The Fur Bringers - Footner Hulbert

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course, Eva Lajeunesse, I remember now," said Gaviller. "She was quite famous around Caribou Lake some years ago."

      Ambrose with an effort kept his temper. "She has made him a good wife," he said loyally.

      "Ah, no doubt!" said Gaviller affably. "Do you live with them?"

      "I have my own house," said Ambrose stiffly.

      Here Colina made haste to create a diversion.

      "Aren't the Indian kids comical little souls?" she remarked. "I go to the mission school sometimes to sing and play for them. They don't think much of it. One of the girls asked me for a hair. One hair was all she wanted."

      The subject of Indian children proved to be innocuous. They took coffee in John Gaviller's library.

      "Colina brought these new-fangled notions in with her," said her father.

      "They're all right!" said Ambrose soberly.

      Colina saw the hand that held his spoon tremble slightly, and wondered why. The fact was the thought could not but occur to him: "How foolish for me to think she could ever bring her lovely, ladylike ways to my little shack!"

      He thrust the unnerving thought away. "I can build a bigger house, can't I?" he demanded of himself. "Anyway, I'll make the best play to get her that I can!"

      In the library they talked about furniture. It transpired that the trader had a passion for cabinet making, and most of the objects that surrounded them were examples of his skill. Ambrose admired them with due politeness, meanwhile his heart was sinking. He could not see the slightest chance of getting a word alone with Colina.

      In the middle of the evening a breed came to the door, hat in hand, to say that John Gaviller's Hereford bull was lying down in his stall and groaning. The trader bit his lip and glanced at Colina.

      "Would you like to come and see my beasts?" he asked affably.

      "Thanks," said Ambrose just as politely. "I'm no hand with cattle."

       He kept his eyes discreetly down.

      Gaviller could not very well turn him out of the house. There was no help for it. He went.

       Table of Contents

      TWO INTERVIEWS.

      The instant the door closed behind Gaviller, Ambrose's eyes flamed up.

       "What a stroke of luck!" he cried.

      It had something the effect of an explosion there in the quiet room where they had been talking so prosily. Colina became panicky. "I don't understand you!" she said haughtily.

      "You do!" he cried. "You know I didn't paddle three hundred miles up-stream to talk to him! Never in my life had I anything so hard to go through with as the last two hours. I didn't dare look at you for fear of giving myself away."

      There was an extraordinary quality of passion in the simple words. Colina felt faint and terrified. What was one to do with a man like this! She mounted her queenliest manner. "Don't make me sorry I asked you here," she said.

      "Sorry?" he said. "Why should you be? You can do what you like! I can't pretend. I must say my say the best way I can. I may not get another chance!"

      Colina had to fight both herself and him. She made a gallant stand. "You are ridiculous!" she said. "I will leave the room until my father comes back if you can't contain yourself."

      He was plainly terrified by the threat, nevertheless he had the assurance to put himself between her and the door.

      "You have no cause to be angry with me," he said. "You know I do not disrespect you!" He was silent for a moment. His voice broke huskily. "You are wonderful to me! I have to keep telling myself you are only a woman—of flesh and blood like myself—else I would be groveling on the floor at your feet, and you would despise me!"

      Colina stared at him in haughty silence.

      "I love you!" he whispered with odd abruptness. "No woman need be insulted by hearing that. You came upon me to-day like a bolt of lightning. You have put your mark on me for life! I will never be myself again."

      His voice changed; he faltered, and searched for words. "I know I'm rough! I know women like to be courted regularly. It's right, too! But I have no time! I may never see you alone again. Your father will take care of that! I must tell you while I can. You can take your time to answer."

      Colina contrived to laugh.

      The sound maddened him. He took a step forward, and a vein in his forehead stood out. She held her ground disdainfully.

      "Don't do that!" he whispered. "It's not fair! I—I can't stand it!"

      "Why must you tell me?" asked Colina. "What do you expect?"

      "You!" he whispered hoarsely. "If God is good to me! For life."

      "You are mad!" she murmured.

      "Maybe," he said, eying her with the resentment which is so closely akin to love; "but I think you understand my madness. Talking gets us nowhere. A dozen times to-day your eyes answered mine. Either you feel it too or you are a coquette!"

      This brought a genuine anger to Colina's aid. Her weakness fled. "How dare you!" she cried with blazing eyes.

      "Coquette!" he repeated doggedly. "To dress yourself up like that to drive me mad!"

      Colina forgot the social amenities. "You fool!" she cried. "This is my ordinary way of dressing at night! It is not for you!"

      "It was for me!" he said sullenly. "You were happy when you saw its effect on me! If it's only a game I can't play it with you. It means too much to me!"

      "Coquette!" still made a clangor in Colina's brain that deafened her to everything else. "You are a savage!" she cried. "I'm sorry I asked you here. You needn't wait for my father to come back. Go!"

      "Not without a plain answer!" he said.

      Colina tried to laugh; she was too angry. "My answer is no!" she cried with outrageous scorn. "Now go!"

      He stood studying her from under lowering brows. The sight of her like that—head thrown back, eyes glittering, cheeks scarlet, and lips curled—was like a lash upon his manhood. The answer was plain enough, but an instinct from the great mother herself bade him disregard it. Suddenly his eyes flamed up.

      "You beauty!" he cried.

      Before she could move he had seized her in her finery. Colina was no weakling, but within those steely arms she was helpless. She strained away her head. He could only reach her neck, under the ear. She yielded shudderingly.

      "I hate you! I hate you!" she murmured.

      Their lips met.

      Colina swayed ominously on his arm. She sank down on the sofa, still straining away from him, but weakly. Suddenly she burst into passionate weeping.

      "What have you done to me!" she murmured.

      At sight of the tears he collapsed. "Ah, don't!" he whispered brokenly. "You break my heart! My darling love! What is the matter?"

      "I am a fool—a fool!—a fool!" she sobbed tempestuously. "To have given in to you! You will despise me!"

      He slipped to the floor at her feet. He strove desperately to comfort her. Tenderness lent eloquence to his clumsy, unaccustomed tongue.

      "Ah, don't say that! It's like sticking a knife in me! My lovely one! As if I could! You are everything to me! I have nothing in the world but you! Forgive me for being so rough! I couldn't help it! I couldn't go by anything you said. I had to find out for sure! It had to happen! What does it matter whether it was in a

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