All of which evidenced a new side of Bela's character. She was coming on. In such a favourable atmosphere she might well develop. It seemed that she moved like a queen among her courtiers. They scrambled to do her behests.
Poor Sam, after listening to these tales, was obliged to drive past the house of entertainment eyes front, and cook his supper in solitude at Grier's Point. He could no longer count on even an occasional companion, for nowadays everybody hurried to Bela's.
The plain fact of the matter was, he suffered torments of lonesomeness. Lying in his blankets waiting for sleep, perhaps in a cold drizzle, in his mind's ear he could hear the sounds of merriment in the shack three miles away. As his heart weakened, he was obliged to batter himself harder and harder to keep up his rage against the cause of all his troubles.
One afternoon returning from around the bay earlier than usual, in a straight stretch of the road between the two trading posts, he saw her coming. No mistaking that slender, skirted figure with a carriage as proud and graceful as a blooded horse.
His heart set up a tremendous thumping. There was no way of avoiding a meeting, unless he turned tail and fled before her. That was not to be thought of. It was the first time they had come face to face since the unforgettable morning in Johnny Gagnon's shack.
Sam steeled himself, and commenced to whistle. He would show her! Exactly what he meant to show her he could not have told, but it necessitated a jaunty air and a rollicking whistle. It was his intention to hail her in a friendly off-hand way like any of the men might--provided his heart did not leap out of his breast before he reached her.
It did not. But as they passed he received the shock of his life. Whatever it was he expected from her, an angry scowl maybe, or an appealing look, or a scornfully averted head, he did not get it. She raised calm, smiling eyes to his and said provokingly:
That was what he had meant to do, but it missed fire. He found himself gaping clownishly at her. For something had leaped out of her eyes into his, something sweet and terrible and strange that threw him into a hopeless confusion.
He whipped up his horses and banged down the trail. All night he tossed in his blankets, hungry and exasperated beyond bearing. Cursing her brought him no satisfaction at all. It rang hollowly.