The night was all light and
frost and silence.
She had only heard, in her own brain, the iteration of Ba'tiste's
calling. Would he reach Askatoon in time, she wondered, as she shut the
door? Why had she not gone with him and attempted the shorter way the
quick way, he had called it? All at once the truth came back upon her,
stirring her now. It would do no good for Ba'tiste to arrive in time. He
might plead to them all and tell the truth about the reprieve, but it
would not avail--Rube Haman would hang. That did not matter--even though
he was innocent; but Ba'tiste's brother would be so long in
purgatory. And even that would not matter; but she would hurt
Ba'tiste--Ba'tiste--Ba'tiste. And Ba'tiste he would know that
she--and he had called her "beautibul," that she had--
With a cry she suddenly clothed herself for travel. She put some food and
drink in a leather bag and slung them over her shoulder. Then she dropped
on a knee and wrote a note to her father, tears falling from her eyes.
She heaped wood on the fire and moved towards the door. All at once she
turned to the crucifix on the wall which had belonged to her mother, and,
though she had followed her father's Protestant religion, she kissed the
feet of the sacred figure.
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