ed, Captain McTavish, that you won't join us.
We've been hoping for that--not for your death. And, perhaps, you
don't quite understand, after all. We're starting this brotherhood
honorably, with no malice toward any man. There's still hope for
you, if you'll give your oath not to divulge what you've learned
here, and not to follow me in this Cree Johnny affair. If you'll
do that, we'll give you your belongings, and set you on your way,
and--"

Donald held up his hand, with a gesture of finality.

"You know I can't do that," he said, drearily. "Don't make it any
harder for me. I understand your position now, in a way, and I
suppose I'll have to take my medicine. But let me warn you." His
tones grew menacing. "If I get out of this alive, though the chance
that I shall isn't one in a thousand, you will pay the penalty for
your crime."

The half-breed showed no trace of disturbance before the threat,
but moved away toward the door.

"I'll take the risk of that," he said quietly; and he went out of
the room.

Left to himself, Donald fell a prey to melancholy brooding for a
few brief moments, then resolutely cast the mood off his spirit.
He was little given to morbid reflections. Men whose lives are
daily liable to forfeit rarely are. It was characteristic of him
that, in this supreme hour of peril, his chief distress was over
the injury wrought on the Company he served, for which he was about
to lay down his life. If only he might send warning! If only, even
in his last minutes of life, he might meet a friendly trapper, tell
the great news, and send a messenger speeding north to Fort Severn,
or east to Fort Dickey! That much accomplished, he could resign
himself to die. ... Such the loyalty and devotion that this grim,
silent, far-reaching thing, the Company, breeds in its servants!

Of a sudden, another thought brought new bitterness to his soul,
for, despite all the masterfulness of his loyalty to the Company,
he was yet a man and a lover with a heart brimming over fondness
for the one woman. Now, it came to him that, were he indeed to die
somewhere out there in the wilderness, starved, frozen, alone, Jean
would never know how his last act had been in the faithful following
of her command. No, she could never know the truth concerning his
fate. There was poignant torment in the thought. It might be months,
years even, before his bleached, unrecognizable skeleton would be
found somewhere in the remotest waste, with