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Updated: July 20, 2025
And in the end, the end coming swiftly now, it was well. With David Drennen and Ygerne and Max close about him, his last sensation the touch of their hands, his last sight the sight of their tear-wet faces, knowing that when he was gone there would be one to comfort his son, he died. It was dawn.
I'll be gone a week at most. And then . . . and then, Ygerne . . ." He had been holding her a little away from him so that he could look into her eyes, his soul drinking deep of the wine of them. Now he broke off sharply, a swift frown driving for the instant the radiance of his joy from his face.
Lemarc and Sefton, speaking together, had dropped far behind; Hasbrook was close to Madden's elbow. So they passed down the street. Ygerne Bellaire, standing now in front of Marquette's, watched them wonderingly. Sothern came first to the dugout. The door being open, he passed in without stopping. He laid the inert form down gently and came back to the door.
Already he had forgotten them. His thoughts went back to Ygerne Bellaire, to the scene at the window. The moon pushed a great golden disc up over the ridge. It was at the full and made glorious patterns of light through the forest. Little voices of the night which he had not heard until now began to thrill and quiver under the soft light.
Now and then her fingers stole from her lap to the old coins about her; once or twice her fingers travelled slowly to her breast where the diamonds lay hidden. Garcia did not move. As commanded he faced the wall. Once or twice only he turned his head a little, his eyes paying no heed to Drennen but seeking Ygerne. And his eyes were not gay now, but restless and troubled.
He selected corduroy breeches and a soft black hat and returned to his dugout, leaving fifty dollars upon the counter. And when he had dressed and had laughed at himself he went back up the muddy road for Ygerne. But first he stopped at Joe's. "I want the private room," he said, and Joe nodded eagerly as he saw Drennen's hand emerge from his pocket.
"Coward!" she panted, and he knew how the red lips curled to the words. Even that picture but made madder the mad longing upon him. With his ugly laugh at the odd twist of feminine logic which had applied such an epithet at such a time, he came swiftly toward her. As he came on Ygerne fired.
Mère Jeanne looked at him shrewdly, with little hesitation made up her mind that he came as a lover, left him at the door and went to the girl. A moment later Ygerne entered the little living room. Drennen stepped across the threshold. "I wanted to talk with you," he said gravely. The girl shot a quick, curious look at him and went to a chair. "Will you come outside with me?" he asked quietly.
A great, unreasonable and still a natural fear sprang up in his heart; he went down upon his knees with a half sob gripping at his throat. It was a woman, her body twisting before him, and he was afraid that it was Ygerne and that she was dying. Her face was hidden, an arm was flung up, her loosened hair fell wildly about her temples and cheeks.
He rose again, almost immediately, picked up the two revolvers and the knife, dropped them to the floor under his bench and sat down again. Ygerne in a little, her eyes never leaving his face, sat where she had been standing, upon the rug amidst the scattered gold.
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