There is no ritual to bind them;
they need none; an Indian's word was his law in those days, you
know."
Mrs. Stuart stepped backwards. "Ah!" was all she said. Logan removed
his eye-glass and stared blankly at Christie. "And did McDonald
marry you in this singular fashion?" He questioned.
"Oh, no, we were married by Father O'Leary. Why do you ask?"
"Because if he had, I'd have blown his brain out to-morrow."
Mrs. Stuart's partner, who had hitherto been silent, coughed and
began to twirl his cuff stud nervously, but nobody took any notice
of him. Christie had risen, slowly, ominously--risen, with the
dignity and pride of an empress.
"Captain Logan," she said, "what do you dare to say to me? What do
you dare to mean? Do you presume to think it would not have been
lawful for Charlie to marry me according to my people's rites? Do
you for one instant dare to question that my parents were not as
legally--"
"Don't, dear, don't," interrupted Mrs. Stuart hurriedly; "it is bad
enough now, goodness knows; don't make--" Then she broke off blindly.
Christie's eyes glared at the mumbling woman, at her uneasy partner,
at the horrified captain. Then they rested on the McDonald brothers,
who stood within earshot, Joe's face scarlet, her husband's white as
ashes, with something in his eyes she had never seen before.
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