FLORA HATHERTON.
The next morning, at the hour of seven, I might have been found on the
landing-quay by the river. The Good Hope, I was informed, still lay a
short distance below the town, where for some reason she had anchored
during the night. It was unlikely that I should be kept waiting long,
yet I was in no haste to play the unaccustomed role of gallant. To
conceal my nervousness I tried to affect an air of jaunty composure. I
repeated over and over the words of greeting that I had chosen for the
occasion.
It was as fine a day as ever dawned on Quebec. A crisp, cool air blew
from the St. Lawrence, ruffling the water into little tips of foam. From
a blue and cloudless sky the rising sun shone on the scattered shipping,
on the green hills and islands, on the rugged and historical heights of
the town. Many others besides myself were on the quay, doubtless drawn
hither for the same purpose--priests, soldiers, soberly-clad citizens,
several coureurs-de-bois, and a redskin or two. I had a distant view of
Christopher Burley, and closer at hand I saw Captain Myles Rudstone in
conversation with a group of men. By-and-by he discovered me, and
strolling forward he gave me a pleasant word of greeting.
"It is quite an event, the arrival of a ship from England," said I.
"An event of importance," the captain replied. "But for the early hour
the quay would be crowded."
His manner was reserved and dignified, and I liked him better in this
mood. Yet I observed that his face wore a puzzled and uneasy expression
as he glanced at me, and that he seemed disinclined to look me straight
in the eyes. He ignored the events of the previous night, neither making
any reference to them nor offering the slightest apology. He chatted
indifferently for a moment or two, and then asked abruptly:
"You are waiting for the Good Hope, Mr. Carew?"
I nodded assent.
"Expecting a friend, perhaps?" he went on, carelessly; and I detected a
masked note of curiosity in his voice. It put me on my guard.
"Not exactly a friend," I replied evasively. "I am to meet a person whom
I have never seen."
"A strange coincidence, indeed!" said the captain, with a laugh. "That
is precisely my situation." He bent his head a little closer. "I am on
duty this morning," he added. "Secret work for the company, you
understand."
If he hoped by this confidence to draw my own in return he was
disappointed, though there was in truth no reason why I should not speak
freely; but it pleased me to be as mysterious as himself, so I answered
him by nodding my head wisely. Our eyes met, and he hastily turned and
looked out on the river.
"The ship is coming!" he exclaimed; and with that he bowed curtly and
strode away. He was soon lost to view in the crowd.
I gave him no further thought at the time. For a few moments I was all
in a flutter, and half-minded to take to my heels like a foolish boy.
But for very shame I presently plucked up courage and sought a point of
vantage at the edge of the quay.
Now the people were cheering loudly, and joyous hails floated shoreward
over the water. Nobly the Good Hope came in, her bulwarks and poop-deck
crowded with figures, the breeze bellying her canvas and fluttering the
flag of England at the masthead. I was fairly carried away by the novel
excitement, and I only came to my sober senses when the vessel was at
last moored alongside the quay and the gangway rattled down almost at my
feet.
I stuck to my place in spite of pressure and crowding. The first to come
ashore were all men--English merchants, returning Canadians, a couple of
uniformed officers, Frenchmen decked out in lace and fine clothing, and
a motley sprinkling of others. They passed on, some being met and
embraced by waiting friends; and next came an elderly, sour-looking
dame, who regarded me with ill-favor. I followed her a few paces beyond
the crowd, never doubting that I was right. Then I stepped boldly up to
her and doffed my cap.
"Do I address Miss Hatherton?" I began.
"No!" she snapped. "Wretch, how dare you?"
I fell back in confusion, with a titter of mocking laughter ringing in
my ears. I longed to hide my face, and I vowed that I would make no more
rash ventures. I was about to stride away when a hand touched me on the
shoulder, and a sweet voice asked:
"Pardon me, sir, but did I hear you inquire for Miss Hatherton?"
I turned round quickly, and what I saw brought my heart to my mouth and
the hot blood to my cheeks and temples. Before me stood a young girl of
no more than nineteen, slight and graceful of figure, with eyes of a
purple hue, a complexion like a ripe peach, and little curls of brown
hair straying from under her dainty bonnet. By her fine clothing and her
clear-cut features I knew that her station in life was of the best. I,
who had given no second thought to a woman in all my life, felt a thrill
of admiration. I stared at this fair creature as though she had been a
goddess, for I had never seen anything so lovely before. For a moment I
was speechless, and the girl repeated the question with some spirit,
accompanying it by a tap of the little foot.
"I--I did ask for Miss Hatherton," I stammered, "but surely you are
not--"
"I am Flora Hatherton," she interrupted; and as she spoke she made a
sudden and strange sign that puzzled me. "Who sent you to meet me, sir?"
she added impatiently.
Again I was at a loss for words. A great pity and resentment swelled up
in my heart. I still hoped that there might be a mistake somewhere. I
shrank from picturing this young and beautiful girl as the wife of old
Griffith Hawke, sharing with him the uncouth and half-barbarous life of
a wilderness trading post. It was too cruel for belief!
"Who sent you, stupid?" she repeated.
"Are you truly Miss Hatherton?" I asked.
"Of course I am!"
"Then I am at your service," said I, "and I am here to meet you in
behalf of the factor of Fort Royal."
Her eyes dropped and her face saddened.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "I thought you might be--"
But before she could finish the sentence a tall figure was thrust
impetuously between us, and I looked up to recognize Captain Rudstone.
He paid no heed to my presence, but made a swift sign to the girl. She
answered it as quickly, and then said, with a smile:
"You are Captain Rudstone?"
"The same, mademoiselle," he replied, with a courteous bow.
They moved a few paces to one side, and began to talk in low tones. I
hung back in confusion and anger, feeling bitterly the slight that had
been put upon me, and quite at a loss to know what the affair meant. I
overheard the words "Lord Selkirk" and "dispatches," and then I saw the
girl draw the end of a sealed packet of papers from her bosom; but she
thrust them out of sight again at a sharp command from Captain Rudstone.
The latter looked round just then, and I could have sworn that he
sneered contemptuously when he met my glance. My temper was ruffled by
the neglect and the sneer, and I stepped forward.
"Will Miss Hatherton permit me to escort her to the lodgings where she
is expected?" I asked the girl.
"My claim to this young lady's attention is prior to yours, sir," broke
in Captain Rudstone.
"I deny that, sir!" I cried hotly. "Will you be so kind as to state your
claim?"
"My word is enough. Be careful lest you provoke me further, Mr. Carew."
"I beseech you not to quarrel on my account, sirs," exclaimed Miss
Hatherton. "You are both right." The captain scowled at me.
"Which of us is to have precedence, mademoiselle?" he asked curtly.
But before the girl could answer an abrupt and unexpected interruption
fell upon us.