“Good-by,” whispered Loseis. “Good-by, my dearest love. Come back soon!”
Swiftly withdrawing herself from him, she gave his horse a smart slap; and it carried him away.
CHAPTER XIV
THE DISCOVERY
Dawn was rosy in the East when Loseis got home; but the moon had set, and the little square within the buildings was full of shadows. There was no stir of life about the men’s house; the door was still closed. Loseis slipped thankfully within her own door. Mary-Lou, being of no help in packing the horses, had been sent home some hours before.
In her first feeling of relief, Loseis threw herself on her bed, and was instantly asleep. But at six her subconscious anxiety awoke her again; and the instant she awakened, she was at the window. The door of the men’s house now stood open; and the two tall Crees were respectively splashing in a basin and brandishing a towel outside the door. They had learned this trick from the white man. Etzooah squatted on the ground near by, grinning derisively. The Slavis did not believe in washing. If they ever yielded to this weakness, it was in secrecy.
One of the Crees went off to the stable; and presently returned leading Gault’s own horse, a rangy, half-bred chestnut from the “outside.” Gault appeared from the house fully accoutered, and Loseis’ heart seemed to drop into a hole in her breast. Suppose he rode along the river trail; any man not absolutely blind must perceive the marks of the passage of the fur train. However, to her relief, he trotted diagonally across the square, and started up the trail behind the store.
Freshening himself up to come courting again, thought Loseis with curving lips.
Her next anxiety was that Moale, actuated by his passion for fine furs, might visit the warehouse to look them over. But Moale did not appear outside the cabin. Loseis saw smoke rising from the chimney, and supposed that he must be acting as cook for the time being. So she left the window to prepare herself for the day.
In due course Gault returned from his ride. He went within to refurbish himself; and promptly on the stroke of eight was to be seen striding across the square, very stiff and handsome and black.
Quite a picture, thought Loseis in a detached way; but not for my album. She spoke through the door to Mary-Lou. “Let him wait in the kitchen for a moment. We must not appear to be too eager.”