For a second she stared at the young woman on the toboggan, but her civility came at once uppermost and she smiled pleasantly, and rushed up to help Madge arise, brushing off some of the snow that had fallen on her from the trees.
“Come inside quick. I have it good hot in de house. You all perished wid dat cole, Mees. Now you get varm again and I make tea tout de suite.”
She had seized Madge’s hands in her own big and capable ones, with the never-failing hospitality and friendliness of the wilderness, 136 and led her indoors at once. Hugo let Maigan loose, with a word of warning, for the other dogs had begun to circle about him jealously, and growled a little, probably for the sake of form, for they took good care to keep out of reach of his long fangs. They had tried him once before and knew that he was their master. Hugo, thankful that the journey was ended, took up the girl’s bag and followed her into the house, after he had taken off his snowshoes, a job he accomplished with some difficulty.
“Mrs. Papineau,” he began, “this young lady came over to my place, a couple of hours ago, and––and there’s been some––some mistake. She thought there was a village here, I believe. She only expects to remain with you till to-morrow, I think, and till then I will be ever so grateful if you will make her as comfortable as possible. I’m afraid she’s dreadfully tired and cold. I expect to return in the morning to take her back to Carcajou, unless––unless she would prefer to rest a day or two here.”
“Ver ’appy to see de lady,” declared Mrs. Papineau, heartily. “Tak’ off you coat, Monsieur Hugo, an’ sit here by de fire. Hey! Baptiste, you bring more big piece of birch. Colette, put kettle on for bile water qvick. 137 Tak’ dis seat, lady. I pull off dem blanket. You no need dem more. Turriple cole now. Las’ night we ’ear de wolfs ’untin’ along dem ’ardwood ridges, back of de river; it ees always sign of big cole. And de river she crack awful, and de trees dey split like guns shoot. Glad you come an’ get varm, Mees.”
Madge looked about her, after she had smiled at the woman in thanks. For the second time that day she had entered a home of kindly and well-disposed people that seemed to be built of an altogether different clay from that which composed the folk of the big city. In Stefan’s home the atmosphere had been gentle, one of earnest, quiet toil, with the simple accompaniment of a kindly religious belief according to the Lutheran persuasion. In the dwelling she had now entered, of fervent French Canadians, she noted the vivid chromo of a departed pope facing the still gaudier representation of the British Royal family, if the printed legend could be believed. They were shown in all the colors of the rainbow, as were also some saints whose glaring portraits hung on either side of the door, surmounted by dried palms reminiscent of Easter festivals. There seemed to be any number of children, from an infant lying in a homemade cradle of boards, 138 one of which displayed an advertisement of soap, to a bashful youth who looked at Hugo as if he worshipped him and a freckled, gawky and friendly-faced girl of fifteen who stood around, evidently delighted to see people and anxious to be civil to them.
And this welcome she had received seemed to be characteristic of all these folks living in the back of beyond. Everywhere she had met friendliness; people had seemed actually eager to help; they smiled as if life had been a thing of joy in which the good things must be distributed far and near and enjoyed by all. They seemed ready to share their possessions with strangers that chanced within their gates. It was a spirit intensely restful, consoling, bringing peace to one’s heart. It gave the girl a brief vision of something that was heavenly. She felt that she could so easily have made her home in this amazing region that opened its arms and actually welcomed new faces. But the thought came to her that she had only been vouchsafed a fleeting glance at it and to gaze, as Moses did of old, upon a Promised Land she could never really enter.
“It is no need for to h’ask, Monsieur Hugo,” Madge heard the woman saying. “Ve do h’all ve can, sure! It ees a gladness to see de yong lady an’ heem pretty face, all 139 red vid de cole. Come by de fire, mees. Celestine ’ere she pull aff your beeg Dutch stockin’. Dey no belong you, sure. Colette, push heem chair near for de lady. Hippolyte, put couple steeks now on ze fire. Mees, I ’ope you mak’ yourself to home now. Monsieur Hugo, you stop for to h’eat a bite vid us. Ve haf’ in de shed still one big quarter from de orignal, de beeg mose vat my man he shoot two veeks ago. Und dere pleanty patates, pleanty pork, all you vant.”
“No, thank you ever so much, I––I think I’d better be going. It will be dark pretty soon. I know perfectly well that you will take excellent care of Miss Nelson and so I think I’ll say good-by now.”
Some of the children trooped around him, disappointed, and Mrs. Papineau came nearer, eying him curiously. Suddenly her keen eyes caught something and she pointed with a finger.