Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-12-14
CHAPTER XVII.
The Remuneration.

waka had said good night with CroiSset
and his wife. ard both Cummins and Me-
lisse had gone to their rooms, did he find
himself relieved Of the tension under
which he had struggled during all of that
nights rry,making in the cabin.
From the first he knew that his nerves
were strung by some strange and irde-
Unable sensation that was growing with
in him-something which he could hardly
have explained at first, but which swiftly
took form and meaning. and oppressed
him more the hours flew by Almost
fiercely he strove to fight back the signs
Of it from his face and voice. Never had
he played as on this night. His violin
leaped with life. his voice rose high in
the wild forest songs of Jean de GravoiS
and Croisset, he sprang aloft in the carl
bou dance until the tips of his fingers
touched the log beams overhead: and yet
there was none of the flush Of excite
ment in his face. no joyous fire flashing
from his eyes upon Melissa.
She saw this and wondered. A dozen
times her eyes encountered his, straight
and questioning. when the others were
not looking. She saw in response only
dull. lusterless glow. that was not like the
Jan who had pursued her that day on the
mountain top.
Jan was unaware of what was lacking
in him. He smiled when she gave him
these glances; deep down in him his heart
trembled at the beauty of her flushed
swimming depths Of her clear eyes; but
the mask of the thing at which she Won
dered still remained.
After the others had gone Cumnins sat
up to smoke pipe. When he had fin
ished he went to his room. Jan was now
sleeping in room at the company's store
and after a time he rose silently to take
down his cap and coat. He opened the
outer door quietly, so as not to arouse
Melissa, who had gone to bed half an
hour before.
As he was about to go out there came
sound-a low, gentle whispered word.
JAM"
He turned Melissa stood in her door.
She had not undresSed, and her hair was
still done UP in its soft coils, with the
crimson bakneesh shining in it. She came
to him hesitatingly, until she stood with
her two hands upon his arm, gazing into
his tense face with that same question in
her eyes.
Jan. you were not pleased with me to-
night" she whispered. Tell me why?"
Il was pleased with you Melissa he
replied.
He took one Of the hands that was
clinging to his arm and turned his face
to the open night. Countless stars cleaned
in the sky, as they had shone on an
other night fifteen years ago. From
where they stood they saw the pale
arrows out over the dome of the earth.
with the same lonely song that it had
played when the woman died. Gaunt and
solitary. the tall spruce doomed up against
the silver glow. its thick head signing
family in the night wind as If in wailing
| answer to that far-away music in the
skies.
Suddenly there leaped up from Jan Tho
reau's breast a breath that burst from
his lips in low cry.
"MelisSe Melissa it was lust fifteen
years ago that came In through that
forest out there, starved and dying. and
played my violin when your mother died.
You were a little baby then, and since
that night you have never pleased me
more than now"
He dropped her hand and turned square
~ to the door. to hide what he knew had
come into his face. He heard a soft.
neart-broken little sob behind him, and
something fell rustling upon his arm.
Jan. dear JAM
Melissa crowded herself into his arms,
her hair torn down and tumbling about
the old pride and the old love. the love
and pride of what seemed to Jan to be-
years ago. the old childish pleading for
his cOmradeship. for the fun Of his strong
arms. the frolic of his laugh. Irresistibly
they called to him. and in the old glad
way he frightened his arms about her
shoulders, his eyes glowing and life leap
ing back. flushed and full. into his face.
She laughed. happy and trembling, her
lips held up to him.
Il didn't please you today she whis-
pered. Il will never do up my hair
again.
He kissed her and his arms dropped
from her shoulders.
Never, never again-until you have
forgotten to love me-" she repeated.
Good night Brother JAM
Across the open. through the thinned
edge Of the black spruce. deeper and
n .,.tl
| ness of the forest, Jan went from the
door that closed between him and Me-
lisse, her last words still whispering in
his ears, the warm touch of her hair on
his cheeks-and the knowledge of what
this day had meant for him swiftly surg
ing upon him. bringing with 1t torment
which racked him to the soul.
Fifteen years ago! He stopped and
looked up, the starlight whitening his
face. There was no change in this night
from that other one Of ages and ages ago.
There were the same stars, like fierce
eyes of pale fire. robbed Of softness by
the polar cold; there were the same
cloudlesS blue space, the same kissing
flashes of the aurora leaping through it's
infinity. the same trees that had listened
to his moaning prayers on that night
when he had staggered into Lac Bain
He went on until he came to where the
beaten trail swent up and away from a
swamp. AS wildly as if it had happened
but yesterday. he remembered how he
had dragged himself through this swamp.
bleeding and starving, his violin c!utched
to his breast, guided by the barking of
dogs. which seemed to come from a mill
lion miles away. He plunged into it now
picking his tangled way until he stood
upon giant ridge. from which he looked
out through the white night into the lin
itless barrens to the north.
Along the edge Of those barrens he had
come, daring the hundred deaths between
hunters cabin and Indian wigwam. starv-
ing at times almost dying of cold. build
ing fires to keep the wolves back. and
playing-always playing to keep I'D his
courage, until he found Melissa. Fifteen
years had passed since then. and the
cumulative force of the things that had
grown out of those years had fallen upon
him this day. He had felt 1t first when
Melissa turned upon him at the foot Of
the mountain: and after that in the cabin
in every breath he drew. in every look
that he gave her. For him she had
changed for all time. She was no longer
the little Melissa. his sister. And yet
He was almost saying her last words
aloud
Good night, Brother JAM
She had come to him that day to let
him kiss her. as she had come to him a
thousand times before; but he had not
kissed her in the old way. 1t was a diff
ferent love that his lips had given, and
even now the hot blood surged again into
his face as he thought of what he had
DONE His was a different idea of honor
from that held by men born to the ways
of passion.
In that which had stirred his blood
thrilling him with strange joy as he held
her in his arms, he saw more than the
/