"But it is not all over with Julie Breton," she insisted.

He turned with brows raised questioningly.

"It has left her--changed. She will never be the same."

"What do you mean? Dr. Hunter said you would be as strong as ever, by spring."

"Ah, but I do not speak of my body, Jean Marcel."

He gazed in perplexity at her wistful face. In a moment his eyes again sought the window.

For a long s.p.a.ce, she was silent. Then a suppressed sob roused him from his bitter thoughts and he heard the strained voice of the girl.

"I know all," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Gillies, and Dr. Hunter--when I asked him--told me--long ago. We have kept it from Pere Henri. It seems years, for I have been thinking much since then--lying awake, thinking."

"Julie, what has been worrying you? Don't let what I did cause you pain," he pleaded, not catching the significance of her words. "It's all right, Julie. You owe me nothing--I understand."

"Ah, but you do not understand," she said, smiling at the man's averted face.

"Julie, I have suffered, but I want you to be happy. Don't think of Jean Marcel."

"But it is of Jean Marcel of the great heart that I must think--have been thinking, for days and days." She was sitting erect, tense; her pale face drawn with emotion.

"I tell you I know it all," she cried, "how they--_he_, feared to start in the storm--and waited--ordered you to wait. But no wind or snow could hold Jean Marcel, and in spite of them, he brought Dr. Hunter to Whale River--and saved Julie Breton."

Dumb with surprise at her knowledge of what he thought he and Hunter alone knew--at the scorn in her voice, Marcel listened with pounding heart.

"Yes, they told me," she went on, "how Jean Marcel heard the news when he reached Whale River and, without sleep, that night hurried south for help, swifter than men had ever travelled, because Julie Breton was in peril. Dr. Hunter has told me all; how you and Fleur fought wind and snow to bring him to Whale River--and Julie Breton. And now you ask her not to thank you--you who gave her back her life."

Only the low sobbing of the girl broke the silence. In a moment the paroxysm pa.s.sed, and she looked through tears at the man who sat with bowed head in hands, as she faltered:

"Ah, will you not see--not understand? Must I tell you--that I--love--Jean Marcel?"

Dazed, Jean rose. With a hoa.r.s.e cry of "Julie!" he groped to the bed and took her in his yearning arms.

After the years--she had come home.

Later, Mrs. Gillies looked in to see a dusky head on the shoulder of the man who knelt by the bed, and on the coverlet beside them the great head of Fleur, who gazed up into two illumined faces through narrow eyes which seemed to comprehend as her bushy tail slowly swept to and fro.

In June there was a wedding at Whale River, with an honored guest who journeyed up the coast from Fort George for the ceremony, John Hunter.

The Mission church overflowed with post people and the visiting Crees, few of whom but had known some kindness from Julie Breton. In the robes of his order, Pere Breton faced the bride and groom. Beside the former, gravely stood the matron of honor; her gown of slate-gray and snowy white, carefully groomed for the occasion by the faithful Jules, glossy with superb vitality; her great neck circled by a white ribbon knotted in a bow--which it had required days to accustom her to wear--in strange contrast to the ma.s.sive dignity of the head. From priest to bride and groom, curiously her slant eyes shifted, in wonder at the proceeding.

The ceremony over, the bride impulsively kissed the slate-gray head of the dog while a hum of approval swept the church. Then, before repairing with their friends to the Mission House, where the groaning table awaited them, Julie and Jean Marcel, accompanied by Fleur, went to the stockade. Three gray noses thrust through the pickets whined a welcome.

Three gigantic, wolfish huskies met them at the gate with wild yelps and the mad swishing of tails. Then the happy Jean and Julie gave the whelps of the wolf their share of the wedding feast.

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