"Yes, with all my heart.You are a true man, if God ever made one, and you have shown it to-night.""Ah!" said Raven, with a kind of sigh as he sank back and leaned up against his horse."That is good to hear.It is long since I have had a friend.""Quick, Martin!" said Cameron."He is wounded.""What? Where?" said the doctor, kneeling down beside him and tearing open his coat and vest."Oh, my God!" cried the doctor.
"He is--" The doctor paused abruptly.
"What do you say? Oh, Dr.Martin, he is not badly wounded?" Moira threw herself on her knees beside the wounded man and caught his hand."Oh, it is cold, cold," she cried through rushing tears.
"Can you not help him? Oh, you must not let him die.""Surely he is not dying?" said Cameron.
The doctor was silently and swiftly working with his syringe.
"How long, Doctor?" inquired Raven in a quiet voice.
"Half an hour, perhaps less," said the doctor brokenly."Have you any pain?""No, very little.It is quite easy.Cameron," he said, his voice beginning to fail, "I want you to send a letter which you will find in my pocket addressed to my brother.Tell no one the name.And add this, that I forgive him.It was really not worth while," he added wearily, "to hate him so.And say to the Superintendent Iwas on the straight with him, with you all, with my country in this rebellion business.I heard about this raid; and I fancy I have rather spoiled their pemmican.I have run some cattle in my time, but you know, Cameron, a fellow who has worn the uniform could not mix in with these beastly breeds against the Queen, God bless her!""Oh, Dr.Martin," cried the girl piteously, shaking him by the arm, "do not tell me you can do nothing.Try--try something." She began again to chafe the cold hand, her tears falling upon it.
Raven looked up quickly at her.
"You are weeping for me, Miss Moira?" he said, surprise and wonder in his face."For me? A horse-thief, an outlaw, for me? I thank you.And forgive me--may I kiss your hand?" He tried feebly to lift her hand to his lips.
"No, no," cried the girl."Not my hand!" and leaning over him she kissed him on the brow.His eyes were still upon her.
"Thank you," he said feebly, a rare, beautiful smile lighting up the white face."You make me believe in God's mercy."There was a quick movement in the group and Smith was kneeling beside the dying man.
"God's mercy, Mr.Raven," he said in an eager voice, "is infinite.
Why should you not believe in it?"
Raven looked at him curiously.
"Oh, yes," he said with a quaintly humorous smile, "you are the chap that chucked Jerry away from the door?"Smith nodded, then said earnestly:
"Mr.Raven, you must believe in God's mercy.""God's mercy," said the dying man slowly."Yes, God's mercy.What is it again? 'God--be--merciful--to me--a sinner.'" Once more he opened his eyes and let them rest upon the face of the girl bending over him."Yes," he said, "you helped me to believe in God's mercy." With a sigh as of content he settled himself quietly against the shoulders of his dead horse.
"Good old comrade," he said, "good-by!" He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.They waited for another, but there was no more.
"He is gone," said the doctor.
"Gone?" cried Moira."Gone? Ochone, but he was the gallant gentleman!" she wailed, lapsing into her Highland speech."Oh, but he had the brave heart and the true heart.Ochone! Ochone!" She swayed back and forth upon her knees with hands clasped and tears running down her cheeks, bending over the white face that lay so still in the moonlight and touched with the majesty of death.
"Come, Moira! Come, Moira!" said her brother surprised at her unwonted display of emotion."You must control yourself.""Leave her alone.Let her cry.She is in a hard spot," said Dr.
Martin in a sharp voice in which grief and despair were mingled.
Cameron glanced at his friend's face.It was the face of a haggard old man.
"You are used up, old boy," he said kindly, putting his hand on the doctor's arm."You need rest.""Rest?" said the doctor."Rest? Not I.But you do.And you too, Miss Moira," he added gently."Come," giving her his hand, "you must get home." There was in his voice a tone of command that made the girl look up quickly and obey.
"And you?" she said."You must be done.""Done? Yes, but what matter? Take her home, Cameron.""And what about you?" inquired Cameron.
"Smith, the constable and I will look after--him--and the horse.
Send a wagon to-morrow morning."
Without further word the brother and sister mounted their horses.
"Good-by, old man.See you to-morrow," said Cameron.
"Good-night," said the doctor shortly.
The girl gave him her hand.
"Good-night," she said simply, her eyes full of a dumb pain.
"Good-by, Miss Moira," said the doctor, who held her hand for just a moment as if to speak again, then abruptly he turned his back on her without further word and so stood with never a glance more after her.It was for him a final farewell to hopes that had lived with him and had warmed his heart for the past three years.Now they were dead, dead as the dead man upon whose white still face he stood looking down.
"Thief, murderer, outlaw," he muttered to himself."Sure enough--sure enough.And yet you could not help it, nor could she." But he was not thinking of the dead man's record in the books of the Mounted Police.
