It has never
failed me."
Over them the piled mass slid closer. The forehead of Pierre gleamed
with sweat, but a strong purpose made him talk on. At least he could
take all the foreboding of death from the child, and when the end came
it would be swift and wipe them both out at one stroke. She clung to
him, eager to believe.
"I've closed my eyes so that I can believe."
"It has never failed me. It saved me when I fought two men. One of
them I crippled and the other died. You see, the power of the cross is
as great as that. Do you doubt it now, Mary?"
"Do you believe in it so much--really--Pierre?"
Each time there was a little lowering of her voice, a little pause and
caress in the tone as she uttered his name, and nothing in all his
life had stirred Red Pierre so deeply with happiness and sorrow.
"Do you believe, Pierre?" she repeated.
He looked up and saw the shuddering mass of the landslide creeping
upon them inch by inch. In another moment it would loose itself with a
rush and cover them.
"I believe," he said.
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