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Updated: June 1, 2025
I knew I was pale as death, for as I turned to leave the room I caught sight of my face in a little mirror tacked on the door, and I hardly recognised myself. "'Good-day, Mr. Fawdor, said the governor, handing me the map. 'There is some brandy in your stores; be careful that none of your Indians get it.
Fawdor, said he coldly, spreading out a map on the table before him, 'you will start at once for Fort Ungava, at Ungava Bay, in Labrador. I felt my heart stand still for a moment, and then surge up and down, like a piston-rod under a sudden rush of steam. 'You will proceed now, he went on, in his hard voice, 'as far as the village of Pont Croix. There you will find three Indians awaiting you.
"The answer is well," returned Fawdor; "but what is the greatest commandment that a man can make for himself?" "Who can tell? What is the good of saying, 'Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath day, when a man lives where he does not know the days? What is the good of saying, 'Thou shalt not steal, when a man has no heart to rob, and there is nothing to steal?
The letters were lost, I suppose, on the way to me, somehow who can tell? Then came another thing, so strange, that it seemed like the laughter of the angels at us. These were her words: 'And, dear Mr. Fawdor, you were both wrong in that quotation, as you no doubt discovered long ago. Then she gave me the sentence as it is in Cymbeline. She was right, quite right. We were both wrong.
Never till her letter came had I looked to see. How vain, how uncertain, and fallible, is man!" Pierre dropped his cigarette, and stared at Fawdor. "The knowledge of books is foolery," he said slowly. "Man is the only book of life. Go on."
"There was another letter, from the brother, who was now high up in the Company, asking me to come to England, and saying that they wished to promote me far, and that he and his sister, with their families, would be glad to see me." "She was married then?" The rashness of the suggestion made Fawdor wave his hand impatiently. He would not reply to it. "I was struck down with all the news," he said.
The letters were lost, I suppose, on the way to me, somehow who can tell? Then came another thing, so strange, that it seemed like the laughter of the angels at us. These were her words: 'And, dear Mr. Fawdor, you were both wrong in that quotation, as you no doubt discovered long ago. Then she gave me the sentence as it is in Cymbeline. She was right, quite right. We were both wrong.
The lofty tales sang in his veins: of primitive man, adventure, mysterious and exalted romance. For nearly an hour, with absorbing interest, he had read aloud from these ancient chronicles to Fawdor, who held this Post of the Hudson's Bay Company in the outer wilderness.
Come away to England, leave your half-breed in charge, and ask the governor for a big promotion. He did not understand. Of course I said I could not go. Then he turned on me, he was a good man, and said, 'This will either make you madman or saint, Fawdor. He drew a Bible from his pocket and handed it to me.
I did not wake till morning, and then it was to find the governor's nephew building up the fire again. 'Those who are born great, said he, 'are bound to rise. But perhaps he saw that I had had a bad night, and felt that he had gone far enough, for he presently said, in a tone more to my liking, 'Take my advice, Mr. Fawdor; make it right with my uncle.
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