CHAPTER VII
Peter was on his way to the mystery of the bundle he had found in thejackpines.
At the foot of the ridge, where the green plain fought with theblighting edge of the Stew-Kettle, he stood for many minutes before hestarted east-ward. With keen eyes gleaming behind his mop of scragglyface-bristles he critically surveyed both land and air, and then, withthe slight limp in his gait which would always remain as a mark of JedHawkins' brutality, he trotted deliberately in the direction of thewhiskey-runner's cabin home.
A bitter memory of Jed Hawkins flattened his ears when he came near therock-cluttered coulee in which he had fought for Nada, and had sufferedhis broken bones, and today--even as he obeyed the instinctive cautionto stop and listen--Jed Hawkins himself came out of the mouth of thecoulee, bearing a brown jug in one hand and a thick cudgel in the other.His one wicked eye gleamed in the waning sun. His lean and scraggly facewas alight with a sinister exultation as he paused for a moment close tothe rock behind which Peter was hidden, and Peter's fangs lay bare andhis body trembled while the man stood there. Then he moved on, and Peterdid not stir, but waited until the jug and the cudgel and the man wereout of sight.
Low under his breath he was snarling when he went on. Hatred, for amoment, had flamed hot in his soul. Then he turned, and buried himselfin a clump of balsams that reached out into the plain, and a few momentslater came to the edge of a tiny meadow in the heart of them, where awarbler was bursting its throat in evening-song.
Around the edge of the meadow Peter circled, his feet deep in buttercupsand red fire-flowers, and crushing softly ripe strawberries that grewin scarlet profusion in the open, until he came to a screen of youngjackpines, and through these he quietly and apologetically nosed hisway. Then he stood wagging his tail, with Nada sitting on the grasshalf a dozen steps from him, wiping the strawberry stain from herfinger-tips. And the stain was on her red lips, and a bit of it againstthe flush of her cheek, as she gave a little cry of gladness andgreeting to Peter. Her eyes flashed beyond him, and every drop ofblood in her slim, beautiful little body seemed to be throbbing with anexcitement new to Peter as she looked for Jolly Roger.
Peter went to her, and dropped down, with his head in her lap, andlooking up through his bushy eye-brows he saw a livid bruise just underthe ripples of her brown hair, where there had been no mark yesterday,or the day before. Nada's hands drew him closer, until he was half inher lap, and she bent her face down to him, so that her thick, shininghair fell all about him. Peter loved her hair, almost as much as JollyRoger loved it, and he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath of contentas the smothering sweetness of it shut out the sunlight from him.
"Peter," she whispered, "I'm almost scared to have him come today. I'vepromised him. You remember--I promised to tell him if Jed Hawkins struckme again. And he has! He made that mark, and if Jolly Roger knows ithe'll kill him. I've got to lie--lie--"
Peter wriggled, to show his interest, and his hard tail thumped theground. For a space Nada said nothing more, and he could hear and feelthe beating of her heart close down against him. Then she raised herhead, and looked in the direction from which she would first hear JollyRoger as he came through the young jackpines. Peter, with his eyes halfclosed in a vast contentment, did not see or sense the change in hertoday--that her blue eyes were brighter, her cheeks flushed, and in herbody a strange and subdued throbbing that had never been there before.Not even to Peter did she whisper her secret, but waited and listenedfor Jolly Roger, and when at last she heard him and he came throughthe screen of jackpines, the color in her cheeks was like the stain ofstrawberries crimsoning her finger-tips. In an instant, looking downupon her, Jolly Roger saw what Peter had not discovered, and he stoppedin his tracks, his heart thumping like a hammer inside him. Never, evenin his dreams, had the girl looked lovelier than she did now, and neverhad her eyes met his eyes as they met them today, and never had her redlips said as much to him, without uttering a word. In the same instanthe saw the livid bruise, half hidden under her hair--and then he saw abig bundle behind her, partly screened by a dwarfed banksian. After thathis eyes went back to the bruise.
"Jed Hawkins didn't do it," said Nada, knowing what was in his mind. "Itwas Jed's woman. And you can't kill her!" she added a little defiantly.
Jolly Roger caught the choking throb in her throat, and he knew she waslying. But Nada thrust Peter from her lap, and stood up, and she seemedtaller and more like a woman than ever before in her life as she facedJolly Roger there in the tiny open, with violets and buttercups and redstrawberries in the soft grass under their feet. And behind them, andvery near, a rival to the warbler in the meadow began singing. But Nadadid not hear. The color had rushed hot into her cheeks at first, but nowit was fading out as swiftly, and her hands trembled, clasped in frontof her. But the blue in her eyes was as steady as the blue in the sky asshe looked at Jolly Roger.
"I'm not going back to Jed Hawkins' any more, Mister Roger," she said.
A soft breath of wind lifted the tress of hair from her forehead,revealing more clearly the mark of Jed Hawkins' brutality, and Nada sawgathering in Jolly Roger's eyes that cold, steely glitter which alwaysfrightened her when it came. His hands clenched, and when she reachedout and touched his arm the flesh of it was as hard as white birch. Evenin her fear there was glory in the thought that at a word from her hewould kill the man who had struck her. Her fingers crept up his arm,timidly, and the blue in her eyes darkened, and there was a pleadingtremble in the curve of her lips as she looked straight at him.
"I'm not going back," she repeated.
Jolly Roger, looking beyond her, saw the significance of the bundle.His eyes met her steady gaze again, and his heart seemed to swell in hischest, and choke him. He tried to let his tense muscles relax. He triedto smile. He struggled to bring up the courage which would make possiblethe confession he had to make. And Peter, sitting on his haunches in apatch of violets, watched them both, wondering what was going to happenbetween these two.
"Where are you going?" Jolly Roger asked.
Nada's fingers had crept almost to his shoulder. They were twisting athis flannel shirt nervously, but not for the tenth part of a second didshe drop her eyes, and that strange, wonderful something which he sawlooking at him so clearly out of her soul brought the truth to JollyRoger, before she had spoken.
"I'm goin' with you and Peter."
The low cry that came from Jolly Roger was almost a sob as he steppedback from her. He looked away from her--at Peter. But her pale face, herparted red lips, her wide-open, wonderful eyes, her radiant hair stirredby the wind--came between them. She was no longer the little girl--"pastseventeen, goin' on eighteen." To Jolly Roger she was all that the worldheld of glorious womanhood.
"But--you can't!" he cried desperately. "I've come to tell you things,Nada. I'm not fit. I'm not what you think I am. I've been livin' alie--"
He hesitated, and then lashed himself on to the truth.
"You'll hate me when I tell you, Nada. You think Jed Hawkins is bad.But the law thinks I'm worse. The police want me. They've wanted mefor years. That's why I came down here, and hid over in Indian Tom'scabin--near where I first met you. I thought they wouldn't find me awaydown here, but they did. That's why Peter and I moved over to the bigrock-pile at the end of the Ridge. I'm--an outlaw. I've done a lot ofbad things--in the eyes of the law, and I'll probably die with a bulletin me, or in jail. I'm sorry, but that don't help. I'd give my lifeto be able to tell you what's in my heart. But I can't. It wouldn't besquare."
He wondered why no change came into the steady blue of her eyes as hewent on with the truth. The pallor was gone from her cheeks. Her lipsseemed redder, and what he was saying did not seem to startle her, orfrighten her.
"Don't you understand, Nada?" he cried. "I'm bad. The police want me.I'm a fugitive--always running away, always hiding--an outlaw--"
She nodded.
"I know it, Mister Roger," she said quietly. "I heard you tell Peterthat a long time ago. A
nd Mister Cassidy was at our place the day afteryou and Peter ran away from Indian Tom's cabin, and I showed him theway to Father John's, and he told me a lot about you, and he told FatherJohn a lot more, and it made me awful proud of you, Mister Roger--and Iwant to go with you and Peter!"
"Proud!" gasped Jolly Roger. "Proud, of ME--"
She nodded again.
"Mister Cassidy--the policeman--he used just the word you used a minuteago. He said you was square, even when you robbed other people. He saidhe had to get you in jail if he could, but he hoped he never would. Hesaid he'd like to have a man like you for a brother. And Peter lovesyou. And I--"
The color came into her white face.
"I'm goin' with you and Peter," she finished.
Something came to relieve the tenseness of the moment for Jolly Roger.Peter, nosing in a thick patch of bunch-grass, put out a huge snowshoerabbit, and the two crashed in a startling avalanche through the youngjackpines, Peter's still puppyish voice yelling in a high staccato as hepursued. Jolly Roger turned from Nada, and stared where they had gone.But he was seeing nothing. He knew the hour of his mightiest fight hadcome. In the reckless years of his adventuring he had more than oncefaced death. He had starved. He had frozen. He had run the deadliestgantlets of the elements, of beast, and of man. Yet was the strife inhim now the greatest of all his life. His heart thumped. His brain wasswirling in a vague and chaotic struggle for the mastery of things, andas he fought with himself--his unseeing eyes fixed on the spot wherePeter and the snowshoe rabbit had disappeared--he heard Nada's voicebehind him, saying again that she was going with him and Peter. In thoseseconds he felt himself giving way, and the determined action hehad built up for himself began to crumble like sand. He had made hisconfession and in spite of it this young girl he worshipped--sweeter andpurer than the flowers of the forest--was urging herself upon him! Andhis soul cried out for him to turn about, and open his arms to her, andgather her into them for as long as God saw fit to give him freedom andlife.
But still he fought against that mighty urge, dragging reason and rightback fragment by fragment, while Nada stood behind him, her wide-open,childishly beautiful eyes beginning to comprehend the struggle that wasdisrupting the heart of this man who was an outlaw--and her god amongmen. And when Jolly Roger turned, his face had aged to the grayness ofstone, and his eyes were dull, and there was a terribly dead note in hisvoice.
"You can't go with us," he said. "You can't. It's wrong--all wrong. Icouldn't take care of you in jail, and some day--that's where I'll be."
More than once when she had spoken of Jed Hawkins he had seen the swiftflash of lightning come into the violet of her eyes. And it came now,and her little hands grew tight at her sides, and bright spots burned inher cheeks.
"You won't!" she cried. "I won't let you go to jail. I'll fight foryou--if you'll let me go with you and Peter!"
She came a step nearer.
"And if I stay here Jed Hawkins is goin' to sell me to a tie-cutterover on the railroad. That's what it is--sellin' me. I ain't--I meanI haven't--told you before, because I was afraid of what you'd do.But it's goin' to happen, unless you let me go with you and Peter. Oh,Mister Roger--Mister Jolly Roger--"
Her fingers crept up his arms. They reached his shoulders, and her blueeyes, and her red lips, and the woman's soul in her girl-body were soclose to him he could feel their sweetness and thrill, and then he saw aslow-gathering mist, and tears--
"I'll go wherever you go," she was whispering, "And we'll hide wherethey won't ever find us, and I'll be happy, so happy, Mister Roger--andif you won't take me I want to die. Oh--"
She was crying, with her head on his breast, and her slim, half barearms around his neck, and Jolly Roger listened like a miser to thechoking words that came with her sobs. And where there had been tumultand indecision in his heart there came suddenly the clearness ofsunshine and joy, and with it the happiness of a new and mightypossession as his arms closed about her, and he turned her face up,so that for the first time he kissed the soft red lips that for someinscrutable reason the God of all things had given into his keeping thisday.
And then, holding her close, with her arms still tighter about his neck,he cried softly,
"I'm goin' to take you, little girl. You're goin' with Peter and me, forever--and ever. And we'll go--tonight!"
When Peter came back, just in the last sunset glow of the evening, hefound his master alone in the bit of jackpine opening, and Nada wasswiftly crossing the larger meadow that lay between them and the breakin Cragg's Ridge, beyond which was Jed Hawkins' cabin. It was not thesame Jolly Roger whom he had left half an hour before. It was not theman of the hiding-place in the rock-pile. Jolly Roger McKay, standingthere in the last soft glow of the day, was no longer the fugitive andthe outcast. He stood with silent lips, yet his soul was crying out itsgratitude to all that God of Life which breathed its sweetness of summerevening about him. He was the First Possessor of the earth. In thathour, that moment, he would not have sold his place for all thehappiness of all the remaining people in the world. He cried outaloud, and Peter, squatted at his feet with his red tongue lolling out,listened to him.
"She is mine, mine, mine," he was saying, and he repeated that word overand over, until Peter quirked his ears, and wondered what it meant. Andthen, seeing Peter, Jolly Roger laughed softly, and bent over him, witha look of awe and wonderment mingling with the happiness in his face.
"She's mine--ours," he cried boyishly. "God A'mighty took a hand,Pied-Bot, and she's going with us! We're going tonight, when the mooncomes up. And Peter--Peter--we're going straight to the Missioner's, andhe'll marry us, and then we'll hit for a place where no one in the worldwill ever find us. The law may want us, Pied-Bot, but God--this God allaround--is good to us. And we'll try and pay Him back. We will, Peter!"
He straightened himself, and faced the west. Then he picked up thebundle Nada had brought, and dived through the jackpines, with Peter athis heels. Swiftly they moved through the shadowing dusk of the plain,and came at last to the Stew-Kettle, and to their hiding-place underthe shoulders of Gog and Magog. There was still a faint twilight in thetunnel, and in this twilight Jolly Roger McKay packed his possessions;and then, with fingers that trembled as if they were committing asacrilege, he drew Nada's few treasures from her bundle and placed themtenderly with his own. And all the time Peter heard him saying thingsunder his breath, so softly that it was like the whispered drone ofsong.
In darkness they went down through the rocks to the plain, and half anhour later they came to the break in the Ridge, and went through it,and stopped in the black shadow of a great rock, with Jed Hawkins' cabinhalf a rifle-shot away. Here Nada was to come to them with the firstrising of the moon.
It was very still all about, and Peter sensed a significance in thesilence, and lay very quietly watching the light in the cabin, and theshadowy form of his master. Also he knew that somewhere in the distancea storm was gathering. The breath of it was in the air, though the skywas clear of cloud overhead, except for the haze of a gray and ghostlymist that lay between them and the yellow stars. Jolly Roger counted theseconds between then and moonrise. It seemed hours before the goldenrim of it rose in the east. Shadows grew swiftly after that. Grotesquethings took shape. The rock-caps of the ridge began to light up, liketimid signal-fires. Black spruce and balsam and cedar glistened asif bathed in enamel. And the moon came on, and mellow floods of lightplayed in the valleys and plains, and danced over the forest-tops, andin voice-less and soundless miracle called upon all living things tolook upon the glory of God. In his soul Jolly Roger McKay felt the urgeand the call of that voiceless Master Power, and through his lips camean unconscious whisper of prayer--of gratitude.
And he watched the light in Jed Hawkins' cabin, and strained his ears tohear a sound of footsteps coming through the moonlight.
But there was no change. The light did not move. A door did not open orclose. There was no sound, except the growing whisper of the wind, thecall of a night bird, an
d the howl of the old gray wolf that alwayscried out to the moon from the tangled depths of Indian Tom's swamp.
A thrill of nervousness swept through Jolly Roger. He waited half anhour, three-quarters, an hour--after the moon had risen. And Nadadid not come. The nervousness grew in him, and he moved out intothe moon-glow, and slowly and watchfully followed the edge of therock-shadows until he came to the fringe of cedars and spruce behindthe cabin. Peter, careful not to snap a twig under his paws, followedclosely. They came to the cabin, and there--very distinctly--Jolly RogerMcKay heard the low moaning of a voice.
He edged his way to the window, and looked in.
Crouched beside a chair in the middle of the floor was Jed Hawkins'swoman. She was moaning, and her thin body was rocking back and forth,and with her hands clasped at her bony breast she was staring at theopen door. With a shock Jolly Roger saw that except for the strangelycrying old woman the cabin was empty. Sudden fear chilled his blood--afear that scarcely took form before he was at the door, and in thecabin. The woman's eyes were red and wild as she stared at him, and shestopped her moaning, and her hands unclasped. Jolly Roger went nearerand bent over her and shivered at the half-mad terror he saw in herface.
"Where is Nada?" he demanded. "Tell me--where is she?"
"Gone, gone, gone," crooned the woman, clutching her hands at her breastagain. "Jed has taken her--taken her to Mooney's shack, over near therailroad. Oh, my God!--I tried to keep her, but I couldn't. He draggedher away, and tonight he's sellin' her to Mooney--the devil--the blackbrute--the tie-cutter--"
She choked, and began rocking herself back and forth, and the moaningcame again from her thin lips. Fiercely McKay gripped her by theshoulder.
"Mooney's shack--where?" he cried. "Quick! Tell me!"
"A thousand--a thousand--he's givin' a thousand dollars to git her inthe shack--alone," she cried in a dull, sing-song voice. "The road outthere leads straight to it. Near the railroad. A mile. Two miles. Itried to keep him from doin' it, but I couldn't--I couldn't--"
Jolly Roger heard no more. He was out of the door, and running acrossthe open, with Peter racing close behind him. They struck the road, andJolly Roger swung into it, and continued to run until the breath was outof his lungs. And all that time the things Nada had told him about JedHawkins and the tie-cutter were rushing madly through his brain. Anhour or two ago, when the words had come from her lips in the jackpinethicket, he had believed that Nada was frightened, that a distorted fearpossessed her, that such a thing as she had half confessed to himwas too monstrous to happen. And now he cried out aloud, a groaning,terrible cry as he went on. Hawkins and Nada had reached Mooney's shacklong before this, a shack buried deep in the wilderness, a shack fromwhich no cries could be heard--
Peter, trotting behind, whined at what he heard in Jolly Roger McKay'spanting voice. And the moon shone on them as they staggered and ran,and here and there dark clouds were racing past the face of it, and theslumberous whisper of storm grew nearer in the air. And then came thetime when one of the dark clouds rode under the moon and the two ran onin darkness. The cloud passed, and the moon flooded the road again withlight--and suddenly Jolly Roger stopped in his tracks, and his heartalmost broke in the strain of that moment.
Ahead of them, staggering toward them, sobbing as she came, was Nada.Jolly Roger's blazing eyes saw everything in that vivid light of themoon. Her hair was tangled and twisted about her shoulders and over herbreast. One arm was bare where the sleeve had been torn away, and hergirlish breast gleamed white where her waist had been stripped half fromher body. And then she saw Jolly Roger in the trail, with wide-open,reaching arms, and with a cry such as Peter had never heard come fromher lips before she ran into them, and held up her face to him in theyellow moon-light. In her eyes--great, tearless, burning pools--he sawthe tragedy and yet it was only that, and not horror, not despair, NOTthe other thing. His arms closed crushingly about her. Her slim bodyseemed to become a part of him. Her hot lips reached up and clung tohis.
And then,
"Did--he get you--to--Mooney's shack--" He felt her body stiffen againsthim.
"No," she panted. "I fought--every inch. He dragged me, and hit me, andtore my clothes--but I fought. And up there--in the trail--he turnedhis back for a moment, when he thought I was done, and I hit him with aclub. And he's there, now, on his back--"
She did not finish. Jolly Roger thrust her out from him, arm's length. Acloud under the moon hid his face. But his voice was low, and terrible.
"Nada, go to the Missioner's as fast as you can," he said, fighting tospeak coolly. "Take Peter--and go. You will make it before the stormbreaks. I am going back to have a few words with Jed Hawkins--alone.Then I will join you, and the Missioner will marry us--"
The cloud was gone, and he saw joy and radiance in her face. Fear haddisappeared. Her eyes were luminous with the golden glow of the night.Her red lips were parted, entreating him with the lure of their purityand love, and for a moment he held her close in his arms again, kissingher as he might have kissed an angel, while her little hands stroked hisface, and she laughed softly and strangely in her happiness--the wonderof a woman's soul rising swiftly out of the sweetness of her girlhood.
And then Jolly Roger set her firmly in the direction she was to go.
"Hurry, little girl," he said. "Hurry--before the storm breaks!"
She went, calling Peter softly, and Jolly Roger strode down the trail,not once looking back, and bent only upon the vengeance he would thisnight wreak upon the two lowest brutes in creation. Never before had hefelt the desire to kill. But he felt that desire now. Before the nightwas much older he would do unto Hawkins and Mooney as Hawkins had doneunto Peter. He would leave them alive, but broken and crippled andforever punished.
And then he stumbled over something in another darkening of the moon. Hestopped, and the light came again, and he looked down into the upturnedface of Jed Hawkins. It was a distorted and twisted face, and its oneeye was closed. The body did not move. And close to the head was theclub which Nada had used.
Jolly Roger laughed grimly. Fate was kind to him in making a half of hiswork so easy. But he wanted Hawkins to rouse himself first. Roughly hestirred him with the toe of his boot.
"Wake up, you fiend," he said. "I'm going to break your bones, yourarms, your legs, just as you broke Peter--and that poor old woman backin the cabin. Wake up!"
Jed Hawkins made no stir. He was strangely limp. For many seconds JollyRoger stood looking down at him, his eyes growing wider, more staring.Darkness came again. It was an inky blackness this time, like ablotter over the world. Low thunder came out of the west. The tree-topswhispered in a frightened sort of way. And Jolly Roger could hear hisheart beating. He dropped upon his knees, and his hands moved over JedHawkins. For a space not even Peter could have heard his movement or hisbreath.
In the ebon darkness he rose to his feet, and the night--lifelesslystill for a moment--heard the one choking word that came from his lips.
"Dead!"
And there he stood, the heat of his rage changing to an icy chill, hisheart dragging within him like a chunk of lead, his breath choking inhis throat. Jed Hawkins was dead! He was growing stiff there in theblack trail. He had ceased to breathe. He had ceased to be a part oflife. And the wind, rising a little with the coming of storm, seemed towhisper and chortle over the horrible thing, and the lone wolf in IndianTom's swamp howled weirdly, as if he smelled death.
Jolly Roger McKay's finger-nails dug into the flesh of his palms. If hehad killed the human viper at his feet, if his own hands had meted outhis punishment, he would not have felt the clammy terror that wrappeditself about him in the darkness. But he had come too late. It was Nadawho had killed Jed Hawkins. Nada, with her woman's soul just born inall its glory, had taken the life of her foster-father. And Canadian lawknew no excuse for killing.
The chill crept to his finger-tips, and unconsciously, in a childishsort of way, he sobbed between his clenched teeth. The thunder wasrolling nearer, and
it was like a threatening voice, a deep-tonedbooming of a thing inevitable and terrible. He felt the air shiveringabout him, and suddenly something moved softly against his foot, and heheard a questioning whine. It was Peter--come back to him in this hourwhen he needed a living thing to give him courage. With a groan hedropped on his knees again, and clutched his hands about Peter.
"My God," he breathed huskily. "Peter, she's killed him. And she mustn'tknow. We mustn't let anyone know--"
And there he stopped, and Peter felt him growing rigid as stone, and formany moments Jolly Roger's body seemed as lifeless as that of the manwho lay with up-turned face in the trail. Then he fumbled in a pocketand found a pencil and an old envelope. And on the envelope, with thedarkness so thick he could not see his hand, he scribbled, "I killedJed Hawkins," and after that he signed his name firmly and fully--"JollyRoger McKay."
Then he tucked the envelope under Jed Hawkins' body, where the raincould not get at it. And after that, to make the evidence complete, hecovered the dead man's face with his coat.
"We've got to do it, Peter," he said, and there was a new note in hisvoice as he stood up on his feet again. "We've got to do it--for her.We'll--tell her we caught Jed Hawkins in the trail and killed him."
Caution, cleverness, his old mental skill returned to him. He draggedthe boot-legger's body to a new spot, turned it face down, threw theclub away, and kicked up the earth with his boots to give signs of astruggle.
The note in his voice was triumph--triumph in spite of itsheartbreak--as he turned back over the trail after he had finished, andspoke to Peter.
"We may have done some things we oughtn't to, Pied-Bot," he said, "buttonight I sort o' think we've tried to make--restitution. And if theyhang us, which they probably will some time, I sort o' think it'll makeus happy to know we've done it--for her. Eh, Pied-Bot?"
And the moon sailed out for a space, and shone on the dead whitenessof Jolly Roger's face. And on the lips of that face was a strange, coldsmile, a smile of mastery, of exaltation, and the eyes were lookingstraight ahead--the eyes of a man who had made his sacrifice for a thingmore precious to him than his God.
Only now and then did the moon gleam through the slow-moving masses ofblack cloud when he came to the edge of the Indian settlement clearingthree miles away, where stood the cabin of the Missioner. The storm hadnot broken, but seemed holding back its forces for one mighty onslaughtupon the world. The thunder was repressed, and the lightning held inleash, with escaping flashes of it occasionally betraying the impendingambuscades of the sky.
The clearing itself was a blot of stygian darkness, with a yellow patchof light in the center of it--the window of the Missioner's cabin. AndJolly Roger stood looking at it for a space, as a carven thing of rockmight have stared. His heart was dead. His soul crushed. His dreambroken. There remained only his brain, his mind made up, his worship forthe girl--a love that had changed from a thing of joy to a fire of agonywithin him. Straight ahead he looked, knowing there was only one thingfor him to do. And only one. There was no alternative. No hope. Nochange of fortune that even the power of God might bring about. What layahead of him was inevitable.
After all, there is something unspeakable in the might and glory ofdying for one's country--or for a great love. And Jolly Roger McKay feltthat strength as he strode through the blackness, and knocked at thedoor, and went in to face Nada and the little old gray-haired Missionerin the lampglow.
Swift as one of the flashes of lightning in the sky the anxiety and fearhad gone out of Nada's face, and in an instant it was flooded with thejoy of his coming. She did not mark the strange change in him, butwent to him as she had gone to him in the trail, and Jolly Roger's armsclosed about her, but gently this time, and very tenderly, as he mighthave held a little child he was afraid of hurting. Then she felt thechill of his lips as she pressed her own to them. Startled, she lookedup into his eyes. And as he had done in the trail, so now Jolly Rogerstood her away from him, and faced the Missioner. In a cold, hard voicehe told what had happened to Nada that evening, and of the barbarouseffort Jed Hawkins had made to sell her to Mooney. Then, from a pocketinside his shirt, he drew out a small, flat leather wallet, and thrustit in the little Missioner's hand.
"There's close to a thousand dollars in that," he said. "It's mine. AndI'm giving it to you--for Nada. I want you to keep her, and care forher, and mebby some day--"
With both her hands Nada clutched his arm. Her eyes had widened. Swiftpallor had driven the color from her face, and a broken cry was in hervoice.
"I'm goin' with you," she protested. "I'm goin' with you--and Peter!"
"You can't--now," he said. "I've got to go alone, Nada. I went back--andI killed Jed Hawkins."
Over the roof of the cabin rolled a crash of thunder. As the explosionof it rocked the floor under their feet, Jolly Roger pointed to a door,and said,
"Father, if you will leave us alone--just a minute--"
White-faced, clutching the wallet, the little gray Missioner nodded, andwent to the door, and as he opened it and entered into the darkness ofthe other room he saw Jolly Roger McKay open wide his arms, and the girlgo into them. After that the storm broke. The rain descended in a delugeupon the cabin roof. The black night was filled with the rumble and roarand the hissing lightning-flare of pent-up elements suddenly freed ofbondage. And in the darkness and tumult the Missioner stood, a littlegray man of tragedy, of deeply buried secrets, a man of prayer and offaith in God--his heart whispering for guidance and mercy as he waited.The minutes passed. Five. Ten. And then there came a louder roaring ofthe storm, shut off quickly, and the little Missioner knew that a doorwas opened--and closed.
He lifted the latch, and looked out again into the lampglow. Huddledat the side of a chair on the floor, her arms and face buried in thelustrous, disheveled mass of her shining hair--lay Nada, and closebeside her was Peter. He went to her. Tenderly he knelt down beside her.His thin arm went about her, and as the storm raved and shrieked abovethem he tried to comfort her--and spoke of God.
And through that storm, his head bowed, his heart gone, went Jolly RogerMcKay--heading north.
The Country Beyond: A Romance of the Wilderness Page 7
