It came to me at last that the wish to hide pulled the steps into the
timber, and that the fear and solitude of the great woods speedily
drove them out again. Then I determined to pay no attention to these
detours, but push along the beach. And doing this, I speedily came
upon the red blanket flung down in the shelter of a rock, and its owner
resting upon it.
When I saw that all was well, I became suddenly exhausted, and went
forward slowly. I reached the red blanket, and looked down. Yes, all
was well. A hunting knife lay in an open bundle. I stooped and seized
it, and hurled it far into the water, and then I asked, rather huskily,
a question that had not been in my mind at all:--
"What is your name?"
"Mary Starling." The woman had risen, and stood with her hands pressed
tight against her throat; the look she gave me was the saddest I had
ever seen. "Monsieur, you wrong me. The knife that you threw away was
for my protection,--for my food."
I stood over her. "You swear this?" I said, breathing hard.
She held her head high. "Monsieur, I am a coward in many ways, but not
in this. Life is bitter, but I will live it as long as the Powers
please. I will take what comes.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127