From the instrument there came something so soft and sweet that John
Cummins closed his eyes as he held the woman against his breast and
listened. Not until he opened them again, and felt a strange chill
against his cheek, did he know that his beloved's soul had gone from
him on the gentle music of Jan Thoreau's violin.
CHAPTER II
MUKEE'S STORY
For many minutes after the last gentle breath had passed from the
woman's lips, Jan Thoreau played softly upon his violin. It was the
great, heart-broken sob of John Cummins that stopped him. As tenderly
as if she had fallen into a sweet sleep from which he feared to awaken
her, the man unclasped his arms and lowered his wife's head to the
pillow; and with staring black eyes Jan crushed his violin against his
ragged breast and watched him as he smoothed back the shimmering hair
and looked long and hungrily into the still, white face.
Cummins turned to him, and, in the dim light of the cabin, their eyes
met. It was then that Jan Thoreau knew what had happened. He forgot
his starvation. He crushed his violin closer, and whispered to
himself:
"The white angel ees--gone!"
Cummins rose from the bedside, slowly, like a man who had suddenly
grown old. His moccasined feet dragged as he went to the door.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25