The Triumph of John Kars Part 57

So the girl he loved was saved the contamination from which he desired to s.h.i.+eld her. So the pristine calm of the Mission of St. Agatha was left unbroken. Father Jose was left to his snuff-box and his mission of mercy. And Kars was glad.

His work was done. And now, on this day of days, as he watched its splendid birth, he thanked his G.o.d that the contamination of the gold world which had so long overshadowed would no longer threaten the life of the girl who was to be given into his keeping before its close.

The sun cleared the sky-line, a molten, magnificent spectacle. And as it rose the multi-hued escort of cloud fell away. Its duty was done.

It had launched the G.o.d of day upon its merciful task for mankind. It would go, waiting to conduct him to his nightly couch at the other side of the world.

Kars drew a deep breath. The draught of morning air was nectar to his widely expanding lungs. Realization of happiness rarely comes till it is past. Kars was realizing it to the full.

His eyes turned from the splendid vision. The landing was crowded with craft. But it was not the craft of trade which usually gathered at the close of summer. It was his own outfit, largely augmented. And it was deeply laden.

He dwelt upon it for some moments. Its appeal held him fascinated. A week had been spent upon the lading, a week of unalloyed happiness and deeply sentimental care. These were canoes laden with the many household goods and treasures of the feminine hearts who were about to take their places in his life. Those slight, graceful vessels contained a hundred memories of happiness and pain carefully taken from the settings to which they had so long been bound. He knew that they represented the yielding up of long years of treasured life upon the altar of sacrifice his coming had set up. He had no other feeling than thankfulness and tenderness. It stirred every fibre of his manhood to its depths.

His happy contemplation was suddenly broken. A sound behind him caught his quick ears. In a moment he had turned, and, in that moment, the deep happiness of his communing became a living fire of delight.

Jessie was standing in the mouth of the avenue which led down from the clearing. She stood there framed in the setting of ripe summer foliage, already tinging with the hues of fall. Her ruddy brown hair was without covering, and her tall slim figure was wrapped in an ample fur-lined cloak which reached to her feet. Kars recognized the garment as something he had dared to purchase for her in Leaping Horse, to keep her from the night and morning chills on the journey from the Fort. In his eyes she made a picture beyond all compare. Her soft cheeks were tinted with a blush of embarra.s.sment, and her smiling eyes were shyly regarding him.

He strode up to her, his arms outheld. The girl yielded to his embrace on the instant, and then hastily released herself, and glanced about her in real apprehension.

Kars smilingly shook his head.

"There's no one around," he comforted her.

"Are you quite sure?"

"Quite."

The girl led the way back to the landing.

"Tell me," she cried, glancing half shyly up at the strong, smiling face that contained in its rugged molding the whole meaning of life to her. "What--why are you down here--now?"

The man's responsive smile was half shamefaced. He shook his head.

"I can't just say. Maybe it's the same reason you're around."

"Oh, I just came along to look at things."

Kars' embarra.s.sment pa.s.sed. He laughed buoyantly.

"That's how I felt. I needed to look at--things."

"What things?"

The girl pressed him. Her great love demanded confession of those inner feelings and thoughts a man can so rarely express. Kars resorted to subterfuge.

"You see, I'm responsible to you and your mother for the outfit. I had to see nothing's amiss. There won't be a heap of time later, and we start right out by noon. You can trust Bill most all the time. And Charley's no fool on the trail. But I had to get around."

"So you got up before the sun to see to it."

Kars laughed again.

"Yes. Same as you."

The girl shook her head.

"Say, it won't do. I'll--I'll be frank. Yes. I was awake. Wide awake--hours. I just couldn't lie there waiting--waiting. I had to get around. I had to look at it all--again. Say, John, dear, it's our great day. The greatest in all life for us. And all this means--means just a great big whole world. So I stole out of the house, and hurried along to look at it. Am I foolish? Am I just a silly, sentimental girl? I--I--couldn't help it. True."

They were standing at the edge of the landing. The speeding waters were lapping gently at the prows of the moored craft under pressure of the light morning breeze. The groans of the summer-racked glacier across the river rumbled sonorously, accentuating the virgin peace of the world about them. The insect world was already droning its day-long song, and the cries of the feathered world came from the distance.

The girl's appeal was irresistible. Kars caught her in his arms, and his pa.s.sionate kisses rained on her upturned face. All the ardor of his strong soul gazed down into her half-closed eyes in those moments of rapture.

"You couldn't help it? No more could I," he cried, yielding all restraint before the pa.s.sion of that moment. "I had to get around. I had to see the day from its beginning. Same as I want to see it to its end. Great? Why, it's everything to me--to us, little Jessie. I want it all--all. I wouldn't miss a second of its time. I watched the first streak of the dawn, and I've seen the sun get up full of fire and glory. And that's just how this day is to us. Think of it, little girl, think of it. By noon you'll be my wife--my wife. And after, after we've eaten, and Father Jose and Bill have said their pieces, we'll be setting out down the river with all the folks we care for, for a new, big, wide world, and the wide open trail of happiness waiting for us. If it wasn't I'm holding you right now in my arms I guess it--it would be incredible."

But the girl had suddenly remembered the possibility of prying eyes.

With obvious reluctance she released herself from the embrace she had no desire to deny.

"Yes," she breathed, "it's almost--incredible." Then with a sudden pa.s.sionate abandon she held out her arms as though to embrace all that which told her of her joy. "But it's real, real. I'm glad--so glad."

It was a scene which had for its inspiration a world of the gentler human emotions.

The laden canoes had added their human freight. Each was manned by its small dusky crew, Indians tried in the service of the long trail, men of the Mission, and men who had learned to regard John Kars as a great white chief. It was an expedition that had none of the grim earnestness of the long trail. The dusky Indians, even, were imbued with the spirit of the moment. Every one of these people had witnessed the wonderful ceremonial of a white man's mating, the whole Mission had been feasted on white man's fare. Now the landing was thronged for the departure. Women, and men, and children. They were gathered there for the final G.o.dspeed.

Peigan Charley was consumed with his authority over the vessels which led the way, bearing the baggage of the party. He was part of the white man's life, therefore his contempt for the simple awe of the rest of his race, at the witnessing of the wedding ceremony, still claimed his profoundest "d.a.m.n-fool." Never were his feelings of superiority more deeply stirred.

Bill Brudenell piloted the vessel which bore Ailsa Mowbray towards the new life for which she had renounced her old home. Kars and his bride were the last in the procession, as the vessels swept out into the stream under the powerful strokes of the paddles.

It was an unforgetable moment for all. For the women it had perhaps an even deeper meaning than for any one else. It was happiness and regret blended in a confused tangle. But it was a tangle which time would completely unravel, and, flinging aside all regret, would set happiness upon its throne. For Bill it was the great desire of his life fulfilled. His friend, the one man above all others he regarded, had finally stepped upon the path he had always craved for him. For himself? His years were pa.s.sing. There was still work to be done in the unsavory purlieus of Leaping Horse.

For John Kars it was a moment of the profoundest, unalloyed joy. No searching of his emotions could have revealed anything but the wholesome feelings of a man who has achieved his destiny in those things which the G.o.d of All has set out for human desire. The world lay all before him. Wealth was his, and, in his frail barque, setting out upon the waters of destiny, was the wife he had won for himself from the bosom of the desolate north.

Father Jose, gray headed, aged in the long years of a life of sacrifice, stood at the forefront of the landing as the procession glided out on to the bosom of the stream. Simple in spirit, single in purpose, he regarded the going with the calmness which long years of trial had imposed upon him. His farewell was smiling. It was deep with truth and feeling. He knew it was the close of a long chapter in the book of his life's effort. He accepted it, and turned the page.

But for all the great gathering of his Mission about him he was a lonely little figure, and the sigh which followed his voiceless blessing came from a loyal heart which knew no other purpose than to continue to the end its work of patient, unremitting mercy.