United States or Guadeloupe ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Ma'amselle Le Moyne!" they whispered, fearfully. "Mother of Heaven! The factor!" "Our factor! Out of the hands of Death!" "Mon Dieu! One of them! And the maid!" And in the midst of the awed and hushed excitement that was growing with each passing moment, there cut the voice of McElroy, babbling from the blanket. "Throw! Throw, Ma'amselle, for M'sieu!" "Hush!" said Maren; "where is Prix Laroux?"
She straightened by the door, and the hand on the lintel gripped until the nails went white. "Do? Anything save sit with closed gates in safety while savages burn your factor at the stake! The Hudson's Bay brigade comes from York this very month. What easier than to meet it and get help of men and guns?" "Nay," said Laroux gently; "you do but dream, Maren."
Maren held out her hand and Laroux grasped it in a clasp of faith. "See!" cried Tessa Bibye, peeping eagerly from among the women, "she holds hands with that blackhaired man of her people who spurs the rest. One man or another, as Francette says, little cat! all are fish who come to Ma'amselle's net! The factor, or the cavalier, or a common voyageur.
For a moment Laroux faced her squarely, the man who had tied himself to her hand, pledged himself to forge the way to the Whispering Hills, who followed her compelling leadership as these lesser men had turned to follow his but now. Then he set his will to hers. "I will not," he said quietly.
At that moment a figure came out of the dusk and stopped before her. It was her leader, Prix Laroux, silent, a shadow of the shadows. "Maren," he said, in that deep confidence of trusted friends, "Maren, is all well with you?" "All is well, Prix," said the girl, her voice tremulous with pleasure, "most assuredly. Thought you aught was wrong?" "Nay, only I felt the desire to know."
A sudden little light flamed for a moment in the young factor's blue eyes. For some unknown reason it had pleased him, that last ingenious sentence. "Prix Laroux," he said, turning to his new acquisition, "we will get to the work of our contract." Springtime lay over the vast region of lake and forest.
Only Prix Laroux of all those who had seen her grow into her magnificent womanhood at Grand Portage had come to her with his gift of faith and tied himself to hand for life, and he came not with the love of man but rather as one who follows a goddess. Yet it was that aching desire to serve her which sent him.
Big Bard McLellan stood by a porthole, his eyes always pensive with his own sadness, gazing with grave sorrow to where McElroy swung down the slope between his captors. Thus they watched his going, and he had been spared that sick pain had he known. When it was over, Prix Laroux turned back to the deserted factory and stood hesitating on its step.
And Maren Le Moyne venturer of the venturers, flame of fire among them, urger, inspirer, and moral leader, a living pillar before them in her eagerness must needs curb her soul in bonds of patience and wait at Fort de Seviere for another spring. Close beside her in her visions and her high hope, her courage and her eagerness, stood that leader of the little band, Prix Laroux.
"Adventurers," he read, "from Grand Portage on Lake Superior, bound for the west, agreed to stop for the length of one year at Fort de Seviere on the Assiniboine River, Prix Laroux and wife Ninette, Pierre and Cif Bordoux and their wives Anon and Micene, Franz LeClede and wife Mora, Henri Baptiste and wife Marie, and Maren Le Moyne, an unmarried woman and sister to Marie Baptiste."
Word Of The Day