The Wilderness Trail Part 30

McTavish lost color.

"You can't mean that, Seguis," he said, earnestly.

"I do mean it," was the inflexible reply.

Donald reflected for a moment. The situation was getting out of his hands. He must dominate matters at all costs. The plans that he had set in motion must not stop until they had gone on to their inevitable, crus.h.i.+ng conclusion. It was evident that the half-breed was equally determined. The battle now lay between them.

"I refuse to go," he said, resolutely.

"Is that final?" asked Seguis.

"Absolutely!"

"Well, then, to-morrow, you start up the lake to the other camp."

Seguis rose from his seat, indifferently. "I guess we've nothing left to discuss," he added, and began to walk back toward the camp.

"Seguis, wait!" Donald's face was ghastly with the resolve that had come to him, but he spoke with an even, commanding voice, which arrested the other. "You must not do that. It would be murder."

"How so? You have your opportunity to avoid it."

"Would you murder your own flesh and blood? Tell me, Seguis, would you do that?" The voice was still even, but the eyes that searched those of the half-breed were bright with an intense fire.

"What do you mean by 'my own flesh and blood?' Are you going crazy, McTavish?" demanded the half-breed, feeling, he knew not why, a mysterious fear move within him.

"Crazy! No, indeed, my good Seguis--only too far from it, I sometimes think!" was the spoken reply. But over and over to himself, McTavish was saying: "He doesn't know it! He doesn't know it!"

"Well, what do you mean then?"

"Just what I say; that, if you send me back to the other camp, you'll be murdering your own flesh and blood. Good G.o.d! man, don't you know who your father was?

"No--she never told me." Seguis, in a dazed manner, indicated the camp where Maria still prowled about. "Wh--who was he?"

"The--the same as mine! The man who sits in the commissioner's chair to-day--"

"Not McTavish, _the_ McTavish?" cried the half-breed, trembling from head to foot. "No, no, it can't be! Don't say so!"

"But it is, and that's all there is about it," growled Donald, grimly. "Why? What difference does it make to you?"

"Then you--you, Captain McTavish, you are my half-brother?"

"Yes."

"And I was about to kill you, and I have already tried once, and my mother has tried, and Tom--oh, why haven't I known this before?

Why didn't she tell me?"

For the moment, Seguis seemed utterly lost in the mazes of his own thoughts and memories. He stood with folded arms, his head hanging upon his breast, while his lips moved in self-communion. Then came the reaction, and disbelief, and it was necessary to go over the ground with him from beginning to end. Concisely and briefly, Donald outlined the whole march of events that had led up to this inevitable revelation.

Then, as never before, the Hudson Bay man realized how far-reaching and potent are the little things of life, and, after all, how far from free agents we are sometimes. Forty-five years before, perhaps, his father, alone in the wilds, had yielded to the warm, dusky beauty of an Indian princess, and now, when, by all the laws of chance and custom, that germ of evil should have expired, it sprang into life and propagated a harvest of intrigue and death. And he, the son, by no fault of his own, was unwillingly but unavoidably involved in the penalty.

To Seguis the meaning of it all came as a blinding flash. In an instant, he a.n.a.lyzed his heritage of ambition and knew the desires of his mother for what they were. He looked back now upon his life of advancement with discerning eyes, and, suddenly, ahead of him, not far now since this revelation, he saw a s.h.i.+ning goal.

"Then, I am the rightful heir of the commissioner?" he asked, in an awed voice.

"Yes," Donald answered, bitterly. "You are everything and, by law, can have everything; I am no one, and, by the same law, can have nothing but what affection or pity dictates. But it is not because of this that I spoke to you," he went on, proudly. "It was to save my life at least for a little while, as I have work to do."

"And so have I--so have I!" muttered Seguis, abstractedly, his eyes burning bright. "It's all right, McTavish; nothing will come of this. You can either stay, or I'll fit you out for the trail if you want to take it," he added. But it was easy to see that his mind was not in his words.

Donald uttered no thanks. He had gained his end; he would not be sent back to the Hudson Bay camp. He looked at his brooding companion, furtively.

"Let him enjoy his hour of triumph and dreaming," he thought, good-humoredly; "it won't last long." And he started back through the woods to the camp.

Seguis, apparently wrapped in pleasurable plans, followed slowly at a distance.

CHAPTER XXIV

NINE POINTS OF THE LAW

For two days, affairs in the camp remained unchanged. Donald, un.o.btrusively watching events, saw Charley Seguis often in conference with old Maria. The faces of both were lighted with a certain joy, but, at times, that of the half-breed seemed to a.s.sume a brooding somberness. McTavish, for his part, was merely waiting. After that stormy day by the blasted pine, and the glimpse he had caught of the coveted certificate, a change had been wrought in him. He temporarily relinquished the idea of obtaining the paper: that had come later. Other things of more vital importance demanded his attention, things that boded no good for these men in whose midst he lived, unmolested, an alien. He had seen opportunity to serve the Company, that inflexible master which had almost crushed his life out more than once, and the inherent loyalty in him had responded. Where before he had been willing to give his life in defense of his own ideals, now he was setting personal desire aside that the Company might be served.

In the free-traders' camp, the situation was once more becoming acute. Supplies were again low, although the week allowed for the arrival of the French pack-trains was not up. The men were loath to leave the camp exposed, to search for the expected arrivals, and they hung on, trusting that the traders would come through.

The third morning after the talk with Seguis, the Hudson Bay man opened another conversation between them.

"I've changed my mind, Seguis, about staying here any longer," he said. "The other day, you promised to fit me out for the trail, if I wanted to go, and I've decided to take advantage of that offer, if it's still open."

"It is still open," replied the other. "What has changed your mind so suddenly?"

"Oh, everything!" was the despondent answer. "I can't see much ahead of me, and I might as well hit the trail. I think I'll head for Labrador. I can make it just about when spring breaks, and I'll start over again."

A light of exultation leaped into Seguis's eyes, but he did not betray his emotion either by voice or gesture.

"As you like," he said. "When do you wish to leave? I can't give you much food."

"To-day, if I can. I'm sick of this whole business. I'll take what you'll give me. And I'll say this, that you've treated me white--under the circ.u.mstances."

"Please, don't say anything about it," rejoined Seguis, quickly.

An hour later, Donald stood ready for his departure, the mask of humility and depression hiding the fear and worry in his heart. He must have one stroke of luck, and it had not come! Well, it wasn't absolutely necessary, but it would help.

Suddenly, out of the woods burst a man on snow-shoes, running at top speed toward the camp. Donald's heart leaped within him. Had he guessed right, after all? Had things happened as he hoped? The man glissaded down the hill, and, without any attempt to check his progress, began to yell at the top of his voice:

"Queek! Ze help! We must have him. I am of ze party _Francais_.

We haf been attack' an' captur' by ze Hudson Bay men. Only I haf escap'. By gar! Come! Eet is only five mile, maybe four. I will lead you. Come! Come!"

Instantly, there was uproar in the camp. Everyone shouted questions and answers at once. A dozen men gave orders. Yet, in ten minutes, Seguis's whole force stood in its snowshoes, with cartridge-belts strapped on, and rifles ready. Grim determination and anger were written on every face.