As Carrigan stripped off his shirt, he knew that at least in one way he had met more than his match in St. Pierre Boulain. In the splendid service of which he was a part he had known many men of iron and steel, men whose nerve and coolness not even death could very greatly disturb. Yet St. Pierre, he conceded, was their master—and his own. For a flash he had transformed the chief of the Boulains into a volcano which had threatened to break in savage1 fury, yet neither the crash nor destruction had come. And now St. Pierre was smiling again, as Carrigan faced him, stripped to the waist. He betrayed no sign of the tempest of passion that had swept him a few minutes before. His cool, steely eyes had in them a look that was positively2 friendly, as Concombre Bateese marked in the hard sand the line of the circle within which no man might come. And as he did this and St. Pierre's people crowded close about it, St. Pierre himself spoke3 in a low voice to David.
"M'sieu, it seems a shame that we should fight. I like you. I have always loved a man who would fight to protect a woman, and I shall be careful not to hurt you more than is necessary to make you see reason—and to win the wagers4. So you need not be afraid of my killing6 you, as Bateese might have done. And I promise not to destroy your beauty, for the sake of—the lady in the bateau. My Carmin, if she knew you spied through her window last night, would say kill you with as little loss of time as possible, for as regards you her sweet disposition7 was spoiled when you hung her brother, m'sieu. Yet to me she is an angel!"
Contempt for the man who spoke of his wife and the infamous8 Carmin Fanchet in the same breath drew a sneer9 to Carrigan's lips. He nodded toward the waiting circle of men.
"They are ready for the show, St. Pierre. You talk big. Now let us see if you can fight."
For another moment St. Pierre hesitated. "I am so sorry, m'sieu—
"Are you ready, St. Pierre?"
"It is not fair, and she will never forgive me. You are no match for me. I am half again as heavy."
"And as big a coward as you are a scoundrel, St. Pierre."
"It is like a man fighting a boy."
"Yet it is less dishonorable than betraying the woman who is your wife for another who should have been hanged along with her brother, St. Pierre."
Boulain's face darkened. He drew back half a dozen steps and cried out a word to Bateese. Instantly the circle of waiting men grew tense as the half-breed jerked the big handkerchief from his head and held it out at arm's length. Yet, with that eagerness for the fight there was something else which Carrigan was swift to sense. The attitude of the watchers was not one of uncertainty10 or of very great expectation, in spite of the staring faces and the muscular tightening11 of the line. He knew what was passing in their minds and in the low whispers from lip to lip. They were pitying him. Now that he stood stripped, with only a few paces between him and the giant figure of St. Pierre, the unfairness of the fight struck home even to Concombre Bateese. Only Carrigan himself knew how like tempered steel the sinews of his body were built. But to the eye, in size alone, he stood like a boy before St. Pierre. And St. Pierre's people, their voices stilled by the deadly inequality of it, were waiting for a slaughter12 and not a fight.
A smile came to Carrigan's lips as he saw Bateese hesitating to drop the handkerchief, and with the swiftness of the trained fighter he made his first plan for the battle before the cloth fell from the half-breed's fingers, As the handkerchief fluttered to the ground, he faced St. Pierre, the smile gone.
"Never smile when you fight," the greatest of all masters of the ring had told him. "Never show anger, Don't betray any emotion at all if you can help it."
Carrigan wondered what the old ring-master would say could he see him now, backing away slowly from St. Pierre as the giant advanced upon him, for he knew his face was betraying to St. Pierre and his people the deadliest of all sins—anxiety and indecision. Very closely, yet with eyes that seemed to shift uneasily, he watched the effect of his trick on Boulain. Twice the huge riverman followed him about the ring of sand, and the steely glitter in his eyes changed to laughter, and the tense faces of the men about them relaxed. A subdued13 ripple14 of merriment rose where there had been silence. A third time David maneuvered15 his retreat, and his eyes shot furtively16 to Concombre Bateese and the men at his back. They were grinning. The half-breed's mouth was wide open, and his grotesque17 body hung limp and astonished. This was not a fight! It was a comedy—like a rooster following a sparrow around a barnyard! And then a still funnier thing happened, for David began to trot18 in a circle around St. Pierre, dodging19 and feinting, and keeping always at a safe distance. A howl of laughter came from Bateese and broke in a roar from the men. St. Pierre stopped in his tracks, a grin on his face, his big arms and shoulders limp and unprepared as Carrigan dodged20 in close and out again. And then—
A howl broke in the middle of the half-breed's throat. Where there had been laughter, there came a sudden shutting off of sound, a great gasp21, as if made by choking men. Swifter than anything they had ever seen in human action Carrigan had leaped in. They saw him strike. They heard the blow. They saw St. Pierre's great head rock back, as if struck from his shoulders by a club, and they saw and heard another blow, and a third—like so many flashes of lightning—and St. Pierre went down as if shot. The man they had laughed at was no longer like a hopping22 sparrow. He was waiting, bent23 a little forward, every muscle in his body ready for action. They watched for him to leap upon his fallen enemy, kicking and gouging24 and choking in the riverman way. But David waited, and St. Pierre staggered to his feet. His mouth was bleeding and choked with sand, and a great lump was beginning to swell25 over his eye. A deadly fire blazed in his face, as he rushed like a mad bull at the insignificant26 opponent who had tricked and humiliated27 him. This time Carrigan did not retreat, but held his ground, and a yell of joy went up from Bateese as the mighty28 bulk of the giant descended29 upon his victim. It was an avalanche30 of brute-force, crushing in its destructiveness, and Carrigan seemed to reach for it as it came upon him. Then his head went down, swifter than a diving grebe, and as St. Pierre's arm swung like an oaken beam over his shoulder, his own shot in straight for the pit of the other's stomach. It was a bull's-eye blow with the force of a pile-driver behind it, and the groan31 that forced its way out of St. Pierre's vitals was heard by every ear in the cordon32 of watchers. His weight stopped, his arms opened, and through that opening Carrigan's fist went a second time to the other's jaw33, and a second time the great St. Pierre Boulain sprawled34 out upon the sand. And there he lay, and made no effort to rise.
Concombre Bateese, with his great mouth agape, stood for an instant as if the blow had stunned35 him in place of his master. Then, suddenly he came to life, and leaped to David's side.
"Diable! Tonnerre! You have not fight Concombre Bateese yet!" he howled. "Non, you have cheat me, you have lie, you have run lak cat from Concombre Bateese, ze stronges' man on all T'ree River! You are wan36' gran' coward, wan poltroon37, an' you 'fraid to fight ME, who ees greates' fightin' man in all dees countree! Sapristi! Why you no hit Concombre Bateese, m'sieu? Why you no hit ze greates' fightin' man w'at ees—"
David did not hear the rest. The opportunity was too tempting38. He swung, and with a huge grunt39 the gorilla-like body of Concombre Bateese rolled over that of the chief of the Boulains. This time Carrigan did not wait, but followed up so closely that the half-breed had scarcely gathered the crook40 out of his knees when another blow on the jaw sent him into the sand again. Three times he tried the experiment of regaining41 his feet, and three times he was knocked down. After the last blow he raised himself groggily42 to a sitting posture43, and there he remained, blinking like a stunned pig, with his big hands clutching in the sand. He stared up unseeingly at Carrigan, who waited over him, and then stupidly at the transfixed cordon of men, whose eyes were bulging44 and who were holding their breath in the astonishment45 of this miracle which had descended upon them. They heard Bateese muttering something incoherent as his head wobbled, and St. Pierre himself seemed to hear it, for he stirred and raised himself slowly, until he also was sitting in the sand, staring at Bateese.
Carrigan picked up his shirt, and the riverman who had brought him from the bateau returned with him to the canoe. There was no demonstration46 behind them. To David himself the whole thing had been an amazing surprise, and he was not at all reluctant to leave as quickly as his dignity would permit, before some other of St. Pierre's people offered to put a further test upon his prowess. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to thank God at the top of his voice for the absurd run of luck that had made his triumph not only easy but utterly47 complete. He had expected to win, but he had also expected a terrific fight before the last blow was struck. And there had been no fight! He was returning to the bateau without a scratch, his hair scarcely ruffled48, and he had defeated not only St. Pierre, but the giant half-breed as well! It was inconceivable—and yet it had happened; a veritable burlesque49, an opera-bouffe affair that might turn quickly into a tragedy if either St. Pierre or Concombre Bateese guessed the truth of it. For in that event he might have to face them again, with the god of luck playing fairly, and he was honest enough with himself to confess that the idea no longer held either thrill or desire for him. Now that he had seen both St. Pierre and Bateese stripped for battle, he had no further appetite for fistic discussion with them. After all, there was a merit in caution, and he had several lucky stars to bless just at the present moment!
Inwardly he was a bit suspicious of the ultimate ending of the affair. St. Pierre had almost no cause for complaint, for it was his own carelessness, coupled with his opponent's luck, that had been his undoing—and luck and carelessness are legitimate50 factors of every fight, Carrigan told himself. But with Bateese it was different. He had held up his big jaw, uncovered and tempting, entreating51 some one to hit him, and Carrigan had yielded to that temptation. The blow would have stunned an ox. Three others like it had left the huge half-breed sitting weak-mindedly in the sand, and no one of those three blows were exactly according to the rules of the game. They had been mightily52 efficacious, but the half-breed might demand a rehearing when he came fully53 into his senses.
Not until they were half-way to the bateau did Carrigan dare to glance back over his shoulder at the man who was paddling, to see what effect the fistic travesty54 had left on him. He was a big-mouthed, clear-eyed, powerfully-muscled fellow, and he was grinning from ear to ear.
"Well, what did you think of it, comrade?"
"Mon Dieu! Have you heard of wan garcon named Joe Clamart, m'sieu? Non? Well, I am Joe Clamart what was once great fightin' man. Bateese hav' whip' me five times, m'sieu—so I say it was wan gr-r-r-a-n' fight! Many years ago I have seen ze same t'ing in Montreal—ze boxeur de profession. Oui, an' Rene Babin pays me fifteen prime martin against which I put up three scrubby red fox that you would win. They were bad, or I would not have gambled, m'sieu. It ees fonny!"
"Yes, it is funny," agreed David. "I think it is a bit too funny. It is a pity they did not stand up on their legs a little longer!" Suddenly an inspiration hit him. "Joe, what do you say—shall you and I return and put up a REAL fight for them?"
Like a sprung trap Joe Clamart's grinning mouth dosed. "Non, non, non," he grunted57. "Dere has been plenty fight, an' Joe Clamart mus' save hees face tor Antoinette Roland, who hate ze sign of fight lak she hate ze devil, m'sieu! Non, non!"
His paddle dug deeper into the water, and David's heart felt lighter58. If Joe was an average barometer59, and he was a husky and fearless-looking chap, it was probable that neither St. Pierre nor Bateese would demand another chance at him, and St. Pierre would pay his wager5.
He could see no one aboard the bateau when he climbed from the canoe. Looking back, he saw that two other canoes had started from the opposite shore. Then he went to his cabin door, opened it, and entered, Scarcely had the door closed behind him when he stopped, staring toward the window that opened on the river.
Standing60 full in the morning glow of it was Marie-Anne Boulain. She was facing him. Her cheeks were flushed. Her red lips were parted. Her eyes were aglow61 with a fire which she made no effort to hide from him. In her hand she still held the binoculars62 he had left on the cabin table. He guessed the truth. Through the glasses she had watched the whole miserable63 fiasco.
He felt creeping over him a sickening shame, and his eyes fell slowly from her to the table. What he saw there caught his breath in the middle. It was the entire surgical64 outfit65 of Nepapinas, the old Indian doctor. And there were basins of water, and white strips of linen66 ready for use, and a pile of medicated cotton, and all sorts of odds67 and ends that one might apply to ease the agonies of a dying man, And beyond the table, huddled68 in so small a heap that he was almost hidden by it, was Nepapinas himself, disappointment writ69 in his mummy-like face as his beady eyes rested on David.
The evidence could not be mistaken. They had expected him to come back more nearly dead than alive, and St. Pierre's wife had prepared for the thing she had thought inevitable70. Even his bed was nicely turned down, its fresh white sheets inviting71 an occupant!
And David, looking at St. Pierre's wife again, felt his heart beating hard in his breast at the look which was in her eyes. It was not the scintillation of laughter, and the flame in her cheeks was not embarrassment72. She was not amused. The ludicrousness of her mislaid plans had not struck her as they had struck him. She had placed the binoculars on the table, and slowly she came to him. Her hands reached out, and her fingers rested like the touch of velvet73 on his arms.
"It was splendid!" she said softly, "It was splendid!"
She was very near, her breast almost touching74 him, her hands creeping up until the tips of her fingers rested on his shoulders, her scarlet75 mouth so close he could feel the soft breath of it in his face.
"It was splendid!" she whispered again.
And then, suddenly, she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. So swiftly was it done that she was gone before he sensed that wild touch of her lips against his own. Like a swallow she was at the door, and the door opened and closed behind her, and for a moment he heard the quick running of her feet. Then he looked at the old Indian, and the Indian, too, was staring at the door through which St. Pierre's wife had flown.
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1
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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4
wagers
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| n.赌注，用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的第三人称单数 )；保证，担保 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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10
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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12
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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13
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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14
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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15
maneuvered
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| v.移动，用策略( maneuver的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵 | |
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16
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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18
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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19
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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20
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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21
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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23
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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24
gouging
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| n.刨削[槽]v.凿( gouge的现在分词 )；乱要价；（在…中）抠出…；挖出… | |
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25
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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31
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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33
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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34
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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35
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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36
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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37
poltroon
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| n.胆怯者；懦夫 | |
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38
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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39
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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40
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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41
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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42
groggily
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| adv.酒醉地；东倒西歪地 | |
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43
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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44
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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45
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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46
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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47
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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48
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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49
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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50
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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51
entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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52
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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53
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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54
travesty
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| n.歪曲，嘲弄，滑稽化 | |
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55
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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56
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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57
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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58
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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59
barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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60
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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61
aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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62
binoculars
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| n.双筒望远镜 | |
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63
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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64
surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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65
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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66
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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67
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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68
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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69
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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70
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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71
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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72
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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73
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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74
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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75
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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