There was
an uneasy tremor in Thornton's voice when he said:
"Jan, did you ever love a woman--love her until you were ready and
willing to die for her?"
The suddenness of the question wrung the truth from Jan's lips in a
low, choking voice. For an instant he thought that Thornton must have
guessed his secret.
"Yes, m'sieur."
Thornton leaned toward him, gripping his knees, and the misery in his
face was deeper than Jan had ever seen it before.
"I love a woman--like that," he went on tensely. "A girl--not a woman,
and she is one of your people, Jan--of the north, as innocent as a
flower, more beautiful to ME than--than all the women I have ever seen
before. She is at Oxford House. I am going home to--to save myself."
"Save yourself!" cried Jan. "Mon Dieu, m'sieur--does she not love
you?"
"She would follow me to the end of the earth!"
"Then--"
Thornton straightened himself and wiped his pale face. Suddenly he
rose to his feet and motioned for Jan to follow him. He walked swiftly
out into the night, and still faster after that, until they passed
beyond the town. From where he stopped they could look over the
forests far into the pale light of the south.
"THAT'S hell for me!" said Thornton, pointing. "It's what we call
civilization--but it's mostly hell, and it's all hell for me.
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