kill you. Non, her
happiness is mine. Dead men tell no tales, m'sieu, but there are times
when living men also keep tales to themselves. And that is what you are
going to do, M'sieu Carrigan. You are going to keep to yourself the
thing that happened behind the rock. You are going to keep to yourself
the mumblings of our poor mad Andre. Never will they pass your lips. I
know. I swear it. I stake my life on it!" St. Pierre was talking slowly
and unexcitedly. There was an immeasurable confidence in his deep
voice. It did not imply a threat or a warning. He was sure of himself.
And his eyes had deepened into blue again and were almost friendly.

"You would stake your life?" repeated Carrigan questioningly. "You
would do that?"

St. Pierre rose to his feet and looked about the cabin with a shining
light in his eyes that was both pride and exaltation. He moved toward
the end of the room, where the piano stood, and for a moment his big
fingers touched the keys; then, seeing the lacy bit of handkerchief
that lay there, he picked it up--and placed it back again. Carrigan did
not urge his question, but waited. In spite of his effort to fight it
down he found himself in the grip of a mysterious and growing thrill as
he watched St. Pierre. Never had the presence of another man had the
same effect upon him, and strangely the thought came to him that he was
matched--even overmatched. It was as if St. Pierre had brought with him
into the cabin something more than the splendid strength of his body, a
thing that reached out in the interval of silence between them, warning
Carrigan that all the law in the world would not swerve the chief of
the Boulains from what was already in his mind. For a moment the
thought passed from David that fate had placed him up against the
hazard of enmity with St. Pierre. His vision centered in the man alone.
And as he, too, rose to his feet, an unconscious smile came to his lips
as he recalled the boastings of Bateese.

"I ask you," said he, "if you would really stake your life in a matter
such as that? Of course, if your words were merely accidental, and
meant nothing--"

"If I had a dozen lives, I would stake them, one on top of the other,
as I have said," interrupted St. Pierre. Suddenly his laugh boomed out
and his voice became louder. "M'sieu Carrigan, I have come to offer you
just that test! Oui, I could kill you now. I could put you at the
bottom of the river, as Bateese thinks is right. Mon Die