Part 15 (1/2)

'We did. After that, we faithfully went out hunting and trapping as long as daylight lasted, and then, after supper, we built up huge fires of pine logs, and went to work on the next house. It was a strange picture; the forest deep in snow, black with night, the red glow of the great fires, and our moving figures working on as complacently as though daylight, balmy air, and the best of tools were ours.

'The Lady liked our industry. She said our new houses showed that the ”new cleanliness of our inner man required a cleaner tabernacle for the outer.” I don't know about our inner man, but our outer was certainly much cleaner.

'One day the Flying Dutchman made one of his unfortunate remarks. ”De boys t'inks you'll like dem better in nize houses,” he announced when, happening to pa.s.s the fortress, he found the Lady standing at her gate gazing at the work of the preceding night. Several of the men were near enough to hear him, but too far off to kick him into silence as usual; but they glared at him instead. The Lady looked at the speaker with her dreamy, far-off eyes.

'”De boys t'inks you like dem,” began the Dutchman again, thinking she did not comprehend; but at that instant he caught the combined glare of the six eyes, and stopped abruptly, not all knowing what was wrong, but sure there was something.

'”Like them,” repeated the Lady, dreamily; ”yea I do like them. Nay, more, I love them. Their souls are as dear to me as the souls of brothers.”

'Say, Frenchy, have you got a sister?' said Nightingale Jack, confidentially, that evening.

'Mais oui,' said Frenchy.

'You think all creation of her, I suppose?'

'We fight like four cats and one dog; _she_ is the cats,' said the Frenchman concisely.

'You don't say so!' replied Jack. 'Now, I never had a sister,--but I thought perhaps--' He paused, and the sentence remained unfinished.

'The Nightingale and I were housemates. We sat late over our fire not long after that; I gave a gigantic yawn. 'This lifting logs half the night is enough to kill one,' I said, getting out my jug. Sing something, Jack. It's a long time since I've heard anything but hymns.'

'Jack always went off as easily as a music-box: you only had to wind him up; the jug was the key. I soon had him in full blast. He was giving out

'The minute gun at sea,--the minute gun at sea,'

with all the pathos of his tenor voice, when the door burst open and the whole population rushed in upon us.

'What do you mean by shouting thes way, in the middle of the night?'

'Shut up your howling, Jack.'

'How do you suppose any one can sleep?'

'It's a disgrace to the camp!'

'Now then, gentlemen,' I replied, for my blood was up (whiskey, perhaps), 'is this my house, or isn't it? If I want music, I'll have it.

Time was when you were not so particular.'

'It was the first word of rebellion. The men looked at each other, then at me.

'I'll go and ask her if she objects,' I continued, boldly.

'No, no. You shall not.'

'Let him go,' said the Doctor, who stood smoking his pipe on the outskirts of the crowd. 'It is just as well to have that point settled now. The Minute Gun at Sea is a good moral song in its way,--a sort of marine missionary affair.'

'So I started, the others followed; we all knew that the Lady watched late; we often saw the glimmer of her lamp far on toward morning. It was burning now. The gate was fastened, I knocked; no answer. I knocked again, and yet a third time; still silence. The men stood off at a little distance and waited. 'She shall answer,' I said angrily, and going around to the side where the stockade came nearer to the wall of the lodge, I knocked loudly on the close-set saplings. For answer I thought I heard a low moan; I listened, it came again. My anger vanished, and with a mighty bound I swung myself up to the top of the stockade, sprung down inside, ran around, and tried the door. It was fastened; I burst it open and entered. There, by the light of the hanging lamp, I saw the Lady on the floor, apparently dead. I raised her in my arms; her heart was beating faintly, but she was unconscious. I had seen many fainting fits; this was something different; the limbs were rigid. I laid her on the low couch, loosened her dress, bathed her head and face in cold water, and wrenched up one of the warm hearth-stones to apply to her feet. I did not hesitate; I saw that it was a dangerous case, something like a trance or an 'ectasis.' Somebody must attend to her, and there were only men to choose from. Then why not I?

'I heard the others talking outside; they could not understand the delay; but I never heeded, and kept on my work. To tell the truth, I had studied medicine, and felt a genuine enthusiasm over a rare case. Once my patient opened her eyes and looked at me, then she lapsed away again into unconsciousness in spite of all my efforts. At last the men outside came in, angry and suspicious; they had broken down the gate.

There we all stood, the whole forty of us, around the deathlike form of our Lady.