"
His finger twisted involuntarily into the bullet-hole in the pelt, and
he paused a moment.
"Keep us from getting lost, O Bon Jesu."
Again there was a pause, his eyes opened wide, and he said:
"Do you think mother's lost, father?"
A heavy broken breath came from the father, and he replied haltingly:
"Mebbe--mebbe so."
Dominique's eyes closed again. "I'll make up some," he said slowly: "And
if mother's lost, O Bon Jesu, bring her back again to us, for
everything's going wrong."
Again he paused, then went on with the prayer as it had been taught him.
"Teach us to hear Thee whenever Thou callest, and to see Thee when Thou
visitest us, and let the blessed Mary and all the saints speak often to
Thee for us. O Christ, hear us. Lord have mercy upon us. Christ, have
mercy upon us. Amen."
Making the sign of the cross, he lay back, and said: "I'll go to sleep
now, I guess."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
III
The man sat for a long time looking at the pale, shining face, at the
blue veins showing painfully dark on the temples and forehead, at the
firm little white hand, which was as brown as a butternut a few weeks
before. The longer he sat, the deeper did his misery sink into his soul.
His wife had gone he knew not where, his child was wasting to death, and
he had for his sorrows no inner consolation. He had ever had that touch
of mystical imagination inseparable from the far north, yet he had none
of that religious belief which swallowed up natural awe and turned it to
the refining of life, and to the advantage of a man's soul.
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