Joyce of the North Woods

the dark pointed pines guarded it on either side until within ten feet of the house. The house itself sat cosily in th

fireplace and mantel-shelf were Gaston's pride and delight. Upon them he had worked his fanciful designs, and the result was most satisfactory. There was a low, broad couch near the hearth piled with pine cushions covered with odds and end

's bedchamber and sanctum. No on

s was covered with white sheets and a pair of fine, handsome, red blankets. An iron-bound chest stood by the bed with a padlock strong enough to guard a king's treasure, a

tumpy ones, with the small bowls for the brief whiff when one did not choose to keep company with himself for long, but was willing to be sociable for a moment. There were the comfortable, self-caring pipes that obligingly kept lighted between long puffs while the mas

r the maples. His hands were plunged deep in the pockets of his corduroy trousers, his long legs extended, and his h

of thirty-five; browned by an out-of-door life,

the result of years of well-fought battles. Once the will was off guard, a certain softness of the eyes, and a

t a full light upon the words that had caught the reader

e of its humanity, as accurate as it is possible, under the circumstances, to that particular spirit. The soul here separates itself from its own idiosyncrasy, or individuality, and considers its own being, not as appert

ared and detested him, but there was no doubt he had left trails of glory in his wake, for the comfort of

on the body," and he was growing more and more confident, that in these self-imposed crises he was gaining not only streng

t became intense, and the noises of the summer night magnified. The windows and doo

etails annoyed him. With the waning enthusiasm of achievement, from his point of vantage of abandonment, he was trying to see beyond this

manhood a time back had shaken him alm

n, so childishly interested in the fairy tales of another sort of existence that he kept from decay by repeating to her. And then that sudden, upleaping flame in the purple-black eyes.

ivering little thing away quietly, and with no sense of bitterness, until he had threshed the matter out. And then in the Long Meadow,

n. But Joyce was demanding her woman's rights. Demanding them none the less insistently, because she w

ell with much the same feeling that one has who kisses the unconscious lips of

t of feverish comfort now in contemplating what might have been. Many a man-and h

e of his love and protection. Not in any low or self-seeking sense would the girl have responded-of that, too, he was aware; but as a lovel

honour! His honour and hers, and the benediction of So

as Jude Lauzoon who, for some unknown, girlish reason, she had preferred

dren to drag her from her individual superiority to their everlasting demands upon her. Perhaps Jude would treat her, eventually, as other St. Angé

saw her flitting about his home-who was there to hold her b

s and years would have stretched on, and nothing would have interrupted the pure passage of their lives until death had taken one or both. Gaston sat upright, and flung the pipe away. Suppose he s

e-he must forego his own soul's good; forego the hope that he might

d Joyce up, but to save her soul alive from the hope he reserved for

lf. He had his hope; Joyce was to h

lf-imposed, but none the less dreary. He was so human in his inclinations, so pitifully dependent upon his environment; and since he had stepped from the train

own. All should be as it was, except for Joyce, and even she, now that he was sure of himself

ck ear detected the

without getting up. "Step

m the outer darkness. The salutation made h

n carried the lamp into the livi

ept his eyes upon his caller. Jude grew restless under the calm inspection. He had come with a go

yce Birkdale's? I co

his man he had but recently begun to have any feeling toward

alted. He had meant to approach the announcement of his engagement to Joyce by telling Gaston what he had seen from the hilltop that afternoon and what

to ease the strain. He pushed the tobacco-jar forwar

cards likewise, and-and drink; I'

ng with the past. The smoke of his burning bridges was still in Gaston's consciousness. He

aze faltered, then

to it-or smoke over it? W

uld not decline. So their h

drew the inevitable pipe from his pocket, filled and ligh

ween puffs, "I want

and the tone brought back h

up. Just got the call, you know. Before this, she's been dreaming, and God alone knows where she got her dream material. Like the

utsider did mightily stir him to depths he had never fathomed before. Sudd

I want that darn well understood between you and me, Mr. Gaston! I don't want any interference in my affair

her liked Jude the better for his uprising; but h

uzoon; the laug

fully awake. Her kind goes well enough in harness if the other one pulls a fair s

ot so far as the women is concerned. How in thunder is a woman to go alone, I'd like to know, in St. An

outside. Gaston felt it

go to the devil, you know. Even St. Angé's ideals d

back to Lola Laval. How the girl rose and ha

wants the best she can get out of life. She's had a vision, poor little girl, and she's making for that vision, believing it a reality. We all do that, old man, and it's up to you to give her as much of what she wan

He had risen to his feet and was glaring at his companion. There was an ugly loo

I'm going to do the square thing by her. Her book-learning is all right if she keeps it to herself, and don't let it get mixed up with her duties 'long of me. A

d hurled Jude along up to this point, but he was suddenly l

g his pipe. "But sit down, and loosen your collar. The room is

smile on Gaston's face, and bade the devil in him awake. The same devil tha

But I've been thinking, Jude, you don't want to take Joyce into your shack. Let's build her another up on the sunny slope beyond the Long Meadow on the Hillcrest side

ull eyes gleamed. Money! Money! To handle it, spend it and enjoy it without great bodily effort in earning it. This had ever been a consuming passion with Jude. A passion that had remained smouldering beca

the start, you know, and before I get my pay from the camp boss. It's almighty kind of you, Mr. G

was awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. "W

losed upon the

low, I wonder!" Could they know of his money? The amount, and manner of getting it?

oming evil possessed him. He felt as if, in an ungu

lities now as Jude was-perhaps more so; but there stood the pale, innocent girl between them. He recalled her hurt, quivering face when

mured taking the lamp and g

l from the drawer, and laid it conveniently at hand, then he turned to the chest with the mighty lo

together, and these the man placed beside the pistol. The photograph he too

. The heat in the little room became stifling, and the

with no shading or background, with only a filmy scarf outlining the form from the colourless paper, the compelling features started vividly upon the vision, as the individuality of the girl did upon the imagination. An irritation followed the first impression

fted head. The eyes, deep, dark, and mystical gave no clue to the inner woman; but the mouth, while it was tender in its curves, had a rigidity of purpose in its expression that fixed the att

nely years of St. Angé; past a certain black horror that had stood, and would always stand, as a thing that should

do this

d

n Gaston's life. Everything before led up to them

ston had been too simple and direct to note fine points or shadings. Perhaps neither of them had understood. Life had been so fair until the ter

g in his until he should speak. Would he speak again those two crude, fatal words? Would she

earer the answer than when he had come to the place, by mistake, a few years back, and decided to stay there s

d the rigid face torn with the emotions that were racking t

im? He was a fool. Why had he not taken what wa

d his memory by living love; why should not he take the poor substitute that the So

for Temptation to

aying the naked despair and yearning; and just then Temptatio

believe that a man's life, complete and prearranged, lies stretched before, and occasionally some, when the circumstances are propitious and the soul has a certain detachment that ignores the bodily claims, can leap over the now and here, and catch a glimpse

om the darkening room with its foul smell of oil: he knew who stood outside in the moonlighted, fragrant summer night, an

irm, deadening blankness! Whatever was to

y she had come. Her soul had revolted from her concession to Jude. In the bewitched hours of darkness, the primitive, savage instinct had driven the

and who the better-if he drew her wit

upon the wooden shut

irely, and he was struggling to free himself from an intangible enemy or friend; a thing that had, unknown

childish sob, half desire, half fear. The veins stood out on his foreh

d by a stifled groan from

ittle temptress, was going to meet the fore-ordained future that lay befo

eyond his power of recall o

ng and good morning. A morning cool and faintly tinted, a mo

hands guided it, and placed it again upon him. Once more he was the strong,

m courage to meet the day, Jude Lauzoon's soft-steppi

stayed awake and been on guard while the night passed? But the smile faded. How l

ore Joyce came-been camping out with no definite purpose, since his late talk in the shack-why, then it was simply a matte

en, flinging himself upon the pine-bough bed, dres