The Promise Page 32

  CHAPTER XXXI

  THE ROBE OF DIABLESSE

  It required three days of hard labor to remove the fifty-two bird's-eyemaple logs to a position of safety. Jacques made a trip to the logcamp, returning with a stout rope and an armload of baling wire whichhe collected from the vicinity of the stables.

  The fact that bird's-eye maple logs, when green, will sink in water,rendered necessary the use of two large pine logs as floats. These wereconnected at the ends and in the middle with rope sufficiently long topermit four of the heavier logs to rest upon the ropes between thefloats.

  The raft thus formed was laboriously towed up-stream to the eddy wherethe bird's-eye logs were wired together, weighted with stones, andallowed to sink.

  During the whole time Jeanne worked tirelessly by the side of the men,and when the last log rested safely upon the bottom of the river, andthe scars were carefully removed from the bank, Bill surveyed theresult with satisfaction.

  "I think that will keep Moncrossen guessing," he laughed. "He won'tknow whether Creed ate the logs or an air-ship made away with them."

  "But, he will know they are _somewhere_," said Jeanne gravely, "and hewill search for them far and wide."

  "He will not find them," Jacques interrupted. "No man would searchup-stream for logs, even though he believed them to be upon the bottomof the river."

  "But, in the searching, he may come upon the lodge, and in his rage,who can tell what he would do?" Bill's eyes narrowed, and he answeredthe girl with a smile.

  "I will remain, and if Moncrossen comes----"

  The girl laid a small hand upon his arm and looked into his eyes.

  "I am but a girl and know nothing of logs, but, is it not better thathe return down the river without searching?"

  Carmody smiled into the serious dark eyes. "Go on, Jeanne," he said,"tell us what you would do."

  "It is simple--only to build a big fire upon the spot where the logswere piled, and when Moncrossen finds the ashes he will seek no fartherfor his logs."

  "Great!" cried Bill, in undisguised admiration and, with the help ofthe others, proceeded to carry the plan into effect. All night theypiled fuel upon the fire, and in the morning their efforts wererewarded by a pile of ashes that would easily be mistaken for the ruinsof the bird's-eye rollway.

  With the passing of the long, hot days of summer, Bill Carmody regainedhis strength, and yet he lingered in the camp of the Lacombies.

  Creed was seen no more upon Blood River, and Bill assumed theresponsibility of guarding the log camp, making for the purpose almostdaily excursions with Jeanne or Jacques.

  August mellowed into smoky September--September gave place to the redand gold of October, and the blood of the forest folk quickened to thetang of the North.

  At the conclusion of one of these tours of inspection, Bill camesuddenly upon the girl standing in awe before the skin of Diablesse,which remained where he and Fallon had nailed it on the wall of thebunk-house. Bill carefully removed the nails and laid the dry pelt atthe feet of the girl.

  "See," he said, "the skin of the werwolf--it is yours."

  "Mine!" she cried, with shining eyes. "You would give me _this_!"

  Bill smiled. "Yes, that is all I have, here in the woods. But when Ireturn I will bring you many things from the land of the white men."

  "The robe of Diablesse!" she breathed softly, as she gazed down uponthe peculiar silvery sheen of the great white wolfskin. "I had ratheryou gave me this than anything else in the world."

  She stopped in sudden confusion.

  "And why?" questioned Bill, pleased at her evident delight.

  "It is," she hesitated, and a slender hand clutched at her breast. "Itis as you spoke of the hunting shirt--that you would always keep itbecause it is the work of my hands. Only the robe means much more, for,among men but one man could have slain the _loup-garou_, and in all theNorth there is none like it--the robe of Diablesse! and it shall bringus luck--and--and happiness?" she added, the rich voice melting tosoftness.

  At the words the man glanced quickly into the face of the girl andencountered the shy, questioning gaze of the mysterious dark eyes. Thegaze did not falter, and the deep, lustrous eyes held the manenthralled in their liquid depths. She advanced a step, and stood herlithe young body almost touching his own, holding him fascinated in thecompelling gaze of the limpid eyes.

  "And happiness?" The words were a whispered breath; the bronzed face ofthe man paled and, with an effort, he turned swiftly away.

  "Luck! Happiness!" he repeated dully, with bowed head. "For me therecan be no happiness."

  With a low cry the girl was at his side and two tiny, white-brown handsclutched at the fringed arm of his buckskin shirt. The beautiful facewas flushed, the bosom heaved, and from between the red lips poured atorrent of words:

  "You _shall_ find happiness! You, who are great and strong and braveabove all men! You, who are good, and whom the Great Spirit sent to mefrom the waters of the river!

  "You, The-Man-Who-Cannot-Die, shall turn from your own kind, and shallfind your happiness beside the rivers, and in the forests of my people!Together we will journey to some far place, and in our lodge will dwelllove and great happiness.

  "And you shall become a mighty hunter, and in all the North you shallbe feared and loved."

  The girl paused and gazed wildly into the eyes of the man. His face wasdrawn and pale, and in his eyes she read deep pain. Gently his handclosed over the slender fingers that gripped his sleeve, and at thetouch the girl trembled and leaned closer, until her warm body restedlightly against his arm. Bill's lips moved and the words of histoneless voice fell upon her ears like the dry rustle of dead husks.

  "Jeanne--little girl--you do not understand. These things cannot be.Only unhappiness would come to us. There is nothing in the world Iwould not do for you.

  "To you I owe my life--to you and Wa-ha-ta-na-ta. But, love cannot beordered. It is written--and, far away, in the great city of the whitemen, is a girl--a woman of my own people----"

  The girl sprang from his side and faced him with blazing eyes.

  "A woman of your people!" she almost hissed. "In your sleep you talkedof her, while the fever-spirit was upon you. I _hate_ her--this Ethel!She does not love you, for she will marry another! Ah, in the darknessI have listened, and listening, have learned to _hate_! She sent youaway from her--for, in your eyes she could not read the goodness ofyour heart!"

  Bill raised his hand.

  "You do not understand," he repeated, patiently. "I was not good--I wasa bad man!"

  "Who, then, among white men is good? The men of the logs, who drinkwhisky, and fight among themselves, and kill one another? Is it thesemen that are good in the sight of your woman? And are you, who scornthese things--are you bad?"

  "I, too, drank whisky--and for that reason she sent me away."

  "But, you cannot return to her! She is the wife of another! Over andover again you said it, in the voice of the fever-spirit."

  "No," replied the man softly. "To her I cannot return. But, listen; Istart to-morrow for the white man's country. To find the man for whom Iwork, and tell him of the bird's-eye.

  "Soon I shall come again into the woods. I cannot marry you, for onlyevil would come of it. I will bring you many presents, and always weshall be friends--and more than friends, for you shall be to me asister and I shall be your brother, and shall keep you from harm.

  "To-morrow I go, and you shall promise me that whenever you are introuble of whatsoever kind you will send for me--and I shall come toyou--be it far or near, in the night-time or in the daytime, I willcome--Jeanne, look into my eyes--will you promise?"

  The girl looked up, and a ray of hope lightened the pain in her eyes.

  "You will surely return into the North?"

  "I will surely return."

  "I will promise," she whispered, and, side by side, in the silence ofthe twilight, they left the clearing.