“Then, I am the rightful heir of the commissioner?” he asked, in an awed voice.
“Yes,” Donald answered, bitterly. “You are everything and, by law, can have everything; I am no one, and, by the same law, can have nothing but what affection or pity dictates. But it is not because of this that I spoke to you,” he went on, proudly. “It was to save my life at least for a little while, as I have work to do.”
“And so have I—so have I!” muttered Seguis, abstractedly, his eyes burning bright. “It's all right, McTavish; nothing will come of this. You can either stay, or I'll fit you out for the trail if you want to take it,” he added. But it was easy to see that his mind was not in his words.
Donald uttered no thanks. He had gained his end; he would not be sent back to the Hudson Bay camp. He looked at his brooding companion, furtively.
“Let him enjoy his hour of triumph and dreaming,” he thought, good-humoredly; “it won't last long.” And he started back through the woods to the camp.
Seguis, apparently wrapped in pleasurable plans, followed slowly at a distance.
[CHAPTER XXIV]
NINE POINTS OF THE LAW
For two days, affairs in the camp remained unchanged. Donald, unobtrusively watching events, saw Charley Seguis often in conference with old Maria. The faces of both were lighted with a certain joy, but, at times, that of the half-breed seemed to assume a brooding somberness. McTavish, for his part, was merely waiting. After that stormy day by the blasted pine, and the glimpse he had caught of the coveted certificate, a change had been wrought in him. He temporarily relinquished the idea of obtaining the paper: that had come later. Other things of more vital importance demanded his attention, things that boded no good for these men in whose midst he lived, unmolested, an alien. He had seen opportunity to serve the Company, that inflexible master which had almost crushed his life out more than once, and the inherent loyalty in him had responded. Where before he had been willing to give his life in defense of his own ideals, now he was setting personal desire aside that the Company might be served.
In the free-traders' camp, the situation was once more becoming acute. Supplies were again low, although the week allowed for the arrival of the French pack-trains was not up. The men were loath to leave the camp exposed, to search for the expected arrivals, and they hung on, trusting that the traders would come through.