“There’s a good fire in the shack just now,” he told her. “It’s absolutely necessary for you to get thoroughly warmed up before you start off again. A cup of hot tea would do you a lot of good, too, after that long ride on Stefan’s toboggan. It’s no joke of an undertaking for a––a young lady who isn’t used to such things.”
Madge was still hesitating. The suffering look that had come into her eyes moved the young man to greater pity for her.
“I––I give you my word you have absolutely 112 nothing to fear,” he assured her, whereupon she followed him meekly, feeling very faint now. She half feared that she might have to clutch at his sleeve, if her footsteps failed her, for she felt that at any moment she might stagger and fall. She gasped again as she looked at the shack they were nearing, but, as she beheld the scenery of the great pool, something in it that was very grand and beautiful appealed to her for an instant. Yet she felt crushed by it, as if she had been some infinitesimal insect beside that stupendous crashing of waters, before the great ledges whose tops were hirsute with gnarled firs and twisted jack-pines. She stopped for a moment, perhaps owing to her weakness, or possibly because of awe at the majesty of the scene.
“I just love it,” said the man. “It grows more utterly splendid every time one looks at it. See that mass of rubbish on the top of that great hemlock. It is the nest of a pair of ospreys. They come every year, I’ve been told. Last summer I saw them circling high up in the heavens, at times, and they would utter shrill cries as if they had been the guardians of the falls and warned me off. But we had better hurry in, Miss––Miss Nelson.”
For an instant she had listened, wondering. 113 This man did not speak like a common toiler of city or country. His manner, somewhat distant, in no way reminded her of the coarse familiarity she had often been subjected to in shop and factory. But a moment later such thoughts passed off and she followed him, resentfully, feeling that she was to some extent forced to submit to his will. As Ennis pulled the door open and held it for her to walk in, he looked at her keenly. He had suddenly remembered hearing that exposure to intense cold had sometimes actually disturbed the brains of people; that it had brought on some form of insanity. He wondered whether, perhaps, this had been the case with her? It was with greater concern and sympathy that he felt he must treat her. The vagaries of her language, the reproaches she seemed to think he deserved, were doubtless things she was not responsible for. And then she looked so weary, so overcome, so ready to collapse with faintness!
Madge entered the shack. It had been swept, neatly enough, and everything was arranged in orderly fashion, except some loose things piled up in one corner, out of the way. The little stove was glowing, and the draft was purring softly. The girl pulled off her mitts and held her reddened hands to it while 114 Hugo brought her one of his rough chairs. Then, without a word, he placed a kettle on the fire, after which he brought out a white enameled cup and a small pan containing some of his biscuits. After cogitating for a moment he also placed on the table a tin of sardines.
Madge had dropped upon the chair, and began to feel more unutterably weary than ever. The heat, close to the stove, became too great for her and she moved her chair to the table, a couple of feet away, and placed her arms upon it. Her head fell forward on them, and when, a few moments later, Hugo spoke to her and she lifted up her face he was dismayed as he saw the tears that were running down her cheeks. The man could only bite his lips. What consolation or comfort could he proffer? It was perhaps better to appear to take no notice of her distress. But the weeping of genuine suffering and unhappiness is a hard thing for a youth to see. The impulse had come to him to cry out for information, to beg her to explain, to question her, to get at the bottom of all this mystery. He was held from this by the renewed thought that her mind was probably affected. He might further irritate her or cause her still deeper chagrin. Even if he erred in this idea the 115 moment was probably ill-chosen. It would be better for her to tell her tale before others also. He would wait until after he had taken her over to Papineau’s. She looked so harmless and weak that the idea that she might prove dangerous never entered his head.
The kettle began to sing and a moment later the water was boiling hard.
“I can’t offer you much of a meal, Miss Nelson,” he said, seeking to make his voice as pleasant as possible. “You’ve probably never tried sour-dough biscuits. Mrs. Papineau’s are better, but you may be able to manage one or two of these. That good woman’s a mighty good cook, as cooking goes in these parts. Here’s a can of condensed milk; won’t you help yourself? You must really try to eat something. Do you think you could try a little cold corned beef? I have some canned stuff that’s not half bad. Or it would take but a moment to broil you a partridge I got yesterday. But I’ll open these sardines first.”
He went to work with a large jack-knife, but she thanked him, briefly, in a low voice, and refused to accept anything but the tea and a bit of the biscuit. She wondered why he didn’t also sit down to eat. It bothered her to see him hovering over her like some sort of 116 waiter. He was probably staring at her, when her head was turned, and enjoying his dastardly jest. When she thought of those letters she had received and of all they contained of lies, of unimaginable falsehoods, the man began again to repel her like some venomous reptile. She could have shrieked out as he came near. What an actor he was! What control he held over voice and face as he pretended to know nothing about her. His effort had been evident, from the very first instant they had met, to disclaim the slightest knowledge of her or of the reasons for her coming! She felt utterly bewildered. He answered to that name of Hugo Ennis and had admitted that this was Roaring River, as Stefan had also told her. Moreover, the big Swede knew perfectly well that she was coming and expected. In word, in action, in every move of his, this man was lying, stupidly, coarsely, with features indifferent or pretending concern. It was unbearable.