when hubert stane left the burning cabin, helen did not obey his injunctions to the letter. a full minute she was to wait in the shadow of the door before emerging, but she disregarded the command altogether in her anxiety to know what fate was to befall him. she guessed that on his emergence he expected a volley, and had bidden her remain under cover until the danger from it should have passed; and being morally certain that he was going to his death, she had a mad impulse to die with him in what was the supreme hour of her life. as the yell greeted his emergence, she caught the sound of the rifle-shot, and not knowing that it had been fired by stane himself, in an agony of fear for him, stepped recklessly to the door. she saw him running towards the trees, saw him grappled by the indian who barred the way, and beheld the second figure rise like a shadow by the side of the struggling men. the raised knife gleamed in the firelight, and with a sharp cry of warning that never reached stane, she started to run towards him. the next moment something thick and heavy enveloped her head and shoulders, she was tripped up and fell heavily in the snow, and two seconds later was conscious of two pairs of hands binding her with thongs. the covering over her head, a blanket by the feel of it, was bound about her, so that she could see nothing, and whilst she could still hear, the sounds that reached her were muffled. her feet were tied, and for a brief space of time she was left lying in the snow, wondering in an agonized way, not what was going to happen to herself, but what had already happened to her lover.
then there came a sound that made her heart leap with hope—a sound that was the unmistakable crack of a rifle. again the rifle spoke, three times in rapid succession, and from the sounds she conjectured that the fight was not yet over, and felt a surge of gladness in her heart. then she was lifted from the ground, suddenly hurried forward, and quite roughly dropped on what she guessed was a sledge. again hands were busy about her, and she knew that she was being lashed to the chariot of the north. there was a clamour of excited voices, again the crack of the rifle, then she felt a quick jerk, and found the sled was in motion.
she had no thought of outside intervention and as the sled went forward at a great pace, notwithstanding her own parlous condition, she rejoiced in spirit. whither she was being carried, and what the fate reserved for her she had not the slightest notion; but from the rifle-shots, and the manifest haste of her captors, she argued that her lover had escaped, and believing that he would follow, she was in good heart.
that she was in any immediate danger, she did not believe. her captors, on lashing her to the sledge, had thrown some soft warm covering over her, and that they should show such care to preserve her from the bitter cold, told her, that whatever might ultimately befall, she was in no imminent peril. with her head covered, she was as warm as if she were in a sleeping bag, the sled ran smoothly without a single jar, and the only discomfort that she suffered came from her bound limbs.
knowing how vain any attempt at struggle would be, she lay quietly; reflecting on all the events of the night. strong in the faith that stane had escaped, she rejoiced that these events had forced from his lips the declaration that in the past few weeks she had seen him repress again and again. he could never recall it; and those kisses, taken in the very face of death, those were hers until the end of time. her heart quickened as she thought of them, and her lips burned. it was, she felt, a great thing to have snatched the deepest gladness of life in such an hour, and to have received an avowal from a man who believed that he was about to die for her. and what a man!
the thought of miskodeed occurred to her; but now it did not trouble her very greatly. that visit of the indian girl to the cabin had at first been incomprehensible except on one hateful supposition; but stane's words had made it clear that the girl had come to warn them, and if there was anything behind that warning, if, as she suspected, the girl loved stane with a wild, wayward love, that was not the man's fault. she remembered his declaration that he had never seen miskodeed except on the two occasions at fort malsun, and though ainley's evil suggestions recurred to her mind, she dismissed them instantly. her lover was her own——
the sledge came to a sudden standstill; and lying there she caught a clamour of excited voices. she listened carefully, but such words as reached her were in a tongue unknown to her. a few minutes passed, something was thrown on the sled, close by her feet, then a whip cracked, a dog yelped, and again the sledge moved forward.
she was quite warm, and except for the thongs about her, comfortable, and presently her eyes closed, at first against the rather oppressive darkness resulting from the covering blanket, then remained closed without any conscious volition, and she slept, heavily and dreamlessly.
she was awakened by the sled coming to a standstill; and then followed the sounds of men pitching camp; the crackle of a fire, the growling and yelping of dogs quarrelling over their food. she did not know how long she had slept; but after awakening, it seemed a very long time before any one came near her. then she caught the sound of steps crunching the frozen snow. the steps halted by the sledge and hands busied themselves with the fastenings. a minute later she felt that her limbs were free; and as the blanket was jerked from her head, she looked round.
it was still night, but by the light of a fire by which two men were sitting smoking, she caught the sight of overhanging trees and of a man who was standing by the sledge, looking down upon her. his face was in shadow and could not be seen, but the voice in which he addressed her was harsh and guttural, his manner almost apologetic.
"you stan' up now, mees."
as the blanket was jerked from her, helen was conscious of a little prick of fear, but as the man spoke the fear vanished quicker than it had arisen. from the fact that he addressed her as miss, it was clear that he held her in some respect, whilst his manner spoke volumes. the words, though harshly spoken, were an invitation rather than a command, and accepting it as such, she first sat up, waited until a little attack of dizziness passed and then rose slowly to her feet. she swayed a little as she did so, and the man stretched a quick hand to steady her.
"vait min'te," he said, "zee seeckness et veel pass."
it passed quicker than the man knew, and as the man had moved, bringing his face to the light, helen used the opportunity to survey the man behind the mittened hand which she had lifted to her head. he was, she saw, a half-breed of evil, pock-marked countenance, with cruel eyes. who he was she had not the slightest notion, but curiosity was strong within her, and as she lowered her hand, she waited for him to speak again.
"ve vait here, leetle taime—une hour, deux, maybe tree. zee dogs dey tire. but you veel not runs away. dat vaire fool ting to do. zee wood et ees so vast, an' zee wolves are plenty. you come to zee fire an' eat."
he moved towards the fire, as if certain that she would follow, and after one glance into the deep shadows of the forest, she did so. whoever the man was, and whatever his intentions towards her, he talked sense. flight without equipment or food, in a strange country, and in face of the menace of the arctic north would be the wildest folly. she seated herself on a log which had been placed for her convenience, accepted some fried moose-meat and unsweetened tea, whilst the other two men by the fire, both indians, smoked stolidly, without bestowing upon her a single glance whilst she ate. when she had finished she pushed the tin plate from her, and looked at the half-breed, who had seated himself a yard or so away from her.
"who are you?" she asked.
"ah not tell you dat!" said the man with a grin.
"then tell me what are you going to do with me?"
"you fin' dat out for yourself in a vaire leetle taime," was the answer.
"then where are you taking me?"
"oh—ah tell you dat, mees!" was the reply, given in a manner that implied that the speaker was glad to find something in which he could oblige her. "ah tak' you to see lak' of zee leetle moose, ten, maybe douze miles away."
"but why should you take me there?" asked helen.
"non! ah not tell you dat! you fin' out all in zee good taime," was the reply stolidly given.
helen looked at the evil, cunning face, and knew that it was no use pursuing inquiries in that direction. she waited a full minute, then she began to ask another question, to her of even vaster moment:
"that man who was with me in the cabin, he——"
"sacree!" cried the half-breed in a sudden burst of fury. "dat man he ees dead, par dieu! an' eef he was not, i roast heem alive!"
"dead!" as the exclamation broke from her, the girl looked at the half-breed with eyes in which gleamed a sudden fear. then hope came to her as she remembered the shots that she had heard. "but," she protested, "he was firing on you as you left. it cannot be that he——"
"non!" broke in the half-breed. "dat man was with you he fire onlee once, den he die. dose shots dey come from zee wood, an' i not know who fire dem. eet was strange, i not know eef there be one man or more, so i run aways wit' you."
he had more to say upon that particular matter, but helen yardely had no ears for his words. her hope was completely shattered by the half-breed's explanation of those pursuing shots. from them, believing they had come from her lover's rifle, she had argued with certainty that he had survived the attack, that he was alive; and now——
dead! as the word beat in her brain, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of despair; and bowing her face suddenly in her hands gave way to her grief. great sobs shook her shoulders, and scalding tears welled in her eyes. her lover had indeed gone to his death after all, had given his life for hers as at the very beginning of their acquaintance he had risked it to the same end of saving her!
the callous half-breed was disturbed by the utter abandon of her grief. in his brutal nature there was a stirring of unusual compunction, and after watching her for a moment, he strove to console her, speaking in a wheedling voice.
"no need to weep lik' zee rain in spring, mees! what ees one man when men are as zee leaves of zee forest? dis man dead! true—but eet ees a small ting—zee death of a man. an' i tak' you to anodder man——"
"you will what?" helen looked up sharply as she asked the question. there was a light of wrath struggling with the grief in her eyes and the half-breed was startled by it.
"i tak' you to anodder man who weel lov' you as white squaws desire. he——"
"who is this man?" she asked, suddenly interrupting him.
but the half-breed developed a sudden wariness.
"non!" he said. "i not tell you dat, for why, zee surprise it veel be zee more pleasant!"
"pleasant!" cried helen, wrath uppermost in her heart once more. "pleasant! i——" she checked herself, then as something occurred to her she asked another question.
"this man whom you promise me? he pays you to bring me to him?"
"oui! he pays a great price!"
"why?"
"i not know! how can i tell what ees in zee heart of heem? but it ees in my mind dat he burns with love, dat——"
helen rose suddenly from her seat. "i will tell you something," she said in a voice that made the callous half-breed shiver. "when you bring me to this man i will kill him because that other man has died!"
"i not care what you do wid heem!" answered her captor with a brutal laugh. "you marrie heem, you keel heem, it ees all zee same to me, i get zee price, an' i do not love dat mans, no."
"tell me who is he—his name, and i will pay you double the price he promises."
the half-breed smiled cunningly. "where is your double zee price? zee price dat man pay i haf seen. eet ees real! eet ees a good price! non! mees; a promise what ees dat? a red fox in zee trap ees more dan a silvaire fox in zee wood. dis man half zee goods, an' you—what haf you?"
he lit his pipe and turned from her to the fire. helen gave him one glance and guessed that it was useless to try to bribe him further, then she turned and began to walk restlessly to and fro. there was a set, stony look of grief on her face; but deep in the grey eyes burned a light that boded ill for the man who had brought the grief upon her.
time passed, and she still marched to and fro. the half-breed was nodding over the fire, and his two companions were sound asleep. under her fur parka she felt the butt of the pistol which stane had given her, when the attack on the cabin had commenced. she looked at the three men, and with her hand on the pistol-butt the thought came to her mind that it would be a simple thing to kill them in their sleep, and to take the dogs and so effect her escape. they were murderers; they deserved to die; and she felt that she could kill them without compunction. but her eyes swept the dark circle of trees, and for a moment she stared into the darkness with fixed gaze, then her hand slipped from the pistol, and she put from her the thought that had come to her. it was not fear of the darkness or any terror at the hazards of the frozen wilderness that deterred her from the attempt; it was just that there was within her a fierce, overwhelming desire, to meet the man who was the ultimate cause of her lover's death.
when the half-breed rose, and ordered her to resume her place on the sledge, she did so without demur, making herself as comfortable as possible. she was bound to the sledge again, though, when they resumed the journey, she was less like a mere bale than she had been, and was free to lift the blanket which now was thrown over her head for protection from the extreme cold more than for any other reason. but only once before the dawn did she avail herself of this privilege to look about her, and that was when the second halt was made. she lifted the blanket to learn the cause of the delay; and made the discovery that the dog-harness having become entangled in the branch of a fallen tree, had broken and the halt was necessary for repairs. she dropped her head-covering again and lay there in the darkness, wild thoughts mingling with her grief. she chafed at the delay. her one anxiety was for the meeting that should involve a terrible justice; the man should die as her lover had died; and her own hand should inflict upon him the recompense of god.
the sullen dawn of the northern winter had broken when she lifted the blanket again. they were still in the forest, having lost the trail in the darkness, and presently a fresh halt was necessary, and whilst two of the men prepared a meal, her chief captor went off through the woods as she guessed to discover their whereabouts. he returned in the course of half an hour and said something to his companion which helen did not understand; and after a rather leisurely meal they harnessed up once more.
after a time the forest began to open out. they struck a frozen river and descending the bank and taking to its smooth surface, their speed accelerated. the banks of the river widened, and in a little time they swept clear of them on to the open plain of what she easily guessed was a frozen lake. they turned sharply to the right, and a few minutes afterwards a whirl of snow caused her to cover her face. some considerable time passed before she looked forth again. they were travelling at a great rate. the snow was flying from the shoes of the man who broke the trail. the half-breed who was acting as driver was urging the dogs with both whip and voice, and occasionally he cast an anxious look over his shoulder. wondering why he should do so helen also looked back. then her heart gave a great leap. behind them was another dog-team with two men. was it possible that after all the half-breed was mistaken, or that he had told her a lying tale?
she did not know, she could not tell, she could only hope, and her hope was fed by her captor's evident anxiety. he whipped the dogs cruelly, and his glances back became more frequent. helen also looked back and saw that the sled behind was gaining on them. was it indeed her lover in pursuit, or were these men who had witnessed the attack on the cabin, and had fired the shots which had compelled the attackers to take flight? anything now seemed possible, and as the half-breed's anxiety grew more pronounced, her own excited hopes mounted higher.
the snow came again, a blinding whirl that blotted out the whole landscape, then the half-breed gave a sharp order, and the indian in front breaking trail turned ashore. the half-breed looked back, and then forward, and gave a grunt of satisfaction. the girl also looked forward. they were approaching a tree-crowned bluff, which was apparently their goal. then suddenly, bewildering in its unexpectedness, came the flash and crack of a rifle from the bushes in shore.
"sacree!" cried the half-breed, and the next moment three rifles spoke, and he pitched over in the snow, whilst the man at the gee-pole also fell.
the man breaking the trail in front, swerved from the bluff, and the dogs swerved after him, almost upsetting the sledge. again a rifle, and the remaining man went down. the dogs, in excitement or fear, still moved forward, and helen strove to free herself, but a moment later the sledge halted abruptly as two of the dogs fell, shot in their traces. she had a momentary vision of two men running towards her from the shore, then the snow came down in a thick veil. dimly she caught the outline of one of the men by her sled, and the next moment a voice she remembered broke on her ears through the clamour of the wind.
"thank god, helen! i am in time."
and she looked up incredulously to find gerald ainley looking down at her.
