CHAPTER XXV
How long it was before his brain cleared, Kent never could have told.It might have been a minute or an hour. Every vital force that was inhim had concentrated into a single consciousness--that the dead hadcome to life, that it was Marette Radisson, the flesh and blood andliving warmth of her, he held in his arms. Like the flash of a pictureon a screen he had seen McTrigger's face close to him, and then his ownhead was crushed down again, and if the valley had been filled with theroar of cannon, he would have heard only one sound, a sobbing voicecrying over and over again, "Jeems--Jeems--Jeems--"
It was McTrigger, in the beginning of the starlight, who alone lookedwith clear vision upon the wonder of the thing that was happening.After a little Kent realized that McTrigger was talking, that a handwas on his shoulder, that the voice was both joyous and insistent. Herose to his feet, still holding Marette, her arms clinging to him. Herbreath was sobbing and broken. And it was impossible for Kent to speak.He seemed to stumble over the distance between them and the lights,with McTrigger on the other side of Marette. It was McTrigger whoopened a door, and they came into a glow of lamplight. It was a great,strange-looking room they entered. And over the threshold Marette'shands dropped from Kent, and Kent stepped back, so that in the lightthey faced each other, and in that moment came the marvelousreadjustment from shock and disbelief to a glorious certainty.
Again Kent's brain was as clear as the day he faced death at the headof the Chute. And swift as a hot barb a fear leaped into him as hiseyes met the eyes of the girl. She was terribly changed. Her face waswhite with a whiteness that startled him. It was thin. Her eyes weregreat, slumbering pools of violet, almost black in the lamp glow, andher hair--piled high on her head as he had seen it that first day atCardigan's--added to the telltale pallor in her cheeks. A hand trembledat her throat, and its thinness frightened him. For a space--a flash ofseconds--she looked at him as if possessed of the subconscious fearthat he was not Jim Kent, and then slowly her arms opened, and shereached them out to him. She did not smile, she did not cry out, shedid not speak his name now; but her arms went round his neck as he tookher to him, and her face dropped on his breast. He looked at McTrigger.A woman was standing beside him, a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, andshe had laid a hand on McTrigger's arm, Kent, looking at them,understood.
The woman came to him. "I had better take her now, m'sieu," she said."Malcolm--will tell you. And a little later,--you may see her again."
Her voice was low and soft. At the sound of it Marette raised her head,and her two hands stole to Kent's cheeks in their old sweet way, andshe whispered,
"Kiss me, Jeems--my Jeems--kiss me--"
The Valley of Silent Men Page 26
