AN AFTERNOON ASHORE
Half the day had slipped by. The breeze freshened further and the sun
broke through. The sloop was then rolling wildly as she drove along with
the peak of her mainsail lowered down before a big following sea. The
combers came up behind her, foaming and glistening blue and green, with
seamy white streaks on their hollow breasts, and broke about her with a
roar. Then they surged ahead while she sank down into the hollow with
sluicing deck and tilted stern. Vane's face was intent as he gripped the
helm; three or four miles away a head ran out from the beach he was
following, and he would have to haul the boat up to windward to get
around it. This would bring the combers upon her quarter, or, worse
still, abeam. Kitty Blake was below; and Mrs. Marvin had made no
appearance yet. Vane looked at Carroll, who was standing in the well.
"The sea's breaking more sharply, and we'd get uncommonly wet before we
hammered round yonder head. There's an inlet on this side of it where we
ought to find good shelter."
"The trouble is that if you stay there long you'll be too late for the
directors' meeting. Besides, I'm under the impression that I've seen you
run an open sea-canoe before as hard a breeze as this."
"They can't have the meeting without me, and if it's necessary they can
wait," Vane answered impatiently. "I've had to. Many an hour I've spent
cooling my heels in corridors and outer offices before the head of the
concern could find time to attend to me. No doubt it was part of the
game, done to impress me with a due sense of my unimportance."
"It's possible," Carroll laughed.
"Besides, you can drive one of those big Siwash craft as hard as you can
this sloop; that is, so long as you keep the sea astern of her."
"Yes; I dare say you can. After all, you hadn't any passengers on
the occasion I was referring to. I suppose you feel you have to
consider them?"
Vane colored slightly.
"Naturally, I'd prefer not to land Mrs. Marvin and the child in a
helpless condition; and I understand they're feeling the motion
pretty badly."
Kitty Blake made her appearance in the cabin entrance, and Vane
smiled at her.
"We're going to give you a rest," he announced. "There's an inlet close
ahead where we should find smooth water, and we'll put you all ashore for
a few hours until the wind drops."
There was no suspicion in the girl's face now. She gave him a grateful
glance before she disappeared below with the consoling news.
A quarter of an hour later Vane closed with the beach, and a break in the
hillside, which was dotted with wind-stunted pines, opened up. While the
two men struggled with the mainsheet, the big boom and the sail above it
lurched madly over. The sloop rolled down until half her deck on one side
was in the sea, but she hove herself up again and shot forward, wet and
gleaming, into a space of smooth green water behind a head. Soon
afterward, Vane luffed into a tiny bay, where she rode upright in the
sunshine, with loose canvas flapping softly in a faint breeze while the
cable rattled down. They got the canoe over, and when they had helped
Mrs. Marvin and her little girl, both of whom looked very wobegone and
the worse for the voyage, into her, Vane glanced around.
"Isn't Miss Blake coming?" he asked.
"She's changing her dress," explained Mrs. Marvin, with a smile. She
glanced at her own crumpled attire as she added: "I'm past thinking of
such things as that!"
They waited some minutes, and then Kitty appeared in the entrance to the
cabin. Vane called to her.
"Won't you look in the locker, and bring along anything you think would
be nice? We'll make a fire and have supper on the beach--if it isn't
first-rate, you'll be responsible!"
A few minutes later they paddled ashore, and Vane landed them on a
strip of shingle. Beyond it a wall of rock arose, with dark firs
clinging in the rifts and crannies. The sunshine streamed into the
hollow; the wind was cut off; and not far away a crystal stream came
splashing down a ravine.
"There's a creek at the top of the inlet," Vane told them, as he and
Carroll thrust out the canoe, "and we're going to look for a trout. You
can stroll about or rest in the sun for a couple of hours, and if the
wind drops after supper we'll make a start again."
They paddled away, with a fishing-rod and a gun in the canoe, and it
was toward six o'clock in the evening when they came back with a few
trout. Vane made a fire of resinous wood, and Carroll and Kitty
prepared a bountiful supper. When it was finished, Carroll carried the
plates away to the stream; Mrs. Marvin and the little girl followed
him; and Vane and Kitty were left beside the fire. She sat on a log of
driftwood, and he lay on the warm shingle with his pipe in his hand.
The clear green water splashed and tinkled upon the pebbles close at
his feet, and a faint, elfin sighing fell from the firs above them. It
was very old music: the song of the primeval wilderness; and though he
had heard it often, it had a strange, unsettling effect on him as he
languidly watched his companion. There was no doubt that she was
pleasant to look upon; but, although he did not clearly recognize this,
it was to a large extent an impersonal interest that he took in her.
She was not so much an attractive young woman with qualities that
pleased him as a type of something that had so far not come into his
life; something which he vaguely felt that he had missed. One could
have fancied that by some deep-sunk intuition she recognized this fact,
and felt the security of it.
"So you believe you can get an engagement if you reach Vancouver in
time?" he asked at length.
"Yes."
"How long will it last?"
"I can't tell. Perhaps a week or two. It depends upon how the boys are
pleased with the show."
Vane frowned. He felt very compassionate toward her and toward all
friendless women compelled to wander here and there, as she was forced
to do. It seemed intolerable that she should depend for daily bread
upon the manner in which a crowd of rude miners and choppers received
her song; though there was, as he knew, a vein of primitive chivalry in
most of them.
"Suppose it only lasts a fortnight, what will you do then?"
"I don't know," said Kitty simply.
"It must be a hard life," Vane broke out. "You must make very
little--scarcely enough, I suppose, to carry you on from one engagement
to another. After all, weren't you as well off at the restaurant? Didn't
they treat you properly?"
She colored a little at the question.
"Oh, yes. At least, I had no fault to find with the man who kept it or
with his wife."
Vane made a hasty sign of comprehension. He supposed that the difficulty
had arisen from the conduct of one or more of the regular customers. He
felt that he would very much like to meet the man whose undesired
attentions had driven his companion from her occupation.
"Did you never try to learn keeping accounts or typewriting?" he asked.
"I tried it once. I could manage the figures, but the mill shut down."
Vane made his next suggestion casually, though he was troubled by an
inward diffidence.
"I've an idea that I could find you a post. It looks as if I'm going to
be a person of some little influence in the future, which"--he
laughed--"is a very new thing to me."
He saw a tinge of warmer color creep into the girl's cheeks. She had, as
he had already noticed a beautifully clear skin.
"No," she said decidedly; "it wouldn't do."
Vane knit his brows, though he fancied that she was right.
"Well," he replied, "I don't want to be officious--but how can I help?"
"You can't help at all."
Vane saw that she meant it, and he broke out with quick impatience:
"I've spent nine years in this country, in the hardest kind of work; but
all the while I fancied that money meant power, that if I ever got
enough of it I could do what I liked! Now I find that I can't do the
first simple thing that would please me! What a cramped, hide-bound
world it is!"
Kitty smiled in a curious manner.
"Yes; it's a very cramped world to some of us; but complaining won't do
any good," She paused with a faint sigh. "Don't spoil this evening. You
and Mr. Carroll have been very kind. It's so quiet and calm
here--though it was pleasant on board the yacht--and soon we'll have to
go to work again."
Vane once more was stirred by a sense of pity which almost drove him to
rash and impulsive speech; but her manner restrained him.
"Then you must be fond of the sea," he suggested.
"I love it! I was born beside it--where the big, green hills drop to the
head of the water and you can hear the Atlantic rumble on the rocks all
night long."
"Ah!" exclaimed Vane; "don't you long for another sight of it now
and then?"
The girl smiled in a way that troubled him.
"I'm wearying for it always; and some day, perhaps, I'll win back for
another glimpse at the old place."
"You wouldn't go to stay?"
"That would be impossible! What would I do yonder, after this other life?
Once you leave the old land, you can never quite get back again."
Vane lay smoking in silence for a minute or two. On another occasion he
had felt the thrill of the exile's longing that spoke through the girl's
song, and now he recognized the truth of what she said. One changed in
the West, acquiring a new outlook which diverged more and more from that
held by those at home. Only a wistful tenderness for the motherland
remained. Still, alien in thought and feeling as he had become, he was
going back there for a time; and she, as she had said, must resume her
work. A feeling of anger at his impotence to alter this came upon him.
Then Carroll came up with Mrs. Marvin and Elsie, and he felt strongly
stirred when the little girl walked up to him shyly with a basket filled
with shells and bright fir-cones. He drew her down beside him with an arm
about her waist while he examined her treasures. Glancing up he met
Kitty's eyes and felt his face grow hot with an emotion he failed to
analyze. The little mite was frail and delicate; life, he surmised, had
scanty pleasure to offer her; but now she was happy.
"They're so pretty, and there are such lots of them!" she exclaimed.
"Can't we stay here just a little longer and gather some more?"
"Yes," answered Vane, conscious that Carroll, who had heard the question,
was watching him. "You shall stay and get as many as you want. I'm afraid
you don't like the sloop."
"No; I don't like it when it jumps. After I woke up, it jumped all
the time."
"Never mind, little girl. The boat will keep still to-night, and I don't
think there'll be any waves to roll her about to-morrow. We'll have you
ashore the first thing in the morning."
He talked to her for a few minutes, and then strolled along the beach
with Carroll until they could look out upon the Pacific. The breeze was
falling, though the sea still ran high.
"Why did you promise that child to stay here?" Carroll asked.
"Because I felt like doing so."
"I needn't remind you that you've an appointment with Horsfield about
the smelter; and there's a meeting of the board next day. If we
started now and caught the first steamer across, you wouldn't have
much time to spare."
"That's correct. I shall have to wire from Victoria that I've been
detained."
Carroll laughed expressively.
"Do you mean to put off the meeting and keep your directors waiting, to
please a child?"
"I suppose that's one reason. Anyway, I don't propose to hustle the
little girl and her mother on board the steamer while they're helpless
with seasickness." A gleam of humor crept into his eyes. "As I think I
told you, I've no great objections to letting the gentlemen you mentioned
await my pleasure."
"But they found you the shareholders, and set the concern on its feet."
"Just so. On the other hand, they got excellent value for their
services--and I found the mine. What's more, during the preliminary
negotiations most of them treated me very casually."
"Well?"
"There's going to be a difference now. I've a board of directors--one way
or another, I've had to pay for the privilege pretty dearly; but it's not
my intention that they should run the Clermont Mine."
Carroll glanced at him with open amusement. There had been a marked
change in Vane since he had located the mine, though it was one that did
not astonish his comrade. Carroll had long suspected him of latent
capabilities, which had suddenly sprung to life.
"You ought to see Horsfield before you meet the board," he advised him.
"I'm not sure," Vane answered. "In fact, I'm uncertain whether I'll give
Horsfield the contract, even if we decide about the smelter. He was
offensively patronizing once upon a time and tried to bluff me. Besides,
he has already a stake in the concern. I don't want a man with too firm a
hold-up against me."
"But if he put his money in partly with the idea of getting certain
pickings?"
"He didn't explain his intentions; and I made no promises. He'll get his
dividends, or he can sell his stock at a premium, and that ought to
satisfy him."
"If you submitted the whole case to a business man, he'd probably tell
you that you were going to make a hash of things."
"That's your own idea?"
Carroll grinned.
"Oh, I'll reserve my opinion. It's possible you may be right. Time
will show."
They rejoined the others, and when the white mists crept lower down from
the heights above and the chill of the dew was in the air, Vane launched
the canoe.
"It's getting late and there's a long run in front of us to-morrow," he
informed his passengers. "The sloop will lie as still as if moored in a
pond; and you'll have her all to yourselves. Carroll and I are going to
camp ashore."
He paddled them off to the boat. Coming back with some blankets, he cut a
few armfuls of spruce twigs in a ravine and spread them out beside the
fire. Then sitting down just clear of the scented smoke he lighted his
pipe and asked an abrupt question.
"What do you think of Kitty Blake?"
"She's attractive, in person and manners."
"Anybody could see that at a glance!"
"Well," Carroll added cautiously, "I must confess that I've taken some
interest in the girl--partly because you were obviously doing so. In a
general way, what I noticed rather surprised me. It wasn't what I
expected."
"You smart folks are as often wrong as the rest of us. I suppose you
looked for cold-blooded assurance, tempered by what one might call
experienced coquetry?"
"Something of the kind," Carroll agreed. "As you say, I was wrong. There
are only two ways of explaining Miss Blake, and the first's the one that
would strike most people. That is, she's acting a part, possibly with an
object; holding her natural self in check, and doing it cleverly."
Vane laughed scornfully.
"I've lived in the woods for nine years, but I wouldn't have entertained
that idea for five seconds!"
"Then, there's the other explanation. It's simply that the girl's life
hasn't affected her. Somehow, she has kept fresh and wholesome. I think
that's the correct view."
"There's no doubt of it!" declared Vane.
"You offered to help her in some way?"
"I did; I don't know how you guessed it. I said I'd find her a situation.
She wouldn't hear of it."
"She was wise. Vancouver isn't a very big place yet, and the girl has
more sense than you have. What did you say?"
"I'm afraid I lost my temper because there was nothing I could do."
Carroll grinned.
"There are limitations--even to the power of the dollar. You'll probably
run up against more of them later on."
"I suppose so," yawned Vane. "Well, I'm going to sleep."
He rolled himself up in his blanket and lay down among the soft spruce
twigs, but Carroll sat still in the darkness and smoked out his pipe.
Then he glanced at his comrade, who lay still, breathing evenly.
"No doubt you'd be considered fortunate," he said, apostrophizing him
half aloud. "You've had power and responsibility thrust upon you. What
will you make of it?"
Then he, too, lay down, and only the soft splash of the tiny ripples
broke the silence while the fire sank lower.
They sailed the next morning, and when they arrived in Victoria the boat
which crossed the straits had gone, but the breeze was fair from the
westward, and, after despatching a telegram, Vane sailed again. The sloop
made a quick passage, and most of the time her passengers lounged in the
sunshine on her gently slanted deck. It was evening when they ran through
the Narrows into Vancouver's land-locked harbor and saw the roofs of the
city rise tier on tier from the water-front. Somber forest crept down to
the skirts of it, and across the glistening water black hills ran up into
the evening sky, with the blink of towering snow to the north of them.
Half an hour later Vane landed his passengers, and it was not until he
had left them that they discovered he had thrust a roll of paper currency
into the little girl's hand. Then he and Carroll set off for the C.P.R.
hotel, although they were not accustomed to a hostelry of that sort.