Mrs. Becker had
laughed with Bucky Nome, her cheeks had grown a little flushed, her eyes
had shone radiantly--but were those things a sin? Had those same eyes
not looked up into his own, filled with a sweetness that thrilled him,
when he bent over her beside the fire out on the Churchill trail? Was
there not that same lovely flush in her face when his lips had almost
touched her hair? And had not the colonel's sudden return brought a
flush into both their faces? He smiled to himself, and for a moment he
thrilled ecstatically. The reaction came like a shock. In an instant
other scenes--other faces--flashed upon him, and again he saw the
luring, beautiful face of Eileen Hawkins, who smiled on men as Mrs.
Becker had smiled on Bucky Nome and on him.
He closed his eyes and tried to force himself into sleep, but failed. At
last he rose silently from his bunk, filled his pipe, and sat down in
the darkness beside the stove. The storm had increased to a gale,
wailing and moaning over the cabin outside, and the sound carried him
back to the last night in the cabin far to the south, when he had
destroyed the hyacinth-scented letter. The thought of the letter moved
him restlessly. He listened to Pierrot's breathing, and knew that the
half-breed was asleep. Then he rose to his feet and laid his pipe on the
table. A curious feeling of guilt came over him as he moved toward the
box in which Jacques had placed the silken scarf.
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