The train crawled.
Although it was a fast express whose speed might well provoke the
admiration of travellers, in one traveller it provoked nothing save
grim endurance. Beside the consuming impatience of Benis Hamilton
Spence, its best effort was a little thing. When it slowed, he
fidgeted, when it stopped he fumed. He wanted to get out and push it.
Five days--four--three--two--a day and a half--the vastness of the
spaces over which it must carry him grew endless as his mind
continually tried to span them. He felt a distinct grievance that any
country should be so wide.
"Making good time!" said a genial person, travelling in the tobacco
trade. The professor eyed him with suspicion, as a man deranged by
optimism.
The train crawled.
Spence removed his eyes from the passing landscape and tried to forget
how slowly it was passing. He saw himself at the end of his journey. He
saw Desire. He saw a grudging moment, or second perhaps, devoted to
explanation. And then--How happy they were going to be! (If the train
would only forget to stop at stations it might get somewhere.) How
wonderful it would be to feel the empty world grow full again! To raise
one's eyes, just casually, and to see--Desire. To speak, in just one's
ordinary voice, and to know she heard. To stretch out one's hand and
feel that she was there. (What were they doing now? Putting on more
cars? Outrageous!) He would even write that book presently, when he got
around to it. (When one felt sure one could write.) But first they
would go away, just he and she, east of the sun and west of the moon.
They would sit together somewhere, as they used to sit on the
sun-warmed grass at Friendly Bay, and say nothing at all.... How
nearly they had missed it ... but it would be all right now. Love,
whom they had both denied, had both given and forgiven. It would be all
right, it must be all right, now! (But how the train crawled.)
Poor John, poor old Bones! What a blow it had been for him. Although he
should certainly have had more sense than to fancy--Well, of course, a
man can fancy anything it he wants it badly enough. Spence was honestly
sorry for John--that is, he would be when he had time to consider
John's case. But John, too, would be all right presently. (Why under
heaven do trains need to wait ten minutes while silly people walk on
platforms without hats?) John would marry a nice girl. Not a girl like
Desire--not that type of girl at all. Someone quite different, but
nice. A fair girl, like that nurse he had had in his office. John might
be very happy with a wife like that ...
* * * * *
It was not until the fourth night out that the professor remembered the
packet from Li Ho. It had loomed so small among the events of that day
fof revelations that he had completely forgotten it. He did not even
remember putting it in his pocket--but there it was, still unopened,
and promising some slight distraction from the wearying contemplation
of the crawling train. It would shut out, too, the annoyance of the
tobacco traveller, smoking with an offensive leisureliness, and
declaring, in defiance of all feeling, that they were "Sharp on time
and going some!"
With a reviving interest in something outside the time-table, Spence
cut the string and opened the yellow packet. A small note-book fell out
and a letter--two letters, and one of them in the unmistakable writing
of Li Ho him-self. This latter, the professor opened first.
"Honorable Spence and Esteemed Professor, dear Sir," wrote Li Ho.
"Permit felicity to include book belong departed parent of valued wife.
Deceased lady write as per day. Li Ho extract and think proper missy to
know. Honorable Boss head much loony. Secure that missy remain removed
if desiring safety. Belong much danger here since married as per also
enclosed. Exalted self be insignificantly warned by person of no
intelligence, Li Ho."
Farther down, in a corner of the sheet was this sentence:
"Permit to notably add that respected lady departed life Jan. 14."
Li Ho had certainly surpassed himself. The bewildered professor forgot
about the time-table entirely. What Chinese meaning lay behind this
jumble of dictionary words? That they were not used at haphazard Spence
knew. Li Ho had some distinct meaning to convey--had indeed already
conveyed it in the one outstanding word "danger." For an instant the
professor's mind sickened with that weakness which had been his
dreadful legacy of war. But it passed immediately. Something stronger,
deeper in, took quiet command. Desire was in danger! Shock has a way at
times of giving back what shock has taken.--Spence became his own man
once more--cool, ready.
With infinite care he went over the Chinaman's disjointed sentences.
They had been written under stress.
That much presented no difficulty. Li Ho, the imperturbable, had
permitted himself a fit of nerves ... Something must have happened.
Something new. Something which threatened a danger not sufficiently
emphasized before. In his former letter Li Ho had indeed intimated that
a return was not desirable, but it had been an intimation based on
general principles only. This was different. This had all the marks of
urgent warning. "No more safe being married as per inclosed." This
cryptic remark might mean that further enlightenment was to be sought
in the enclosures.
Spence picked up the second letter. It was addressed to Dr. Herbert
Farr at Vancouver, and was merely a formal notice from a firm of
English solicitors--post-marked London--a well-known firm, probably,
from the address on their letterhead.
"Dr. Herbert Farr,
Vancouver, B. C.
Dear Sir:
As executors in the estate of Mrs. Henry Strangeways we beg to inform
you that the allowance paid to you for the maintenance of Miss Desire
Farr is hereby discontinued. This action is taken under the terms of
our late clients will,--whereby such allowance ceases upon the marriage
of the said Desire Farr or her voluntary removal from your roof and
care.
Obediently yours,
Hervey & Ellis."
The professor whistled. Here was enlightenment indeed! A very
sufficient explanation of the old man's grim determination to block any
self-dependence on Desire's part which would mean "removal from" his
"care." Here was someone paying a steady (and perhaps a fat) allowance
for the young girl's maintenance--someone of whom she herself had
certainly never heard and of whose bounty she remained completely
ignorant. It was easy enough now to follow Li Ho's reasoning. If it was
for this allowance, and this alone, that the old doctor had kept Desire
with him, long after her presence had become a matter of indifference
or even of distaste, the ending of the allowance meant also the ending
of his tolerance. "No more safe, being married." The difference, in Li
Ho's opinion, was all the difference between comparative safety and
real danger. Money! As long as Desire had meant money there had been an
instinct in the old scoundrel which, even in his moon-devil fits, had
protected the goose which laid the golden eggs. But now--now this
inhibition was removed, Desire, no longer valuable, was no longer
safeguarded. And who could tell what added grudge of rage and vengeance
might be darkly harbored in the depths of that crafty and unbalanced
mind?
And Desire, unwarned, was even now almost within the madman's reach....
Spence sternly refused to think of this ... there was time yet ...
plenty of time.... The thing to do was to keep cool ... steady
now!
"Kind of pretty, going through these here mountains by moonlight,"
observed the tobacco traveller, inclined to be genial even under
difficulties. "She'll be full tomorrow night. Queer thing that them
there prohibitionists can't keep the moon from getting full!" He
laughed in hearty appreciation of his own cleverness.
The professor, a polite man, tried to smile. And then, suddenly, the
meaning of what had been said came home to him.
Tomorrow night would be full moon!
He had forgotten about the moon.
"Queer cuss," thought the travelling man. "Stares at you polite enough
but never says anything. No conversation. Just about as lively as an
undertaker."
But if Benis had forgotten to remove his eyes from the travelling man,
he did not know it. He did not see him. He saw nothing but
moonlight--moonlight across an uncovered floor and the white dimness of
a bed in the shadow! ... But he must keep cool ... was there time
to stop Desire with a telegram? She was only a day ahead ... no--he
was just too late for that. He knew the time-table by heart. Her train
was already in ... impossible to reach her now!
Fear having reached its limit, his mind swung slowly back to reason....
There was, he told himself, no occasion for panic. Li Ho might have
exaggerated. Besides, a danger known is almost a danger met And Li Ho
knew. Li Ho would be there. When, Desire came he would guard her....
A few hours only ... until he could get to her.... She was safe
for tonight at least. She would not attempt to cross the Inlet, until
the morning. She would have to hire a launch--a thing no woman would
attempt to do at that hour of night. She was in no hurry. She would
stay somewhere in the city and get herself taken to Farr's Landing in
the morning.... Through the day, too, she would be safe ... and,
to-morrow night, he, Benis, would be there.... But not until late
... not until after the moon ... better not think of the moon ...
think of Li Ho ... Li Ho would surely watch ...
He lay in his berth and told himself this over and over. The train
swung on. The cool, high air of the mountains crept through the
screened window. They were swinging through a land of awful and
gigantic beauty. The white moon turned the snow peaks into glittering
fountains from which pure light cascaded down, down into the blackness
at their base ... one more morning ... one more day ... Vancouver
at night ... a launch ... Desire!
Meanwhile one must keep steady. The professor drew from its yellow
wrapping the little note-book which had been the second of Li Ho's
enclosures. It had belonged, if Li Ho's information were correct, to
Desire's mother--a diary, probably. "Deceased lady write as per day."
Spence hesitated. It was Desire's property. He felt a delicacy in
examining it. But so many mistakes had already been made through want
of knowledge, he dared not risk another one. And Li Ho had probably
other than sentimental reasons for sending the book.
He shut out the mountains and the moonlight, and clicking on the
berth-light, turned the dog-eared pages reverently. Only a few were
written upon. It was a diary, as he had guessed, or rather brief bits
of one. The writing was small but very clear in spite of the fading
ink. The entries began abruptly. It was plain that there had been
another book of which this was a continuation.
The first date was November 1st--no year given.
"It is raining. The Indians say the winter will be very wet. Desire
plays in the rain and thrives. She is a lovely child,
high-spirited--not like me."
"November 10th--He was worse this month. I think he gets steadily a
little worse. I dare not say what I think. He would say that I had
fancies. No one else sees anything save harmless eccentricity,--except
perhaps Li Ho. But I am terrified.
"December 7th--I tried once more to get away. He found me quickly. It
isn't easy for a woman with a child to hide--without money. For myself
I can stand it--my own fault! But--my little girl!
"December 15th--I have been ill. Such a terrible experience. My one
thought was the dread of dying. I must live. I cannot leave
Desire--here.
"December 20th--He bought Desire new shoes and a frock today. It is
strange, but he seems to take a certain care of her. Why? I do not
know. I have wondered about his motives until I fancy things. What
motive could he have ... except that maybe he is not all evil? Maybe
be cares for the child. She is so sweet--No. I must not deceive myself.
Whatever his reason is, I know that it is not that.
"January 9th--A strange thing happened today. I found a torn envelope
bearing the name of Harry's English lawyers. I have seen the same kind
of envelope in Harry's hands more than once. They used to send him his
remittance, I think. What can this man have to do with English lawyers?
I am frightened. But for once I am more angry than afraid. I must
watch. If he has dared to write to Harry's people--"
The writing of the next entry had lost its clearness. It was almost
illegible.
"January 13th--How could he! How could he sink so low! I have seen the
lawyer's letter. He has taken money. From Harry's mother--for Desire.
And this began within a month of our marriage. It shames me so that I
cannot live. Yet I must live. I can't leave the child. But I can stop
this hateful traffic in a dead man's honor. I will write myself to
England."
This was the last fragment. Spence looked again at the almost erased
date--January 13th. He felt the sweat on his forehead for, beside that
date, the unexplained postscript of Li Ho's letter took on a ghastly
significance.
"Respected lady depart life on January 14th."
She had not lived to write to England!