Jacqueline of Golden River | Page 9

I was positive. I was her sole
protector now, and I felt a furious resolve that no one should rob me of
her.
The ground was as hard as iron, and I was satisfied that my footsteps
had left no track; there would be snow before morning, and if my feet
had left any traces these would be covered effectively.
Four o'clock was striking while I was climbing back into the room
again. Jacqueline lay on the bed in the same position; she had not
stirred during that hour. While she slept I set about the completion of
my task.
I took the knife from the floor where I had flung it, scrubbed it, and
placed it in my suit-case. Then I scrubbed the floor clean, afterward
rubbing it with a soiled rag to make its appearance uniform.
I washed my hands, and thought I had finally removed all traces of the
affair; but, coming back, I perceived something upon the floor which
had escaped my notice. It was the leather collar of the Eskimo dog,
with its big silver studs and the maker's silver name-plate.
All this while the animal had remained perfectly quiet in the room
crouching at Jacqueline's feet and beside the bed. It had not attempted
to molest me, as I had feared might be the case during the course of my
gruesome work.
I came to the conclusion that there might have been a struggle; that it
had run to its mistress's assistance, and that the collar had been torn
from it by the dead man.

My first thought was to put the collar back upon the creature's neck; but
then I came to the conclusion that this might possibly serve as a means
of identification. And it was essential that no one should be able to
identify the dog.
So I picked the collar up and carried it into the next room and held it
under the light of the incandescent gas-mantle. The letters of the
maker's name were almost obliterated, but after a careful study I was
able to make them out. The name was Maclay & Robitaille, and the
place of manufacture Quebec. This confirmed my belief concerning
Jacqueline's nativity.
I pried the plate from the leather and slipped it into my pocket. I put the
broken collar into my suitcase, together with the dagger, and then I set
about packing my things for the journey which we were to undertake.
I had always accustomed myself to travel with a minimum of baggage,
and the suit-case, which was a roomy one, held all that I should need at
any time. When I had finished packing I went back to Jacqueline and
sat beside her while she slept. As I sat dawn I heard a city clock strike
five.
In a little while it would begin to lighten, and the advent of the day
filled me with a sort of terror.
I watched the sleeping girl. Who was she? How could she sleep calmly
after that night's deed? The mystery seemed unfathomable; the girl
alone in the city, the robbers, the dog, the dead man, and the one who
had escaped me.
Jacqueline's bag lay on the bureau and disgorging bills. There were
rolls and rolls of them--eight thousand dollars did not seem too much.
Besides these, the bag contained the usual feminine properties: a
handkerchief, sachet-bag, a pocket mirror, and some thin papers, coated
with rice-powder.
The thought crossed my mind that the bills might be counterfeit, and I

picked one up and looked carefully at it, comparing it with one from
my own pocketbook. But I was soon satisfied that they were real.
Well--I turned back to Jacqueline, ashamed of the suspicion that had
crossed my mind.
Her soft brown hair streamed over the pillow and hung down toward
the floor, a heavy mass, uncoiled from the wound braids upon her neck.
Her breast rose and fell evenly with her breathing. She looked even
younger than on the preceding evening. I was sure now that she was
innocent of evil, and my unworthy thoughts made me ashamed. Her
outstretched arm was extended beyond the edge of the bed.
I raised her hand and held in it my own, and I sat thus until the room
began to lighten, watching her all the while.
It was strange that as I sat there I began to grow comforted. I looked on
her as mine. When I had kissed her hands I had forgotten the ring upon
her finger; and now, holding that hand in mine and running my fingers
round and round the circlet of gold, I was not troubled at all. I could not
think of her as any other man's. She was mine--Jacqueline.
Presently she stirred, her eyes opened, and she sat up.