Having reached the building, he rapped loudly upon the door, expecting to see it opened by an uncouth native. He heard someone moving within; then a hand was laid upon the wooden latch, and great was his surprise to see standing before him a grey-bearded white man, tall and commanding in appearance. Kindly eyes looked full into his, and a voice musical and soft bade him welcome, followed by an invitation to enter.
Briefly Grey related his story, after which the tall man hurried back into the room. By this time Dan had arrived, entered the building, and laid his burden upon a low cot placed against the wall. Just then the long-bearded man reappeared through a door to the left.
"Bring her in here," he commanded. "It will be more comfortable."
Lifting Madeline in his arms, Norman did as he was bidden, and entered a little room, meant evidently for a study. The floor was bare. A rough deal table stood by the window littered with papers. A few magazine pictures adorned the walls, while in one corner were several shelves filled with books.
"Lay her there," and the owner of the house pointed to a cosy cot covered with the soft glossy skins of a bear, wolf and lynx. "I shall be back in a few minutes."
Saying this, he disappeared, and Grey found himself alone with Madeline, for the trapper had remained in the outer room, where he was filling his pipe preparatory to his usual morning smoke.
Norman looked long and lovingly upon that white face embedded among the furs. Within him raged a fierce contest. He desired to stay by her side, to know how she would fare after her terrible experience. The love in his heart told him to remain. She was all he had in the world. In her was his life and hope. But, on the other hand, he was in duty bound to go forward as quickly as possible after that stolen child. There was his duty. And yet, why should he go? Did not love, the care of this helpless woman, have the first consideration? Suddenly be remembered that this was the day of his discharge from the Force. Was he not a free man, no longer bound by exacting, and at times galling, rules? On the other hand, was he free? That could not be until he returned, and received his discharge from his Commanding Officer. But, then, what was duty, when love stood in the way? One voice whispered, "Stay with her whom you love. This is your first duty." But another voice, clear and distinct, could not be silenced. "You are in honour bound to carry out your Commander's orders. He has intrusted you with a sacred commission, and will you relinquish the quest, bring disgrace upon yourself, and dishonour upon the Force? Hitherto no man has ever turned back when given such a command as yours until his object had been attained, and will you be the first? How can you return to Big Glen, face your Superior Officer, and your comrades? You, Norman Grey, have never shirked your duty before, and will you do it now?" "But what about Madeline?" again insisted the first voice.
Grey glanced through the small window facing the south, and his eyes rested upon the tall man hurrying from one of the cabins with an Indian woman by his side. There was the answer to the question. Madeline would be carefully looked after, and what good would his presence be anyway? He would fulfil his commission, and then come back to her—perhaps she would want him then.
He heard the outer door open, and knew that his attention would not be needed. Swiftly he stooped over that quiet form, and his lips touched her lips in one fond, passionate kiss. When the man and the Indian woman entered the room they beheld the constable standing silently by the cot. They knew nothing of the battle which had taken place within his heart, nor of the victory won.
"You will do your best for her?" and Grey turned his eyes full upon the face of the bearded man as he spoke.