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Updated: June 20, 2025
A tear splashed upon his hand, a tear like a pearl. "And there was something else, Ygerne," he said gently. "Look. The winter has left it and no man has come here to find it."
The doctor had gotten back to Lebarge before Marshall Sothern sent for Ygerne. She came without delay. "This man is very sick," he told her, bending a searching look at her from under brows shaggy in thought. "He talks of you very much. Does he love you or does he hate you?" She looked at him coolly, her gaze defying him to pry into matters which did not concern him.
And now I am going to her . . . with all I love in life telling me . . . good-bye. You, Max, my boy . . . you, Davie, my son . . . you, Ygerne, my daughter. . . ." Ygerne, a sob shaking at her breast, rose swiftly and went out. But in a moment she was back, bringing with her a little flask of brandy. The eyes of Ramon Garcia, the only eyes in the room to follow her, grew unutterly sad.
By his foot was a square box of chocolates peeping out at him. He had telegraphed . . . where was it? . . . to Edmontville for them. They were for Ygerne. There on the log, right where she had sat, under the little chip of bark, was her necklace of pearls. She was coming for it in a moment, coming like Aurora's own sweet self through the dawn. He had telegraphed for that, too.
It seemed a tangible thing, not a visioned nothing born of nothingness and to perish utterly in a twinkling. "A promise that is a lie," he said to himself bitterly. "Like the promises of men." And then . . . to his startled fancies she had come into being like the rainbow, from nothingness . . . where the foot of the arch had appeared to rest stood the girl, Ygerne.
There had been only three loitering men and one woman enjoying Joe's hospitality as they went out. The men were Lemarc, Sefton and Ramon Garcia, the woman Ernestine Dumont. Drennen saw that Ygerne made cool pretence of seeing none of them; Lemarc and Sefton had no doubt lingered to watch her leave and she did not take kindly to such espionage.
Drennen had more money than he needed; he had an assured income from the newly rediscovered Golden Girl; there were still other mines in the world for the man who could find them; and he had merely done for Ygerne Bellaire the first thing she had asked of him. In Drennen's eyes, in this intoxicated mood, it seemed a very little thing.
Vancouver knew him, coming and going where a man might search such quarry as his, in gambling halls, high and low, in cafes, at hotels. For he had had a hint that perhaps Ygerne and the men with her had gone on to Vancouver. In January he drew heavily against his account in the bank of Lebarge.
"On the seventh day, in the morning early, will you meet me here, Ygerne?" And Ygerne promised. Drennen, presenting himself early upon the second morning in the offices of the Northwestern Mining Company, found that he was expected. A clerk, arranging papers of the day's work upon his desk, came forward quickly, a look of interest in his eyes. "Mr. Drennen?" he asked. "Yes." "This way, sir.
"And I want the best dinner for two you can put on. Trimmings and all." Joe, slipping the first of Drennen's money into his pocket and cherishing high hopes of more, set himself and his boy to work, seeing his way of arriving at the second gold piece with no great loss of time. The long northern twilight was an hour old when Drennen called for Ygerne.
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