He hid his face from her as he dragged himself away. Croisset saw him coming, and came out of the store to meet him. A hundred yards away Cummins stopped.
"Croisset, for the love of God, take a team and go after Jan Thoreau," he called "Tell him that Mélisse is dying of the plague. Hurry, hurry!"
"Night and day!" shouted Croisset.
Twenty minutes later, from the cabin window, Cummins saw him start.
"Jan will be here very soon, Mélisse," he said, running his fingers gently through her hair.
It fell out upon the pillow in thick brown waves, and the sight of it choked him with the memory of another vision which would remain with him until the end of time. It was her mother's hair, shining softly in the dim light; her mother's eyes looked up at him as he sat beside her through all this long day.
Toward evening there came a change. The fever left the child's cheeks. Her eyes closed, and she fell asleep. Through the night Cummins sat near the door, but in the gray dawn, overcome by his long vigil, his head dropped upon his breast, and he slumbered.
When he awoke the cabin was filled with light He heard a sound, and, startled, sprang to his feet. Mélisse was at the stove building a fire!
"I'm better this morning, father. Why didn't you sleep until breakfast was ready?"
Cummins stared. Then he gave a shout, made a rush for her, and catching her up in his arms, danced about the cabin like a great bear, overturning the chairs, and allowing the room to fill with smoke in his wild joy.