"Chigmok!"
"Yes, you see, Ainley, Chigmok was not dead as you meant him to be. He was only winged, and he was able to tell his story which was a much more interesting story than yours, and as I beg leave to think, a much more truthful one."
Ainley did not reply. He stood staring into the darkness with wild eyes. The glow of the fire revealed a terrible look on his face—the look of a man who in a single moment has seen his life go suddenly to pieces. He stood there dumb, his face working painfully, and then, as the dog-team broke into the circle of the firelight, he fell back into his seat by the fire in utter collapse, his face hidden in his hands.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE TRAIL TO PARADISE
When Ainley lifted a white, tortured face, it was to find the man whom he had used as a tool, and whom, having used, he had tried to kill, seated by the fire, staring at him with his evil eyes full of hate. The others also sat watching him, all except Helen who had withdrawn to the shadow of the wood, and was walking restlessly to and fro, unable to witness further the downfall of a man whom she had known so well. For a moment there was silence, then Anderton spoke.
"Would you like to hear Chigmok's story, Ainley?"
"There is no need that I should," answered Ainley with a bitter, hopeless laugh. "I can guess it fairly well."