“You bet de life, mees, I make dem dog ’urry plenty moch. Yes, ma’am, you bet!” he repeated, calmly, but looking at her with the strong steely eyes that seemed peculiar to these men of the great North.
He ran with his team up the path. When he reached the tote-road the girl saw that he had jumped on the sled, which was tearing away to the southward.
Within the shack Mrs. Papineau busied herself in many ways, placing things in order and fussing about the stove, upon which she had placed a pot containing more herbs she had brought with her. Every few minutes she interrupted her work in order to take another look at Hugo. Once or twice Madge saw a big tear roll down her fat cheeks, which she swiftly wiped off with her sleeve. A little later she managed to make the man swallow some of her concoction. He appeared to obey unconsciously, but when she spoke to him he just babbled something which neither of the women understood. Finally the Frenchwoman sat down at the side of Madge, snuffling a little, and began to whisper.
“Big strong man one day,” she commented, “an’ dis day seek an’ weak lak one leetle child. 207 Eet is de way so strange of de Providence. It look lak de good Lord make one fine man, fines’ Heem can make––a man as should get de love of vomans an’ leetle children––an’ den Heem mak up his min’ for to tak heem avay. An’ Heem good Lord know why, but I tink I better pray. Maybe de good Lord Heem ’ear an’ tink let heem lif a whiles yet, eh?”
And so the woman knelt down and repeated prayers, for the longest time, speaking hurriedly the invocations she had all her life, known by heart, and ending each one with the devout crossing of her breast. Then Madge, for the first time in a very long while, remembered words she had so often heard in the little village church at home, which promised that whenever two or three were gathered together in the name of the Lord, He would be among them. Yes, she had heard that assurance often in the place of worship she could now see so vividly, in which the open windows, on summer days, let in the droning of the bees and the scent of honeysuckle outside. So she knelt beside the other woman and began to pray also, haltingly, in words that came well-nigh unbidden because they were the call of a heart in sore travail which had long forgotten how to pray for itself. 208 And it seemed as if the great Power above must surely be listening.
Finally Mrs. Papineau rose. She was compelled to go back home and see that the children were fed. She promised she would return in a short time. The doctor would certainly not come before night, perhaps not even until early morning, for he would be compelled to make a journey on the train. Papineau would wait for him, of course. As soon as he had sent the message he would give the dogs a good feed and they would be ready for the return. Then when the doctor turned up, Papineau would rush him to Roaring River, and––and if the Lord was willing he might be able to do something, providing....
But she had to interrupt herself to wipe away another big tear. She placed a hand upon the girl’s shoulder, seeking to encourage her a little, and started off, her heavy footsteps crackling over the snow. Then silence came again, but for the hurried breathing of the sick man and the occasional sighs of Maigan, who refused food offered to him.
Madge forced herself to eat a little, dimly realizing that for a time there might be need of all her strength. After this she sat down again, feeling crushed with the sense of her helplessness and with the thought of the terribly 209 long hours that must elapse before the doctor could arrive.
Once Hugo seemed to awaken, as if from a sleep. The hand that had lain so still seemed to grope, searchingly, and she placed her own upon it.
“Take you over––all right––to-morrow,” he said. “It––it’s a pity, because––because you’re so––so good and kind, now,” he muttered. “She––she thinks I––I’m the dirt under her feet. Ain’t––ain’t you there, Stefan?”