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Updated: May 22, 2025
"It certainly has that appearance," answered the girl. "But why should any one do a thing like that?" "That is quite beyond me. It was so brutal a thing to do!" "Some roaming Indian possibly," suggested Miss Yardely thoughtfully. "But as you asked just now, why? Indians are not so rich in cartridges that they can afford to waste them on a mere whim." "No, perhaps not," said the girl.
It was therefore little wonder that Helen Yardely ceased to sing after they had marched but a very little way; and indeed the trail, apart from the apparently growing weight of the pack, was not favourable to song.
"Ah!" he cried, "the timber is on fire! I thought I could smell it." "Yes," she answered, "and the wind is driving the fire this way." "How far away?" he inquired calmly. "Two or three miles." "You will have to go, Miss Yardely," he answered quickly. "The fire travels quickly in such timber as this. You must not mind me " "You want me to run away and leave you to die," cried the girl.
He did not know that other ears than those to which they were addressed caught those words of repudiation. Helen Yardely, missing his presence about the cabin, had stepped out to look for him, and catching a murmur of voices in the still air, had stood listening. The words, coupled with the girl's name, reached her quite clearly, and struck her like a blow.
I think you had better try to sleep. I shall be just outside the tent, and if there is anything you need you must call me. Good night, Mr. Stane. In spite of the forest folk, I expect I shall sleep like a top." "Good night, Miss Yardely."
The long day drew to its close and the camp they sought had not appeared; nor had any search-party materialized. As they pitched camp for the night, the doubt which all day had been in Stane's mind became a certainty. "I am afraid we have made a mistake, Miss Yardely. You must have come down the other river.
He spoke lightly, but there was a grave look on his face, and as she watched him following the snow-shoe tracks to the edge of the ice-bound lake, Helen Yardely knew that he was much disturbed by the mysterious visit of the unknown man. It was snowing again, driving across the lake in the hard wind and drifting in a wonderful wreath about the cabin.
Ainley described Helen Yardely to the best of his ability, watching the other's evil face whilst he did so, and before he had ended guessed that the man knew something of the girl he was seeking. "You have seen her?" he cried abruptly. "Oui!" replied the half-breed. "I haf seen her, one, two, tree days ago.
His face showed a lightening of his anxiety, though it was clear that the turn of events puzzled him. "I can't understand it," he said. "Why shouldn't Helen have made her way straight back here?" "Can't say, Sir James! Possibly the man who helped her doesn't know the country, and of course Miss Yardely is quite ignorant of it."
Things were very difficult for me at home and so I came out here, stumbled on Ainley and you know the rest." Helen Yardely had listened to the talk of the two men without speaking, but now she broke in. "I do not wonder Gerald Ainley did not keep his promise to see you at Fort Malsun. I only wonder that when he arranged for your deportation, as he surely did, he did not arrange for your death."
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