Panting and flushed she ran back to Jolly Roger, and rested in his
arms.
And it was McKay, with his face half hidden in her riotous hair,
who saw a figure come suddenly out of the forest at the far end of
the clearing. It was Father John. He saw him pause for an instant,
and then stagger toward them, swaying as if about to fall.
The sudden stopping of his breath--the tightening of his arms--
drew Nada's shining eyes to his face, and then she, too, saw the
little old Missioner as he swayed and staggered across the
clearing. With a cry she was out of McKay's arms and running
toward him.
Father John was leaning heavily upon her when McKay came up. His
face was tense and his breath came in choking gasps. But he tried
to smile as he clutched a hand at his breast.
"I have hurried," he said, making a great effort to speak calmly,
"and I am--winded--"
He drew in a deep breath, and looked at Jolly Roger.
"Roger--I have hurried to tell you--Breault is coming. He cannot
be far behind me. Possibly half a mile, or a mile--"
In the thickening dusk he took Nada's white face between his
hands.
"I find--at last--that I was mistaken, child," he said, very
calmly now. "I believe it is not God's will that you remain to be
taken by Breault. You must go. There is no time to lose. If
Breault does not stumble off the trail in this gloom he will be
here in a few minutes.
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