His pride and
vainglory were broken. He was a haggard, shaken figure. His
self-righteousness was levelled in the dust.
With sudden impulse, Cassy stole over to him, and took his hand and held
it tight.
"Don't! Don't feel so bad!" she said. "He was weak and wild then. But he
was all right afterwards. He was happy with me."
"I've owed Cassy this for a good many years, dad," said Black Andy, "and
it had to be paid. She's got better stuff in her than any Baragar."
.........................
An hour later, the old man said to Cassy at the door of her room: "You
got to stay here and git well. It's yours, the same as the rest of
us--what's here."
Then he went downstairs and sat with Aunt Kate by the fire.
"I guess she's a good woman," he said at last. "I didn't use her right."
"You've been lucky with your women-folk," Aunt Kate answered quietly.
"Yes, I've been lucky," he answered. "I dunno if I deserve it. Mebbe not.
Do you think she'll git well?"
"It's a healing air out here," Aunt Kate answered, and listened to the
wood of the house snapping in the sharp frost.
MARCILE
That the day was beautiful, that the harvest of the West had been a great
one, that the salmon-fishing had been larger than ever before, that gold
had been found in the Yukon, made no difference to Jacques Grassette, for
he was in the condemned cell of Bindon Jail, living out those days which
pass so swiftly between the verdict of the jury and the last slow walk
with the Sheriff.
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