Land of the true where we live anew,
Beautiful isle of somewhere."
The singer by this time had reached the door, and the song ceased. She was a young woman, slight and beautiful, who crossed the threshold, carrying a sunbonnet in one hand and a bunch of wild flowers in the other. Her eyes glanced for an instant at the bearded stranger standing in the centre of the room. Then they rested upon the child lying on the couch and with a cry of surprise and delight she darted forward and knelt down by his side. Later when she looked inquiringly around Grey was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared, and only the woman with the hard eyes was standing before her.
CHAPTER V THE FUR TRADER'S STORE
Grey stumbled rather than walked out of the log cabin. He looked about for the Indian, but he was nowhere to be seen. The evening breeze fanned and cooled his flushed face. He wished to get away somewhere. His throat was dry; he felt he would choke. His brain reeled as he staggered forward. A trail to the left caught his eye, and along this he tottered. Madeline there! Madeline in such a den as that! What did it all mean? Was it only a horrible dream, or was he going mad? Had he been mistaken? Perhaps it was someone else. No, it was all too real. It was she without any doubt! Could he ever forget that face, those eyes, that wealth of dark-brown hair, and the slight girlish figure? It was Madeline, his long-lost Madeline. He had expected to find her some day, somewhere, but not here.
He had reached the forest now, and sat down on a log by the side of the trail. He wished to think, to solve the mystery. Madeline there! Was it possible? Then thoughts, terrible spectres, surged through his brain. Why was she there? How could he associate the pure-souled woman as he had known her with such a life as that? That song, full of intense pathos, that face, that cry of surprise and joy; they came to him again. Madeline was there—only a few rods away, beneath that roof! A great longing filled his heart. Oh, to go to her, to look into those eyes and listen to her voice! He rose from the log, and took a step forward. He would go. He would know the worst at once. But he hesitated. His hand sought his brow in perplexity. He tried to think, to reason. No, not to-night. He would rest first, and in the morning, perhaps, it would be better to go to her.
The bark of a dog aroused him. It made him realise that night was upon him, and he must have food and shelter. Following the direction of the sound, ere long he reached a clearing of several acres in extent. All around he beheld log cabins and frames of numerous tents. Through the midst of these the trail wound, and along this he moved, watching for some sign of life. At length he reached a building larger than the rest, where stood a lean Indian dog which sidled angrily away as Grey approached. In answer to his knock a gruff voice commanded him to enter. Pushing open the door he beheld two men seated before a rough deal table, playing cards. In a corner nearby sat a powerfully-built man, with a long beard, and wavy hair well streaked with grey. He was calmly smoking, and watching the game with much interest.
Across one side of the room ran a rough counter, formed of whipsawn boards, which evidently knew nothing of soap and water. Behind this and arranged along the wall were all sorts of articles from cheap prints to tea, tobacco, beads and candy.