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Page 52
No, that was not like Pierrot's voice! A chill ran through McTaggart
now, and slowly he let go of Nepeese. She fell to the floor. Slowly he
straightened.
"Is it not true, m'sieu?" said Pierrot again. "I have come in time?"
What power was it--what great fear, perhaps, that made McTaggart nod
his head, that made his thick lips form huskily the words, "Yes--in
time." And yet it was not fear. It was something greater, something
more all-powerful than that. And Pierrot said, in that same strange
voice:
"I thank the great God!"
The eyes of madman met the eyes of madman now. Between them was death.
Both saw it. Both thought that they saw the direction in which its bony
finger pointed. Both were certain. McTaggart's hand did not go to the
pistol in his holster, and Pierrot did not touch the knife in his belt.
When they came together, it was throat to throat--two beasts now,
instead of one, for Pierrot had in him the fury and strength of the
wolf, the cat, and the panther.
McTaggart was the bigger and heavier man, a giant in strength; yet in
the face of Pierrot's fury he lurched back over the table and went down
with a crash. Many times in his life he had fought, but he had never
felt a grip at his throat like the grip of Pierrot's hands. They almost
crushed the life from him at once. His neck snapped--a little more, and
it would have broken. He struck out blindly, and twisted himself to
throw off the weight of the half-breed's body. But Pierrot was fastened
there, as Sekoosew the ermine had fastened itself at the jugular of the
partridge, and Bush McTaggart's jaws slowly swung open, and his face
began to turn from red to purple.
Cold air rushing through the door, Pierrot's voice and the sound of
battle roused Nepeese quickly to consciousness and the power to raise
herself from the floor. She had fallen near Baree, and as she lifted
her head, her eyes rested for a moment on the dog before they went to
the fighting men. Baree was alive! His body was twitching; his eyes
were open. He made an effort to raise his head as she was looking at
him.
Then she dragged herself to her knees and turned to the men, and
Pierrot, even in the blood-red fury of his desire to kill, must have
heard the sharp cry of joy that came from her when she saw that it was
the factor from Lac Bain who was underneath. With a tremendous effort
she staggered to her feet, and for a few moments she stood swaying
unsteadily as her brain and her body readjusted themselves. Even as she
looked down upon the blackening face from which Pierrot's fingers were
choking the life, Bush McTaggart's hand was groping blindly for his
pistol. He found it. Unseen by Pierrot, he dragged it from its holster.
It was one of the black devils of chance that favored him again, for in
his excitement he had not snapped the safety shut after shooting Baree.
Now he had only strength left to pull the trigger. Twice his forefinger
closed. Twice there came deadened explosion close to Pierrot's body.
In Pierrot's face Nepeese saw what had happened. Her heart died in her
breast as she looked upon the swift and terrible change wrought by
sudden death. Slowly Pierrot straightened. His eyes were wide for a
moment--wide and staring. He made no sound. She could not see his lips
move. And then he fell toward her, so that McTaggart's body was free.
Blindly and with an agony that gave no evidence in cry or word she
flung herself down beside her father. He was dead.
How long Nepeese lay there, how long she waited for Pierrot to move, to
open his eyes, to breathe, she would never know. In that time McTaggart
rose to his feet and stood leaning against the wall, the pistol in his
hand, his brain clearing itself as he saw his final triumph. His work
did not frighten him. Even in that tragic moment as he stood against
the wall, his defense--if it ever came to a defense--framed itself in
his mind. Pierrot had murderously assaulted him--without cause. In
self-defense he had killed him. Was he not the Factor of Lac Bain?
Would not the company and the law believe his word before that of this
girl? His brain leaped with the old exultation. It would never come to
that--to a betrayal of this struggle and death in the cabin--after he
had finished with her! She would not be known for all time as La Bete
Noir. No, they would bury Pierrot, and she would return to Lac Bain
with him. If she had been helpless before, she was ten times more
helpless now. She would never tell of what had happened in the cabin.
He forgot the presence of death as he looked at her, bowed over her
father so that her hair covered him like a silken-shroud. He replaced
the pistol in its holster and drew a deep breath into his lungs. He was
still a little unsteady on his feet, but his face was again the face of
a devil. He took a step, and it was then there came a sound to rouse
the girl. In the shadow of the farther wall Baree had struggled to his
haunches, and now he growled.
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