On the following day, the fifth of Ralph's stay in Milburn gulch, he
was strong enough to walk about more freely. Jim Sholto took him up
the trail to show him the excavations. Jim was secretly hoping that in
Ralph he would find a workman to take the place of one of the absent
boys. Being past the period of heart troubles himself, the danger of
introducing a strange and not uncomely young man into his family Eden
had not suggested itself to him.
While they were away, Kitty worked about the cabin in a spasmodic way
widely differing from her usual deft serenity. She would come to a
stand staring before her mistily, a little smile wreathing the corners
of her lips; rousing herself with a start, she would fly about for a
while as if her life depended on getting done, only to fall into
another dream. Absently picking things up, she dropped them in fresh
places, and presently started hunting for them again. Snatches of
impromptu song welled up from her breast, higher and higher, until her
voice trembled and broke. She continually ran to the mirror, by turns
anxious, critical, scornful, blushing, reassured by what she saw there.
Every three minutes she went to the door and looked up the trail to see
if he was coming back.
On one of these journeys she heard her name softly called behind her.
Whirling about she beheld approaching by the trail from the river a
graceful figure clad in buckskin skirt and blue flannel, her beautiful
dark face composed and smiling, her black hair braided and wound about
her upheld head. In short, it was her friend and preserver, holding
out her hands, and smiling at Kitty wistfully and deprecatingly, just
as she had seen her last.
Kitty shrieked with pleasure, and flinging her arms about her friend,
dragged her into the cabin, and forced her into a chair.
"Annie! Annie! Annie!" she cried, dropping on her knees beside her.
"How sweet of you to come! I wanted to see you so badly! You must
stay a week!"
Nahnya shook her head, smiling. "I just brought the dugout back," she
said in her soft full voice, that made a pleasant harmony with Kitty's
excited accents. "And I brought fresh meat, mountain goat."
"Did you get your own boat all right?" Kitty demanded to know.
"It was only a little broke," said Nahnya. "I fix it easy."
"How could you bring two boats up against the current?" asked Kitty.
"I only bring yours," Nahnya answered. "Mine is down the river on this
side where I can get it."
"How will you get it?"
"I will walk along the shore," said Nahnya. "It is not hard walking."
"Now I've got you, I'm not going to let you go in a hurry!" cried
Kitty, clinging to her.
"But you're all busy here," objected Nahnya. "The men----"
"My brothers have gone outside," said Kitty. "There is only my father
and--and a stranger."
"A stranger?" said Nahnya.
Kitty was not going to blurt out her secret. Her friend's mind must be
prepared by delicate stages for its reception. "We have a white man
stopping with us," she said very off-hand.
Nahnya was not blind to the self-conscious air and the blush. Her arm
tightened affectionately about Kitty.
"Why did you run away from us like you did?" asked Kitty hastily, to
create a diversion.
Nahnya shrugged. "I was afraid they thank me, and make a fuss," she
said uneasily. "I feel like a fool then."
"You silly dear!" cried Kitty embracing her afresh.
There was a new demonstrativeness in Kitty, a breathless ardour that in
itself was enough to tell the other woman something had happened since
their parting.
"So you have a visitor," she said teasingly. "I think he is young,
yes?"
Kitty tucked in an end of Nahnya's braid that was escaping. "Fairly
young," she said.
"You are not so much lonely now I think," murmured Nahnya.
Kitty jumped up. "You must be hungry!" she cried. "I'm forgetting my
duties!"
"Not an hour ago I ate," said Nahnya. "I am not hungry."
Kitty developed a great flow of small talk, about the weather, about
her brothers, about everything except what was in both their minds.
Nahnya let her run on. Under her friend's quiet, kind smile Kitty
broke down at last, and running to her, dropped beside her again, and
hid her hot face on the dark girl's shoulder.
"Oh, Annie!" she breathed on a trembling, rising inflection.
"Tell me," whispered Nahnya.
"Oh, Annie! It's so strange! I can't! I didn't want to tell you
anything. I wanted you to see him, and--and to guess! I have lost
myself completely! I am turned inside out! It came so suddenly. I
never guessed anything like this! Oh, Annie! He's so strong, so kind,
so mysterious, so clever, so dangerous! I am terrified of him. I am
wretched when he is out of my sight for a minute!"
Nahnya's face became grave. "Has he said anything?" she whispered.
"Not yet."
"Oh, Kitty dear!" murmured Nahnya. "Be careful! Men----!"
"He's true!" said Kitty hotly. "That I can see in his eyes!"
"You know who he is?" asked Nahnya anxiously. "Where he come from?
All about him?"
"No," faltered Kitty. "He's honest!" she cried. "My instinct tells me
so. He's good to me. He's careful of me. He doesn't make love to me!
Oh, Annie," she went on tremulously, "I've been living in a dream the
last few days! All the time he teases me, and I love it because I know
he is kind! All the time we laugh, and the hours go by like minutes!"
Once the opening was found, Kitty was not to be stopped from pouring
out the whole of her simple heart to her friend. Nahnya held her
close, and listened, and her dark head drooped.
Kitty, raising her face at last, was arrested by Nahnya's brooding look
upon her. Kitty had never seen eyes so kind and so sad. Their look
was as deep as the sea.
"Annie," she said sharply, "what's the matter? Aren't you glad?"
Nahnya pressed the girl convulsively. "I am glad," she murmured,
bestirring herself. "I love you. I am glad if you are happy!"
"You were not looking glad," said Kitty.
"It is foolishness," said Nahnya. "Only--I think of me. I am young.
I want be happy, too!"
"You will be!" cried Kitty.
Nahnya smiled--with those eyes! "It will never, never come to me!" she
murmured.
"Why not?" Kitty demanded to know.
Nahnya laughed away the brooding look. "Foolish!" she cried, "I am
jus' jealous! Tell me more! How did he come here?"
Kitty, like every lover, was a little selfish in her happiness. She
allowed herself to be reassured by Nahnya's laughter. "He was
travelling down the river all alone," she went on eagerly; "and he lost
his boat and everything he had in the Stanley rapids, and dislocated
his shoulder besides. The pain of it drove him out of his wits. For
days he wandered in the bush. Providence directed his footsteps to us,
dad says. He pitched headfirst through the doorway there, while I was
working. Never in my life was I so frightened!"
Nahnya had succeeded in putting her own sadness out of mind. "You have
not tell me what he look like," she said, warm with sympathy.
"He'll be here directly," said Kitty, blushing. "You shall see for
yourself."
Springing up, Kitty ran to the door to look up the trail. He was not
yet in sight. As she turned back into the room, Nahnya asked:
"What is his name?"
"Ralph Cowdray," said Kitty shyly.
There was silence in the cabin. The brook outside seemed suddenly to
increase its brawling. Kitty, in her shyness, turned away her head
when she spoke the name, therefore she did not see how Nahnya took it.
Kitty waited for Nahnya to speak. The silence became like a weight on
them both.
"Don't you think it's a pretty name?" murmured Kitty.
There was no answer. Kitty looked at her friend in surprise. Nahnya
had not moved. She still sat quiet in the chair, her hands loose in
her lap. But her head had fallen forward on her breast. The oblique
glimpse that Kitty caught of her cheeks caused her to run to her
friend, and fling an arm around her, and force her head up with the
other hand, that she might see into her face. Nahnya kept her eyes
obstinately veiled, but she could not disguise the shocking grayness
that had crept into her curved cheeks.
"Annie! What's the matter!" she cried in distress. "You're sick! Why
didn't you tell me? Come lie on my bed! Oh, how selfish I have been!"
Nahnya got up, steadying herself on the back of the chair. Her eyes
were blank and piteous. "I am not sick," she said, measuring her words
syllable by syllable. "I am all right. I will go now."
"You'll do nothing of the kind!" cried Kitty indignantly. "In such a
state! Come, lie down, and let me take care of you!"
Nahnya stolidly resisted Kitty's effort to urge her toward the bedroom.
Her measured voice began to shake in spite of her will. "You must let
me go," she said.
"What nonsense!" cried Kitty, clinging to her.
Nahnya's voice came sharp and urgent. "You must let me go or it will
be bad for all of us!"
Kitty fell back a step. "Bad for all of us!" she echoed in innocent
perplexity. "What do you mean?"
Nahnya passed the limit of endurance. Her hands went suddenly to her
head. A low, wild cry broke from her. "I am a cursed woman!" she
cried. "Always I know it! Where I go I bring sorrow and evil. There
is no place for me! There is nothing! All I ask for was a friend."
Kitty thought she was out of her senses. "There, it's all right!" she
said, soothing her. "You have me! You will always have me! I'm so
glad you came here. I will take care of you, and make you well again!"
Nahnya made believe to submit to her caresses. "I am cold," she
murmured, with a sly glance. "Get me a coat, a shawl."
Kitty flew into the bedroom. No sooner had she passed the doorway,
than Nahnya softly glided toward the outer door. She was too late.
Before she reached it, it was filled with the bulk of a man. She fell
back into the darkest corner with a gasp. Kitty returned out of the
bedroom.
"Ralph!" cried Kitty gladly.
Ralph coming out of the sunlight did not immediately recognize Nahnya
in her corner. He distinguished two figures.
"Hello! Who's here?" he said.
Kitty ran to Nahnya, and wrapped a shawl about her shoulders. "It's
Annie Crossfox," she said, full of concern. "She's sick, and I--
"Annie Crossfox!" cried Ralph in a great voice.
He sprang toward her. Kitty fell back in astonishment. Nahnya shrank
from him, and covered her face with her hands. Seizing her wrists, he
pulled her hands down. She betrayed her white blood in her changing
colour. Her face crimsoned--and turned deathly pale. Her hands in
Ralph's hands trembled like aspen leaves. There was a silence in the
cabin.
Ralph stood devouring her with his eyes. It seemed to him as if that
which was walled-up within him had suddenly burst. He was flooded with
the sense of the identity he had lost in his illness. It was as if
himself came back to him. And all of it was his love for Nahnya. It
filled him. It was like something new, and infinitely sweeter and
stronger than before.
He murmured her name over and again. "Thank God! I've found you!" he
said. "I'll never let you go now!"
Even while he was looking at her, Nahnya contrived to conquer the
surprise which had betrayed her weakness. Her face turned hard, and
her hands ceased to tremble. Snatching her hands out of his, she
darted to the door. Ralph was nearer. He reached it first, closed it,
and put his back against it.
"No, you don't!" he cried triumphantly. "You won't escape me again!
You love me, and I'll never let you go!"
Nahnya darted an unfathomable look at Kitty. "How dare you?" she said
to Ralph in a suffocating voice. "Before her! After what happen
between you!"
Ralph recollected Kitty for the first, and looked at her in honest
surprise. "Between us?" he said. "There's nothing between us!"
There was another silence. Ralph looked from one to another of the
girls in frowning perplexity. At last an explanation occurred to him.
"Are you jealous?" he cried to Nahnya.
She started angrily.
"Kitty took me in," said Ralph eagerly. "She nursed me like an angel.
I'll be grateful to her all my life. We're friends. There's nothing
else--I swear to you! Oh, this is horrible! Kitty, tell her there was
nothing between us!"
"I do not care!" said Nahnya quickly.
"Tell her!" insisted Ralph.
Kitty stood with a stiff back, and head held high. Her soft, pretty
face was distorted and ashen with pain, the tender lips everted from
her clenched teeth, the green-gray eyes narrowed and glittering. How
could she help but feel betrayed on either hand?
She laughed. "So that is your white man?" she said to Nahnya; quite
coolly she thought. It had a sharp and hateful ring. "And that is
your Nahnya?" she said, turning to Ralph. "I congratulate you both!"
Her voice failed her.
To see the gentle Kitty fighting to save her pride was infinitely more
piteous than if she had broken down. Nahnya turned away her head; at
the sound of Kitty's voice she shuddered. Ralph gazed at Kitty in
incredulous amazement. He possessed no key to her behaviour.
Kitty got her breath, and went on to Nahnya clearly: "Of course there
was nothing between us! I only did what one would do for anybody."
Once more the silence fell on them. They stood each on his point of
the triangle, each struggling with emotions that foundered speech.
Once Nahnya looked imploringly at Kitty; out of the wreck she longed to
save her friend. Kitty's eyes merely glittered, and Nahnya's face
turned into stone. Ralph began to suspect the true state of affairs,
and dismay widened his eyes.
It was Kitty who broke the silence. "I have something for you," she
said to Nahnya, moving toward her own room.
She was gone but a second. Nahnya and Ralph did not look at each
other. Returning, Kitty extended her hand to Nahnya with the necklace
lying upon the palm.
"He brought it to you," said Kitty.
She made to drop it into Nahnya's hand, but the dark girl quickly put
her hands behind her. The royal bauble dropped to the floor. It
glittered there, disregarded by all three.
"Oh, Kitty!" murmured Ralph, confused, remorseful and still amazed; "I
never dreamed of this--I never thought----"
"Never thought of what?" asked Kitty quickly.
"That you--that I! You're so good and gentle! Oh, it's horrible!"
A spasm passed over Kitty's face. Everything that was said made
matters worse. "You're talking nonsense," she said quickly. "There's
nothing the matter with me!"
"What are we to do?" muttered Ralph helplessly.
Nahnya's voice came harsh and hard. "Do you think every woman is in
love with you?" she cried. "You are nothing to me! I tell you that
before. I tell you that now! Keep away from me! I not want to see
you again!"
Ralph's eyes flamed up; he instantly forgot Kitty. "We'll see about
that!" he cried. "You're mine! I'll never give you up!"
He moved toward Nahnya. Turning, she darted into Kitty's room,
slamming the door behind her. By the time Ralph got it open she was
out through the window, carrying the mosquito netting with her. It
seemed a miracle that the tiny sash could have passed her body. It was
out of the question for Ralph. He dashed back to the front door, and
flinging it open, ran around the house to intercept her.
Left alone in the cabin, Kitty walked with a curious quietness to the
table under the front window. She dipped a cup into the pail of water
that stood there, and conveyed it to her lips, spilling much of the
water on the floor and on herself without noticing it. She returned
with the air of a sleep-walker, still carrying the cup, and picked up
the emerald, and put it away in a corner of the shelves. With the same
uncanny self-possession she seated herself in a chair nearby. She
sighed, and fell a little forward and sideways against the wall. Her
hand fell limply to her side, and the cup slipping from it was broken
on the floor. Thus her father found her when he came in.