AN AMERICAN EXPLORING SQUADRON 179
ordered curls she gave a shriek, the terrible death-wail that has rung for ages in the tents of the dead. The Indians waiting outside caught it up, till it rolled in one long reverberation over the plains of Walla Walla. It reached the home of Mrs. Whitman before her husband did, and she knew the good Chief Factor Pambrun had gone to rest.
They buried him there in the drifting sand. Ogden's brigade came by and Rogers accompanied the mourning family down to Fort Vancouver, whither they had been summoned by Dr. McLoughlin.
"I cannot marry him," sobbed Maria Pambrun, hiding her face on the shoulder of Eloise. Dr. McLoughlin looked on in compassion. The face of Cornelius Rogers was paler than Maria's, set as marble.
"I will not ask it," said Rogers. He heard the din in the court as the doomed man hears the hammer of the executioner. "I will not take advantage of her helpless situation. Let the will be void. I return the property, but the watch I would like to keep as a memento of my dead friend."
His own voice sounded far away and dead. Maria ceased her sobs and breathless waited she only heard a departing step and the shutting of a door. When she looked up Rogers was gone. Dr. McLoughlin stood there, looking at the closed door. The arm of Eloise was still about her waist, and the sun through the grapevine cast checkered shadows on the Chinese matting.
"That is an honorable man," said Dr. McLoughlin, picking up the torn fragments of the will at his feet. " He is worthy of an excellent wife. But remember, Maria, you and your mother and the younger children can have a home here as long as you live. I adopt you all."
