A hundred men were riding,
A-hunting for Pierre.
They rode and rode, but nothing could they find.
They rode around by moonlight;
They rode around by day;
They rode and rode, but nothing could they find.
Then came the sharp scraping of his runners across the surface of the snow on a level with the buried roof. It lessened from a hissing speech to a hissing whisper. It sighed away. Bella sat down abruptly on a chair, pulled in her chin like an unhappy child; her bosom lifted as though a sob would force its way out.
“If he doesn’t come back!” she murmured. “If he doesn’t come back!” She was speaking to God.
CHAPTER II
Pete blinked, swallowed hard and began to talk fast and hopefully.
“He’ll come back. I don’t believe he’ll get halfway there, Bella,” he reassured the woman. “He’ll come to his senses. You know how moody he is. Come over here and doctor up my ankle, please. ‘Make a fuss over me, Bell.’ Isn’t that what I used to say?”
He coaxed until at last she came and knelt before him and removed his moccasin and heavy woolen sock. The strong white foot was like marble, but the ankle was swollen and discolored. Bella clicked her tongue. “He is a brute, you know!” She laughed shortly. Since Garth’s departure she had become almost a human being. The deaf-mute look had melted from her, and a sardonic humor emerged; her eyes cleared; she could even smile. “Why do we care so much for him, Pete—the two of us?”
Pete winced under her touch and puckered his brows. “Because he’s such a kid, I guess. He’s always fretting after the moon.”
“Don’t you ever get angry with him, Pete? He does treat you shameful sometimes.”