"Neither do I understand," exclaimed the factor, going to the stove to
light his pipe. "He gave me his resignation as a paid servant of the
company tonight!"
"He is not going--to leave--the post?" breathed Melisse.
"He is leaving the service," reiterated her father. "That means he can
not long live at Lac Bain. He says he is going into the woods, perhaps
into Jean's country of the Athabasca. Has he told you more?"
"Nothing," said Melisse.
She was upon her knees in front of the little bookcase. A blinding
film burned in her eyes. She caught her breath, struggling hard to
master herself before she faced her father again. For a moment the
factor went into his room, and she took this opportunity of slipping
into her own, calling "Good night" to him from the partly closed door.
The next day it was Croisset who went along the edge of the Barrens
for meat. Gravois found Jan filling a new shoulder-pack with supplies.
It was their first encounter since he had learned that Jan had given
up the service.
"Diable!" he fairly hissed, standing over him as he packed his flour
and salt in a rubber bag. "Diable, I say, M. Jan Thoreau!"
Jan looked up, smiling, to see the little Frenchman fairly quivering
with rage.
"Bon jour, M. Jean de Gravois!" he laughed back.
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