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I have no other way to keep myself decent before you." "What would you have? All must serve or we die." Madam Manovska spoke, "It is well, Sir 'Arry King, you carry your head like one prince, for I will make of you one peasant in this blouse."
It fell like lead upon his heart, so full of anxiety was he for the good friend who might even then be climbing up the trail. Madam Manovska observed his drawn face, and thought he suffered only from anxiety and tried to comfort him. Amalia also attempted to cover her own anxiety by assurances that the good St.
"Madam Manovska, Amalia and I are going up the trail a little way, and we may be gone some time, but I'll take good care of her." He smiled reassuringly: "We mustn't waste the sunny days. When Mr. Kildene returns, you also must ride sometimes." "Ah, yes. When? When? It is long very long." "But, maybe, not so long, mamma. Soon now must he come. I think it."
As you say, there is no need as long as it is so still and the clouds are thin the snow will do little harm. It would be the driving, fine snow and the drifts that would delay him." "Yes, snow as we have it in the terrible Russia. I know such snow well," said Madam Manovska. They went in and closed the door, and sat down to eat.
She will be here in a moment and then I will set that room in order for you, and " his voice shook so that he was obliged to pause. He stooped again to her and spoke softly: "Amalia Manovska, stop weeping. Your tears fall on my heart." "Ah, what have happen, to you to Amalia ? Those terrible men 'rouge'!" cried Madam Manovska, hurrying forward. "Oh, Madam, I am glad you have come.
She thinks they must always, with never stopping, see the 'Eye' that regards forever. This also must Victor Hugo know well, since for his country he also is driven in exile and can see the terrible 'Eye' go to punish his enemies." Then Madam Manovska began repeating in her strong, deep tones the lines:
For a while they were silent, and Madam Manovska began to move about the cabin, setting the things in order. She did not seem to have taken any interest in their talk. Harry rose to go, but first he looked in Amalia's eyes. "The perfect Music of God?" He said the words slowly and questioningly. "You understand my meaning?" "I can't say. Do you?"
At last, comforted a little, she took up the torch and, flushed and tearful, walked down in the darkness to the cabin and crept into bed. For the first two days of Harry King's absence Madam Manovska relapsed into a more profound melancholy, and the care of her mother took up Amalia's time and thoughts so completely as to give her little for indulging her own anxiety for Harry's safety.
Frantically she tore off twigs of the scrubby pines around them, and made a fragrant bed of pine needles and moss on which to rest. Then she woke her mother. Sane and practical on all subjects but the one, Madam Manovska roused herself to meet this new difficulty with the old courage, and climbed with Amalia's help to their wild resting place without a word of complaint.
Then he continued, after a moment of self-mastery: "No true repentance for me but to go back and take the punishment. For this winter I will live here in peace, and do for Madam Manovska and her daughter what I can, and anything I can do for you, then I must return and give myself up. The gold only holds out a worldly hope to me, and makes what I must do seem harder. I am afraid of it."
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