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Updated: July 27, 2025
Doret's expression changed; a fleeting sadness settled in his eyes. "I been dere," said he. "I ain't care much for seein' beeg city. I'm lonesome feller." After a moment he exclaimed, more brightly: "Now we go, I see if I can hire crew to row your boats." "How does she look to you?" Lucky Broad inquired, when Pierce and his companion appeared.
"I'm broke," said the man, but at the note in his voice Poleon Doret's muscles tightened, and Burrell, who also read a sinister message in the tone, slid his heavy service revolver from its holster beneath his coat. He had never done this thing before, and it galled him.
It was while negotiating such a place as this that Rock paid the price of his earlier carelessness. Doret's dry moose-skin soles had a sure grip, hence he never hesitated, but the lieutenant's moccasins were like a pair of tin shoes now and, without warning, he lost his footing. He was running swiftly at the moment; he strove to save himself, to twist in midair, but he failed.
Nantbrook seemed unreal, a place of thin shadow, the future unsubstantial as well; only the past was actual in Lemuel Doret's mind the gray cold prison, the city at night, locked rooms filled with smoke and lurid lights, avaricious voices in the mechanical sentences of gambling, agonized tones begging for a shot, just a shot, of an addicted drug, a girl crying.
As Doret's fingers sank deeper into his flesh the man's anger rose; he undertook to shake off the unwelcome grasp. "You leggo! You mind your own business " "Dis goin' be my biznesse," 'Poleon announced. "Dere's somet'ing fonny 'bout dis " "Don't get funny with me. I got as much right to her as you have " 'Poleon jerked the man off his feet, then flung him aside as if he were unclean.
Something was badly askew in the general scheme of affairs to permit of such a thing, and they manifested their grief so loudly that Burrell, who knew nothing of Doret's intention, sought them out and tried to ascertain the cause of it. They had found the French-Canadian at the river with their father, loading his canoe, and they had asked him whither he fared.
During this conference Rouletta stood quivering, her face a blank, completely indifferent to her surroundings. 'Poleon made her sit down, and but for her ceaseless whispering she might have been in a trance. Doret's indignation mounted as the situation became plain to him. "Fine t'ing!" he angrily declared. "Wat for you fellers leave dis seeck gal settin' up, eh?
It's a wretched situation! If she's as ill as you seem to think, why, we'll have to do the best we can, I suppose. She probably won't last long. Come!" Together he and the French Canadian hurried away. It was afternoon when Lucky Broad and Kid Bridges came to 'Poleon Doret's tent and called its owner outside.
As for the Countess, his way was hers, her way was his; he could not bear to think of losing her. She was big, she was great, she drew him by the spell of some strange magic. The peppery old man who, with Doret's help, had defied the miners' meeting approached him to inquire: "Say, why didn't old Tom come back with you from Linderman?" "Old Tom?" "Sure! Old Tom Linton. We're pardners.
She turned back to Pierce and said: "You've seen the canon. There's nothing so terrible about it, is there?" Phillips was conscious that 'Poleon Doret's eyes were dancing with laughter, and anger at his own weakness flared up in him. "Why, no!" he lied, bravely. "It will be a lot of fun." Kid Bridges leveled a sour look at the speaker. "Some folks have got low ideas of entertainment," said he.
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