“Because not two months ago there was a picture of you tacked up in the post-office.”
Bella’s face whitened, and Hugh’s cheeks grew a shade more leaden. “T-two months ago!” he stammered painfully; “but that’s not p-possible. They—they’ve given me up. They’ve f-forgotten me. They th-think I’m dead. After fifteen years? My God, Pete! Why didn’t you tell me?” He pleaded the last with a shaken sort of sharpness, in pitiful contrast to the bombast of the preceding speech.
“I didn’t see the good of telling you. I was waiting until this trip to see if the picture was still there, and maybe to ask some questions.”
“What does it mean?” whispered Bella.
“It means they’ve some fresh reason to hunt me—some fresh impulse—God knows what or why. How can we tell out here, buried in the snows of fifteen winters. Well!” He struck his hands down on the table edge and stood up. He drew his mouth into a crooked smile and looked at the other two as a naughty child looks at its doting but disapproving elders. The smile transfigured his ugliness. “I’ve a fancy to see that picture. Want to be reminded of what I looked like fifteen years ago. I was a handsome fellow then. I’m going to take the pelts.”
Pete looked dumbly up at him, his lips parted. Bella twisted her apron about her hands. Both seemed to know the hopelessness of protest. In the same anxious dumbness they watched Garth make ready for his trip. As he pulled his cap down close about his ears, Pete at last found his voice.
“Hugh,” he began doubtfully, “I wish you wouldn’t risk it. We can get on without supplies until next trading-day, when I’ll surely be all right.”
“Hold your tongue! I’m going,” was the answer. “I tell you, the spirit of adventure has me. Who knows what I may meet with out there?” He flung back the door and, pointing with a long arm, stood silhouetted against the dazzle.
“Beauty? Opportunity? Danger? Hope? Death? I shan’t shirk it this time. I’ll meet whatever comes. But—” He came back a step into the room. His harsh face melted to a shamefaced gentleness; his voice softened. “If they get me down there, if I don’t come back, you two try to think kindly of me, will you? I know what you think of me now. I know you won’t see me as I am—no one but God will ever do me that kindness; but you two—be easy with me in your memories.”
Bella, her arms now twisted to their red elbows in her apron, took a few stiff steps across the floor. Her face was expressionless, her eyes lowered. Garth smiled at them both and went out, shutting the door. They heard him singing as he put on his skis: