'I shall wait for him,' she said softly, and the tenderness in her tone went straight to my heart, and it seemed to me a man might suffer much to be loved with love such as this.
In the early afternoon Graeme came to her. She met him with both hands outstretched, saying in a low voice--'I am very happy.'
'Are you sure?' he asked anxiously.
'Oh, yes,' she said, but her voice was like a sob; 'quite, quite sure.'
They talked long together till I saw that Craig must soon be coming, and I called Graeme away. He held her hands, looking steadily into her eyes and said--'You are better even than I thought; I'm going to be a better man.'
Her eyes filled with tears, but her smile did not fade as she answered--'Yes! you will be a good man, and God will give you work to do.'
He bent his head over her hands and stepped back from her as from a queen, but he spoke no word till we came to Craig's door. Then he said with humility that seemed strange in him, 'Connor, that is great, to conquer oneself. It is worth while. I am going to try.'
I would not have missed his meeting with Craig. Nelson was busy with tea. Craig was writing near the window. He looked up as Graeme came in, and nodded an easy good-evening; but Graeme strode to him and, putting one hand on his shoulder, held out his other for Craig to take.
After a moment's surprise, Craig rose to his feet, and, facing him squarely, took the offered hand in both of his and held it fast without a word. Graeme was the first to speak, and his voice was deep with emotion--'You are a great man, a good man. I'd give something to have your grit.'
Poor Craig stood looking at him, not daring to speak for some moments, then he said quietly--'Not good nor great, but, thank God, not quite a traitor.'
'Good man!' went on Graeme, patting him on the shoulder. 'Good man! But it's tough.'
Craig sat down quickly, saying, 'Don't do that, old chap!'
I went up with Craig to Mrs. Mavor's door. She did not hear us coming, but stood near the window gazing up at the mountains. She was dressed in some rich soft stuff, and wore at her breast a bunch of wild-flowers. I had never seen her so beautiful. I did not wonder that Craig paused with his foot upon the threshold to look at her. She turned and saw us. With a glad cry, 'Oh! my darling;you have come to me,' she came with outstretched arms. I turned and fled, but the cry and the vision were long with me.
It was decided that night that Mrs. Mavor should go the next week.
A miner and his wife were going east, and I too would join the party.
The camp went into mourning at the news; but it was understood that any display of grief before Mrs. Mavor was bad form. She was not to be annoyed.
But when I suggested that she should leave quietly, and avoid the pain of saying good-bye, she flatly refused--'I must say good-bye to every man. They love me and I love them.'
