Her eyes were closed, but Antoinette could well remember the hurt,clouded expression of them when they had first looked into hers thatmorning. She could clearly remember the puzzled look on the girl's facewhen she had asked her questions, questions that had remainedunanswered.
It was last night Francois had brought the girl to their little house.She remembered clearly the tale he had told her of the wrecked airplane,the tree which he had moved to pull the girl from the wreckage, ofcarrying her the long, long distance through the snow to his homebecause he did not know where else to take her.
This morning she and Francois, when the girl had awakened from a sleepwhich had at first seemed to refresh her, had asked questions but shehad been unable to tell them who she was. The little English thatAntoinette knew had been exhausted in an attempt to discover theidentity of the girl and from whence she had come.
The girl had been bewildered, frightened, and they hoped a quiet restwould restore her memory. All day it had been so. She had sat withclosed eyes most of the time, but Antoinette guessed that her mind wasstruggling to remember the details of who she was and what had happened.
Antoinette sighed and returned to her sewing. This morning Francois,after he had cut some wood, was to start out on a trip back to theairplane. Perhaps there he could have discovered someone searching forthe girl. But he was destined not to go. During his log splitting, theaxe had fallen upon his foot, making a nasty wound that would leave himcrippled for many days. There was nothing now to do but keep the girlhere and try to help her restore the past that had suddenly been blottedfrom her mind.
Antoinette stole a glance at the young girl. She was amazed to see tearsstealing down the soft cheeks. Immediately she dropped her sewing andfell upon her knees beside the other girl. She clasped her close andmurmured soothing words.
Gale merely clung tightly to Antoinette while sobs shook her slenderbody. All day she had been thinking, thinking, trying to remember whoand what she was. But it was no use. Her mind was a complete blank. Afog shrouded her memory and it would not lift. Not an inkling of theairplane crash did she remember, or her friends or parents back inMarchton. She knew only that this girl and her big brother weremarvelously kind to her. The tenderness of Antoinette had its effect andslowly the sobs subsided, but Gale remained clasped in the little Frenchgirl's arms for a long while afterward. Then Antoinette helped Gale toher feet and led her to the little bed in the other room that had beenAntoinette's for years. Later she went into the third and last room ofthe log building to sit with her brother.
"What are we to do, Francois?" she asked. "The girl is worried--she isafraid."
Francois nodded in quiet agreement. "It is sad. So young, solovely--perhaps in time she will remember."
"We will keep her here, Francois?" Antoinette pleaded.
"You wish for a little sister?" her brother asked smilingly. "But ofcourse she will remain here. Where else would she go when she does notremember anything? It would be cruel to send her away." After a while hespoke again. "If I but had not hurt myself. I might have been able tolearn something about her. In town they may know something."
Antoinette shook her head. "The snow has blocked the roads. You couldnot get to the town. We must wait."
"She is well otherwise?" Francois asked.
"Yes. It is only her mind that is affected. She is so quiet," Antoinettesaid. "I know she is worried."
Francois whistled in a low tone to a little bit of fluff curled up inthe corner. The dog, a young collie, perked up his ears and trottedobediently over to his master. There he sat while the man stroked hisfur.
"She is sweet," Antoinette murmured dreamily.
"But we love Antoinette, eh Toto?"
The dog licked his master's fingers in agreement while the girl laughedwith pleasure. For years the two had lived here in this house built byFrancois and his father. At first there had been the three of them butnow there was but the girl and her brother. Francois earned enough moneyby his work in logging camps during certain months of the year to keepthe little farm running smoothly. Toto was the very last addition totheir mansion and he was the gayest of company for the girl when herbrother was away.
In the other little room Gale sat up in the bed and stared out the smallwindow at the snow. The ground was white in the moonlight, and unbrokensave for the path from the door of the cabin. She clasped her knees inher arms and rested her chin on them. Her eyes were dark, like thewaters of a bottomless pool. She didn't cry any more. Her tears were allgone; instead had come a queer sort of fatality. She realized now thatno matter how hard she tried she couldn't remove that gray blanket fromher thoughts. It was as if she had never known anything but this day, asif there had never been any yesterdays. She knew nothing beyond thewalls of this cabin, and no one but Antoinette and her brother.
Gale lay back on her pillow and stared up at the darkness. Her heart washeavy and she felt listless. Suppose her memory never came back? With alittle sense of comfort she remembered the French girl's words ofearlier that evening.
"Cherie, you must not weep. A little time and everything will be wellagain."
She must believe that! The thought that somewhere there might be someonelooking for her, she not knowing where they were, unable to go to them,made her heart beat longingly.
Her hand had been hanging over the side of the bed and now somethingcold and wet was pushed into it. With a little startled cry she pulledaway until in the moonlight she saw the form of woolly Toto. In hisexploring the household for a warm friendly place to spend the night, hehad come into her room. She patted the bed beside her and withdifficulty, for his legs were rather short and clumsy yet, he jumped upinto her arms and snuggled close.
In the morning Antoinette found them, the dog still curled in the crookof Gale's arm, both sound asleep. She smiled to herself and gentlylifted the dog to the floor. He let out a protesting grunt at beingroused from his delicious slumbers and Gale opened her eyes.
"Bad Toto!" Antoinette scolded. "Waking Cherie. You are wicked!"
Toto merely blinked in the sunlight and dabbed carelessly at his pawwith his red tongue before hopping up to resume his place in Gale'sarms.
Antoinette laughed. "He has already fallen in love with you," she saidin uncertain English.
Gale laid her cheek on the dog's soft head. She could feel the fastbeating of his little heart. She rubbed his ear and he cocked his headin appreciation.
"I like him," she said.
Antoinette smiled. The stranger looked much better this morning. Alittle color was coming back to the white cheeks and Toto had alreadysucceeded in rousing a smile. Antoinette brought Gale's breakfast in toher, after which, while Antoinette was out of the room, Gale got up anddressed herself, glad to know she was physically capable of anything.Toto looked on with silent, doggy admirati
on. Upon slipping her blouseover her head, Gale's fingers came in contact with a light golden chainupon which hung a small round locket. She turned it over in her fingersand in the bright morning light could barely make out the word engravedon its surface.
"What is it?" Antoinette had entered unperceived by Gale. Over hershoulder Antoinette looked at the locket. "Ah! Your name--Gale!"
So it was that Antoinette and her brother learned the name of thestranger. Of course they did not know her last name and save for givingthem a name for her the discovery did not help much. Evidently the namemeant nothing to the girl herself. It stirred absolutely no familiarmemories.
Days passed, days spent entirely in the little cabin or with Antoinettein the snow outside. They never went far from the house, so it was notstrange that word from the outside world did not reach Antoinette or herbrother. They could not know, having no radio, receiving no newspaper orvisitors, that the girl in their home was the object of a nationwidesearch. Gale endeared herself to the two in the cabin and worked readilyinto the scheme of their everyday life. She shared the daily chores withAntoinette and that girl, on her part, was teaching Gale to speak herown familiar language.
At night was the most difficult time for Gale. During the day she wouldbe busy with Antoinette or playing with Toto. But at night, when she hadgone to her room and the others were asleep, she often lay awakethinking, trying to find a thread that would unravel the mystery of herpast life. Tonight was one of the nights when she could not sleep.
Silently she got up and put on her coat. She tiptoed to the door andstepped out into the cold, Canadian night. For a while she stood in themoonlight, then slowly she walked to the group of trees off to theright. The scent of pine was in the air and the wind stirred thebranches faintly. She breathed deeply of the cool air and felt the bloodtingling to her very fingertips. The silence and friendliness of thenight stirred a faint memory of another such night. Somewhere, sometimeshe had stood exactly so, in the quiet darkness of night. But where orwhen she did not know.
She felt keenly alive, standing there in the snow and silence. She knewshe was in much better health than that morning when she had firstawakened in the little cabin, but it was not alone that. She had learnedthings during her stay with Antoinette and her brother in their humblehome. Subconsciously her mind had stored the value of the simple lifethey led, of the freshness and cleanness of the life here. Once morestanding there she tried to bring the dark past into the light. But itwas no use, it only baffled her and gave her that depressed, hopelessfeeling. Slowly she turned and made her way from the clump of trees backto the little cabin.
Half way across the clearing a humming noise broke the stillness of thenight. She raised her eyes to the stars. An airplane was winging its wayacross the path of the moon. Gale gave the flying thing no name. Shemerely stood and watched until it had faded into the west.
For a moment she almost grasped the remembrance of her flight withBrent. Then the memory was gone and she could not recall it. The cloudshad seemed ready to break when she looked at the airplane but now hermind was darker than before.
She returned slowly to the cabin and to bed but she could not sleep. Allnight long she thought of the sense of familiarity she had experiencedas she watched the airplane. It must be a key to her past, part of thepuzzle of her memory, if only she could fit it into the right place!Along toward dawn she fell into a light sleep but she was up at thefirst sound from Antoinette and all day she tried to connect an airplanewith her thoughts. If only she could remember!
She helped Antoinette with the little housework there was to do, sewedtwo buttons on her jacket and romped with Toto before luncheon.
After the midday meal Antoinette proposed that she and Gale walk in tothe little town where they could replenish the supply of flour andcanned goods that was dwindling rapidly. Francois was at first reluctantto let his sister make the trip, but she finally coaxed forth hispermission.
In her coat, the same woolly one that had kept her warm in Brent'sairplane, and one of Antoinette's close-fitting caps over her curls,Gale started out walking briskly between Antoinette and the leaping,frolicking Toto. The two girls talked gayly, Antoinette learning moreand more about this girl who had come so strangely into their life.
It was a good hour's walk to the little French village where Antoinetteand her brother purchased their supplies. There while Antoinette greetedfriend after friend and entered little stores to procure theirprovisions, Gale, with Toto at her heels, went through the littlecrooked, cobbled stone streets, both of them keenly delighted with thesights. Toto delighted because there were so many little nooks andcrannies for him to explore and Gale because every street warranted hera pleasant surprise.
