“Ay go down de road a bit an’ meet Papineau if he come back,” he proposed. “If de togs is tired I take de doctor on my toboggan. Get back qvicker dat vay. So long! I comes back soon anyvays, sure.”
He started away at a swift pace, his strong dogs, amply rested, barking and throwing themselves hard upon the breastpieces of their harness. After he was out of hearing the two women sat very close together, for mutual comfort and consolation, and the older one began to speak in a low whisper.
“You very lucky, mademoiselle. It ees lucky it ain’t you h’own man as lie dere an’ you haf to see heem like dat. It is turriple ting to see. One time Papineau heem get h’awful seek, an’ I watch him five––no, six day and de nights. An’ it vos back in de Grand Nord, no doctor nor noding at all. An’ me wid my little Justine jus’ two month ole in my h’arms. An’ den come de day ven de good Lord Heem ’ear ’ow I pray all de time an’ Papineau heem begin to get vell again. But de time vos like having big knife planted in my ’eart, jus’ like dat.”
She made a gesture as if she had stabbed herself, and went on:
“You not know ’ow ’appy you must be you no love a man as goin’ for die soon. You––you go crazy times like dat!”
But Madge made no answer and could only continue to stare at the form that seemed to grow dimmer as the small oil lamp cast flickering shadows in the room. In her ears the continued, eternal sound of the great falls had taken on an ominous character. It was like some solemn dirge that rose and fell, unaccountably, like the breathing of a vast force that could reck nothing of the piteous tragedy being enacted. It appeared to be growing ever so much colder again. A few feet away from the stove it was freezing. She sought to look out of the little window but great massing clouds had hidden the crimson of sunset. A strong wind was arising and caused the great firs and spruces to groan dismally. The minutes were again becoming cruel things that tortured one with their maddening slowness. The girl became conscious of the beats of her heart, unaccountably slow, as she thought.
And then, for a moment, that heart stopped utterly. A shout had come from the little lumber road and Maigan was barking at the door excitedly, in spite of the older woman’s 250 scolding. The toboggan slithered over the snow and there was a patter of dogs’ feet.
Madge threw the door open and let in a man in a great coonskin coat, who was carrying a bag. In spite of the heaviest fur mitts his hands were chilled and for a moment he held them to the glow of the stove, before turning calmly to his patient, after a curt nod to each of the women.