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But, after a momentary silence, he turned once more in his saddle. "Say, mad'mo'selle," he said, "this here De Launay, now; he's sure enough your husband?" "Of course." "But he ain't noways a regular, honest-to-God husband, is he?" "We are married," said Solange. "Is that not enough?" "I reckon so. Still, there's Dave and me we would sure admire to know how this feller stands with you."
"I reckon it's a certainty that Pop requires considerable labor, though, and maybe this demented lady won't. If the wages is liberal " "We ought to see the lady, first," said Dave. "There's some lady pilgrims that couldn't hire me with di'monds." "The pay's all right and the lady's all right. She's French." "A mad'mo'selle?" they echoed. "It's a long story," said De Launay, smiling.
"It's quite a legend around here. The Lunch Rock mine, they call it, and Jim Banker, the prospector, looks for it every year." "But he ain't found it " A bell boy passed, singing out: "Call for Mad'mo'selle Dalbray! Call fer Mad'mo'selle Dalbray!" Mademoiselle rose and beckoned to him. "Three men in the lobby wish to see yuh, miss!" the boy told her. "Said Mr. Delonny sent 'em."
Snow ain't so bad but " "But what?" "She drifts into this here cañon pretty bad. There ain't no road and down hereaways where these rocks make the goin' hard at the best of times, the drifts sure stack up bad." "What is it that you mean, Monsieur Sucatash?" "I mean that we ain't goin' to have no trouble gettin' in, mad'mo'selle, but we may have a fierce time gettin' out.
All about that end of the shack, the seated or standing men, mostly of the silent and aloof groups, drifted casually aside, leaving the table free. Solange sat down and Sucatash put out a hand to restrain her. "Mad'mo'selle!" he remonstrated. "This ain't no place fer yuh! Yuh don't want to hang around here with this old natural! He's plum poisonous, I'm tellin' yuh!"
De Launay gazed down upon the fire, and his face was bitter as though he tasted death. Solange slowly reached behind her again and dropped the heavy weapon upon the log. Then, in a choked voice she struggled to call out: "Monsieur Wallace! Will you come?" In the next room there was a stirring of hasty movements. Sucatash raised a cheery and incongruous voice. "Just a minute, mad'mo'selle!
"But," said Mrs. Wallace, gently, "it is not necessary for you to go yourself. Indeed, you can't do it, my dear!" "Why not, madame?" "Why why But, mad'mo'selle, you must realize that a young girl like you can't wander these mountains alone or with a set of young scamps like these boys. They're good boys, and they wouldn't hurt you, but people would talk." Solange only shrugged her shoulders.
"Because he never done it that's whatever. You'd never get over it, mad'mo'selle, if you done that and then found you was wrong! And you are wrong." Slowly, Solange dragged herself upright. She was listless, the lightness had gone out of her step. Without a word, she reached out and lifted her leather coat from the nail on which it hung. Then she dragged her leaden feet to the door.
"It ain't likely he knows much that will help, mad'mo'selle," said Sucatash, also eager to aid, "but my old man was around here when these hostilities was pulled off, and it's possible he might help you. He could tell you as much as any one, I reckon." "Your father?" "Yes, ma'am.
Solange broke into a laugh and her eyes grew deep and mysterious again as she stooped to him while the embarrassed Sucatash sidled out under the tent flap. "You will make yourself poor," she said. "I couldn't," he answered, "so long as Morgan la fée is with me in Avalon." Sucatash called from outside, plaintively: "I got the dogs fed and ready, mad'mo'selle I mean, madame!
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