AGATHA MAKES A PROMISE
Next morning Thirlwell wrote to his employers, stating that he meant to
take another week's holiday, and smiled as he reflected that the letter
would arrive too late for them to refuse. The hotel was comfortable, he
had met one or two interesting people, and was told the fishing was
good; besides, he thought he would not be badly needed at the mine just
then. For all that, he was not quite persuaded that these were
sufficient reasons for neglecting his work, and when he went through the
hall with the letter in his hand he put it into his pocket instead of
the box. He would think over the matter again before the mail went out.
Then as he crossed the veranda Agatha came up from the beach and gave
him a smile.
"You are out early," Thirlwell remarked.
"I like the morning freshness and have been on the lake."
"It looks as if you had hurt yourself," said Thirlwell, noting a small
wet handkerchief twisted round her hand.
Agatha laughed. "Not seriously; I blistered my fingers trying to paddle.
I have been practising since I came, but it is difficult to keep the
canoe straight when you are alone."
"That's so," Thirlwell agreed. "The back-feathering stroke is hard to
learn."
"For all that, I mean to learn it before I go."
"Perhaps I could teach it you. How long have you got?"
"A fortnight," she said, moving on, and when she left him Thirlwell went
to the mail-box and dropped in his letter.
Afterwards he felt annoyed that he had done so, and wondered whether he
had weakly given way to a romantic impulse, but next morning he went
down to the beach and found the girl launching a canoe. Making her sit
near the middle, he knelt in the stern and drove the canoe across the
shining water with vigorous strokes. Agatha wore a white jersey and had
left her hat, and he noted the color the cool wind brought to her face
and how the light sparkled on her hair.
By and by they skirted a rocky island where resinous smells drifted
across the water and the reflections of tall pines wavered round the
canoe, until he ran the craft on a shingle point and they changed
places. Agatha took the single-bladed paddle and although her hands were
sore made some progress while he instructed her. After a time she
stopped and let the canoe drift in the hot sunshine.
"I think you'd soon make a good _voyageur_," Thirlwell remarked. "For
one thing, you're determined; I saw you wince once or twice and imagine
the paddle-haft hurt."
"I must learn to use the pole yet, and mean to try it in the river by
and by. You must pole, I think, when you go up a fast stream?"
"That is so, when you can't use the tracking line. But I don't see why
you are anxious to learn."
"I have an object," Agatha answered with a smile.
"Then why don't you practise canoeing at Toronto?"
"The trouble is that I haven't time. You see, I teach all day."
"But you have holidays and the evenings."
"My evenings are occupied by study."
"I don't know if it's wise to over-work yourself for the advantage of
your pupils," Thirlwell remarked. "At one time, I was very keen about my
profession, but soon found it a mistake to tire my brain for my
employer's benefit. But what do you study?"
"Science; chemistry and geology, but not in order to teach the girls."
"Well, I suppose knowledge is worth getting for its own sake. Anyhow, I
thought so, but you learn when you undertake rude mining that the main
thing is to be able to make a practical use of what you know. In fact,
that's often better than knowing much."
"Perhaps so," Agatha agreed. "Some day I hope to make a good use of what
I have learned."
"About canoeing, or geology?"
"About both," said Agatha. "Now, however, I think we'll make for the
landing. Breakfast will be ready soon."
Thirlwell saw no more of her during the day, but she came down to the
beach in the evening and he gave her another lesson. As they paddled
home he thought she looked tired, and asked: "Where have you been since
morning?"
Agatha indicated a ridge of high ground with a few pines on its summit
that rose indistinctly at some distance across the shadowy forest.
"I took my lunch with me and went up there."
"But it must be a two or three hours' walk. Is there a trail?"
"A loggers' trail. It's partly grown up and broke off altogether when I
got near the rocks. After that I had a rough scramble, but I like the
woods and try to walk as much as possible in my holidays."
"Well, no doubt, walking is good for one. But don't the girls in Toronto
prefer the street cars?"
"I don't go long walks for health's sake," Agatha answered with a smile.
"But I think some people I know are waiting. Can you paddle faster?"
The canoe's bows lifted out of a wisp of foam as Thirlwell swung the
paddle, and in a few minutes he helped the girl to land. After this,
their acquaintance ripened fast and Agatha went fishing with him on the
lake and, by disused logging trails, long distances into the shadowy
bush. Thirlwell imagined she knew this excited some remark, but he saw
there was an imperious vein in the girl, who did what she thought fit,
without heeding conventions. Besides, no touch of sentiment marked their
friendship; she accepted him as a comrade who could teach her something
about lake and forest, and he was satisfied with this.
Yet he was puzzled. It was strange that an attractive girl should wish
to learn something of the bush-man's skill, but she obviously meant to
do so. Although it often cost her an effort to follow him, she would not
let him turn back when they came to an angry rapid or a belt of tangled
woods. She certainly had charm besides having pluck, because when she
did not go fishing young women as well as young men gathered round her
on the shady lawn. It was hard to imagine why a girl like this should
practise walking long distances and combine the study of canoeing with
geology.
The fortnight slipped by and on the last evening Thirlwell took Agatha
out upon the lake. They were later than usual and as they stole across
the glassy water the pines on a western headland cut black and sharp
against an orange glow. To the east a faint track of silver ran back
into the blue distance under the moon. It was very quiet except for the
splash of the paddle and ripple at the bows, but somewhere in the
shadows a loon was calling. By and by the lights of the hotel faded and
they were alone in the dusk.
Thirlwell put down the paddle and lighted a cigarette. He had drawn
nearer the girl in the last week; a curious feeling of confidence and
liking united them, but he was not her lover and knew that if he drifted
into philandering she would be repelled. Perhaps this was unusual, but
she was different from other girls. Thirlwell could not tell how she
differed, but he was satisfied that she did and let the matter go.
"You start for the mine to-morrow, don't you?" she asked presently.
"Yes," he said; "it's my last evening on the lake. There's something
melancholy about the end of a holiday, but I don't think I have felt it
as much before."
Agatha gave him a calm glance and saw he had not meant her to read a
sentimental meaning in his admission. It was unconscious flattery and
she was pleased.
"I can understand. One values the days of liberty when they are gone!
But do you feel daunted by the thought of the work and hardship that
waits you in the North?"
"Not in a way. Now and then you shrink from the arctic winter, but in
summer, in spite of the mosquitoes, the bush gets hold of you. Sometimes
you hate the solitude; but when you leave it you long to return."
"Ah," said Agatha, "I have not seen the wilderness, but next summer I
hope to make an exploring trip."
"But where?"
"To the Shadow River and on into the Territories," she answered quietly.
Thirlwell looked hard at her, and she smiled. "Yes; if things go well
with me, I mean to look for the silver ore."
"Now I begin to understand! This is why you wanted to learn to manage a
canoe and train yourself to walking through the bush. But it's a
ridiculous undertaking. Your father, who found it, could not locate the
ore again."
"I may be luckier. Luck counts for something when you go prospecting,
doesn't it?"
"Success in prospecting is often due to luck," Thirlwell admitted. "But
it's a very rough country where no food can be got. You will need
canoes, tools, and tents, and two or three good packers to carry the
outfit across the divides. This would be expensive. Then I doubt if you
are strong enough to bear the strain; I imagine very few women could do
so without breaking down."
"You have seen how I have tried to harden myself, but I have made other
preparations. It's some time since I resolved to go, and every month I
put by a little money. By next summer I ought to have enough."
"I wonder whether you found it easy to save."
"I did not," said Agatha, smiling. "Sometimes it was very hard; I should
not have taken this holiday only that I wanted to get used to the lakes
and woods. I am grateful for all you have taught me."
A thought that pleased him took shape in Thirlwell's brain, but he used
some restraint. He must not encourage the girl in what he imagined was
folly.
"The chance of your finding the vein is very small, and there's another
thing. You have told me your father's story, and I have met men like him
in the woods, who had wasted their money and lost their health following
an illusion. The lode, so to speak, haunted him and made him restless
when he might have been content at home, and then drove him into the
wilds when he was old. It's dangerous to give oneself up to a fixed
idea, and you mustn't let the infatuation get hold of you. It will bring
you disappointment and trouble."
"The warning's too late," said Agatha in a curious quiet voice. "The
infatuation has got hold of me, but one must follow one's bent, and life
is tame if one does nothing that is not prudent and safe. Besides,
romantic dreams sometimes come true."
"Not often," said Thirlwell dryly. "But why do you really want to go?"
"The silver is mine; my father gave it me. It looked as if my brother
would prosper without his help, and I think he loved me best. Perhaps
this was because I believed in the vein."
Thirlwell shook his head. "I cannot think you greedy."
"Then," said Agatha with a flush of color, "if you must have the truth,
I feel I must finish my father's work. His son and his best friends
thought him the victim of his imagination and the lode a joke; but if I
succeed, his dreams will be justified."
Thirlwell said nothing for a minute or two; he saw that she was resolute
and was moved by her staunch loyalty. After all, Strange's story was not
uncommon; Thirlwell had known men leave work and home to follow an
elusive clue to mineral treasure in the barren solitudes. Some had come
back broken in fortune and courage, and some had not come back at all.
Then while he mused the harsh cry of the loon rang through the dark. It
fired his blood, and unconsciously he fixed his eyes on the North, for
in summer the birds of the lakes and rivers push on towards the Pole. He
had done his duty and tried to persuade the girl, but after all she was
stronger and finer than Strange. It was possible that she might succeed,
and he could help.
"When you go I hope you will let me come," he said. "We have the tools
and outfit one needs for prospecting at the mine, and I could get the
packers and canoes."
"But you don't believe I shall find the lode. Why do you want to come?"
"I know the bush," Thirlwell answered with a smile. "So far I've been
prudent and stuck to my job, but I've felt the pull of the lone trail
like other men. In fact, I'd rather like to do something rash, for a
change."
"Have you never done anything rash?"
"Only once, I think. It needed all my pluck; but the curious thing is
that it's now turning out better than I hoped."
Agatha pondered and then looked up. "It would be an advantage to have
somebody I could trust to look after the packers and canoes; but the
journey must be made at my cost. I couldn't let another undertake my
duty."
"Then I may come? It's a promise?"
"Yes," said Agatha quietly; "when I am ready I will let you know. Now,
however, we must get back to the hotel."
Thirlwell dipped the paddle, the canoe lurched, and her bow rose at his
next vigorous stroke. The ripples she threw off widened into a
fan-shaped wake that trailed away and was lost in a glitter of
moonlight. The black pines on the point rose higher, resinous smells
came out of the dark, and presently a row of lights twinkled ahead.
Thirlwell ran the canoe alongside the landing and when they reached the
veranda Agatha gave him her hand.
"You start early, I think," she said. "I have much to thank you for and
am glad we have met."
He let her go and afterwards leaned against the rails. She had made him
a promise and when they next met it would be beside a river of the
North. But this was twelve months ahead; he felt it was a long time to
wait.