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But then over him swept the same blur of jealousy that had resulted in Graehme Stewart's undoing. This youth wooed his daughter; he had won her affections away. Strangely enough Galen Albret confused the new and the old; again youth cleaved to youth, leaving age apart. Age felt fiercely the desire to maintain its own. The Factor crushed the silver match-box between his great palms and looked up.
The little girl he left in Sacre Coeur of Quebec; he himself took up his residence in the Hudson Bay country. After a few years, becoming lonely for his own flesh and blood, he sent for his daughter. There, as Factor, he gained a vast power, and this power he turned into the channels of his hatred. Graehme Stewart felt always against him the hand of influence.
The little girl he left in Sacré Coeur of Quebec; he himself took up his residence in the Hudson Bay country. After a few years, becoming lonely for his own flesh and blood, he sent for his daughter. There, as Factor, he gained a vast power; and this power he turned into the channels of his hatred. Graehme Stewart felt always against him the hand of influence.
"But the name is Graehme Stewart." "Of course I could not bear my father's name in a country where it was well known," he explained. "Of course," she agreed. Impulsively she raised her face to his, her eyes shining. "To me all this is very fine," said she. He smiled a little sadly. "At least you know why I came." "Yes." she repeated, "I know why you came. But you are in trouble."
Only Graehme Stewart and Elodie, bride of Albret, were young. In the great gray country their lives were like spots of color on a mist. Galen Albret finally became jealous. At first there was nothing to be done, but finally Levoy brought to the older man proof of the younger's guilt. The harsh traveller bowed his head and wept.
To her it had all the largeness that envelops the symbol of a great passion. After a moment she looked up in surprise. "Why!" she exclaimed, "this has a name carved on it!" "Yes," he replied. "But the name is Graehme Stewart." "Of course I could not bear my father's name in a country where it was well known," he explained. "Of course," she agreed.
They become moody, fanciful. In the face of the silence they have little to say. At Fort Rae were old Jock Wilson, the Chief Trader; Father Bonat, the priest; Andrew Levoy, the mètis clerk; four Dog Rib teepees; Galen Albret and his bride; and Graehme Stewart. Jock Wilson was sixty-five; Father Bonat had no age; Andrew Levoy possessed the years of dour silence.
Only Graehme Stewart and Elodie, bride of Albret, were young. In the great gray country their lives were like spots of color on a mist. Galen Albret finally became jealous. At first there was nothing to be done; but finally Levoy brought to the older man proof of the younger's guilt. The harsh traveller bowed his head and wept.
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