ulated Nicholas.
"Why, yes, and they always care a heap about each other when they're
twins."
But Muckluck stared incredulously.
"_Two_ at the same time!" she exclaimed. "It's like that, then, in your
country?"
The Boy saw not astonishment alone, but something akin to disgust in
the face of the Princess. He felt, vaguely, he must justify his
twinship.
"Of course; there's nothing strange about it; it happens quite often."
"_Often?_"
"Yes; people are very much pleased. Once in a while there are even
three--"
"All at the same time!" Her horror turned into shrieks of laughter.
"Why, your women are like our dogs! Human beings and seals never have
more than one at a time!"
The old man in the corner began to moan and mutter feverishly. Nicholas
went to him, bent down, and apparently tried to soothe him. Muckluck
gathered up the supper-things and set them aside.
"You were at the Holy Cross school?" asked the Boy.
"Six years--with Mother Aloysius and the Sisters. They very good."
"So you're a Catholic, then?"
"Oh yes."
"You speak the best English I've heard from a native."
"I love Sister Winifred. I want to go back--unless"--she regarded the
Boy with a speculative eye--"unless I go your country."
The sick man began to talk deliriously, and lifted up a terrible old
face with fever-bright eyes glaring through wisps of straight gray
hair. No voice but his was heard for some time in the ighloo, then, "I
fraid," said Muckluck, crouching near the fire, but with head turned
over shoulder, staring at the sick man.
"No wonder," said the Boy, thinking such an apparition enough to
frighten anybody.
"Nicholas 'fraid, too," she whispered, "when the devil talks."
"The devil?"
"Yes. Sh! You hear?"
The delirious chatter went on, rising to a scream. Nicholas came
hurrying back to the fire with a look of terror in his face.
"Me go get Shaman."
"No; he come soon." Muckluck clung to him.
They both crouched down by the fire.
"You 'fraid he'll die before the Shaman gets here?"
"Oh no," said Muckluck soothingly, but her face belied her words.
The sick man called hoarsely. Nicholas got him some water, and propped
him up to drink. He glared over the cup with wild eyes, his teeth
chattering against the tin. The Boy, himself, felt a creep go down his
spine.
Muckluck moved closer to him.
"Mustn't say he die," she whispered. "If Nicholas think he die, he drag
him out--leave him in the sno
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