Always his
mind traveled back to the beginning of things, no matter how hard he
tried to forget--even to the old days of years and years ago when he had
toted the little Marie around on his back, and had crumpled her brown
curls, and had revealed to her one by one the marvelous mysteries of the
wilderness, with never a thought of the wonderful love that was to come.
A half frozen little outcast brought in from the deep snows one day by
Marie's father, he became first her playmate and brother--and after that
lived in a few swift years of paradise and dreams. For Marie he had made
of himself what he was. He had gone to Montreal. He had learned to read
and write, he worked for the Company, he came to know the outside world,
and at last the Government employed him. This was a triumph. He could
still see the glow of pride and love in Marie's beautiful eyes when he
came home after those two years in the great city. The Government sent
for him each autumn after that. Deep into the wilderness he led the men
who made the red and black lined maps. It was he who blazed out the
northern limit of Banksian pine, and his name was in Government reports
down in black and white--so that Marie and all the world could read.
One day he came back--and he found Clarry O'Grady at the Cummins' cabin.
He had been there for a month with a broken leg. Perhaps it was the
dangerous knowledge of the power of her beauty--the woman's instinct in
her to tease with her prettiness, that led to Marie's flirtation with
O'Grady.
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