He seemed a quiet
inoffensive old man, and after all the islanders had had a good long
slow stare at him he was left in peace, with his little curling smoke
by day and his little twinkling light by night, although no one
thought of assisting him; there is a strange coldness of heart in
these northern latitudes.
'I was then living at the Chenaux; there was a German priest on the
island; I sent over two half-breeds every ten days for the mail, and
through them I heard of the stranger at the Agency. He was French,
they said, and it was rumored in the saloons along the frozen docks
that he had seen Paris. This warmed my heart; for, madame, I spent my
youth in Paris,--the dear, the beautiful city! So I came over to the
island in my dog-sledge; a little thing is an event in our long, long
winter. I reached the village in the afternoon twilight, and made my
way alone to the Agency; the old man no longer barred his gate, and
swinging it open with difficulty, I followed the trail through the
snowy silent garden round to the side of this wing,--the wing you
occupy. I knocked; he opened; I greeted him and entered. He had tried
to furnish his little room with the broken relics of the deserted
dwelling; a mended chair, a stool, a propped-up table, a shelf with
two or three battered tin dishes, and some straw in one corner
comprised the whole equipment, but the floor was clean, the old dishes
polished, and the blankets neatly spread over the straw which formed
the bed.
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