d
not seem to see Carrigan, who stood nearest to him. He was looking at
St. Pierre's wife.

The look which David saw in her face was infinitely tender. She was
smiling at the misshapen hulk in the door as she might have smiled at a
little child. And David, looking back at the wide, deep-set eyes of the
man, saw the slumbering fire of a dog-like worship in them. They
shifted slowly, taking in the cabin, questing, seeking, searching for
something which they could not find. The lips moved, and again he heard
that weird and mysterious monotone, as if the plaintive voice of a
child were coming out of the huge frame of the man, crying out as it
had cried last night, "HAS-ANY-ONE-SEEN-BLACK-ROGER-AUDEMARD?"

In another moment St. Pierre's wife was at the deformed giant's side.
She seemed tall beside him. She put her hands to his head and brushed
back the grizzled black hair, laughing softly into his upturned face,
her eyes shining and a strange glow in her cheeks. Carrigan, looking at
them, felt his heart stand still. WAS THIS MAN ST. PIERRE? The thought
came like a lightning flash--and went as quickly; it was impossible and
inconceivable. And yet there was something more than pity in the voice
of the woman who was speaking now.

"No, no, we have not seen him, Andre--we have not seen Black Roger
Audemard. If he comes, I will call you. I promise, Michiwan. I will
call you!"

She was stroking his bearded cheek, and then she put an arm about his
twisted shoulders, and slowly she turned so that in a moment or two
they were facing the sun--and it seemed to Carrigan that she was
talking and sobbing and laughing in the same breath, as that great,
broken hulk of a man moved out slowly from under the caress of her arm
and went on his way. For a space she looked after him. Then in a swift
movement she closed the door and faced Carrigan. She did not speak, but
waited. Her head was high. She was breathing quickly. The tenderness
that a moment before had filled her face was gone, and in her eyes was
the blaze of fighting fires as she waited for him to speak--to give
voice to what she knew was passing in his mind.

XI

For a space there was silence between Carrigan and St. Pierre's wife.
He knew what she was thinking as she stood with her back to the door,
waiting half defiantly, her cheeks still flushed, her eyes bright with
the anticipation of battle. She was ready to fight for the broken
creature on the other side of the do