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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"Flower of the North"

"Listen. It is best that I tell you. You are a man,
you will understand, without being told all. From Churchill I
brought news which it was necessary for me to tell Jeanne. It was
terrible news, and she is distressed under its weight. Your honor
will not allow you to inquire further, M'sieur. I can tell you no
more than this--that it is a grief which belongs to but one person
on earth--herself. I ask you to help me. Be blind to her
unhappiness, M'sieur. Believe that it is the distress of the peril
through which she has passed. A little later I will tell you all,
and you will understand. But it is impossible now. I confide this
much in you--I ask you this--because--"
Pierre's eyes were half closed, and he looked as though unseeing
over Philip's head.
"I ask you this," he repeated, softly, "because I have guessed--
that you love her."
A cry of joy burst from Philip's lips.
"I do, Pierre--I do--I do--"
"I have guessed it," said Pierre. "You will help me--to save her!"
"Until death!"
"Then you will go with us to Fort o' God, and from there you will
go at once to your camp on Blind Indian Lake."
Philip felt the sweat breaking out over his face. He was still
weak. His voice was unnatural, and trembled.


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