The Right of Way, Complete
ravelled man. He had adventured freely on the great rivers and in the forests,
ooked forty, for it had been marked by his disappearance from Chaudiere and his return at the end of it, to find his mother dead and his father dying broken-hearte
away, where he lived apart from all his kind. It was here he brought the man with the eye-glass one early dawn, after two nights and two days on the river, pulling him up the long hill in a low cart with his strong faithful dogs, hitchi
echanically on his breast. At last his fingers found his monocle. He feebly put
gazed with painful, pathetic seriousness at Jo. This grew to a kind of childish terror; then slowly, as a shadow passes, the perplexity, anxiety and terror cleared away, a
thirst
he drank, drank, drank to repletion. When
he said. "I shall be hu
to the last drop and crumb, he lay back with a sigh of content, but trembling from weakness an
and to his head and said to Jo: "It hurts." Then Jo would cool the wound with fresh wat
the first day in the hut at Vadrome Mountain passed without
sight, the fumbling of the blind soul in its cell-fumbling for the latch which it could not find, for the door which would not open. The first day on the raft, as Charley had opened his eyes upon the world again after that awful night at the Cote Dorion, Jo. had seen that s
and do a woodsman's work. Indoors he regarded all Jo did with eager interest and a pleased, complacent look, and readily did as he was told. He seldom spoke-not above three or four times a day, and then simply and directly, and only concerning his wants. From first to last he never asked a question, and there
n and said no word, but patiently awaited Jo's return. So it was that, at last, Jo made no attempt to lock the door, but with a nod or a good-bye left him alone. When Charle
little, for Jo never went to confession, and seldom to mass. On this occasion the Cure arrived when Jo was out in the woods. He discovered Charley. Charley made no answer to his astonished and friendly greeting, but watched him with a wide-eyed anxiety till the Cure seated himself at the doo
tched him with satisfaction
dering in the woods, with a wound in his head, and had brought him
understood Jo's interest in this man with the look of a child and no memory: Jo's life was terribly lonely; he had no one to care for, and n
emory came back? Would it come back-what chance was there of its ever coming back? Jo said that they ought to wait and se
be wished at the moment? The Cure was a simple man, and when Jo urged that if the sick man could get well anywhere in the world it would be at Vadrome Mountain in Chaudiere, the Cure's parochial pride was roused, and he was re
g eyes-full fixed on the good M. Loisel, whose grey hair, thin peaceful
racious to thee, my son," Charley nodded in a friendly way. He watche
, but he sometimes laughed a mirthful, natural boy's laugh of good spirits and contentment. From that day his interest in things increased, and before two months went round, while yet it was late autumn, he looked in perfect health. He ate moderately, drank a great deal of water, and slept half the circle of the clock each day. His skin was like silk; the colour of his face was as that of an apple; he was more than ever Beauty Steele. The Cure came two or
. The Cure had told his brother the story, and had been met by a keen, astonished interest in the unknown man on Vadrome Mountain. A slight pressure on the brain from accident had b
surgical operation? He was so used to people getting ill and getting well without a doctor-the nearest was twenty miles distant-or getting ill and dying in what seemed a natural and preordained way, t
rely mediaeval, and that he had sacrificed his mental powers on the altar of a simple faith, which might
over, laid his hand on his brother's sh
hock me. Indee
ds, and added "Come then, Marcel. We will
He went on working at the cupboard under his hand. His cap was off and his hair was a little rumpled where the wound had been, for he had a habit of rubbing the place now and then-an abstracted, sensitive motion-although he seemed to suffer no pain. The
eyes. It was like a troubled ghost, flitting along the boundaries of sight and sense, and leaving a chill and a horrified wonder behind. The surgeon gazed on, and the trouble in Charley's eye passed to his face, stayed an instant.
ch of the lip with the tongue, w
istance. As they emerged into the wider road-paths that began half-way down the moun
Marcel?" The surgeon tu
pain, no responsibility, no trouble-nothing b
olly changed his mind since that first talk wit
suggested the surgeon
r duty to
eh? And if I look after
in God's ha
troubles, he has had? What struggles, temptations, sins? He
not life,
ed. This morning it was I w
ferently n
and playfully on hi
that I should hesitate? Am I a se
think of th
ith memory come again s
l pray
e isn't a
inners," said the Cu
s brother affectionately. "Upon my soul, dear Prosper,
was following at a little distance. This see
er return now
o answered, then looked i
tugais. Have you a stead
recation, and turned to the Cu
has a gift. He has cured many in the parish with his herbs
of us. Medicine is a gift, surgery is a gift and an art. You shall hear from me, Port
ng, M'
le. Good-day
raised his fingers in benediction, as J
ven the poor man any herbs or tin
ack tinctures hav
do you
d be bad for him," the su
aying: "The man was a dr