The Country Beyond Part 28

"Quite frequently he has gone like that," Nada explained. "He loves the forests at night--in the light of the moon."

"But last night there was no moon," said Roger.

"Yes--"

"And when Father John left the cabin the sky was clouded, and it was very dark."

"You heard him go?"

"Yes, and saw him. There was a worried look in his face when he wrote that note in the candle-glow."

"Roger, what do you mean?"

McKay went behind her chair, and tilted up her face, and kissed her s.h.i.+ning hair and questioning eyes.

"It means, precious little wife, that Father John is hurrying to the post to get news of Breault if he can. It means that deep in his heart he wants us to follow Yellow Bird's advice to the end. For he is sure that he knows what Yellow Bird meant by 'The Country Beyond.' It is the great big world outside the forests, a world so big that if need be we can put ourselves ten thousand miles away from the trails of the mounted police. That is the thought which is urging him to the post to look for Breault."

Her arms crept up to his neck, and in a little voice trembling with eagerness she said,

"Roger, my bundle is ready. I prepared it last night--and it is under the bed."

He held her more closely.

"And you are willing to go with me--anywhere?"

"Yes, anywhere."

"To the end of the earth?"

Her crumpled head nodded against his breast.

"And leave Father John?"

"Yes, for you. But I think--sometime--he will come to us."

Her fingers touched his cheek.

"And there must be forests, big, beautiful forests, in some other part of the world, Roger."

"Or a desert, where they would never think of looking for us," he laughed happily.

"I'd love the desert, Roger."

"Or an uninhabited island?"

Against him her head nodded again.

"I'd love life anywhere--_with you_."

"Then--we'll go," he said, trying to speak very calmly in spite of the joy that was consuming him like a fire. And then he went on, steadying his voice until it was almost cold. "But it means giving up everything you've dreamed of, Nada--these forests you love, Father John, Yellow Bird, Sun Cloud--"

"I have only one dream," she interrupted him softly.

"And five years will pa.s.s very quickly," he continued. "Possibly it will not be as bad as that, and afterward all this land we love will be free to us forever. Gladly will I remain and take my punishment if in the end it will make us happier, Nada."

"I have only one dream," she repeated, caressing his cheek with her hand, "and that is you, Roger. Where-ever you take me I shall be the happiest woman in the world."

"_Woman_," he laughed, scarcely breathing the word aloud.

"Yes, I am a woman--now"

"And yet forever and ever the little girl of Cragg's Ridge," he cried with sudden pa.s.sion, crus.h.i.+ng her close to him. "I'd lose my life sooner than I would lose her, Nada--the little girl with flying hair and strawberry stain on her nose, and who believed so faithfully in the Man in the Moon. Always I shall wors.h.i.+p her as the little G.o.ddess who came down to me from somewhere in heaven!"

Yet all through that day, as they waited for Father John's return, he saw more and more of the wonder of woman that had come to crown the glory of Nada's wifehood, and his heart trembled with joy at the miracle of it. There was something vastly sweet in the change of her.

She was no longer the utterly dependent little thing, possibly caring for him because he was big and strong and able to protect her; she was a woman, and loved him as a woman, and not because of fear or helplessness. And then came the thrilling mystery of another thing. He found himself, in turn, beginning to depend upon her, and in their planning her calm decision and quiet reasoning strengthened him with new confidence and made his heart sing with gladness. With his eyes on the smooth and velvety coils of hair which she had twisted woman-like on her head, he said,

"With your hair like that you are my Margaret of Anjou, and the other way--with it down you are my little Nada of Cragg's Ridge. And I--I don't quite understand why G.o.d should be so good to me."

And this day Peter was trying in his dumb way to a.n.a.lyze the change.

The touch of Nada's hand thrilled him, as it did a long time ago, and still he sensed the difference. Her voice was even softer when she put her cheek down to his whiskered face and talked to him, but in it he missed that which he could not quite bring back clearly through the lapse of time--the childish comrades.h.i.+p of her. Yet he began to wors.h.i.+p her anew, even more fiercely than he had loved the Nada of old. He was content now to lie with his nose touching her foot or dress; but when in the sunset of early evening she went into her room, and came out a little later with her curling hair clouding her shoulders and breast, and tied with a faded ribbon she had brought from Cragg's Ridge, he danced about her, yelping joyously, and she accepted the challenge in a wild race with him to the edge of the clearing.

Panting and flushed she ran back to Jolly Roger, and rested in his arms.

And it was McKay, with his face half hidden in her riotous hair, who saw a figure come suddenly out of the forest at the far end of the clearing. It was Father John. He saw him pause for an instant, and then stagger toward them, swaying as if about to fall.

The sudden stopping of his breath--the tightening of his arms--drew Nada's s.h.i.+ning eyes to his face, and then she, too, saw the little old Missioner as he swayed and staggered across the clearing. With a cry she was out of McKay's arms and running toward him.

Father John was leaning heavily upon her when McKay came up. His face was tense and his breath came in choking gasps. But he tried to smile as he clutched a hand at his breast.

"I have hurried," he said, making a great effort to speak calmly, "and I am--winded--"

He drew in a deep breath, and looked at Jolly Roger.

"Roger--I have hurried to tell you--Breault is coming. He cannot be far behind me. Possibly half a mile, or a mile--"

In the thickening dusk he took Nada's white face between his hands.

"I find--at last--that I was mistaken, child," he said, very calmly now. "I believe it is not G.o.d's will that you remain to be taken by Breault. You must go. There is no time to lose. If Breault does not stumble off the trail in this gloom he will be here in a few minutes.

Come."

Not a word did Nada say as they went to the cabin, and McKay saw her tense face as pale as an ivory cameo in the twilight. But something in the up-tilt of her chin and the poise of her head a.s.sured him she was prepared, and unafraid.

In the cabin the Leaf Bud met them, and to her Nada spoke quickly.

There was understanding between them, and Oosimisk dragged in a filled pack from the kitchen while Nada ran into her room and came out with the bundle.

Suddenly she was standing before McKay and Father John, her breast throbbing with excitement.

"There is nothing more to make ready," she said. "Yellow Bird has been with me all this day, and her spirit told me to prepare. We have everything we need."