Canada -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- Ontario -- Fiction
In spite of the gray pall of clouds over the sky and the complaining
of the gale-swept tops of the great trees, in spite of the vast dull
roar of the great falls, that had seemed a dirge, a ray of cheer had
entered the little shack. It had seemed to her like such a paltry and
mean excuse for a dwelling, when she had first seen it, and had been
so thoroughly in keeping with the sordid nature she had at once
attributed to this man whom she believed to have brought her there
with amazing lies. But now, in some way, it had become a link, and the
only one, that still attached her a little to the world. It appeared
to her like the one place where she had been able to obtain a little
rest from her miserable thoughts. Indeed, it had now become infinitely
desirable. If the man could have stood up again and greeted her it
would have become a haven of unspeakable comfort, since she would
realize that for once her efforts had not been in vain, and that she
had helped bring him back to life. But of course she knew that she
must leave it soon, that whether he died or recovered, the only trail
she could follow would be one that would lead to the banks of the
Roaring River, where the big air holes were. And yet, so strongly is
hope implanted in the human heart, this termination of her adventure
seemed to have receded into a dimmer future, like the knowledge which
we have that some day all must die but which we consider pertains only
to some vague and distant period that we shall not reach for a long
time.
Hugo was sleeping quietly now and the girl's hand upon his pulse
detected a feeble and swift flowing of the blood-current which, in
spite of its weakness, was an improvement. But the great thing was
that another day had come and he was still living, and his breathing
came quietly. If--if she had loved the man, she never would have been
able to go through all this without a breaking down of her little
strength. As Stefan had said, and as Mrs. Papineau had also intimated,
it was fortunate for her that she did not love him. Indeed, it was
ever so much better. She was glad indeed that he had recognized and
praised her, and then his voice had never expressed the slightest sign
of reproach. She was happy that he had found comfort in her presence
beside his couch and--and had been able to smile at her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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