WHAT THE FIELD-GLASSES REVEALED
Captain Barton sat on the top of a ridge near the descending ravine,
scanning the huge stretch of scenery before him with his excellent
field-glasses. He had been smoking, but the cigarette had gone out
though it was still between his lips. He had arrived at the foot of
the mountains at dawn as arranged, and had at once commenced the steep
climb, leaving breakfast baskets halfway up the track, for he expected
Rees to turn up with Iris shortly, and, as it was not so steep at that
part and there was plenty of wood, it would be a more comfortable place
to light a fire and have a meal. In spite of his hatred of Rees he
felt an unaccountable trust in the man, which made him expect that the
driver would prove equal even to this dire emergency. Ralph was not
aware of this trust, but it existed all the same and revealed itself in
his decision to leave the substantial refreshment baskets on the lower
slopes.
He had been on the top of the mountains for some time, looking
expectantly around him, when suddenly through his binoculars he
discovered two figures approaching the place of descent. They had
evidently not the slightest idea that they were being observed, for the
man had his arm round the girl, and after walking a short distance
they stood still, and came so close together that the exasperated
watcher dropped his glasses with an oath.
The chauffeur, sitting a little distance away, looked up in amazement,
for of course he had not seen the offending figures.
So this was how matters stood between them, thought the infuriated
Ralph; this was how they had spent the long dark hours his stupidity
had given them! He swore again and with such vehemence that his
companion looked aghast. “My word,” he commented to himself, “thought I
was a decent hand at the language myself, but this English toff beats
me hollow!”
However, his perturbed master did not give him any more time for
reflection, but ordered him to go down, light the fire immediately and
get breakfast ready. The man started at once, while Captain Barton went
to meet the others.
* * * * *
Breakfast might have been a rather distressing meal, but for the fact
that Iris and Justin were so saturated with the deep joy the hours
together had brought them, that nothing, not even Ralph’s sullen gloom,
could mar their stupendous happiness. He had not seemed overjoyed at
seeing Iris again, and he had certainly not expressed any enthusiastic
gratitude to her rescuer.
When they arrived at the foot of the mountain Captain Barton ignored
Rees entirely and did not even offer him a seat in the car.
“Are you sure the horse is all right, so that you can ride him?” asked
Iris. “You had better make certain before we go, and come with us
if there is anything wrong.” She glanced at her lover with that new
softness in her eyes that their time together had brought there.
He assured her the horse was all right; then, as the car began to move,
their glances met in a lingering good-bye.
Ralph sat glum and cold all the way home; he spoke only at rare
intervals, and then in the iciest tones. But Iris was glad to be able
to lean back in the luxurious car, close her eyes and rest in her newly
found bliss.
* * * * *
It was half-past eleven when they reached the township. Both Mrs.
Henderson and Miss Smith were watching anxiously for the car, and Iris
was more carried than led into the house, and bombarded with questions.
The girl had to give a lengthy account of her experiences, in which
of course she carefully left out embarrassing details. But she dwelt
with pride and undisguised exultation on the splendid way Rees had
rescued her. She pictured to them the darkness, the vastness, the awful
solitude amongst the lofty peaks and terrible chasms, and how good it
was to be found at last.
“I am so thankful Mr. Rees discovered you fairly early last night,”
said Mrs. Henderson, when she had Iris to herself in the girl’s room;
“he really is a treasure! I nearly went mad thinking of you all alone
up there in the cold and dark, and it was only the thought that
somehow he would be sure to find you which kept me sane! He really
is marvellous, he never fails one--I felt sure he would find you.
But, Iris,” she continued, her kind brown eyes brimming with fond
banter, “you really are an awful fraud. I was tossing and turning all
night--couldn’t get a wink of sleep, worrying over you and expecting
you home to-day tired, exhausted and faint; but, instead of returning a
complete wreck, you come back like a radiant young Diana--all my pity
and sympathy have really been wasted! By the way, did you get any sleep
at all? How did you pass all those dreadful hours?”
“Well, to begin with, we had an excellent supper, and then we talked
and talked, and finally we both had a good sleep.”
“But you must have been dreadfully cold?”
“No, I wasn’t cold; we were in a cosy little cave, you know; and Mr.
Rees insisted on sharing his bluey with me. But now, dear,” she said,
rising and once more kissing her cousin, “I really must go and have a
bath and dress; it will soon be lunch-time and I am starving.”
Mrs. Henderson sat for some time looking fixedly at the door through
which the girl had disappeared.
“Iris doesn’t look like that for nothing,” she said to herself. “The
first part of the experience was dreadful, no doubt, but the other--she
looks happier than I have ever seen her. I believe that bluey is
responsible for a good deal! Dear me! If I did not _know_ Iris I should
be scandalised. It’s obviously a really pure, genuine case--that’s what
it is! I’m sure he is an honourable man, of good breeding; and I’d
wager a winning horse to a pair of gloves that his blood is as blue as
hers.”
When she and Iris came down to the dining-room they found a stranger
standing by their table with Ralph.
Captain Barton introduced the new-comer, and asked if he might join
them at luncheon.
Mr. Stanwell was a middle-aged, well-preserved man, who had known Ralph
three years ago in India, and had now unexpectedly come across him on
the verandah while he was waiting for the gong to sound.
“Mr. Stanwell lives in one of the neighbouring townships and is a
bank-manager there,” explained Ralph, as they took their seats at the
small table.
Captain Barton was a little more talkative now, and the visitor proved
a pleasant and interesting companion.
Ralph had already told him of Miss Dearn’s unfortunate experience on
the mountains, but he had not thought it necessary to add that it
was Rees who found her, and Mr. Stanwell had somehow received the
impression that Ralph himself had been the brave rescuer.
When the exciting episode had been thoroughly discussed, and other
general topics had been touched on, the bank-manager said after a short
pause--
“I have come down to-day on business, and while I am here I am going
to have a talk to Miss Smith on a matter I am afraid will rather pain
her.” He glanced carefully round the room as if afraid some one might
overhear his remarks, but the proprietress had just gone to the kitchen
with some orders and there were no other guests present, so he went
on: “I want to speak to her about her driver--always thought him such
a fine fellow, but the other night he was at our township and I saw
him myself, absolutely incapable through liquor--even to kissing the
barmaid, and----”
When he first began to mention her lover Iris had been looking out of
the window in gentle abstraction and she had not realised that he was
speaking of Justin till he had uttered that last awful sentence. Then
the radiance suddenly faded from her face and an awful pallor crept
over it, robbing even her lips of their scarlet beauty.
The effect on Ralph was equally striking, though it was of an entirely
different nature. A vivid animation had come to his face, his eyes
glistened and his hands moved in excited eagerness as he waited for
the bank-manager to finish his remarks, and perhaps make even more
gratifying revelations. Fate had at last been kind to him and with one
stroke for ever spoilt his opponent’s chances. So the driver _was_ a
posing humbug, pretending to be a hero before the people there and
going away to indulge in low debauches and vulgar intrigues. Ralph had
kissed girls himself, even since he had fallen in love with Iris’s
picture, but then he was not drunk when he did it, and the environment
had been entirely different. Of course now both Iris and her cousin
would drop the driver immediately, and not have anything more to do
with him.
Mrs. Henderson had at first been too utterly astonished to think of
anything but the ghastly news she had just heard; now she looked round
at her companions and noticed the change in them.
Mr. Stanwell had been looking at his plate while speaking, and was
utterly unconscious of the effect his words had produced. He was going
to finish his sentence when Miss Dearn suddenly interrupted him.
“Mr. Stanwell,” she began, looking at him with fine dignity, “before
you go any farther I think it is only fair to tell you that Mr. Rees
is a friend of ours--a _great_ friend. We have been here quite a long
time, and got to know him well, and he is the finest man I have ever
met. I owe him a huge debt of gratitude, for it was he who saved my
life last night. As for that unfortunate--accident at your township, he
told me all about it directly he came back. He is deeply ashamed of it,
and I am sure such a thing will never happen again! So I don’t think it
necessary to mention the incident to Miss Smith or any one else.”
She was still white to the lips, but her clear eyes gazed with grand,
dauntless courage at the man opposite to her, now leaning back in his
chair very much disconcerted and ill at ease.
“I am awfully sorry, Miss Dearn; most awfully sorry,” he began
apologetically; “hadn’t the least idea he was a friend of
yours--wouldn’t have mentioned it for the world had I known! As you
say, Mr. Rees is a splendid fellow, a man respected and liked by all;
in fact, the people in the district simply worship him!”
During this conversation Ralph had turned livid, then red with rage;
so, after all, this intervening stroke of fate would prove useless to
advance his interests. Iris had known all the time, and yet--his face
grew a darker red as he thought of the figures the field-glasses had
revealed to him that morning.
“I don’t agree with Miss Dearn that it is unnecessary to warn Miss
Smith,” he said, with a wrathful gleam in his blue eyes. “She certainly
ought to know the kind of man she is employing.”
“I think she is quite aware what a treasure she has in him--we all know
and trust him accordingly,” said Iris, with freezing hauteur.
Miss Smith had just returned to the dining-room, and the little party
lapsed into silence. Miss Dearn was the first to break the awkward
pause, entirely changing the subject by asking the bank-manager
what places he had visited in India, so keeping the conversation on
impersonal topics till the end of the meal.
Iris stood at the sitting-room window and watched Mr. Stanwell drive
away early in the afternoon. When he had said good-bye he apologised
once more, and assured her he would never repeat the incident about the
driver to any one again. Now she heard Ralph’s quick step along the
corridor; he had turned the handle of the door, and the next moment he
was in the room. She nerved herself for the inevitable interview.
“Iris,” he said, standing a little distance away from her and regarding
her from under sullen half-closed lids, “what are you going to do about
it?”
“What do you expect me to do?” she asked, without turning to him, her
cool fingers playing carelessly with the cream tassel of the blind.
“It is your plain duty to give him up, of course; it is a disgrace to
be friendly with a man like that; you owe it to your mother and your
friends to drop him immediately.”
“And what do I owe him?” she replied, turning inquiring, steady eyes
upon him.
“Owe him indeed! What could you owe such a fellow?” exclaimed Ralph
indignantly.
“I owe him more than I owe any one else in the world; I owe him--my
life.”
“That is all nonsense----”
“Now look here, Ralph; I know what you are going to say and I want to
spare you the trouble of saying it, because--it will be useless.”
“You mean you won’t give him up?”
“I most certainly do.” She met his angry gaze unflinchingly.
“Iris, you are on the brink of ruin and disgrace.”
“I will gladly face what you call ruin and disgrace for the man
I--love,” she replied, with a sweep of her regal head.
“But, Iris, you surely could not _love_ such a creature, who drinks and
spoons with----”
She winced a little, then said with great decision: “I shall never love
any one else.”
“But, Iris, you don’t mean to say that you are so infatuated that you
will go to the length of--marrying him?” he asked incredulously, taking
a step towards her.
“I will go to any length--any extreme that honour and love can carry
me.”
“Iris!” There was exasperation in the word. She did not speak, so
he continued: “But, Iris, I will not allow you to marry him; I will
prevent it. You shall not ruin your beautiful young life over a
contemptible drunkard!” He made an excited gesture with his hands.
“Ralph, be careful what you say. I will not allow you or any one else
to insult Mr. Rees in my presence.”
Her companion was completely losing his temper. “He is only a shameless
blackguard playing the hero before you and going away to booze and make
love to the lowest----”
“Ralph, I will not listen to you,” she said, with steely, flashing eyes.
“That is because you know I am speaking the truth,” he sneered.
“It is because the friend you are trying to blacken is the best, the
noblest, man I have ever met,” she replied, with fine pride.
Captain Barton laughed an ugly laugh. “The best, the noblest, man you
have ever met--good heavens, Iris! Do you call a fooling drunkard,
kissing barmaids----”
The blue fire in her eyes silenced his unfinished gibe.
“Let us part friends, Ralph,” she said, making an effort to speak
calmly. “I will try to believe you meant well, but we must part now.”
“Do you mean to say that you--want me to--leave?” he asked, turning
livid again.
“After insulting my best friend you surely cannot do less. But I am
willing to forgive you before you go.”
“Forgive me!” he mocked, turning to her fiercely. “Do you think I want
your forgiveness? I’ll clear out at once, but mark my words: you shall
never be allowed to marry that infernal drunkard--I will see to that!
I will----”
She measured him with a cold, haughty glance. “Ralph,” she began
evenly, “you had better not try to injure him, because if it comes to
that I believe _you_ would suffer most.”
He laughed scornfully. “You need not be afraid. I shall not do anything
like that, gentlemen do not lay hands on--grooms.”
With this parting shot he strode to the door, and as he touched the
handle he turned round and looked at her with a spiteful gleam in his
infuriated eyes as he said: “I may as well tell you before I go that
I saw you this morning through my field-glasses, and you were--in his
arms----”
He banged the door and was gone.
Ralph walked downstairs rapidly and told his chauffeur to get his
things together and be ready to start for Launceston in an hour’s time.
Then he went to the post office and sent a wire to Betty, after which
he returned to his room and rammed his clothes into the neat leather
suit-cases with savage haste.
When he left her, Iris went to her own rooms. She suddenly felt tired,
and sank limply down on the bed. It had been a strenuous day, holding
some very unpleasant hours. A shiver passed through her as she thought
of what had taken place at lunch. If only she had not given way to
that alluring abstraction she would have been able to prevent a full
disclosure of poor Justin’s unfortunate experience; she would have
given a great deal to have stopped the bank-manager blurting out the
bald facts in that merciless way, before her cousin and Ralph. However,
she had prevented him from telling Miss Smith and any one else. She was
glad Justin was so long in reaching the township and that Ralph was
leaving immediately; he would not be pleasant to encounter just then,
and, if he should come across her lover in his present mood, he would
certainly make use of the information he had obtained and be odious
and insulting. If only Ralph would start before Justin came back, so
that he would be saved the horrible humiliation of his rival’s taunts!
Ralph had been blustering and objectionable to her and had threatened
to prevent her marriage with Rees. But how could he do this? She was
not easily frightened. The worst he could do was to go home and give
her mother an exaggerated account of what had taken place. She could
imagine the highly coloured story he would concoct. Her mother would be
horrified and send her frantic cables, perhaps come out and by force
try to separate her from her lover. But she would be true to Justin at
all costs; nothing should prevent that.
Her reflections were interrupted as Amy entered the room.
Iris suddenly decided to take her cousin into her full confidence. Mrs.
Henderson had heard about Justin’s failing, and the revelation had been
an awful shock to her. Now Iris decided to explain the extenuating
circumstances; so, drawing her cousin down beside her, with her head
resting on the firm, massive shoulders, she told her what Justin had
confessed to her the night in the garden. She brought out how bravely
he had resisted temptation for years, and that it was the misery of
seeing her daily with Ralph which had driven him away from his place
of shelter, and that in his excited and despairing condition he was an
easy prey to his old craving.
When the girl had finished, her cousin’s eyes were moist and her voice
trembled a little as she said: “Poor, dear fellow, what a cross for him
to bear--no wonder he has looked so sad at times! And he has struggled
so bravely all these years; it was just cruel for Ralph to come and
drive him into danger and temptation!” She wiped her eyes quickly.
“And Ralph actually asked me to give him up----”
“What did you say, dear?”
“I told him the honest truth, of course--that I loved Justin and would
be true to him whatever happened.”
“And do you really mean to marry him?”
Mrs. Henderson felt a deep sigh pass through Iris’s slender form as she
said in very low tones: “He will not marry me.”
Her cousin turned to her in horror. “Good gracious, Iris, you don’t
mean to say that you’ve asked him?”
“Yes,” replied the girl, with grave candour, “I am afraid I have.”
Amy shook her head as she said in a troubled voice: “I always knew you
would get it badly when you fell in love.”
“Do you think I have behaved _very_ shockingly?”
“Your mother would think so; what a lovely story Ralph will tell her!”
But Iris was gazing in abstracted seriousness into space, as the buzz
of the departing car floated up to them from the road.
* * * * *
It was five o’clock that afternoon when Justin turned the corner which
brought the township into view, and he saw the dark red car with
luggage strapped on the back whirl away in a cloud of dust toward the
junction. He was not altogether surprised. Captain Barton had shown a
smouldering anger that morning which he felt sure would soon burst into
flames. Rees was sorry there had evidently been an open rupture; all
the same, he breathed a sigh of intense relief.