_Chapter XXXIII_
Mark King awakened to a sensation of piercing cold. In his weakenedcondition the chill struck deep, the pain of it sore in his wound. Hemoved a little to draw his blankets closer about him and, as an awakingimpression, found that his strength, even though slowly, was surelyreturning to him. He was still terribly weak, but, thank God--andGloria!--that hideous faintness in which he had been unable to stir handor foot or to speak above a whisper had passed. He filled his lungs witha deep and grateful breath of satisfaction. In a day or two he would beable to carry on again, to do his part.
He turned his head, lifting it a trifle; already he had thought ofGloria, and now he sought her. The fire had burned down to a handful ofglowing coals; Gloria, then, must be asleep. For that, too, he wasgrateful. He had but faint remembrance and dim knowledge of what tasksmust have fallen to her lot, but his mind, active from the moment hiseyes flew open, was quick to understand that the burdens had fallen uponher shoulders and that she must have been in dire need of rest andsleep.
He could not see her anywhere; no doubt she lay in the shadowy darkbeyond the dying fire. He lay back, staring up into the gloom abovehim. It was thinning; day was coming or had come already. A day withsunshine! They could go out on the crust by the time that he was able tobe about----
Then he remembered the blankets! Last night he had had all of them,Gloria's as well as his own. He had wanted to make her take her coversand she had put him off, and he had gone to sleep, forgetting! Hestirred again, hastily, his hands groping, even his feet moving. He hadthem yet, his and hers. And she had slept through the cold night with nocovering while he, never waking until now, had lain warm andcomfortable. He struggled to turn on his side and got himself raised alittle despite the pain from the exertion, seeking her. She must befrozen----
Gloria was not in the cave. He sank back, sure of that. For she shouldbe sleeping close by the fire. Then she had gone down again for wood. Hefrowned and lay staring upward again. Gloria bringing wood while he layhere like a confounded log. He grew nervously restive at the thought; itwas unthinkable that she should do work like that. He saw her in hismind, struggling with the unaccustomed labour. And always he saw her ashe had first seen her, a fragile-looking girl, a girl with sweet littlehands as soft as rose petals. He remembered her as he had seen her thatfirst day, a vision of loveliness in her fluffy pink dress, her skinlike the skin of a baby, her eyes the soft, tender grey eyes of the girlto whom he had given his heart without reservation. The glorious Gloria,all slender delicacy, like a little mountain flower, the Gloria for whomit had been his duty and his high privilege to labour. He must fight toget his strength back, to get on his feet again, to save her from suchtoil as was no woman's work in the world, certainly never the work for agirl like Gloria.
He heard a sound at the cave's mouth. Gloria was coming back. He foundno words with which to greet her, but lay very still, waiting for her tocome in. An emotion of which he was ashamed and yet which was infinitelysweet swept over him: it was so wonderful a thing to have Gloria come tohim, nurse him, put her hand so tenderly on his. A thrill shot down hisfaintly stirring pulses as already he fancied her stealing softly to hisside. So he waited and, when she came where he could at last see her,watched.
She set her gun down; at first he wondered at that. Poor little Gloria,he thought; taking her rifle with her when she went down for wood,frightened and yet strong-hearted enough to go in spite of fear. Shecame on, not to him but to the smouldering coals. She had turned towardhim, but, no doubt, thought him still asleep. He watched her, stillknowing that presently she would come, awaiting her coming. And again hewas perplexed; he did not understand why Gloria walked like that. He hadnever seen her walk so before; she had always been so light of foot, sograceful--so like a fairy creature, scarcely touching the ground. Nowher feet dragged; she groped uncertainly; she was like one gone suddenlydizzy.
She dropped down by the coals, her face in her hands. The light was bad;he could hardly see her now. He heard a sigh that ended in a sob. Sherose, oh, so wearily. He saw her sway as she walked; she was throwingwood on the fire. It caught; a flame flared out; other flames followedwith their merry crackling and leaping lights. And now he saw Gloria'sface. It was drawn and haggard; it had been washed with tears; her eyeslooked enormous and unnaturally bright. He saw her hair; it was in wilddisarray, a tumble of disorder. He saw that she had sacks wrapped abouther lagging feet; that her clothes were torn, that her sleeves wereragged, that her arms were covered with long scratches! His firstthought, making his body tense with anger, was that he had not come intime to save her from Brodie's hands....
What was Gloria doing? Struggling with something on her back. Somethingwhich was tied across her shoulders. She got it free; it fell close tothe fire, played over by the light of the flames. He craned his neck andsaw; it was a great chunk of bear meat--he could see bits of the hidestill on it!
He could not understand. Not yet. All that he could do was stare at herand wonder and grope confusedly for the explanation. It was clear thatsomething was wrong with Gloria; she dropped down by the fire, sheslumped forward, she lay her face upon her crossed arms. He could seethe frail body shaking--he could hear her sudden wild sobbing.
The truth came upon him at last, dawning slowly, slowly.
"Gloria!" It was a gasp of more than amazement; consternation was in hisheart. "_Gloria_!"
She lifted her head and sat up. He saw her great wide-open eyes and thetears gushing from them. She fought to control herself, a sob in herthroat. She rose and came toward him in strange, wildly uncertain steps.
"Gloria! You----"
"Sh, Mark; you mustn't----"
But he couldn't lie still. He lifted himself upon his elbow and lookedat her with wondering eyes. She stood over him, looking on the verge ofcollapse. Slowly she came down to him, half kneeling, half falling.
"My God," he cried hoarsely. "You went for my bear? _You did it_."
She tried to smile at him, and into his own eyes there broke a suddengush of tears.
"You wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Gloria!" he cried out. "There is nogirl in all the world could have done that--there is no girl like you."
Her hand was questing his; he caught it and gripped it with all thestrength in him; he hurt her, and at last, with the pain, her smilebroke through.
"Gloria----"
"Mark?"
"Can you--not so soon, but some day--forgive me?"
She found only a faint whisper with which to answer him; her eyes wereas hungry as his.
"Can you forgive, Mark?"
And now, when their eyes clung together as their hands were alreadyclinging, each was marvelling that the other could forgive and love onewho had erred so.
THE END
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