The Stranger Proves a Friend in Need
"Just in time!" exclaimed Miles with a sob of relief. He would
have been most horribly ashamed of tears at any other time, but
Katherine's danger had been so imminent that even his natural
desire for manliness was forgotten for the moment.
Katherine drew a long breath and set her teeth firmly. She was
trembling violently now the strain was over, and it was all she
could do to keep from bursting into noisy crying. But the stranger
was shivering too, and in her care for him she forgot her own
foolish desire for tears.
"You are as wet as I am, and as cold. Can you row?" she asked,
remembering the strength of arm he had displayed in dragging her
out of the water.
"Yes, and shall be glad to do it. You will be safer rowing too,"
he answered, then motioned to Miles to give place.
"I'll steer; then we can go ahead," said the boy jerkily. He had
not got over his fright yet, and was trembling almost as badly as
the others.
Slipping into their places, Katherine and the stranger took the
oars. Miles edged them out of the crowding ice dangers, and,
keeping well to the bank, they began their progress up river.
"Mrs. Jenkin is beckoning. Will you go across?" asked Miles.
"No," Katherine answered with prompt decision. "The force of the
current is fearful, and we have faced enough risks for one day.
Besides, it is of no use; we want dry garments. Mrs. Jenkin has
barely enough clothes for herself, so I am certain she could not
supply my needs; and no garments of Stee's would be big enough for
this--this gentleman."
"My name is Jervis Ferrars," put in the stranger, seeing her
embarrassment and hastening to relieve it.
"Thank you!" murmured Katherine, a flush coming into her cheeks
which made her charming despite her bedraggled condition. Then she
went on: "I think it will be better for you to come with us right
up to Roaring Water Portage, because then we can lend you some of
Father's clothes: he is tall, and they will about fit you, I should
think; and it is so very difficult to get what one wants at Seal
Cove."
"That I have already proved. But it was very kind of you to come
and rescue me. I owe my life to you," the stranger said, with a
sudden thrill of feeling in his voice.
Katherine flushed more brightly than before. "We thought it was
Oily Dave whom we were trying to save," she said, with a faint
ripple of laughter. "And Miles said he wasn't worth it, only of
course we had to do the best we could. Are you the Englishman who
came through from Maxokama two days ago?"
"Yes," he answered. "And it was the four hundred miles on
snowshoes that made my feet so bad, though I am rather proud of
having done it."
"I am sure you have a right to be proud of such a feat," Katherine
answered; and then they did not say much more, for the work was
getting harder every minute, and she wondered what would have
happened if there had been only Miles and herself to manage the
boat, for certainly the arms of Jervis Ferrars had a strength which
Miles did not possess, yet in spite of this it was as much as they
could do to make headway against the streaming current.
The danger came when they had to creep past the fishing boats, some
of which were anchored so close in to the banks that they had to
get out in the open river to pass them. Katherine had left off
shivering, but she was trembling still from excitement and
exhaustion; moreover, she was miserably self-conscious, because of
the stranger who was sitting behind. It was horrible to be wet,
dirty, and thoroughly bedraggled, but it was still more horrible to
be compelled to sit in such a condition right under the eyes of a
strange man, whose every tone and gesture proclaimed him a
gentleman. But they were very nearly at the end of the journey.
The roar of the rapids was in their ears, and Katherine was
thinking with a sigh of relief that she would soon be able to rest
her aching arms.
Suddenly Miles leant forward and spoke. "I'm afraid there is
something wrong at home. Phil has just dashed out of the store
door, looking as white as chalk. He beckoned to us to hurry, and
now he has rushed back again."
"Father! Perhaps he is not so well," exclaimed Katherine, with a
quick terror gripping at her heart. Then she thought with a swift
compunction of the stranger they were bringing home, and wondered
if her father would resent the intrusion.
But Phil had run out again just as the boat grounded against the
bank, and now he began shouting: "Oh, do come quick; Father is
dreadfully ill, and Nellie does not know what to do with him."
"You go first; the boy will help me," said Jervis Ferrars, hurrying
Katherine out of the boat.
She landed with a bound and tried to run, but her water-logged
garments clung so closely about her that she could only walk, and
the few steps to the door seemed like a mile.
"Nellie says it is a stroke, and she is afraid Father is dying,"
sobbed Phil, who was running to and fro in a distracted fashion.
A faint cry broke from Katherine, and she caught at the doorpost to
save herself. Yet even in that moment she realized that this was
only what she had been expecting every time that she had returned
from an absence all the winter through. But to-day found her so
shaken and unfit for strain that it was not wonderful she broke
down, feeling that this last disaster was too great to be borne. A
moment she clung there sick and faint, while the ground under her
feet seemed to rise up like the waves of the sea; then the
frightened wailing of Beth and Lotta reached her ears, and steadied
her nerves to meet the demands upon her.
"Poor mites, how frightened they must be!" she murmured to herself,
then stumbled forward again, crossing the store and entering the
kitchen.
'Duke Radford lay on the floor. Doubtless he had fallen so, and
Mrs. Burton had been unable to lift him; but there was a pillow
under his head and a rug laid over him. He was breathing still,
otherwise Katherine would have believed him already dead.
"Oh, Nellie, this is dreadful! Whatever shall we do?" she cried,
her voice sharp with pain.
"If only we could get a doctor I wouldn't mind so much," sobbed
Mrs. Burton. "But that is an impossibility."
"I am afraid it is," Katherine answered, lightly touching her
father's face with her finger, and wondering if he were as
unconscious as he looked.
Then she felt herself gently thrust to one side, and the voice of
Jervis Ferrars said quietly: "Go and get into dry clothes as
quickly as you can, Miss Radford. You can do your Father no
immediate good, but you may easily catch pneumonia if you stop in
this condition long. I am not really a doctor, but I have had a
medical training, and I can do all that can be done in this case."
"Oh, how thankful we are to have you here!" said Mrs. Burton, who
felt as if the wet unknown, who was shedding pools of dirty water
on to her clean floor, was an angel sent straight from heaven to
help her in her time of need.
But Katherine said nothing at all; she only stumbled to her feet in
blind haste and hurried away, knowing that collapse into
undignified babyish crying was inevitable, and anxious to get away
to some place where she might be hidden from the eyes of the
others. In that crowded little house there was not much chance of
privacy, however, and when Katherine entered the bedroom, to change
her wet garments and cry in peace, she was immediately set upon by
the twins, who had been shut in there by their mother to be out of
the way. The poor mites were so frightened and unhappy that
Katherine had to put aside her own miseries in order to comfort
them. Then by the time she was clad in dry garments she felt
better and braver, so she went back to the other room with the
tears unshed.
'Duke Radford still lay on the floor in blank unconsciousness,
while Mrs. Burton was busy mopping up the dirty water which had run
from the wet garments of the others.
"Mr. Ferrars has gone to get into dry clothes, and then he will see
about putting poor Father to bed," Mrs. Burton explained. Then she
burst into agitated thanksgiving: "Oh, Katherine, how fortunate
that you brought him home with you, and how wonderful it is that
there is always someone to help when most it is needed! Whatever
should we have done to-day if we had had no one but the fisher
people to help us?"
Katherine was silent, and before the eyes of her mind there arose
the picture of that moment before the two big fragments of ice
collided, the moment which enabled Jervis Ferrars and herself to
get into the boat. But for that pause in the destruction of the
ice island it was more than probable that neither she nor the
stranger would have been there at all. Of this she said nothing.
Nellie had quite enough to bear without being frightened by
tragedies which had not happened.
"I am afraid we brought you in a fearful lot of water," Katherine
said.
"It will soon be wiped up, and the floor none the worse. That poor
Mr. Ferrars had no boots or stockings on; his feet were merely
swathed in towels. I have sent Miles with warm water to help him
put them comfortable; and now there is someone in the store. Dear,
can you go? I don't know where Phil is."
"I will go. But what about Father?" Katherine asked, lingering.
"You can do nothing for him, and he is as comfortable as it is
possible to make him at present," Mrs. Burton replied. Then
Katherine hurried away, for business must be attended to whatever
disasters menaced the family peace and happiness.
The customer was a man from one of the fishing boats, which was
preparing to leave the river directly the barrier of ice at the
mouth gave way. He wanted more stores than could be immediately
supplied, and promised to come back for them later.
"I saw you'd got the Englishman in your boat when you came up
river; I thought he looked pretty sick," remarked the fisher, who
was a Yankee from Long Island Sound.
"His feet are bad, which is not wonderful when one remembers his
journey from Maxokama," Katherine answered, wishing that the man
would go, so that she might go back to her father.
But this he seemed in no hurry to do, and with a cautious look
round to make sure no one was within earshot, he leaned over the
counter and asked in a confidential tone: "Can you keep a secret,
Miss?"
"I think so, but I am not very fond of them," she answered, drawing
back with a repressive air, for the man's manner was more familiar
than she cared for.
"Well, it's this then; the Englishman is likely to go on getting
sicker still if he keeps lodging at Oily Dave's hotel. Do you twig
my meaning?"
"No, certainly not," Katherine answered; then a shiver crept over
her, because of the sinister interpretation which might be put to
the words.
"I don't want to be hauled up in a libel case," said the Yankee.
"Are there any witnesses within hearing?"
"No, not if you keep your voice down," she answered, dropping her
own, and feeling that here was something she ought to know, however
unpleasant or burdensome the knowledge might prove.
"Well, they are saying that the new fleet-owner, Mr. Selincourt,
ain't satisfied with things going on as they used to do, and so he
has sent this young man up to spy round a bit, report the catch,
keep expenses down, and that sort of thing. Oily Dave has always
reckoned to make a good picking out of the fishing, you know, and
it ain't likely he'd approve of being spied upon."
"Why have you told me this?" demanded Katherine. Her eyes were
dilated with fear, and there was a sickening apprehension in her
heart. In that wild place, so far from law and order, a dozen
dreadful things might happen, and the world would be none the wiser.
The Yankee laughed and stuffed a plug of tobacco into his left
cheek. Then he replied: "They all say on the river that you are a
powerful smart girl, and can do most things you set your mind to.
Possession is nine points of the law, you know. You have got the
Englishman here; keep him somehow--unless you want him to leave
Oily Dave's hotel feet foremost, that is."
Katherine gasped, and the words she would have uttered stuck fast
in her throat. A man's life had been thrust into her keeping, and
she must guard it as best she might.
"I wish you would tell----" she began falteringly, then a door
creaked at the far end of the store, and the Yankee straightened
himself with great promptitude, ready for instant departure.
"Well, good morning, Miss! Beautiful thaw, ain't it now? I should
think the mouth of the river must go bust before to-morrow;" and
with a flourish of his very seedy old hat the citizen of the United
States walked out of the store. He did not often lift his hat to
anyone; for, believing that all men were equal, such observance
struck him as servile. But Katherine had a way with her that
compelled respect; moreover, she was a downright gritty girl, as he
expressed it: so the hat-flourish was really a tribute to her
strength of character.
As he went out of the door, Jervis Ferrars came hobbling out from
the bedroom leaning on Miles. Dressed in 'Duke Radford's working
clothes, he looked like an ordinary working man, except for that
indefinable air of culture which clung to him.
"I am going to see to your father now, Miss Radford. Miles and I
have got the bed ready, and the sooner we get the poor man
undressed and comfortable, the better it will be for him."
"Thank you!" said Katherine, then shivered again as she recalled
the Yankee's words about keeping the stranger from the power of
Oily Dave.
Jervis Ferrars looked at her keenly, noting the shiver and the
trouble in her eyes; then he said abruptly: "What is the matter?
Do you feel ill, or is it something fresh?"
For a moment Katherine hesitated, but he would have to be told, she
knew, so she said hastily: "It is something that--that you must
know. I will tell you presently when I get a chance."
"Very well," he replied briefly, then hobbled on into the kitchen,
and for the next hour was occupied in doing his utmost for the sick
man.
Katherine was left a moment alone with Mrs. Burton, after 'Duke
Radford had been carried to his bed, and she said hastily: "Nellie,
would you mind if Mr. Ferrars stayed here for a few days until his
feet are better? We are crowded, I know; but either he or the boys
could sleep in the loft now it is warmer, and Oily Dave's house is
impossible until the flood is down."
"I should say it is impossible at any time," replied Mrs. Burton,
"and I shall be only too thankful if he will stay for a while
because of poor father. Oh, Katherine, I am afraid this long
terrible winter has killed him," she said, with a quiver of
breakdown in her voice.
"It is not the winter. Why, he has scarcely been out at all, so he
cannot have suffered from that," Katherine answered sadly. She
knew only too well why her father had broken down again, only the
worst of it was she could not tell anyone, but must hide the
knowledge within her own heart, because it involved her father's
honour.
"I have seen him failing for so long, only yesterday and to-day he
seemed better," Mrs. Burton went on; "and he was sitting quite
comfortably by the stove, not talking very much, but looking
thoroughly contented, when he suddenly pitched out of his chair and
lay like a log on the floor."
"Will you ask Mr. Ferrars to stay with us, or shall I?" said
Katherine.
"I will if you like. I will put it so that he shall think he is
doing us a favour, then he will be more comfortable about
accepting; and really, as things are, I don't see where else there
is for him to go."
"Nor I," replied Katherine, and was thankful to leave the matter in
her sister's hands for the present.