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Updated: May 25, 2025
They realised that these two men had an account to settle, and there was no need for Grassette to take revenge, for Bignold was going fast. "You stan' far back," said Grassette, and they fell away. Then he stooped down to the sunken, ashen face, over which death was fast drawing its veil. "Marcile where is Marcile?" he asked. The dying man's lips opened.
"His name is Bignold," the Governor answered. He turned to the Sheriff inquiringly. "That is it, is it not?" he asked in English again. "James Tarran Bignold," answered the Sheriff. The effect of these words upon Grassette was remarkable.
Then he saw himself, his money all gone, but the luck still with him, at Mass on the Sunday before going to the backwoods lumber-camp for the winter, as boss of a hundred men. He had a way with him, and he had brains, had Jacques Grassette, and he could manage men, as Michelin the lumber-king himself had found in a great river-row and strike, when bloodshed seemed certain.
He looked at Grassette with a look of poignant pity and interest combined.
A man's life is in danger, or it may be he is dead; but more likely he is alive. You took a life; perhaps you can save one now. Keeley's Gulch, the mine there!" "They have found it gold?" asked Grassette, his eyes staring. He was forgetting for a moment where and what he was. "He went to find it, the man whose life is in danger. He had heard from a trapper who had been a miner once.
If he went, he could save his own life by saving Bignold, if Bignold was alive; or he could go and not save Bignold's life or his own! What would he do? The Governor watched him with a face controlled to quietness, but with an anxiety which made him pale in spite of himself. "What will you do, Grassette?" he said at last in a low voice, and with a step forwards to him.
In his own placid life he had never had any tragic happening, his blood had run coolly, his days had been blessed by an urbane fate; such scenes as this were but a spectacle to him; there was no answering chord of human suffering in his own breast to make him realize what Grassette was undergoing now; but he had read widely, he had been an acute observer of the world and its happenings, and he had a natural human sympathy which had made many a man and woman eternally grateful to him.
He looked at Grassette with a look of poignant pity and interest combined.
If I stayed here, I would kill again, I would kill kill." "Then to go free altogether that would be the wish of all the world, if you save this man's life, if it can be saved. Will you not take the chance? We all have to die some time or other, Grassette, some sooner, some later; and when you go, will you not want to take to God in your hands a life saved for a life taken?
In his own placid life he had never had any tragic happening, his blood had run coolly, his days had been blessed by an urbane fate; such scenes as this were but a spectacle to him; there was no answering chord of human suffering in his own breast, to make him realise what Grassette was undergoing now; but he had read widely, he had been an acute observer of the world and its happenings, and he had a natural human sympathy which had made many a man and woman eternally grateful to him.
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