"And I'm going to keep him," he said. "I love the boy."
What Simon had to say struck deep into Pierre Gourdon's heart, for it recalled the day of years ago when he had made his great fight in the sea to save a strange woman and her little girl, and had succeeded in bringing only the child, Mona, ashore3. And Mona had grown to be a part of his soul. So when Simon had finished, Pierre nodded his head thoughtfully and said:
"Mona brought Peter to me today. He has the making of a man in him. And he has promised to whip[126] Aleck Curry4 if he troubles Mona again." He chuckled5 and shrugged6 his shoulders. "Aleck is almost twice as big as Peter," he added. "But the boy has courage. It may happen. And—we will make this a home for him, Simon."
"And if that round-headed young blackguard of an Aleck sets upon Peter again," said Simon slowly, "I'll make his father take it out of his hide or never sell him another foot of lumber7!"
The gentle smile did not leave Pierre's eyes. A forest man, and son of many generations of wilderness8 people, a warm thrill of superstition9 and an immeasurable faith in the God that had made his beautiful world lay deep in his soul. Simon guessed what was in his mind when he saw him looking at a green patch of flower-strewn slope where lay the graves of Mona's father and mother.
The smile faded slowly from Pierre's face, and a little of anxiety, of dread10 almost, replaced it.
"The years have been kind to us," he said, speaking more to himself than to Simon. "It has been a long time since Dominique Beauvais and I brought our wives through these forests for the first time, and now there are more than fifty of us here—all our own people and friends. There has been little of tragedy and much of happiness. The plot up there is empty—except for Mona's people. Sometimes—I am afraid."
"Peace and comfort have been with us," agreed the Scotchman. Behind them were the yellow piles of sawdust[127] and the droning of the big steel saw in Simon's little mill as it cut its way through the hearts of timber. Simon loved the mill as Pierre loved the cabins he had helped to build, for the mill had brought prosperity to the wilderness people. It had also made necessary the ugly black tug11 which lay down in Middle Finger Inlet. The creases12 grew deeper in Simon's hard face as his eyes rested on the tug. "I wish some other man than Izaak Curry was taking our lumber," he said. "Maybe I'd like him if it wasn't for his boy. If that ugly lad ever puts his hands on Peter again, or on Mona——" He hunched13 his gaunt shoulders with a suggestive grunt14.
Pierre was looking off toward the timbered line behind which Lake Superior was hidden, half a mile away. For a moment after Simon's threatening words he remained silent. His face was thoughtful.
"It is strange," he said, giving voice to what was in his mind. "Through children has come most of our happiness at Five Fingers, Simon—and all of our tragedy. It was seven years ago that the strange ship went to pieces out there and I saved Mona from the sea. She is one of us now, and if she should be taken away our hearts would break. And now comes Peter, whose mother is dead, and whose father is worse than dead—for Peter—because he is an outlaw15. It makes me think of a long time ago when a boy came into Ste. Anne de Beaupré, away down on the St. Lawrence, just as Peter came to Five Fingers three days ago.[128] His father and mother were dead of the plague back in the forest, and he was ragged16 and starved, and the first person he met was a little girl, just as Peter met Mona, and afterward17 he fought for her, and married her when he grew old enough, and—she is Josette, my wife. It is almost as if Peter was me. And I am wondering——"
He did not finish. But Simon nodded understandingly.
"Things happen like that," he said.
Out of the edge of the evergreen18 timber which ran down to the white sands of Middle Finger Inlet Mona was leading Peter. One of his eyes was entirely closed. His lips were swollen19 and his face was grimy and red with the marks of battle. He was a little dizzy. There was a ringing in his ears, and with his one good eye he could see the world but dimly. The green forests were a blur20. The sunlight was a mellow21 glow. Mona's face, flaming with pride and joy, was an ethereal vision of loveliness which he saw as if through a number of gossamer22 veils. But in spite of his wrecked23 appearance his heart was beating with a swift and glorious exultation24. He had kept his promise to Mona, to Simon McQuarrie and to Pierre Gourdon, for he had met and whipped Aleck Curry. The tug-master's son had begged for mercy, and the riotous25 thrill of it all was that Mona had looked upon that splendid battle and the ignominious26 defeat of the overgrown[129] bully27 upon whose head she had earnestly prayed calamity28 might fall.
Peter was fighting hard to maintain a calm and dignified29 mental balance as they came out of the forest. Mona's fingers clung to his hand. Her face was flushed and her eyes were shining like lovely stars. But it was the kiss he felt most of all—that warm and sweet and amazingly unexpected tribute she had placed on his lips in the moment of his triumph.
It was a new thing to Peter. Since his mother had died he had never experienced anything like it and he could only faintly remember his mother. Through the years since then his father had kissed him every night before he went to sleep. But Mona's kiss was different. It remained with him in a strange and embarrassingly persistent30 way.
"I knew you could do it," Mona was saying, a tremble of pleasure in her voice. "I just knew it, Peter! Does your eye hurt?"
"Not much."
"Can you see?"
"Pretty good."
She drew in a breath of deep and sincere appreciation31.
"I got there just in time to see you bite Aleck's ear," she said. "Oh, how he did howl!"
Peter's conscience smote32 him.
"It ain't—I mean, it isn't fair to bite another fellow's ear," he explained, "but he stuck it in my mouth and I couldn't help it."
[130]
"I wish you'd bit off his nose," said Mona. "If I were a boy and had hold of his ear with teeth like yours, I wouldn't let go."
A generous impulse filled Peter's breast. "I'll lick him again tomorrow if you want me to," he offered.
They went up the green slope from the inlet. Peter could hear better than he could see. He could hear the soft croaking33 of the gulls34 and the singing of the birds and the steely music of the saw in the mill. His bad eye was toward Mona, so that unless he gave his head a full turn he could not see her at all. A sweaty discomfort35 possessed36 him whenever he believed she was making a fresh survey of the disfigurements Aleck had fastened upon him. With his triumph rode the humiliating conviction that his face was out of joint37 and not pleasant to look at.
"It'll be better tomorrow," he said.
"What will?" she asked.
"My face. It must look sort of funny."
"Not half as funny as Aleck Curry's," she comforted him. "And if anyone dares to laugh at you—after what happened out there——"
Peter caught the flash in her dark eyes. In spite of his protest she pulled him through the open door of Jame Clamart's cabin. Adette was bending over the crib of young Telesphore. Her big blue eyes widened and she gave a little gasp38 when she saw Peter, his hand still held in Mona's.
And then, to his horror, she giggled39.
[131]
In an instant Mona was at her side.
"Adette Clamart, don't you dare laugh!" she cried. "If you had seen it! If you had seen him whip Aleck Curry——"
"But his eye!" exclaimed Adette chokingly. "I mean that eye, Mona—the one that's open! It looks so—so funny!"
"He's better-looking right now than Jame Clamart will ever be," retorted Mona with fierce dignity. "He hasn't got a snub nose, anyway—and that's what your baby is going to have when he grows up!"
"But his eye!" persisted Adette, the giggling40 choking her. "Why is it so round and glassy, Mona? It's just like the end of my new glass salt shaker! Oh, oh, oh——"
"Adette Clamart!"
Peter, stunned41 and speechless, watched Mona drag Adette into the kitchen. As if drawn42 by an irresistible43 magnet, his one eye followed them, and Adette—looking back—gave a final little screech44 of laughter before the door closed behind her.
Peter heard the tittering beyond that door, and Mona's protesting voice rising above it. He felt as if warm water had been poured down his back. He was clammy, and his heart had sunk down into his middle. He must be a terrible sight!
Then he saw young Telesphore looking at him over the edge of the crib. In one of his fat fists the baby clutched the knife which Peter had given him earlier[132] in the day. Peter went nearer and grinned at his young friend. The effort hurt him. Telesphore's mouth fell slowly ajar as he stared at Peter. He gave no sign of recognition. The jovial45 comradeship of a few hours ago was gone and his gaze was steady and perplexed46. And then, as if desirous of possessing another strange article of interest, he dropped his knife and reached for Peter's one eye.
Peter drew back. Adette was still laughing at him and Telesphore did not recognize him! He remembered a little mirror hanging on the wall and hurried to it. He was shocked. The thrill of triumph left him. His pride sank—and he sneaked48 through the open door as quickly as he could and trotted49 toward the big yellow piles of sawdust, hoping he might reach them before Mona discovered his flight. Screened by the piles, he came up behind Simon McQuarrie's cabin and almost bumped into a little man with a great head of shaggy gray hair, a round face with rosy50 cheeks, and eyes that were at first amazed and then twinkled merrily as they looked at Peter. He was a stranger. But swiftly and instinctively51 Peter liked him. Something in the way he rubbed his hands together and chuckled built up a confidence and comradeship between them immediately. Peter attempted a grin.
"I been in a fight," he acknowledged cheerfully, for there was an attitude and quality about this little man that demanded some kind of explanation. "I been in a fight with Aleck Curry."
[133]
"And he worsted you," guessed the merry stranger.
"No, sir. I beat him up. I made him howl, and he promised never to bother Mona or her pets again. Mona knows. She saw it."
The little man placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a gentle hand. Its touch comforted Peter.
"Come in and let me fix you up, Peter. That is your name, isn't it—Peter McRae?"
"Yes, sir."
They went into the cabin. The little man seemed at home in Simon's place, for he found the medicine cupboard immediately, and was soon busy poulticing and bandaging Peter's tortured face.
"Aleck is a troublesome boy," he said. "I hope you punished him well. But he is so much larger than you! Aren't you afraid of what may happen next time?"
Peter shook his head. "I know how to do it now. I run away from him until he's winded, then beat him up. I'm going to lick him again tomorrow if Mona wants me to."
"Good!" smiled the little man. His face grew rosier52 and a light was in his eyes that pleased Peter. "But I wouldn't try it on Sunday," he advised. "It's bad luck to fight on the Lord's Day. If you'll wait until Monday, I will take you out into the woods and show you a few tricks that may help you! And if it can be quietly arranged, Peter, I would like to see the next fight you have with Aleck Curry.
[134]
"You like fights?" asked Peter.
"In a good cause—yes."
Peter was thoughtful as his cheerful and comforting companion fastened a bandage over his closed eye.
"Sunday isn't such a bad day for a fight," he argued. "You could get Aleck Curry out in the woods somewhere, tell 'im you wanted to show him something, an' I could sneak47 up—an' we could have it right there. I ain't—I mean I'm not afraid of Sunday!"
"I'm not thinking so much of you as I am of myself," said the little man, laughing softly. "I mustn't let pleasure come before duty—on Sunday. You see, I have to preach tomorrow."
"You have to—what?"
"Preach. Down there in the little church. I'm Father Albanel, Peter."
For the second time in the last half-hour Peter's earth seemed slipping unevenly53 under his feet. Father Albanel! Mona had told him about the wonderful forest missioner who had no church and no set religion, but who wandered through hundreds of miles of wilderness, preaching the faith of God wherever he went, and who came every few weeks to Five Fingers. "All the forest people love him, and he is so good I think God must love him most of all," she had said. "He buried my father and mother." And this was Father Albanel—this little man with the jolly face and twinkling eyes, and he—Peter McRae—had invited him to witness a fight on Sunday! He squirmed[135] uneasily. He could feel the hot blood rising up through his neck into his face. He wet his swollen lips and tried to save himself.
"I didn't know you was the preacher," he said. "I guess mebbe it isn't right to fight on Sunday."
Father Albanel's hands pressed gently upon the boy's thin shoulders. "It's right to fight any time, Peter—when you have a just fight to make. God loves a peacemaker but He also has no use for a coward—and no one but a coward would refuse to fight for Mona. Will you come and hear me tomorrow?"
"I'll come," promised Peter.
When Father Albanel had gone he climbed up the ladder to his bed of blankets close under the sweet-smelling cedar54 roof and undressed. The sun was low in the west and the afternoon song of the mill had ceased. The robins55 were chirping56 their evening notes. It was supper time, and Simon McQuarrie was late. Half an hour passed before Peter heard him enter the cabin. He came directly to the ladder and climbed up. In the twilight57 he bent58 over Peter.
"Feeling sick, Peter?"
"No, sir."
Simon knelt upon the edge of the blankets.
"I've heard about the fight," he said, in a voice which trembled a little in its unaccustomed softness. "Mona told me, and then Adette, and after that I went down to the tug to have it out with Izaak Curry—and his boy. But—Peter—lad, when I saw Aleck I had[136] no heart to speak harshly to his father. I'm proud of you!"
In the silence he bent his face nearer to Peter's.
"Want something to eat, lad?"
"I can't eat," explained Peter huskily. "My mouth is swollen shut."
It was then Simon McQuarrie's hard lips touched Peter's cheek—the first kiss he had given in many years.
"Good night," he whispered. "You're Donald McRae's son—every inch of you!" And Peter listened to his heavy feet as he slowly descended59 the ladder.
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1
gamut
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| n.全音阶，(一领域的)全部知识 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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11
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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12
creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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13
hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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14
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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15
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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16
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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17
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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18
evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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19
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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21
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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22
gossamer
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| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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26
ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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27
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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28
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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29
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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30
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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32
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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33
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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34
gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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38
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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39
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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41
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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42
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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44
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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45
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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46
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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47
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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48
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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49
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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50
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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51
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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52
rosier
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| Rosieresite | |
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53
unevenly
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| adv.不均匀的 | |
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54
cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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55
robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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56
chirping
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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57
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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58
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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59
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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