the foreigner-第41章

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〃Yes；〃　cried　the　girl；　and　ran　into　the　little　room　which　she　shared　with　Paulina　and　her　child。

Once　in　that　retreat；　she　threw　herself　on　her　knees　by　the　bed；　put　the　letter　before　her；　and　pressed　her　lips　hard　upon　it；　her　tears　wetting　it　as　she　prayed　in　sheer　joy。　　It　was　just　sixteen　months；　one　week；　three　days；　and　nine　hours　since　she　had　watched；　through　a　mist　of　tears；　the　train　carrying　him　away　to　join　the　Macmillan　outfit　at　Portage　la　Prairie。　　Through　Jack　French's　letters　to　his　sister　she　had　been　kept　in　close　touch　with　her　brother；　but　this　was　his　first　letter　to　herself。

How　she　laughed　and　wept　at　the　rude　construction　and　the　quaint　spelling；　for　the　letter　was　written　in　her　native　tongue。


〃My　sister；　my　Irma；　my　beloved；〃　the　letter　ran。　　Irma　kissed　the　words　as　she　read　them。　　〃How　shall　I　ever　write　this　letter；　for　it　must　be　in　our　own　beloved　tongue？　　I　could　have　written　long　ago　in　English；　but　with　you　I　must　write　as　I　speak；　only　in　our　dear　mother's　and　father's　tongue。　　It　is　so　hard　to　remember　it；　for　everything　and　every　one　about　me　is　English；　English；　English。　The　hounds；　the　horses；　the　cattle　call　in　English；　the　very　wind　sounds　English；　and　I　am　beginning　not　only　to　speak；　but　to　think　and　feel　in　English；　except　when　I　think　of　you　and　of　our　dear　mother　and　father；　and　when　I　speak　with　old　Portnoff；　an　old　Russian　nihilist；　in　the　colony　near　here；　and　when　I　hear　him　tell　of　the　bad　old　days；　then　I　feel　and　breathe　Russian　again。　　But　Russia　and　all　that　old　Portnoff　talks　about　is　far　away　and　seems　like　a　dream　of　a　year　ago。　　It　is　old　Portnoff　who　taught　me　how　to　write　in　Russian。

〃I　like　this　place；　and　oh！　I　like　Jack；　that　is；　Mr。　French；　my　master。　　He　told　me　to　call　him　Jack。　　He　is　so　big　and　strong；　so　kind　too；　never　loses　his　temper；　that　is；　never　loses　hold　of　himself　like　me；　but　even　when　he　is　angry；　speaks　quietly　and　always　smiles。　　One　day　Elluck；　the　Galician　man　that　works　here　sometimes；　struck　Blucher　with　a　heavy　stick　and　made　him　howl。　Jack　heard　him。　　'Bring　me　that　stick；　Elluck；'　he　said　quietly。　'Now；　Elluck；　who　strikes　my　dog；　strikes　me。'　　He　caught　him　by　the　collar　and　beat　him　until　Elluck　howled　louder　than　the　dog；　and　all　the　while　Jack　never　stopped　smiling。　　He　is　teaching　me　to　box；　as　he　says　that　no　gentleman　ever　uses　a　knife　or　a　club；　as　the　Galicians　do；　in　fighting；　and　you　know　that　when　they　get　beer　they　are　sure　to　fight；　and　if　they　use　a　knife　they　will　kill　some　one；　and　then　they　are　sorry。

〃You　know　about　my　school。　　Jack　has　told　Mrs。　French。　　I　like　Mr。　Brown；　well；　next　to　Jack。　　He　is　a　good　man。　　I　wish　I　could　just　tell　you　how　good　and　how　clever　he　is。　　He　makes　people　to　work　for　him　in　a　wonderful　way。　　He　got　the　Galicians　to　build　his　house　for　him；　and　his　school　and　his　store。　　He　got　Jack　to　help　him　too。　　He　got　me　to　help　with　the　singing　in　the　school　every　day；　and　in　the　afternoon　on　Sundays　when　we　go　down　to　meeting。　He　is　a　Protestant；　but；　although　he　can　marry　the　people　and　baptise　and　say　prayers　when　they　desire　it；　I　do　not　think　he　is　a　priest；　for　he　will　take　no　money　for　what　he　does。　　Some　of　the　Galicians　say　he　will　make　them　all　pay　some　day；　but　Jack　just　laughs　at　this　and　says　they　are　a　suspicious　lot　of　fools。　　Mr。　Brown　is　going　to　build　a　mill　to　grind　flour　and　meal。　　He　brought　the　stones　from　an　old　Hudson's　Bay　Company　mill　up　the　river；　and　he　is　fixing　up　an　old　engine　from　a　sawmill　in　the　hills。　　I　think　he　wants　to　keep　the　people　from　going　to　the　Crossing；　where　they　get　beer　and　whiskey　and　get　drunk。　　He　is　teaching　me　everything　that　they　learn　in　the　English　schools；　and　he　gives　me　books　to　read。　　One　book　he　gave　me；　I　read　all　night。　　I　could　not　stop。　It　is　called　'Ivanhoe。'　　It　is　a　splendid　book。　　Perhaps　Mrs。　French　may　get　it　for　you。　　But　I　like　it　best　on　Sunday　afternoons；　for　then　we　sing；　Brown　and　Jack　and　the　Galician　children；　and　then　Brown　reads　the　Bible　and　prays。　　It　is　not　like　church　at　all。　There　is　no　crucifix；　no　candles；　no　pictures。　　It　is　too　much　like　every　day　to　be　like　church；　but　Brown　says　that　is　the　best　kind；　a　religion　for　every　day；　and　Jack；　too；　says　that　Brown　is　right；　but　he　won't　talk　much　about　it。

〃I　am　going　to　be　a　rancher。　　Jack　says　I　am　a　good　cattle　man　already。　　He　gave　me　a　pony　and　saddle　and　a　couple　of　heifers　for　myself；　that　I　saved　last　winter　out　of　a　snow…drift；　and　he　says　that　when　I　grow　a　little　bigger；　he　will　take　me　for　his　partner。　Of　course；　he　smiles　when　he　says　this；　but　I　think　he　means　it。　Would　not　that　be　splendid？　　I　do　not　care　to　be　a　partner；　but　just　to　live　with　Jack　always。　　He　makes　every　one　do　what　he　likes　because　they　love　him　and　they　are　afraid　of　him　too。　　Old　Mackenzie　would　let　him　walk　over　his　body。　　There　is　only　one　thing；　and　I　don't　like　to　speak　of　it；　and　I　would　not　to　any　one　else；　but　it　makes　me　sore　in　my　heart。　　When　Jack　and　Old　Mackenzie　go　to　the　Crossing；　they　bring　back　whiskey；　and　until　it　is　done　they　have　a　terrible　time。　　You　know；　I　don't　mind　seeing　the　Galicians　drink　whiskey　and　beer。　　I　drink　it　myself　now　and　then。　　But　Jack　and　old　Mackenzie　just　sit　down　and　drink　and　drink；　and　afterwards　I　know　Jack　feels　very　bad。　　Once　we　went　here　to　a　Galician　wedding；　and　you　know　what　that　means。　　They　all　got　drinking　whiskey　and　beer；　and　then　we　had　a　terrible　time。　The　whole　roomful　got　fighting。　　They　were　all　against　Jack　and　Mackenzie。　　The　Galicians　had　clubs　and　knives；　but　Jack　just　had　his　hands。　　It　was　fine　to　see　him　stand　up　and　knock　those　Galicians　back；　and　smiling　all　the　time。　　Mackenzie　had　a　hand…　spike。　　Of　course；　I　helped　a　little　with　a　club。　　I　thought　they　were　going　to　kill　Jack。　　We　got　away　alive；　but　Jack　was　badly　hurt；　and　for　a　week　afterwards　he　did　not　look　at　me。　　Mackenzie　said　he　was　ashamed；　but　I　don't　know　why。　　He　made　a　big　fight。　Mackenzie　says　he　did　not　like　to　fight　with　'them　dogs。'　　Brown　heard　all　about　it　and　came　to　see　Jack；　and　he　too　looked　ashamed　and　sorry。　　But　Brown　never　fights；　no　matter　what　they　do　to　him；　he　won't　fight；　and　he　is　a　strong　man；　too；　and　does　not　look　afraid。

〃Have　you　heard　any　word　at　all　of　father？　　I　sometimes　get　so　lonely　for　him　and　you。　　I　used　to　dream　I　was　back　with　you　again；　and　then　I　would　wake　up　and　find　myself　alone　and　far　away。　　It　will　not　be　so　long　now　till　I'm　a　man；　and　then　you　will　come　and　live　with　me。　　Oh！　I　cannot　write　fast　enough　to　put　down　the　words　to　say　how　glad　I　am　to　think　of　that。　　But　some　day　that　will　be。

〃I　send　my　love　to　Simon　Ketzel　and　Lena　and　Margaret；　and　you　tell　Mrs。　French　I　do　not　forget　that　I　owe　all　I　have　here　to　her。　Tell　her　I　wish　I　could　do　something　for　her。　　Nothing　would　be　too　hard。

〃I　kiss　this　paper　for　you；　my　dear　sister；　my　beloved　Irma。

〃Your　loving　and　faithful　brother；

〃KALMAN。〃


Proud　of　her　brother；　Irma　read　parts　of　her　letter　to　her　friend；　leaving　out；　with　a　quick　sense　of　what　was　fitting；　every　unhappy　reference　to　Jack　French；　but　the　little　lady　was　keen　of　ear　and　quick　of　instinct　where　Jack　French　was　concerned；　and　Irma's　pauses　left　a　deepening　shadow　upon　her　face。　　When　the　letter　was　done；　she　said：　　〃Is　it　not　good　to　hear　of　Kalman　doing　so　well？　Tell　him　he　can　do　something　for　me。　　He　can　grow　up　a　good　man；　and　he　can　help　Jack　to　be〃　　But　here　her　loyal　soul　held　her　back。　　〃No；　don't　say　that；〃　she　said；　〃just　tell　him　I　am　glad　to　know　he　is　going　to　be　a　good　man。　　There　is　nothing　I　want　more　for　those　I　love　than　that。　　Tell　him　too；〃　she　added；　〃that　I　would　like　him　and　Jack　to　help　Mr。　Brown　all　they　can；〃　and　this　message　Irma　wrote　to　Kalman　with　religious　care；　telling　him　too　how　sad　the　dear　sweet　face　had　grown　in　sending　the　message。

But　when　Mrs。　French　reached　her　home；　she　read　again　parts　out　of　the　letter　which　the　same　mail　had　brought　her　from　the　Night　Hawk　Ranch；　read　them　in　the　light　of　Kalman's　letter；　while　the　shadows　deepened　on　her　face。

〃He　is　a　strange　little　beggar；〃　she　read；　〃though；　by　Jove；　he　is　little　no　longer。　　He　is　somewhere　about　sixteen；　is　away　past　my　shoulder；　and