"Food was absolutely forbidden, but he got it from another patient early
this morning while the nurse was out for a moment. It has killed him."
"'Twas the least he could do, but no credit's due him. It was to be. I'm
not envying Father Bourassa nor her there with him."
Varley made no reply. He was watching the receding storm with eyes which
told nothing.
Finden spoke once more, but Varley did not hear him. Presently the door
opened and Father Bourassa entered. He made a gesture of the hand to
signify that all was over.
Outside, the sun was breaking through the clouds upon the Western prairie,
and there floated through the evening air the sound of a child's voice
singing beneath the trees that fringed the river:
"Will you come back, darlin'? Never heed the pain and blightin',
Never trouble that you're wounded, that you bear the scars of fightin';
Here's the luck o' Heaven to you,
Here's the hand of love will brew you
The cup of peace--ah, darlin', will you come back home?"