"Your letter? At Nome?" He repeated the words, shaking his head. "No."
"And all this time--you have been thinking--I was dead?"
He nodded, because the thickness in his throat made it the easier form
of speech.
"I wrote you there," she said. "I wrote the letter before I jumped into
the sea. It went to Nome with Captain Rifle's ship."
"I didn't get it."
"You didn't get it?" There was wonderment in her voice, and then, if he
had observed it, understanding.
"Then you didn't mean that just now? You didn't intend to do it? It was
because you had blamed yourself for my death, and it was a great relief
to find me alive. That was it, wasn't it?"
Stupidly he nodded again. "Yes, it was a great relief."
"You see, I had faith in you even when you wouldn't help me," she went
on. "So much faith that I trusted you with my secret in the letter I
wrote. To all the world but you I am dead--to Rossland, Captain Rifle,
everyone. In my letter I told you I had arranged with the young Thlinkit
Indian. He smuggled the canoe over the side just before I leaped in, and
picked me up. I am a good swimmer. Then he paddled me ashore while the
boats were making their search."
In a moment she had placed a gulf between them again, on the other side
of which she stood unattainable. It was inconceivable that only a few
moments ago he had crushed her in his arms.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166