is belly at the end
of his chain. He had scarcely moved since those terrible moments in
which he had torn the life out of the man-brute's throat. He had not
even growled at Durant when he dragged the body away. Upon him had
fallen a fearful and overwhelming oppression. He was not thinking of
his own brutal beatings, or of the death which Le Beau had been about
to inflict upon him with the club; he did not feel the presence of pain
in his bruised and battered body, nor in his bleeding jaws and
whip-lashed eyes. He was thinking of Nanette, the woman. Why had she
run away with that terrible cry when he killed the man-beast? Was it
not the man-beast who had struck her down, and whose hands were at her
white throat when he sprang the length of his chain and tore out his
jugular? Then why was it that she ran away, and did not come back?

He whimpered softly.

The afternoon was almost gone, and the early gloom of mid-winter night
in the Northland was settling thickly over the forests. In that gloom
the dark face of Durant appeared at the bars of Miki's prison.
Instinctively Miki had hated this foxhunter from the edge of the
Barrens, just as he had hated Le Beau, for in their brutish faces as
well as in their hearts they were like brothers. Yet he did not growl
at Durant as he peered through. He did not even move.

"UGH! LE DIABLE!" shuddered Durant.

Then he laughed. It was a low, terrible laugh, half smothered in his
coarse black beard, and it sent an odd chill through Miki.

He turned after that and went into the cabin.

Nanette rose to meet him, her great dark eyes glowing in a face dead
white. She had not yet risen above the shock of Le Beau's tragic death,
and yet in those eyes there was already something re-born. It had not
been there when Durant came to the cabin with Le Beau that afternoon.
He looked at her strangely as she stood with the baby in her arms. She
was another Nanette. He felt uneasy. Why was it that a few hours ago he
had laughed boldly when her husband had cursed her and said vile things
in her presence--and now he could not meet the steady gaze of her eyes?
DIEU! he had never before observed how lovely she was! He drew himself
together, and stated the business in his mind.

"You will not want the dog," he said. "I will take him away."

Nanette did not answer. She seemed scarcely to be breathing as she
looked at him. It seemed to him that she was waiting for him to
explain; and then the inspirati