Beyond the Frontier: A Romance of Early Days in the Middle WestParrish, Randall
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Beyond the Frontier: A Romance of Early Days in the Middle West
Parrish, Randall
Middle West -- Fiction
That one glimpse I had into his eyes told me this in a sudden
revelation stronger than any words. I smiled at the recollection, the
sense of power reawakening in my heart. He did care--no less than I
cared, and this knowledge gave me the weapon I needed, and the courage
to use it.
I heard no sound of warning, yet as I turned to retrace my way to the
camp below, I became suddenly aware of the presence of Cassion.
CHAPTER XIII
WE REACH THE LAKE
He was between me and the deer trail, and enough of daylight yet
remained to enable me to perceive the man clearly. How long he may
have been there observing me I could not know, but when I first saw
him he was bent forward, apparently deeply interested in some sudden
discovery upon the ground at his feet.
"You thought me long in returning, Monsieur?" I asked carelessly, and
taking a step toward him. "It was cooler up here, and the view from
the bluff yonder beautiful. You may gain some conception of it still,
if you care."
He lifted his head with a jerk, and stared into my face.
"Ay! no doubt," he said harshly, "yet I hardly think it was the view
which held you here so long. Whose boot print is this, Madame? not
yours, surely."
I glanced where he pointed, my heart leaping, yet not altogether with
regret. The young Sieur had left his trail behind, and it would serve
me whether by his will or no.
"Certainly not mine," and I laughed. "I trust, Monsieur, your powers
of observation are better than that--'tis hardly a compliment."
"Nor is this time for any lightness of speech, my lady," he retorted,
his anger fanned by my indifference. "Whose is it then, I ask you?
What man has been your companion here?"
"You jump at conclusions, Monsieur," I returned coldly. "The stray
imprint of a man's boot on the turf is scarcely evidence that I have
had a companion. Kindly stand aside, and permit me to descend."
"_Mon Dieu_! I will not!" and he blocked my passage. "I have stood
enough of your tantrums already in the boat. Now we are alone, and I
will have my say. You shall remain here until I learn the truth."
His rage rather amused me, and I felt not the slightest emotion of
fear, although there was threat in his words, and in the gesture
accompanying them. I do not think the smile even deserted my lips, as
I sought a comfortable seat on a fallen tree trunk, fully conscious
that nothing would so infuriate the man as studied indifference.
"Very well, Monsieur, I await your investigation with pleasure," I
said sweetly. "No doubt it will prove interesting. You honor me with
the suspicion that I had an appointment here with one of your men?"
"No matter what I suspicion."
"Of course not; you treat me with marked consideration. Perchance
others have camped here, and explored these bluffs."
"The print is fresh, not ancient, and none of the men from my camp
have come this way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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