ve won, because it is
always stronger than hate. Besides, as you lay there bleeding and
helpless, you looked different to my Carmin than as you did when you
hanged her brother. So they dragged you up under a tree, and after that
they plotted together and planned, while I was away up the river on the
raft. The feminine mind works strangely, M'sieu David, and perhaps it
was that thing we call intuition which made them do what they did.
Marie-Anne knew it would never do for you to see and recognize my
Carmin, so in their scheming of things she insisted on passing herself
off as my wife, while my Carmin came back in a canoe to meet me. They
were frightened, and when I came, the whole thing had gone too far for
me to mend, and I knew the false game must be played out to the end.
When I saw what was happening--that you loved Marie-Anne so well that
you were willing to fight for her honor even when you thought she was
my wife--I was sure it would all end well. But I could take no chances
until I knew. And so there were bars at your windows, and--"

St. Pierre shrugged his shoulders, and the lines of grief came into his
face again, and in his voice was a little break as he continued: "If
Roger had not gone out there to fight back the flames from the graves
of his dead, I had planned to tell you as much as I dared, M'sieu
David, and I had faith that your love for our sister would win. I did
not tell you on the river because I wanted you to see with your own
eyes our paradise up here, and I knew you would not destroy it once you
were a part of it. And so I could not tell you Carmin was my wife, for
that would have betrayed us--and--besides--that fight of yours against
a love which you thought was dishonest interested me very much, for I
saw in it a wonderful test of the man who might become my brother if he
chose wisely between love and what he thought was duty. I loved you for
it, even when you sat me there on the sand like a silly loon. And now,
even my Carmin loves you for bringing me out of the fire--But you are
not listening!"

David was looking past him toward the door, and St. Pierre smiled when
he saw the look that was in his face.

"Nepapinas!" he called loudly. "Nepapinas!"

In a moment there was shuffling of feet outside, and Nepapinas came in.
St. Pierre held out his two great, bandaged hands, and David met them
with his own, one bandaged and one free. Not a word was spoken between
them, but their eyes were the ey