Mrs. Falchion, Volume 2_

cared for him. Angered or indignant at her treatment of him, Roscoe's affections declined unworthily elsewhere. Then came a catastrophe of some kind, in which Alo (whoever she was) suf

somehow she had been wronged, and it was her duty to punish. In no other way was the position definable. That Roscoe would never marry her was certain to my mind. That he could not marry her now was also certain-to me; I had the means to prevent it. That she wished to marry

Falchion. I was playing a blind game, but it was the only card I held. I had heard from the lawyer in Montreal that Madras, under a

w that my opportunity would come wherein to spy upon the mind of the enemy. It came. On the evening that Justine Caron called upon Roscoe, I accidentally met Mrs. Falchion in the

n I called on Miss Devlin, my time was limited. But now I have a thirst for adventure, and time hangs heavy. W

with her; and I suggested that we should go late in the afternoon of the next day, and remain till night and see the Ind

ture at Sunburst. It had needed a great deal of watchfulness on the part of Mr. Devlin and his supporters to prevent fighting. In Sunburst itself, Mr. Devlin had much personal influence. He was a man of exceedingly strong character, bold, powerful, persuasive. But this year there had been a large number of roug

thing strange. What particular catastrophe have you arranged

e play by antici

she retorted. "Comedy would be a

medy. But I promise you that one of these days I wil

sors always pose. But now, to be perfectly frank with you, I do not beli

Much Ado about N

ood as that, is

I spoke with some undercurrent of meaning. "Mrs. Falchion," I said to her suddenly and earn

sk set an undergraduat

id I, "of the fact that I

ok shot into her face, and h

at she had said, she continued in a lower tone and with a kind of impulsiveness uncommon t

ext afternoon, when I joined her and her party at the

to the foot-hills. This was on one side of the Whi-Whi River. On the other side was a narrow margin, and then a sheer wall of hills in exquisite verdure. The houses were of wood, and chiefly painted white, sweet and cool in the vast greenness. Cattle wandered shoulders deep in the rich grass, and fruit of all kinds was to be had for the picking. The population was strangely mixed. Men

tiny waterfalls, was the pathway for millions and millions of salmon upon a pilgrimage to the West and North- to the happy hunting grounds of spawn. They came in droves so thick at times that, crowding up the little creeks which ran into the river, they filled them so completely as to dam up the water and make the courses a solid mass of living and dead fish. In the river itself

much together, and my conversation with Mrs. Falchion was general. We had supper at a quiet little tavern, id

icial interest in all we saw. And there was much to see. Far up and down the river the fragrant dusk was spotted with the smoky red light of torches, and the atmosphere shook with shadows, through which ran the song of the river, more amiable than the song of the saw, and the low, weird cry of the Indians and white men as they toiled for salmon in the glare of the torches. Here upon a scaffolding a half-dozen swung their

resque, heroic way. These old hymns were written in Chinook, that strange language,-French, English, Spanish, Indian, arranged by the Hudson's Bay Company, which is, like the wampum-belt, a common tongue for tribes and peoples not speaking any language but their own. They were set to old airs-lullabies, chansons, barcarolles, serenades, taken out of the folk-lore of many lands. Time and again had these simple arcadian airs been sung as a prelud

boat to boat, and from house to house, the Chinook song rang and was caught up in a slow monotone, so not interfering with t

" I asked Mrs. Falchion, as, with her

seemed trying to call back her mind to consider my question. Presently she answered me: "Very little. There is something finer,

er you are, M

"You say it with the air of a discoverer. With Columbus and Hervey and you, the world

eel a personal satisfaction in your being a woman wh

n' sounds very royal a

u took a-personal s

live a fresh, outdoor life-you do that-naturally act most

t you thought I acted unfairl

looking at those miserable scenes on the 'Fulvia', when Madras

are not the same w

e answered: "and by what

u are sorry now-I ho

ble. You said once that the matter should be buried, and yet here you wo

ould never bring up those wretched scenes

What cause-what possib

"I am bound to stand

I will st

me as if I were a common adventuress. You mistake me, and forget that y

I think of you as an adventuress. But I am

to suppose this or that. Be wise do not irritate and annoy a wo

you-so well that some day you will feel that I h

You talk in foolish riddles

is moved by the love of a man, you will be just, and then

ke out scornfully-"you co

efore. If she became emotional, was vulnerable in her feelings, I knew that Roscoe's peace might be assured. That she loved Roscoe now I was quite certai

e quietness, "Do not force me to

oo," I answered. "

referring to her husband's death. "Well," I replied, "I hon

ently: "No, let us sit here and f

at down. She watched

that it would be my lo

d seen before; but all

or my friend, for

ir labour and their songs, the tall dark hills, the deep gloomy pastures, the

got up to see. A score of river-drivers were marching down through the village, mocking the fishers and

ble here one day,"

ich will clear t

turesque, at least," she added cheerfull

wered; "lives do not cou

ful, but I like

e did