SEEN THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR.
Owen Dugdale had been more deeply affected by what his friend had said
about the little witch of the fort than even Cuthbert suspected.
Somehow the lonely lad had never conceived of such a possibility as
having a cousin to love, and when he heard of it for the first time he
was staggered by the change this seemed to make in affairs.
Unable to properly ponder over the matter within the tent where Eli
would naturally be wanting to ask ordinary questions that must disturb
his mental scrutiny, he determined to go by himself and spend an hour or
so threshing matters out once and for all.
This hatred for the old factor had become so much a part of his nature
that he was able to only see one side of the case, and for the first
time in his life he found himself beginning to entertain a slight
suspicion that he had purposely blinded his eyes to facts that might
present a different aspect to things.
Memories of his sainted mother arose to haunt him; perhaps the incident
of little Sallie and her conception of her "duty" by her brute of a
father, just because she had promised the mother who was gone to watch
over him, had awakened these thoughts afresh, for Owen, too, had
promised to try and overcome his hard feelings for the old factor,
though as yet without making any progress.
Still, tonight he seemed to be in a more amiable mood than for a long
time.
Before his mind arose the last scene, when he knelt beside his widowed
mother, and heard her whispered prayer that he might grow up to be a
noble man, free from the accursed Gregory spirit that had helped to make
her own life unhappy.
Had he made an earnest effort that way?
Owen felt conscience-stricken when he remembered that he never once
thought of his angel mother without a feeling of bitter animosity toward
the unrelenting parent who had driven her forth when she married against
his will.
And now a new factor had been sprung upon him in the shape of this
cousin!
Who was she and what could she be like?
He knew there had been another daughter, just as he had told Cuthbert,
who had married the man her father picked out, only to suffer as all
ill-used wives do; until matters went too far and Alexander Gregory had
driven him out of the region.
This daughter then had enjoyed all that money could secure for her
during the few years she lived after her child came, so that the little
one must be looked upon as the heiress of all the old factor's wealth;
and he was said to have accumulated much of this world's goods during
his life on the Saskatchewan.
But this interested Owen not a particle, for he was quite free from any
desire to share in the old man's money.
Whoever this girl might be, she was welcome to all the factor possessed,
for he would never touch a penny, he was bound.
It made him writhe a little to think, however, that the child of one
daughter was rolling in wealth, so to speak, while he, the only issue of
the other marriage, was like the foxes and had hardly more than a hole
wherein to lay his head.
Still, she was a girl, while he as a hardy boy felt no need of
comfort--given a gun and some provisions and he feared not the desolate
places of the Great North Land; he had wrested many of Nature's secrets
from her bosom and could hold his own in the blizzard's blast as well as
the animals.
But he must get by himself to think all this over and fight the battle
again, this time for good and all--it might make a difference if there
were some one else besides the stern old factor, in whose veins ran the
same blood; yes, that was something he had never considered before.
So muttering some sort of an excuse to Eli he had wandered forth into
the night.
He, too, had heard of the arrival of the batteau from above, and
catching some casual words that were dropped knew there was trouble
ahead for the immediate future, since a company of rival fur gatherers
had swooped down upon ground that came within the jurisdiction of the
Fort Harmony post, though often in dispute, and refused to leave when
threatened by the agents of Gregory.
That might mean bloody war, for it so happened once in a while; and in
times past scenes of violence had marked many a meeting of these rival
companies.
Even this fact did not interest Owen to any extent just now.
At another time he might have felt his pulses thrill with eagerness, for
having spent his whole existence in this region, he was naturally
impregnated with the spirit that dominated the lives of those who
depended upon the gathering of furs for their living, and Owen besides
had inherited some of the Gregory combativeness.
He was thinking of that cousin and feeling an eagerness he could not
overcome to set eyes on her for himself.
What was she like?
If she looked at all a Gregory he felt sure he could never care for her,
since his feeling of intense dislike toward Alexander the factor was too
deep-rooted to be easily cast out.
What was to hinder his wandering around near the big house used as an
office and storeroom as well as the residence of the factor?
If Cuthbert had done so without attracting attention surely he could,
and perhaps he might also be favored with just a little glimpse of the
girl.
Even while allowing himself to be lured into this sort of thing by some
strange feeling within, Owen was curling his lip sarcastically at the
idea of his ever being reconciled to the grandfather who had ruined the
lives of his parents, making them so much harder and bitter than would
otherwise have been the case.
But with all his animosity toward Dugdale, the timber cruiser who had
won the heart of his favorite child, the factor had not been able to
fully mar their lives, and Owen knew that true love had reigned in that
humble cabin far away beyond the jurisdiction of old Gregory up to the
time death took the father and husband away.
Presently he found his footsteps had carried him near the large building
and he avoided the office end, as he did not wish it to appear that he
was at all curious concerning the grave news brought in by the scouts
who had come with the batteau from the upper reaches of the river.
It was in the hope of hearing the same voice which had attracted
Cuthbert that brought him close to the rear of the building, where the
wing was used as a home by Mr. Gregory.
Lights abounded in various parts of the house, which, being built for
the most part of huge logs, weatherbeaten from long years of service,
but still substantial, gave evidence of being a comfortable abode; and
it was not long ere Owen felt a thrill pass through his being as he
caught a sudden burst of childish song, which ceased almost as quickly
as it had begun, as though the singer just had to give utterance to her
buoyant feelings in such little snatches of music.
Eagerly he waited, hoping that she would again lift up her sweet voice,
for it had sounded like the trill of birds in the woodland to his
enraptured ear.
Years had passed since this lad had heard a little child's voice in
song; or, indeed, any music, for his mother's sad life had not been
conducive to merry feelings, and one has to be at least fairly happy to
sing.
And when the child again broke forth and caroled a little French
lullaby, as though singing to her dolly, Owen stood there, nervously
opening and closing his hands, as though enthralled beyond measure.
When the song had died away he could no longer resist the temptation to
feast his eyes upon the singer.
This would not be difficult to do, for the door was open, and all that
seemed necessary was for him to move still closer and bend forward.
He did not fancy being seen in such an act, no matter how honorable his
intention, for these rough dwellers in the wilds have a peculiar code of
their own, and spying of any kind is severely frowned down upon.
Nevertheless he could not let the opportunity pass unimproved; and so
Owen began to move forward, trying to keep beyond the strongest path of
light that flowed from the open door.
When he thrust his head forward and saw the interior of the room he
stood there as if frozen into a pillar of ice.
If the spectacle of that little witch with the golden locks had held
Cuthbert spellbound, imagine how it affected this lad, who knew he was
looking on the only close relative he had in the wide world, saving the
factor--who did not count, anyway. He felt as though he could not tear
himself away, there was something so fascinating about the small maid
and her cunning ways, as she rocked her dolly and went through all the
necessary operations required to put a real flesh and blood baby to
sleep.
And what made it all the more entrancing to Owen was the unmistakable
fact that it seemed to him he must be looking upon the face of his own
dearly loved mother when she was a child; for the sister's little one
had, as is often the case, resembled the one so much in her anxious
mind, rather than herself.
Looking thus upon such a charming picture, was it strange that Owen
found himself thinking along certain lines that up to now he would have
cast from him with scorn, as an evidence of weakening?
Cuthbert had made no mistake when he concluded that, sooner or later,
through the means of this little peacemaker, must the vendetta existing
between Owen and his grandfather be brought to a close.
When she had laid her doll carefully down and stroked it gently, just as
a real mother might do with her sleeping babe, the child tiptoed about
the room, casting many an anxious glance toward the crib, as though
fearful lest she awaken the inanimate bundle reposing there--it was so
natural that Owen could not smile, even while he was feeling a sudden
yearning to know this charming little relative at closer quarters.
In that time he stood there all danger of his wanting to fly once more
from the stockade vanished forever; and he even wondered whether his
grandfather may not after all have had some such scheme in mind in
inviting him to visit him, believing that the presence of this midget,
and the fact that she was his own true cousin, would have a wonderfully
soothing effect upon the truculent spirit of the boy.
Now she approached the door, as though either drawn by some subtle
spirit, or a desire to glance out at the heavens to see what the weather
might be.
Owen dared not move for fear lest such action must attract the very
attention he was seeking to avoid; so he stood there as though he might
be a post, and awaited the outcome with mingled feelings of anxiety and
delight.
It was not long in coming, the discovery.
He felt, rather than saw, her gaze fall upon him, and she seemed to
stand there in some vague sense of terror at first, as though fearing
that the eavesdropper might mean her harm--afterwards Owen understood
why she should have this feeling better than he did just then, but it
pained him to think that his presence should bring fear to her gentle
little heart, and so he smiled.
Although he did not know it himself, when Owen smiled, his face took on
an expression that must have given confidence to a skeptic, for as is
the case with all persons naturally grave, his countenance was lighted
up with the sudden burst of radiance that sprang from his very soul.
The child saw it and immediately her fear seemed to take flight, and she
even smiled back at him.
"Come in, boy, and see my new dolly," she said, eagerly; and that was an
invitation Owen Dugdale could not have declined under any conditions.
So he who had sworn never again to set foot under the roof of the
resident factor walked into his house only too willingly.