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Updated: May 10, 2025
One day, soon after they came, the dams and booms were opened above, and forests of logs came riding down to Bamber's Boom. The current was strong, and the logs came on swiftly. As Brydon's gang worked, they saw a man out upon a small raft of driftwood, which had been suddenly caught in the drive of logs, and was carried out towards the middle channel.
Judith gave a little cry when she saw the blood and Brydon's bruised face. He lifted his head as though her eyes had drawn his, and, their looks meeting, he took his hat off. Her face flushed; she dropped her eyes. Her grandfather seized Brydon's big hand, and said some trembling words of thanks. The girl stepped inside, made a bed for him upon the sofa, and got him something to drink.
From the hour when he bound up Brydon's head, Judith's fingers aiding him, he felt a spring in his blood new to him. When he came to know exactly what it meant, and acted, it was too late. He was much surprised that his advances were gently repulsed. He pressed them hard: that was a mistake. He had an idea, not uncommon in such cases, that he was conferring an honour. But he was very young.
Horror, with the sight, had leaped into Brydon's throat, gasping there in a sound he couldn't utter; for the bared identity was too hideous as his, and his glare was the passion of his protest. The face, that face, Spencer Brydon's? he searched it still, but looking away from it in dismay and denial, falling straight from his height of sublimity.
Besides, he told himself, it was not a fiercely cold night there was no great danger of any person freezing to death; and even so, were not some things more vital than saving people from death, which must come sooner or later? Then down the wind came the cry again a frightened cry he could hear the words "Help! help! for God's sake!" Something in Fred Brydon's heart responded to that appeal.
Pierre put out his hand to hers creeping along the coverlet to him; but it was only instinct that guided him, for he could not see. He started on his journey with his hat pulled down over his eyes. One evening when the river was very high and it was said that Brydon's drives of logs would soon be down, a strange thing happened at the Bridge House. The young doctor had gone, whispering to Mr.
She was very cool; she immediately asked Pierre to go for the young doctor who had lately come to the place, and made ready warm water with which she wiped Brydon's blood-stained face and hands, and then gave him some brandy. His comrades standing round watched her admiringly, she was so deft and delicate.
One day, soon after they came, the dams and booms were opened above, and forests of logs came riding down to Bamber's Boom. The current was strong, and the logs came on swiftly. As Brydon's gang worked, they saw a man out upon a small raft of driftwood, which had been suddenly caught in the drive of logs, and was carried out towards the middle channel.
Pierre glanced at the hand, then at Brydon's face, and said sharply: "Take it away." The hand dropped; but Brydon's face was hot, and his eyes were hard. Pierre continued: "But then women are strange. What you expect they will not no. Riches? it is nothing; houses like that on the hill, nothing. They have whims.
It is my granddaughter at that window. Tell her that I'll think of her to the last.... Good-bye!" Brydon was eyeing the logs. The old man's voice was husky; he could not cry out, but he waved his hand to the girl. "Oh, save him!" came from her faintly. Brydon's eyes were now on the covered bridge. Their raft was in the channel, coming straight between two piers. He measured his chances.
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