Mile after mile slipped behind, and not until they reached the
mountain on which he had fought the missionary did Jan bring his dogs
to a walk. Melisse jumped from the sledge and ran quickly to his side.
"I can beat you to the top now!" she cried. "If you catch me--" There
was the old witching challenge in her eyes.
She sped up the side of the ridge. Panting and breathless, Jan pursued
with the dogs. Her advantage was too great for him to overcome this
time, and she stood laughing down at him when he came to the top of
the ridge.
"You're as pretty as a fairy, Melisse!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining
with admiration. "Prettier than the fairy in the book!"
"Thank you, brother! The one with golden hair?"
"Yes, all of them."
"I can't imagine how a girl would look with golden hair; can you,
Jan?" Before he could answer she added mischievously: "Did you see any
fairies at Churchill or York Factory?"
"None that could compare with you, Melisse."
"Thank you again, brother mine! I believe you DO still love me a
little."
"More than ever in my life," replied Jan quickly, though he tried to
hold his tongue.
As they went on to Ledoq's, he found that the joyousness of the
morning was giving way again to the old gloom and heartache. Brother
Jan, Brother Jan, Brother Jan! The words pounded themselves
incessantly in his brain until they seemed to keep time with his steps
beside the sledge.
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