“Factors have too many ways of getting such things out of the way,” Maria mumbled.
“Fool! Do you think I am a murderer at heart? You lie when you say that. It was ambition that changed you from a pretty Indian girl to a ruthless fiend; ambition for your child that would take him and you up to the heights, perhaps. But not by the open road! The dirty back alleys were what you used to climb, and now you're nearly there. But you never did it alone, never. You enlisted the help of a man that hates me and mine, as a trapper hates a wolverene. A man who has lied to me and tried to deceive me for years; a man who, boasting of his devotion to the Company, has let personal animus sway every thought and action for twenty years.
“Yes, I mean, Fitzpatrick. You!” snarled the commissioner, shaking a swift, accusing finger at the factor, who had raised himself on his elbow, his face purple. “You think you have gone on unobserved; and wonder why you were never promoted to York factory, and why honors never came to you as you grew older. Know now that I was watching you and that I knew everything you did—almost the thoughts that passed in your mind. You have persecuted my son, you would have succeeded in taking his life, if your own pretender, Seguis there, hadn't defeated you. Under a mask of loyalty, you've been the one accursed rebel in the Company's ranks, and, if I were a commissioner of the old regime, I'd have you taken out and hanged to a tree this afternoon. But I won't do that. Your own life has been its own punishment. For years, you haven't known a happy day or a contented hour; your venom has eaten your own heart away, and what life remains to you will be more miserable still, because, after all, you go down in defeat, dishonored and disgraced. You are hereby removed from any office and any connection with the Company, and are commanded to leave its territories as soon as you can travel.”
The commissioner ceased speaking abruptly, his eyes blazing with fury, and his outstretched arm trembling. The factor cowered before the accusing presence, like a boy caught in a theft, and sank back upon his blankets, shame and pain struggling on the scarred battlefield of his face. For him, life had come to a bitter and inglorious end, and, during all that followed, he never spoke again.
There was a minute's pause while the commissioner recovered himself. Then, the thought of his own helplessness and the inevitable ruin that faced him and his returned, and his face grew drawn and hopeless. The triumphant and gleeful chortling of the old squaw attracted his stunned senses.
“Maria,” he said quietly, “you have it in your power to ruin and disgrace me—and my boy. Perhaps, it is the punishment for the evil thing I did so many years ago. If so, I accept it. I shall not beg you, or try to buy you, or humble myself. The document you have is a lie, and you know it. Neither you nor your son shall ever receive a cent of money from me. All you can claim is the dirty honor of ruining me. If you want that, take it. I have spoken my last word on the subject.” He ceased, and sat, a picture of misery.
Suddenly, there was a choking sound from the opposite side of the tent where Seguis lay.
“I can't stand this!” the half-breed cried. “Listen to me, commissioner! All of you listen! That certificate is a lie, and I can prove it. I—”
There was a raucous scream, and Maria leaped upon the wounded man, and buried her talons in his throat. Rainy and the commissioner seized her, and tore her from her helpless victim violently, hurling her back across the tent, screeching.
“Silence!” roared McTavish. “Or I'll gag you with your own fist.”