Elinor went out wonderingly , followed by Tom . Tannis , whip in hand , stood by the open door , with the stormy night behind her , and the warm ruby light of the hall lamp showering over her white face and the long rope of drenched hair that fell from her bare head . She looked wild enough . `` Jerome Carey was shot in a quarrel at Joe Esquint 's to-night , '' she said . `` He is dying -- he wants you -- I have come for you . '' Elinor gave a little cry , and steadied herself on Tom 's shoulder . Tom said he knew he made some exclamation of horror . He had never approved of Carey 's attentions to Elinor , but such news was enough to shock anybody . He was determined , however , that Elinor should not go out in such a night and to such a scene , and told Tannis so in no uncertain terms . `` I came through the storm , '' said Tannis , contemptuously . `` Can not she do as much for him as I can ? '' The good , old Island blood in Elinor 's veins showed to some purpose . `` 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 XXXXX a primitive way .
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