“I am serious,” I replied. “Do not play with me. Think how long I have waited. Say that you will be my wife in a week’s time.”
“You foolish boy!” She nestled closer to me, adding, in a different and tremulous voice: “I am yours, dearest. I will marry you whenever you wish.”
Our lips met, and then I held her at arm’s length, looking into her big, purple eyes, soft and shining with the light of love.
“I am the happiest man in the world,” I said hoarsely.
“You deserve it,” Flora answered.
“And I am glad to feel that we are carrying out the wishes of Griffith Hawke. Poor fellow! he was a true friend; and so was Captain Rudstone. I often think of his sad fate.”
“I never liked Captain Rudstone,” said Flora. “I feared and mistrusted him. And I have seen him looking at you so queerly sometimes, Denzil.”
“Have you?” I replied. “I have noticed the same thing myself. But I can’t believe—”
“Hush! we won’t talk of the past,” Flora interrupted. “But the future worries me, dearest. I am afraid of war breaking out—”
“The cloud will likely blow over,” said I; “but if trouble does come the Northwest Company will quickly get the worst of it. And I forgot to tell you, darling, that Mr. Macdonald has promised me a good post here at Fort Garry.”