“The game is with you, Dingan. All the cards are in your hands; you’ll never get such another chance again; and you’re only thirty,” said the captain.
THE BIRD SHE HEARD IN THE NIGHT WAS CALLING IN HIS EARS NOW
“I wish they’d ask me,” said Dingan’s partner, with a sigh, as he looked at Lablache. “I want my chance bad, though we’ve done well here—good gosh, yes, all through Dingan.”
“The winters, they go queeck in Groise,” said Lablache. “It is life all the time, trade all the time, plenty to do and see—and a bon fortune to make, bagosh!”
“Your old home was in Nova Scotia, wasn’t it, Dingan?” asked the captain, in a low voice. “I kem from Connecticut, and I was East to my village las’ year. It was good, seein’ all my old friends again; but I kem back content, I kem back full of home-feelin’s and content. You’ll like the trip, Dingan. It’ll do you good.”
Dingan drew himself up with a start. “All right. I guess I’ll do it. Let’s figure up again,” he said to his partner, with a reckless air.
With a smothered cry Mitiahwe turned and fled into the darkness, and back to the lodge. The lodge was empty. She threw herself upon the great couch in an agony of despair.