Donald told him, and added:
“Thompson, more depends upon you than you have any idea of. Tell the factor to hurry, hurry, hurry, if he's going to get that supply train. Goodby.”
The weather-beaten voyageur gripped the outstretched hand, and led the dogs over the new snow to the lake. It would be bitter work, for there were drifts and no crust.
“Look here, McTavish, why don't you make your get-away now?” suddenly demanded Thompson.
“I'm on a hot trail of another sort here,” was the curt answer; “and I won't go until I have followed it to the end.”
Thompson asked no more questions, but “mushed” the dogs, and a minute later was swallowed up in the swirling flakes.
The following day was a busy one in the free-traders' camp. The storm did not abate until nightfall, and during that time the men were engaged in digging their habitations clear of the snow that almost threatened to bury them. In this work, McTavish cheerfully took a hand, and, by his good-humored banter, won his way to the hearts of his fellow-toilers. Notwithstanding his industry, the Hudson Bay man kept his eye open for glimpses of Maria who, as he expected, was constantly about, now that Charles Seguis had returned. He was surprised that Seguis had nothing to say to him, and wondered anew what had been the motive of his sudden liberation. The idea of connecting Jean and the half-breed never entered his head.
By the following morning the air was clear and prickly with cold, and the sky seemed as though newly polished when the sun rose. The days were becoming longer now, and the daylight hours nearly equaled those of darkness. It was when Donald had given up the idea of Seguis's desiring to see him that the unexpected happened. The half-breed approached shortly after noon, and requested his prisoner to walk a little way into the woods, as he had something to communicate. Puzzled, but prepared for anything, Donald agreed. Subconsciously, he felt that this was to be one of the crises of his life, and he gathered himself to meet it. The same spirit of aggressiveness and determination that had characterized him since his liberation possessed him now. He resolved to take command of the situation if he could; if not, to make his defeat seem a victory. The first wheels of his machinery of reprisal and revenge had been set in motion with Thompson's departure, two nights before. Already, the Hudson Bay men had had thirty-six hours to block the French approach to the free-traders' camp. Perhaps, it was concerning this very thing that Charley Seguis wished to speak to him.
For a quarter of an hour they trudged in silence through the forest. A fallen tree at last projected across their path, and Seguis set an example by sitting down. Donald followed suit.
“As you can imagine,” began Seguis evenly, “what I have to say to you is not pleasant. I have a message to deliver.”