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Page 51
With her back against the farther wall, Nepeese was waiting. McTaggart
could hear her panting breath. He advanced halfway to her.
"Nepeese, I have come to make you my wife," he said.
She did not answer. He could see that her breath was choking her. She
raised a hand to her throat. He took two more steps, and stopped. He
had never seen such eyes.
"I have come to make you my wife, Nepeese. Tomorrow you will go on to
Nelson House with me, and then back to Lac Bain--forever." He added the
last word as an afterthought. "Forever," he repeated.
He did not mince words. His courage and his determination rose as he
saw her body droop a little against the wall. She was powerless. There
was no escape. Pierrot was gone. Baree was dead.
He had thought that no living creature could move as swiftly as the
Willow when his arms reached out for her. She made no sound as she
darted under one of his outstretched arms. He made a lunge, a savage
grab, and his fingers caught a bit of hair. He heard the snap of it as
she tore herself free and flew to the door. She had thrown back the
bolt when he caught her and his arms closed about her. He dragged her
back, and now she cried out--cried out in her despair for Pierrot, for
Baree, for some miracle of God that might save her.
And Nepeese fought. She twisted in his arms until she was facing him.
She could no longer see. She was smothered in her own hair. It covered
her face and breast and body, suffocating her, entangling her hands and
arms--and still she fought. In the struggle McTaggart stumbled over the
body of Baree, and they went down. Nepeese was up fully five seconds
ahead of the man. She could have reached the door. But again it was her
hair. She paused to fling back the thick masses of it so that she could
see, and McTaggart was at the door ahead of her.
He did not lock it again, but stood facing her. His face was scratched
and bleeding. He was no longer a man but a devil. Nepeese was broken,
panting--a low sobbing came with every breath. She bent down, and
picked up a piece of firewood. McTaggart could see that her strength
was almost gone.
She clutched the stick as he approached her again. But McTaggart had
lost all thought of fear or caution. He sprang upon her like an animal.
The stick of firewood fell. And again fate played against the girl. In
her terror and hopelessness she had caught up the first stick her hand
had touched--a light one. With her last strength she hurled it at
McTaggart, and as it struck his head, he staggered back. But it did not
make him loose his hold.
Vainly she was fighting now, not to strike him or to escape, but to get
her breath. She tried to cry out again, but this time no sound came
from between her gasping lips.
Again he laughed, and as he laughed, he heard the door open. Was it the
wind? He turned, still holding her in his arms.
In the open door stood Pierrot.
CHAPTER 21
During that terrible interval which followed an eternity of time passed
slowly through the little cabin on the Gray Loon--that eternity which
lies somewhere between life and death and which is sometimes meted out
to a human life in seconds instead of years.
In those seconds Pierrot did not move from where he stood in the
doorway. McTaggart, encumbered with the weight in his arms, and staring
at Pierrot, did not move. But the Willow's eyes were opening. And at
the same moment a convulsive quiver ran through the body of Baree,
where he lay near the wall. There was not the sound of a breath. And
then, in that silence, a great gasping sob came from Nepeese.
Then Pierrot stirred to life. Like McTaggart, he had left his coat and
mittens outside. He spoke, and his voice was not like Pierrot's. It was
a strange voice.
"The great God has sent me back in time, m'sieu," he said. "I, too,
traveled by way of the east, and saw your trail where it turned this
way."
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