“C’est b’en toi, Verbaux?” he asked hoarsely, his face gray under the tan.
“Jules Verbaux!” the other answered.
“La femme, Verbaux, you have see la femme?” Le Grand asked then in low tones.
“Y’h’our wife? Non, pauvre Le Grand, Ah have no see. She vas ici?” Jules pointed to the ruins.
“Ta femme, Verbaux!” Le Grand spoke solemnly.
An awful look came on Jules’s face; the gray eyes narrowed to gleaming slits, the mouth was rigid, and the nostrils quivered and dilated; the muscles of his temples surged and played under the edges of the fur cap, and his whole body contracted like a steel spring about to be released; his breath came and went with a hissing sound. Le Grand stared, fascinated; the fire crackled sharply, and the howling of wolves suddenly broke the silence of the black timber beyond. The sounds rose and fell in lonely cadence, now carried by the wind, then weakened by it. Neither of the men spoke, and the tension between them was terrible.
“Ma femme?” Jules said at last, speaking with difficulty and in a strange, hollow voice.
“Oui,” answered Le Grand as though hypnotised by the flashing gray eyes that stared into his soul; “la vieille poste v’ere you vas vonce destroi lak’ dees; Maquette, Hibou, Bossu, le facteur, an’ mes petits—keel! Ah, Le Grand, go ’way fas’ an’ fin’ votre femme, Verbaux, hongree, near to dead, dans la forêt; she h’ask me to breeng elle to fin’ toi, Verbaux. H’aftaire toi leave dose Indians h’at Lac de la Petite Hache Ah see your track go nord direct; den w’en Ah fin’ dat fille hongree, h’alon’, Ah t’ink h’of dat track an’ breeng ta femme for to fin’ toi, Verbaux. Ah lef’ Marie ici t’ree day’ gone, an’ den Ah loook, loook pour toi; dey tell to me dat ils ne savaient pas v’ere you leeve, alors Ah chercher partout, ev’ place. To-night Ah come back, an’—” his stoicism broke down and silent sobs shook him.
Jules spoke no word, but a spasm of agony crossed the strong face. The wolves’ voices drew nearer, and the dismal sounds echoed vaguely through the storm; then Jules held out his hand.
“Le Grand,” he said brokenly, “you h’aire good mans!” The other took it, and they stood thus with hands clasped, looking steadfastly at each other; the yellow light flickered about them, blurring their shadows into one across the ash-begrimed snow.