`` Yes , '' she answered firmly . `` No , Tom , do n't object -- I must go . Get my horse -- and your own . '' Ten minutes later three riders galloped down the bluff road and took the river trail . Fortunately the wind was at their backs and the worst of the storm was over . Still , it was a wild , black ride enough . Tom rode , cursing softly under his breath . He did not like the whole thing -- Carey done to death in some low half-breed shack , this handsome , sullen girl coming as his messenger , this nightmare ride , through wind and rain . It all savored too much of melodrama , even for the Northland , where people still did things in a primitive way . He heartily wished Elinor had never left Avonlea . It was past twelve when they reached the Flats . Tannis was the only one who seemed to be able to think coherently . It was she who told Tom where to take the horses and then led Elinor to the room where Carey was dying . The doctor was sitting by the bedside and Mrs. Joe was curled up in a corner , sniffling to herself . Tannis took her by the shoulder and turned her , none too gently , out of the room . The doctor , understanding , left at once . As Tannis shut the door she saw Elinor sink on her knees by the bed , and Carey 's trembling hand go out to her head . Tannis sat down on the floor outside of the door and wrapped herself up in a shawl Marie Esquint had dropped . In that attitude she looked exactly like a squaw , and all comers and goers , even old Auguste , who was hunting for her , thought she was one , and left her undisturbed . She watched there until dawn came whitely up over the prairies and Jerome Carey died .
She knew when it happened XXXXX Elinor 's cry .
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