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Updated: May 20, 2025
It opened abruptly quickly but noiselessly, and Nellie Seton's pale, tired face looked out. At sight of him she came forward he asked no questions his eyes looked at her full of a dumb agony of questioning she never forgot. "Charley!" she exclaimed, coming nearer. The first ray of the rising sun streaming through the windows fell full upon her pale face, and it was as the face of an angel.
He met Seton Pasha's cool regard, and: "Margaret's one of the best," he added. "I know you agree with me?" A faint suggestion of added color came into Seton's tanned cheeks. "I do, Gray," he answered quietly.
You may be astonished at my thus venturing to speak to you, a perfect stranger, but I am sure that I may trust Mary Seton's cousin; and if you have the opportunity, I will beg you to tell my father or the good admiral what I say. I dare not write on the subject, nor can I venture to send a verbal message by Maitre Leroux."
Then he stood for awhile gazing out at the wonderful morning daylight, and drinking in the pure prairie air. While he stood thus his thoughts were busy, and a half smile was in his eyes. He was thinking of the irony of the fact that Kate Seton's superstition had completely taken possession of him. Two hours after sunrise McBain and his superior were at work again.
In the northern wilderness, and particularly central Canada, where rabbits exist in great numbers and supply the wants of a large carnivorous population, this plague is well known, and among trappers and woodsmen is a common topic of conversation. The best treatment of the subject is to be found in Ernest T. Seton's "Life Histories of Northern Animals", Vol. I, p. 640 et seq.
The change in the man that rode away from Kate Seton's home as compared with the man who had arrived there less than an hour earlier was so remarkable as to be almost absurd in a man of Stanley Fyles's reputation for stern discipline and uncompromising methods.
"James Seton's got some guinea-pigs that he talks of bringing over for you to see, any day as you'll fix upon." "Oh, that is nice. I do so long to have another!" cried Bobbie rapturously. "I only want three-halfpence-farthing more, and I shall have enough in my money-box to pay for it. Will James wait till Friday?" "Of course he will, Master Bobbie; don't you worry your head about that."
The sun blazed down, a blistering fragrant heat, and the laden atmosphere of the valley suggested only the rusticity, the simple innocence of a pastoral world. At Kate Seton's homestead a profound quiet reigned.
It was about a week after this conversation that Merefleet, invited by Seton, joined his two friends at table d'hôte at their table. The suggestion came from Mab, he strongly suspected, for she seconded Seton's proposal so vigorously that to decline would have been almost an impossibility. "You look so lonely there," she said. "It's miles nicer over here. What's your opinion?"
I thought it at the time very shocking; but I have since learned to believe that prayers at a funeral are uttered more for the sake of the living than the dead, and that to those who have departed it matters nothing how or where their body is laid to rest. Of course we had no shot to fasten to poor Seton's body.
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