The morning was half gone when Shon McGann and Mary Callen stood beside
their horses, ready to mount and go; for Mary had persisted that she
could travel--joy makes such marvellous healing. When the moment of
parting came, Pierre was not there. Mary whispered to her lover
concerning this. The priest went to the door of the but and called him.
He came out slowly.
"Pierre," said Shon, "there's a word to be said between us that had best
be spoken now, though it's not aisy. It's little you or I will care to
meet again in this world. There's been credit given and debts paid by
both of us since the hour when we first met; and it needs thinking to
tell which is the debtor now, for deeds are hard to reckon; but, before
God, I believe it's meself;" and he turned and looked fondly at Mary
Callen.
And Pierre replied: "Shon McGann, I make no reckoning close; but we will
square all accounts here, as you say, and for the last time; for never
again shall we meet, if it's within my will or doing. But I say I am the
debtor; and if I pay not here, there will come a time!" and he caught
his shoulder as it shrunk in pain of his wound. He tapped the wound
lightly, and said with irony: "This is my note of hand for my debt, Shon
McGann. Eh, bien!"
Then he tossed his fingers indolently towards Shon, and turning his eyes
slowly to Mary Callen, raised his hat in good-bye.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73