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The Ruling Passion [27]

By Root 905 0


and "MAUDITS!" that came out of the swaying top. He grinned--until

he saw that a half-dozen more blows would fell the birch right on

the roof of the shanty.



"Are you crazy?" he cried, as he picked up an axe; "you know nothing

how to chop. You kill a man. You smash the cabane. Let go!" He

shoved one of the boys away and sent a few mighty cuts into the side

of the birch that was farthest from the cabin; then two short cuts

on the other side; the tree shivered, staggered, cracked, and swept

in a great arc toward the deep snow-drift by the brook. As the top

swung earthward, Raoul jumped clear of the crashing branches and

landed safely in the feather-bed of snow, buried up to his neck.

Nothing was to be seen of him but his head, like some new kind of

fire-work--sputtering bad words.



Well, this was the first thing that put an edge on Vaillantcoeur's

hunger to fight. No man likes to be chopped down by his friend,

even if the friend does it for the sake of saving him from being

killed by a fall on the shanty-roof. It is easy to forget that part

of it. What you remember is the grin.



The second thing that made it worse was the bad chance that both of

these men had to fall in love with the same girl. Of course there

were other girls in the village beside Marie Antoinette Girard--

plenty of them, and good girls, too. But somehow or other, when

they were beside her, neither Raoul nor Prosper cared to look at any

of them, but only at 'Toinette. Her eyes were so much darker and

her cheeks so much more red--bright as the berries of the mountain-

ash in September. Her hair hung down to her waist on Sunday in two

long braids, brown and shiny like a ripe hazelnut; and her voice

when she laughed made the sound of water tumbling over little

stones.



No one knew which of the two lovers she liked best. At school it was

certainly Raoul, because he was bigger and bolder. When she came

back from her year in the convent at Roberval it was certainly

Prosper, because he could talk better and had read more books. He

had a volume of songs full of love and romance, and knew most of

them by heart. But this did not last forever. 'Toinette's manners

had been polished at the convent, but her ideas were still those of

her own people. She never thought that knowledge of books could

take the place of strength, in the real battle of life. She was a

brave girl, and she felt sure in her heart that the man of the most

courage must be the best man after all.



For a while she appeared to persuade herself that it was Prosper,

beyond a doubt, and always took his part when the other girls

laughed at him. But this was not altogether a good sign. When a

girl really loves, she does not talk, she acts. The current of

opinion and gossip in the village was too strong for her. By the

time of the affair of the "chopping-down" at Lac des Caps, her heart

was swinging to and fro like a pendulum. One week she would walk

home from mass with Raoul. The next week she would loiter in the

front yard on a Saturday evening and talk over the gate with

Prosper, until her father called her into the shop to wait on

customers.



It was in one of these talks that the pendulum seemed to make its

last swing and settle down to its resting-place. Prosper was

telling her of the good crops of sugar that he had made from his

maple grove.



"The profit will be large--more than sixty piastres--and with that I

shall buy at Chicoutimi a new four-wheeler, of the finest, a

veritable wedding carriage--if you--if I--'Toinette? Shall we ride

together?"



His left hand clasped hers as it lay on the gate. His right arm

stole over the low picket fence and went around the shoulder that

leaned against the gate-post. The road was quite empty, the night

already dark. He could feel her warm breath on his neck as she

laughed.
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