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"But the fire is out in the kitchen," objected Misery, in the spirit of Pierrot's friend. "Then let it be re-lighted," commanded Madame. "At such times as these, the fire has not the right to be out." Monsieur marshalled us into the café, a large long room forming part of the hotel; by no means the best waiting-place after a long and tiring day.
An answering cry rose in his throat, dying away in a whine, and for an hour after that he heard no more of the wolf-cry in the wind. The pack had swung to the west so far away that their voices were lost. And it passed with the moon straight over them close to the shack of Pierrot, the halfbreed. In Pierrot's cabin was a white man, on his way to Fort O' God.
And then, in that silence, a great gasping sob came from Nepeese. Then Pierrot stirred to life. Like McTaggart, he had left his coat and mittens outside. He spoke, and his voice was not like Pierrot's. It was a strange voice. "The great God has sent me back in time, m'sieu," he said. "I, too, traveled by way of the east, and saw your trail where it turned this way."
Slowly he followed the trail and a quarter of a mile from the cabin struck the first trap on the line. Hunger had caved in his sides until he was like a starved wolf. In the first trap house McTaggart had placed as bait the hindquarter of a snowshoe rabbit. Baree reached in cautiously. He had learned many things on Pierrot's line: he had learned what the snap of a trap meant.
Let us see how he calls himself: 'Hippolyte Pierrot, stay and corset-maker to her Majesty the Empress, No. 22 Rue du Bac, third floor above the entresol. Diable! we 're high up. Unfortunately, I am scarcely intimate enough to bring a friend." "Oh, make no excuses on that head," said I, laughing; "I really have no desire to see Monsieur Hippolyte Pierrot's menage.
He, would have her if it cost PIERROT'S LIFE. And WHY NOT? It was all so easy. A shot on a lonely trap line, a single knife thrust and who would know? Who would guess where Pierrot had gone? And it would all be Pierrot's fault. For the last time he had seen Pierrot, he had made an honest proposition: he would marry Nepeese. Yes, even that. He had told Pierrot so.
Next morning Henley goes to find him, takes him to the tent, not through the door, which would be fastened probably in some way, but surreptitiously, through some weak spot in the pegging down very likely." "But why should he wait until the man had got into the pierrot's dress before murdering him?" said Zena.
The appalling thing, after all, was not that both Pierrot and Nepeese were dead, but that his dream was shattered. It was not that Nepeese was dead, but that he had lost her. This was his vital disappointment. The other thing his crime it was easy to destroy all traces of that. It was not sentiment that made him dig Pierrot's grave close to the princess mother's under the tall spruce.
The man was just about to disappear into the thick spruce. He paused, and looked back. "Coming, Boy?" Even at that distance Baree could see him grinning affably. He saw the outstretched hand, and the voice stirred new sensations in him. It was not like Pierrot's voice. He had never loved Pierrot. Neither was it soft and sweet like the Willow's.
He was more interested in the dress than in the man, examining it very carefully with his lens. The stockings and shoes came in for close inspection, also the comical pierrot's hat, which he fitted to the dead man's head for a moment. "Had he his hat on when he was pulled from under the platform?" he asked. "No. It was found after the doctor's examination, close to where the body had been."
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