JESSY'S CONTRITION
After leaving Mrs. Nairn, Carroll walked toward Horsfield's residence
in a thoughtful mood, because he felt it incumbent upon him to play a
part he was not particularly fitted for in a somewhat delicate matter.
Uncongenial as his task was, it was one that could not be left to
Vane, who was even less to be trusted with the handling of such
affairs; and Carroll had resolved, as he would have described it, to
straighten out things.
His partner had somehow offended Evelyn, and though she was now obviously
disposed to forgive him, the recollection of his supposititious iniquity
might afterward rankle in her mind. Though Vane was innocent of any
conduct to which she could with reason take exception, it was first of
all needful to ascertain the exact nature of the charge against him.
Carroll, who for several reasons had preferred not to press this question
upon Evelyn, had a strong suspicion that Jessy Horsfield was at the
bottom of the trouble. There was also one clue to follow--Vane had paid
the rent of Celia Hartley's shack, and he wondered whether Jessy could by
any means have heard of it. If she had done so, the matter would be
simplified, for he had a profound distrust of her. A recent action of
hers was, he thought, sufficient to justify this attitude.
He found her at home, reclining gracefully in an easy-chair in her
drawing-room, and though she did not seem astonished to see him, he
fancied that her expression hinted at suppressed concern.
"I heard that you had arrived alone, and I intended to make inquiries
from Mrs. Nairn as soon as I thought she would be at liberty," she
informed him.
Carroll had found the direct attack effective in Evelyn's case, and he
determined to try it again.
"Then," he declared, "it says a good deal for your courage."
He never doubted that she possessed courage, and she displayed it now.
"So," she said calmly, "you have come as an enemy."
"Not exactly; it didn't seem worth while. Though there's no doubt you
betrayed us--Vane waited for the warning you could have sent--so far as
it concerns our ruined interests in the Clermont, the thing's done and
can't be mended. We'll let that question go. The most important point
is that if you had recalled us, as you promised, Vane would now be safe
and sound."
This shot told. The girl's face became less imperturbable; there was
eagerness and, he thought, a hint of fear in it.
"Then has any accident happened to him?"
"He's lying in the bush, helpless, in imminent peril of starvation."
"Go on!"
There were signs of strain clearly perceptible in the girl's voice.
Carroll was brief, but he made her understand the position; then she
turned upon him imperiously.
"Then why are you wasting your time here?"
"It's a reasonable question. I can't get a tug to take me back until noon
to-morrow."
"Ah!" murmured Jessy. "Excuse me for a minute."
She left him astonished. He had not expected her to take him at a
disadvantage, as she had done with her previous thrust, and now he did
not think that she had slipped away to hide her feelings. That did not
seem necessary in Jessy's case, though he believed she was more or less
disturbed. She came back presently, looking calm, and sat down again.
"My brother will be here in a quarter of an hour," she informed him.
"Things are rather slack, and he had half promised to take me for a
drive. I have just called him up."
Carroll did not see how this bore upon the subject of their conversation,
but he left her to take the lead.
"Did Mr. Vane tell you that I had promised to warn him?" she asked.
"To do him justice, he let it out before he quite realized what he was
saying. I'd better own that I partly surprised him into giving me the
information."
"The expedient seems a favorite one with you. I suppose no news of what
has happened here can have reached him?"
"None. If it's any consolation, he has still an unshaken confidence in
you," Carroll assured her with blunt bitterness.
The girl showed faint signs of confusion, but she sat silent for the
next few moments. During that time it flashed upon Carroll with
illuminating light that he had heard Celia Hartley say that Miss
Horsfield had found her orders for millinery. This confirmed his
previous suspicion that Jessy had discovered who had paid the rent of
Celia's shack, and that she had with deliberate malice informed Evelyn,
distorting her account so that it would tell against Vane. There were
breaks in the chain of reasoning which led him to this conclusion, but
he did not think that Jessy would shrink from such a course, and he
determined to try a chance shot.
"Vane's inclined to be trustful, and his rash generosity has once or
twice got him into trouble," he remarked, and went on as if an
explanation were needed: "It's Miss Hartley's case I'm thinking about
just now. I've an idea he asked you to look after her. Am I right?"
As soon as he had spoken he knew that he had hit the mark. Jessy did not
openly betray herself, but there are not many people who can remain
absolutely unmoved when unexpectedly asked a startling question. Besides,
the man was observant, and had all his faculties strung up for the
encounter. He saw one of her hands tighten on the arm of her chair and a
hint of uneasiness in her eyes, and that sufficed him.
"Yes," she replied; "I recommended her to some of my friends. I
understand that she is getting along satisfactorily."
Carroll felt compelled to admire her manner. He believed that she loved
his comrade but had nevertheless tried to ruin him in a fit of jealous
rage. She was, no doubt, now keenly regretting her success, but though he
thought she deserved to suffer, she was bravely facing the trying
situation. It was one that was rife with dramatic possibilities, and he
was grateful to her for avoiding them.
"You are going back to-morrow," she said after a brief silence. "I
suppose you will have to tell your partner--what you have discovered
here--as soon as you reach him?"
Carroll had not intended to spare her, but now he felt almost
compassionate, and he had one grain of comfort to offer.
"I must tell him that his shares in the Clermont have been sacrificed. I
wonder if that is all you meant?"
Jessy met his inquiring gaze with something very much like an appeal, and
then she spread out her hands in a manner that seemed to indicate that
she threw herself upon his mercy.
"It is not all I meant," she confessed.
"Then if it's any relief to you, I'll confine myself to telling him that
he has been deprived of his most valuable property. I dare say the news
will hit him hard enough. He may afterward discover other facts for
himself, but on the whole I shouldn't consider it likely. As I said, he's
confiding and slow to suspect."
He read genuine gratitude, which he had hardly expected, in the girl's
face; but he raised his hand and went on in the rather formal manner
which he felt was the only safe one to assume:
"I had, perhaps, better mention that I am going to call on Miss Hartley.
After that, I shall be uncommonly thankful to start back for the bush."
He paused and concluded with a sudden trace of humor: "I'll own that I
feel more at home with the work that awaits me there."
Jessy made a little gesture which, while it might have meant anything,
was somehow very expressive. Just then there were footsteps outside and
the next moment Horsfield walked into the room.
"So you're back!"
"Yes," Carroll replied shortly. "Beaten at both ends--there's no use in
hiding it."
Horsfield showed no sign of satisfaction, and Carroll afterward admitted
that the man behaved very considerately.
"Well," he declared, "though you may be astonished to hear it, I'm sorry.
Unfortunately, our interests clashed, and I naturally looked after mine.
Once upon a time I thought I could have worked hand in hand with Vane,
but our ideas did not coincide, and your partner is not the man to yield
a point or listen to advice."
Carroll was aware that Horsfield had by means which were far from
honorable deprived him of a considerable portion of his possessions. He
had also betrayed his fellow shareholders in the Clermont Mine, selling
their interests, doubtless for a tempting consideration, to the
directors of another company. For all that, Carroll recognized that
since he and Vane were beaten, as he had confessed, recriminations and
reproaches would be useless as well as undignified. He preferred to face
defeat calmly.
"It's the fortunes of war," he returned. "What you say about Vane is
more or less correct; but, although it is not a matter of much
importance now, it was impossible from the beginning that your views
and his ever should agree."
Horsfield smiled.
"Too great a difference of temperament? I dare say you're right. Vane
measures things by a different standard--mine's perhaps more adapted to
the market-place. But where have you left him?"
"In the bush. Miss Horsfield will, no doubt, give you particulars; I've
just told her the tale."
"She called me up at the office and asked me to come across at once. Will
you excuse us for a few minutes?"
They went out together, and Jessy presently came back alone and looked at
Carroll in a diffident manner.
"I suppose," she began, "one could hardly expect you to think of either
of us very leniently; but I must ask you to believe that I am sincerely
distressed to hear of your partner's accident. It was a thing I could
never have anticipated; but there are amends I can make. Every minute you
can save is precious, isn't it?"
"It is."
"Then I can get you a tug. My brother tells me the _Atlin_ is coming
across from Victoria and should be here early this evening. He has gone
back to the office to secure her for you, though she was fixed to go off
for a lumber boom."
"Thank you," responded Carroll. "It's a very great service. She's a
powerful boat."
Jessy hesitated.
"I think my brother would like to say a few words when he comes back. Can
I offer you some tea?"
"I think not," answered Carroll, smiling. "For one thing, if I sit still
much longer, I shall, no doubt, go to sleep again, as I did at Nairn's;
and that would be neither seemly nor convenient, if I'm to sail this
evening. Besides, now that we've arranged an armistice, it might be wiser
not to put too much strain on it."
"An armistice?"
"I think that describes it." Carroll's manner grew significant. "The word
implies a cessation of hostilities--on certain terms."
Jessy could take a hint, and his meaning was clear. Unless she forced him
to do so, he would not betray her to his comrade, who might never
discover the part she had played; but he had given her a warning, which
might be bluntly rendered as "Hands off." There was only one course open
to her--to respect it. She had brought down the man she loved, but it was
clear that he was not for her, and now that the unreasoning fury which
had driven her to strike had passed, she was troubled with contrition.
There was nothing left except to retire from the field, and it was better
to do so gracefully. For all that, there were signs of strain in her
expression as she capitulated.
"Well," she said, "I have given you proof that you have nothing to fear
from me. My brother is the only man in Vancouver who could have got you
that tug for this evening; I understand that the sawmill people are very
much in need of the lumber she was engaged to tow."
She held out her hand and Carroll took it, though he had not expected to
part from her on friendly terms.
"I owe you a good deal for that," he smiled.
His task, however, was only half completed when he left the house, and
the remaining portion was the more difficult, but he meant to finish it.
He preferred to take life lightly; he had trifled with it before disaster
had driven him out into the wilds; but there was resolution in the man,
and he could force himself to play an unpleasant part when it was
needful. Fortune also favored him, as she often does those who follow the
boldest course.
He had entered a busy street when he met Kitty and Celia. The latter
looked thin and somewhat pale, but she was moving briskly, and her face
was eager when she shook hands with him.
"We have been anxious about you," she declared; "there was no news. Is
Mr. Vane with you? How have you got on?"
"We found the spruce," answered Carroll. "It's not worth milling--a
forest fire has wiped out most of it--but we struck some shingling cedar
we may make something of."
"Where's Mr. Vane?"
"In the bush. I've a good deal to tell you about him; but we can't talk
here. I wonder if we could find a quiet place in a restaurant, or if the
park would be better."
"The park," said Kitty decidedly.
They reached it in due time, and Carroll, who had refused to say anything
about Vane on the way, found the girls a seat in a grove of giant firs
and sat down opposite to them. Though it was winter, the day, as is often
the case near Vancouver, was pleasantly mild.
"Now," he began, "my partner is a singularly unfortunate person. In the
first place, the transfer of the Clermont property, which you have no
doubt heard of, means a serious loss to him, though he is not ruined yet.
He talks of putting up a shingling mill, in which Drayton will be of
service, and if things turn out satisfactorily you will be given an
interest in it."
He added the last sentence as an experiment, and was satisfied with
the result.
"Never mind our interests," cried Kitty. "What about Mr. Vane?"
For the third time since his arrival, Carroll made the strongest appeal
he could to womanly pity, drawing, with a purpose, a vivid picture of his
comrade's peril and suffering. Nor was he disappointed, for he saw
consternation, compassion and sympathy in the girls' faces. So far, the
thing had been easy, but now he hesitated, and it was with difficulty
that he nerved himself for what must follow.
"He has been beaten out of his stock in the mine; he's broken down in
health and in danger; but, by comparison, that doesn't count for very
much with him. He has another trouble; and though I'm afraid I'm going
out of the way in mentioning it, if it could be got over, it would help
him to face the future and set him on his feet again."
Then he briefly recounted the story of Vane's regard for Evelyn, making
the most of his sacrifice in withdrawing from the field, and again he
realized that he had acted wisely. A love affair appealed to his
listeners, and there was a romance in this one that heightened the
effect of it.
"But Miss Chisholm can't mean to turn from him now," interrupted Celia.
Carroll looked at her meaningly.
"No; she turned from him before he sailed. She heard something
about him."
His companions appeared astonished.
"She couldn't have heard anything that anybody could mind," Kitty
exclaimed indignantly. "He's not that kind of man."
"It's a compliment," returned Carroll. "I think he deserves it. At the
same time, he's a little rash, and now and then a man's generosity is
open to misconception. In this case, I don't think one could altogether
blame Miss Chisholm."
Kitty glanced at him sharply and then at Celia, who looked at first
puzzled and then startled. Then the blood surged into Kitty's cheeks.
"Oh!" she gasped, as if she were breathless, "I was once afraid of
something like this. You mean we're the cause of it?"
The course he followed was hateful to Carroll, but the tangle could not
be straightened without having somebody's feelings hurt, and it was his
comrade about whom he was most concerned.
"I believe that you understand the situation," he said quietly.
He saw the fire in Kitty's eyes and noticed that Celia's face also was
flushed, but he did not think their anger was directed against him.
They knew the world they lived in, and, for that matter, he could share
their indignation. He resented the fact that a little thing should
bring swift suspicion upon them. He was, however, not required to face
any disconcerting climax. Indeed, it struck him as curious that a
difficult situation in which strong emotion was stirred up could become
so tamely prosaic merely because it was resolutely handled in a
matter-of-fact manner.
"Well," inquired Celia, "why did you tell us this?"
"I think you both owe Vane something, and you can do him a great favor
just now."
Kitty looked up at him.
"Don't ask me too much, Mr. Carroll. I'm Irish, and I feel like killing
somebody."
"It's natural," responded Carroll with a sympathetic smile. "I've now and
then felt much the same way; it's probably unavoidable in a world like
this. However, I think you ought to call on Miss Chisholm, after I've
gone, though you'd better not mention that I sent you. You can say you
came for news of Vane--and add anything that you consider necessary."
The girls looked at each other, and at length, though it obviously cost
her a struggle, Kitty said decidedly:
"We will have to go."
Then she faced round toward Carroll.
"If Miss Chisholm won't believe us, she'll be sorry we came!"
Carroll made her a slight inclination.
"She'll deserve it, if she's not convinced. But it might be better if you
didn't approach her in the mood you're in just now."
Kitty rose, motioning to Celia, and Carroll turned back with them toward
the city, feeling a certain constraint in their company and yet conscious
of a strong relief. It had grown dark when he returned to Nairn's house.
"Where have ye been?" his host inquired. "I had a clerk seeking ye all
round the city. I canna get ye a boat before the morn."
Carroll saw that Mrs. Nairn shared her husband's desire to learn how he
had been occupied. Evelyn also was in the room, and she waited
expectantly for his answer.
"There were one or two little matters that required attention and I
managed to arrange them satisfactorily," he explained. "Among other
things, I've got a tug, and I expect to sail in an hour or two. Miss
Horsfield found me the vessel."
He noticed Evelyn's interest, and was rather pleased to see it. If she
were disposed to be jealous of Jessy it could do no harm. Nairn,
however, frowned.
"I'm thinking it might have been better if ye had no troubled Jessy," he
commented.
"I'm sorry I can't agree with you," Carroll retorted. "The difference
between this evening and noon to-morrow is a big consideration."
"Weel," replied Nairn resignedly; "I can no deny the thing, if ye look at
it like that."
Carroll changed the subject; but some time later Mrs. Nairn sat down near
him in the temporary absence of her husband and Evelyn.
"We will no be disturbed for two or three minutes," she said. "Ye
answered Alic like a Scotsman before supper and put him off the track,
though that's no so easy done."
Carroll grinned. He enjoyed an encounter with Mrs. Nairn, though she was,
as a rule, more than a match for him.
"You're too complimentary," he declared. "The genuine Caledonian caution
can't be acquired by outsiders; it's a gift."
"I'll no practise it now," returned the lady. "Ye're no so proud of
yourself for nothing. What have ye been after?"
Carroll crossed his finger-tips and looked at her over them.
"Since you ask the question, I may say this--If Miss Chisholm has two
lady visitors during the next few days, you might make sure that she
sees them."
"What are their names?"
"Miss Celia Hartley, the daughter of the prospector who sent Vane off to
look for the timber, and Miss Kitty Blake, who, as you have probably
heard, once came down the west coast with him, in company with an elder
lady and myself."
Mrs. Nairn started, then she looked thoughtful, and finally she broke
into a smile of open appreciation.
"Now," she ejaculated, "I understand. I did no think it of ye. Ye're no
far from a genius!"
"Thanks. I believe I succeeded better than I could have expected, and
perhaps than I deserved."
They were interrupted then by Nairn, who came hastily into the room.
"There's one of the _Atlin_ deck-hands below," he announced. "He's come
on here from Horsfield's to say that the boat's ready with a full head of
steam up, and the packers ye hired are waiting on the wharf."
Carroll rose and became in a moment intent and eager.
"Tell him I'll be down almost as soon as he is. You'll have to excuse
me." Two minutes later he left the house, and fervent good wishes
followed him from the party on the stoop. He did not stop to acknowledge
them, but shortly afterward the blast of a whistle came ringing across
the roofs from beside the water-front.