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will。'
At this point Mrs。 Mavor； whom I had quite forgotten； put her hand
on my arm。 'Go and tell him；' she panted； 'I want them to come on
Thursday night； as they used to in the other daysgoquick；' and
she almost pushed me out。 I gave Craig her message。 He held up
his hand for silence。
'Mrs。 Mavor wishes me to say that she will be glad to see you all；
as in the old days； on Thursday evening； and I can think of no
better place to give formal expression to our pledge of this night'
There was a shout of acceptance； and then； at some one's call； the
long pent…up feelings of the crowd found vent in three mighty
cheers for Mrs。 Mavor。
'Now for our old hymn；' called out Mr。 Craig； 'and Mrs。 Mavor will
lead us。'
He sat down at the organ； played a few bars of 'The Sweet By and
By；' and then Mrs。 Mavor began。 But not a soul joined till the
refrain was reached； and then they sang as only men with their
hearts on fire can sing。 But after the last refrain Mr。 Craig made
a sign to Mrs。 Mavor； and she sang alone； slowly and softly； and
with eyes looking far away
'In the sweet by and by；
We shall meet on that beautiful shore。'
There was no benedictionthere seemed no need； and the men went
quietly out。 But over and over again the voice kept singing in my
ears and in my heart； 'We shall meet on that beautiful shore。' And
after the sleigh…loads of men had gone and left the street empty；
as I stood with Craig in the radiant moonlight that made the great
mountains about come near us； from Sandy's sleigh we heard in the
distance Baptiste's French…English song； but the song that floated
down with the sound of the bells from the miners' sleigh was
'We shall meet on that beautiful shore。'
'Poor old Shaw！' said Craig softly。
When the last sound had died away I turned to him and said
'You have won your fight。'
'We have won our fight； I was beaten；' he replied quickly； offering
me his hand。 Then； taking off his cap； and looking up beyond the
mountain…tops and the silent stars； he added softly； 'Our fight；
but His victory。'
And； thinking it all over； I could not say but perhaps he was
right。
CHAPTER IV
MRS。 MAVOR'S STORY
The days that followed the Black Rock Christmas were anxious days
and weary； but not for the brightest of my life would I change them
now； for； as after the burning heat or rocking storm the dying day
lies beautiful in the tender glow of the evening； so these days
have lost their weariness and lie bathed in a misty glory。 The
years that bring us many ills； and that pass so stormfully over us；
bear away with them the ugliness； the weariness； the pain that are
theirs； but the beauty； the sweetness； the rest they leave untouched；
for these are eternal。 As the mountains； that near at hand stand
jagged and scarred； in the far distance repose in their soft robes
of purple haze； so the rough present fades into the past； soft and
sweet and beautiful。
I have set myself to recall the pain and anxiety of those days and
nights when we waited in fear for the turn of the fever； but I can
only think of the patience and gentleness and courage of her who
stood beside me； bearing more than half my burden。 And while I can
see the face of Leslie Graeme； ghastly or flushed； and hear his low
moaning or the broken words of his delirium； I think chiefly of the
bright face bending over him； and of the cool； firm； swift…moving
hands that soothed and smoothed and rested； and the voice； like the
soft song of a bird in the twilight； that never failed to bring
peace。
Mrs。 Mavor and I were much together during those days。 I made my
home in Mr。 Craig's shack； but most of my time was spent beside my
friend。 We did not see much of Craig； for he was heart…deep with
the miners； laying plans for the making of the League the following
Thursday； and though he shared our anxiety and was ever ready to
relieve us； his thought and his talk had mostly to do with the
League。
Mrs。 Mavor's evenings were given to the miners； but her afternoons
mostly to Graeme and to me； and then it was I saw another side of
her character。 We would sit in her little dining…room； where the
pictures on the walls； the quaint old silver； and bits of curiously
cut glass； all spoke of other and different days； and thence we
would roam the world of literature and art。 Keenly sensitive to
all the good and beautiful in these； she had her favourites among
the masters； for whom she was ready to do battle； and when her
argument； instinct with fancy and vivid imagination； failed； she
swept away all opposing opinion with the swift rush of her
enthusiasm； so that； though I felt she was beaten； I was left
without words to reply。 Shakespeare and Tennyson and Burns she
loved； but not Shelley； nor Byron； nor even Wordsworth。 Browning
she knew not； and therefore could not rank him with her noblest
three； but when I read to her 'A Death in the Desert；' and； came to
the noble words at the end of the tale
'For all was as I say； and now the man
Lies as he once lay； breast to breast with God；'
the light shone in her eyes； and she said； 'Oh； that is good and
great； I shall get much out of him； I had always feared he was
impossible。' And 'Paracelsus；' too； stirred her； but when I
recited the thrilling fragment； 'Prospice；' on to that closing
rapturous cry
'Then a light； then thy breast；
O thou soul of my soul！ I shall clasp thee again；
And with God be the rest！'
the red colour faded from her cheek； her breath came in a sob； and
she rose quickly and passed out without a word。 Ever after；
Browning was among her gods。 But when we talked of music； she；
adoring Wagner； soared upon the wings of the mighty Tannhauser； far
above； into regions unknown； leaving me to walk soberly with
Beethoven and Mendelssohn。 Yet with all our free； frank talk；
there was all the while that in her gentle courtesy which kept me
from venturing into any chamber of her life whose door she did not
set freely open to me。 So I vexed myself about her； and when Mr。
Craig returned the next week from the Landing where he had been for
some days； my first question was
'Who is Mrs。 Mavor？ And how in the name of all that is wonderful
and unlikely does she come to be here？ And why does she stay？'
He would not answer then； whether it was that his mind was full of
the coming struggle； or whether he shrank from the tale； I know
not； but that night； when we sat together beside his fire； he told
me the story； while I smoked。 He was worn with his long； hard
drive； and with the burden of his work； but as he went on with his
tale； looking into the fire as he told it； he forgot all his
present weariness and lived again the scenes he painted for me。
This was his story：
'I remember well my first sight of her； as she sprang from the
front seat of the stage to the ground； hardly touching her
husband's hand。 She looked a mere girl。 Let's seefive years
agoshe couldn't have been a day over twenty three。 She looked
barely twenty。 Her swift glance swept over the group of miners at
the hotel door； and then rested on the mountains standing in all
their autumn glory。
'I was proud of our mountains that evening。 Turning to her
husband； she exclaimed： 〃O Lewis； are they not grand？ and lovely；
too？〃 Every miner lost his heart then and there； but all waited
for Abe the driver to give his verdict before venturing an opinion。
Abe said nothing until he had taken a preliminary drink； and then；
calling all hands to fill up； he lifted his glass high； and said
solemnly
'〃Boys； here's to her。〃
'Like a flash every glass was emptied； and Abe called out； 〃Fill
her up again； boys！ My treat！〃
'He was evidently quite worked up。 Then he began； with solemn
emphasis
'〃Boys； you hear me！ She's a No。 1； triple X； the pure quill with
a bead on it： she's a；〃 and for the first time in his Black Rock
history Abe was stuck for a word。 Some one suggested 〃angel。〃
'〃Angel！〃 repeated Abe； with infinite contempt。 〃Angel be blowed；〃
（I paraphrase here）； 〃angels ain't in the same month with her； I'd
like to see any blanked angel swin