le up an old score once an' fer all."
What was said further Jean could not distinguish, for several men just
then lifted up their voices in a rough song, showing that the rum was
already taking effect. But what she had heard caused her great
uneasiness. She understood now the object of these men. They were to
march against the mast-cutters, sweep down upon them in the dead of
night, and murder them all. She shuddered as she thought of this.
Something must be done to warn the mast-cutters of their danger. They
were the King's men, and it would not do to allow them to be slain
without a chance of defending themselves. Why should she not go and
give the warning? This idea at first seemed foolish. How could she
find the way? Would she dare to traverse the forest alone? But the
more she thought of it, the more she felt that she was the one who
should undertake the task. If she did not do something she could never
forgive herself. And what would her father say if he knew that she had
hesitated in the path of duty? It was a hard battle she fought as she
crouched there in the dark corner. She pictured to herself the gloomy
forest, the uncertainty of the way, and the struggle necessary before
she could reach the mast-cutters. Cautiously she crept to the little
window and peered out. How dismal and forbidding seemed the forest.
She could see the tree-tops waving and the snow swirling before the
wind. The prospect of going forth alone on such a night was far from
cheerful.
She was about to leave the window when a bearded face was suddenly
pressed against the glass. With a gasp of fear she staggered back, and
fled to the darkness of her corner. And there she crouched, waiting
with wide-staring eyes for what would happen next.
The voices in the adjoining room were becoming louder and more
boisterous. What she presently heard caused her to straighten suddenly
up, and a chill to sweep through her body. The men were calling for
her, and demanding the chief to bring her to them.
"We want the girl," she heard one man say.
"You won't get her," Norman replied. "She is my daughter, and you must
not touch her."
"Your daughter, be damned! You ain't got no daughter. You can't git
that off on us. She's in the other room, an' we want her quick."
What Norman said in reply Jean could not understand, for the noise the
men were making. But she did hear some one trying the door, and
cursing because he could no
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