At last the door opened and Varley came in quickly. He beckoned to Mrs. Meydon and to Father Bourassa. “He wishes to speak with you,” he said to her. “There is little time.”
Her eyes scarcely saw him, as she left the room and passed to where Meydon lay nerveless, but with wide-open eyes, waiting for her. The eyes closed, however, before she reached the bed. Presently they opened again, but the lids remained fixed. He did not hear what she said.
......................
In the little waiting-room, Finden said to Varley, “What happened?”
“Food was absolutely forbidden, but he got it from another patient early this morning while the nurse was out for a moment. It has killed him.”
“‘Twas the least he could do, but no credit’s due him. It was to be. I’m not envying Father Bourassa nor her there with him.”
Varley made no reply. He was watching the receding storm with eyes which told nothing.
Finden spoke once more, but Varley did not hear him. Presently the door opened and Father Bourassa entered. He made a gesture of the hand to signify that all was over.
Outside, the sun was breaking through the clouds upon the Western prairie, and there floated through the evening air the sound of a child’s voice singing beneath the trees that fringed the river:
“Will you come back, darlin’? Never heed the pain and blightin’,
Never trouble that you’re wounded, that you bear the scars of
fightin’;
Here’s the luck o’ Heaven to you,
Here’s the hand of love will brew you
The cup of peace-ah, darlin’, will you come back home?”