he calm and repose of the
gardens he had left. He had said that he did not know why he had come,
but Pearl did. She never doubted it. It was the call of her heart across
the world to him, seeking him, reaching him, drawing him to her.

"And does it make you unhappy to think of her now?" she asked still
softly.

"No," he said, "no, not now. But last night something in the music
caused the years to drop away and I was back there again and she rose
before me. Really, I felt her very presence. I saw her as plainly as I
see you now."

Pearl rose and shook the snow from her cloak. "Forget it," she said
scornfully. The little horse-shoe frown showed between her brows, and
her eyes as she looked at him were full of a sparkling disdain. "That
girl wasn't worth that," she snapped her fingers. "And here you've been
loping over the globe for years, because she turned you down. I should
think you'd feel like a fool." She spoke quite fearlessly, although
Seagreave had thrown up his head and stood looking at her with a white
face and compressed lips. "But that ain't the reason," she went on
shrewdly. "I know men. You like to think you quit things because of the
girl," she laughed that low, harsh, unpleasant laugh of hers. "You quit
'em because you got lazy, and anything like a responsibility was a bore.
That's straight."

Without another glance at him, she sped down the hill, like an arrow
shot from a bow.

CHAPTER XII

As that long, white winter slowly wore away there were many in the camp
who, although they had endured the strain of a wearing monotony through
many previous seasons, nevertheless suffered greatly from it; and, in
consequence, as the clock of the year began to indicate spring an almost
riotous joy was felt and expressed when it was announced through the
camp that the Black Pearl had again consented to dance for them.

It was considered a truly fitting celebration of the fact that there had
already been one great thaw, and, although there was every possibility
of things freezing up again, yet nevertheless spring had at last loosed
her hounds and they were hard on winter's traces. In fact, one belated
train, after hours spent on the road, had succeeded in pushing through,
an evidence that they all would soon be running with their accustomed,
if rather erratic regularity, and there was naturally a tremendous
excitement and jollification in the camp at this arrival of the first
mail bearing news from the o