DICK BRACKNELL LEARNS THE TRUTH
“WE MUST find out what has happened!” said Joy, looking at Bracknell.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “but you must not go alone. If you will wait a
moment I will accompany you.”
“But your cough----” Joy began, a tone of solicitude in her voice.
“My cough!” Dick Bracknell laughed bitterly. “That is nothing to what
may lie before us, and in any case it is not safe for you to go alone.”
Something in his voice and manner convinced her that he was not
speaking idly, and that he had his own reasons for apprehension.
“Very well,” she said, “we will wait for you. We will go down the creek
together.”
He turned back into the hut, and the two girls looked at each other.
They were used to the stillness of the forest, but somehow the
silence that prevailed seemed ominous of fateful things. Both of them
were conscious of vague forebodings, and as Babette looked at her
foster-sister, and saw the light of apprehension in her eyes, she
whispered, “What do you think, Joy? What do you think has happened?”
“I do not know, but I feel that it is something dreadful and I am
afraid.” She looked towards the cabin, and added, “He is afraid also.
You can see that!”
“Yes! That is very clear.”
They stood waiting until Dick Bracknell appeared, and then without
speaking all three started down the creek. A few minutes walking
brought them in sight of the main trail, and suddenly Joy gave a cry,
and pointed ahead. The figure of a man was lying prone in the snow, and
as he caught sight of it, Dick Bracknell broke into a feeble run. For
a moment the two girls stood quite still, looking each at the blanched
face of the other, then they followed, slowly, the premonition of
tragedy mounting in their hearts.
When they reached Bracknell they found him stooping over the figure,
with a look of consternation in his eyes.
“Do you know him? Is it your----”
“Oh!” cried Babette. “It is George!”
“George! Who is----”
“He was my father’s man, and he is mine!” said Joy, staring at the
fallen Indian with stricken eyes.
“No,” said Dick Bracknell quietly, “he is yours no longer! He has gone
to the happy hunting grounds.”
“Dead?” cried Joy, as the truth broke upon her. “George dead! But how?
What----”
Bracknell looked up at her, moved by the anguish in her tones, then he
pointed to what she had not seen, a feathered arrow head, half hidden
by the crook of the arm.
“Oh!” she sobbed. “He has been killed. He----”
“But where is Jim? Where are the dogs?” cried her foster-sister. “Both
have been here! See, here are the tracks, and there goes the trail
northward!”
It was as she said, and as Dick Bracknell looked down and read
the signs a dark look came on his face. Babette looked from her
foster-sister, sobbing in the snow, to the man who was her husband.
“What do you think has happened?” she asked.
He looked from her to Joy commiseratingly. “I can only guess,” he said
in a troubled voice. “I think the Indian who was with me is responsible
for this, the man who brought you to my shack--you know. When you came
to the cabin he had instructions to look out for your men at the mouth
of the creek. I--I am afraid he exceeded my instructions. I think that
he must have attacked your men----”
“But why should he do that, if you did not tell him?”
As Joy flung this question at him, a troubled look came upon his face.
“I think he wanted your dogs and outfit, that we might get away from
here!”
“Our dogs and outfit?”
“Yes. He is devoted to me, but twice lately I have had trouble on that
point. Once when my cousin Roger Bracknell came----”
He broke off suddenly as Joy sprang to her feet. “Your cousin Roger has
been here?” she cried. “He is alive then?”
As she flung her questions at him eagerly, impetuously, the man’s face
clouded, and again a jealous light came in his eyes. It was a moment
before he answered the questions, and to Babette, watching him it
appeared that he was struggling hard for self-mastery.
“Yes,” he replied, at last, in a hoarse voice. “He is alive! He came to
my cabin by accident. He had broken his leg, and had lain in an Indian
encampment for weeks. There he had heard news which had sent him hot
foot on the trail of a man who was responsible for your father’s death!”
“For my father’s death?” as she cried the words Joy’s face was white as
the snow about her. “But--but----”
Her voice faltered, and guessing what she would have said, Bracknell
explained. “I am afraid it will come as a shock to you even after these
three or four years, but it appears to be the fact that your father’s
death was not altogether accidental.
“My cousin had a very circumstantial story of the affair, and he was
on the trail of the man who was responsible for the crime, the same
man, as he believes, who shot me on the night when I had arranged that
meeting with you at North Star.”
“But who is the man?” asked Joy quickly.
“My cousin gave me no name, indeed he declined to do so. But he had his
theory, and he went so far as to tell me that not only did the Indian
who was with him know the man, but that he himself believed that he
knew him.”
“Ah!” cried Joy.
Her husband looked at her. “You also guess?”
“Yes!” she answered. “I guess--but no more than guess!”
“Who is the man?” asked Bracknell quickly.
“His name is Adrian Rayner!”
“Rayner!” cried Bracknell excitedly. “The son of old Rayner, your
guardian?”
“Yes! He is in the North now. I believe that he is looking for Roger
Bracknell.”
“God in heaven!”
“What is the matter?” asked Joy. “You look as if something had occurred
to you!”
“Yes!” he said simply. “Something has--something very significant. Two
or three days after Roger left the shack a stranger arrived----”
“Mr. Bracknell,” interrupted Miss La Farge, “don’t you think we had
better postpone explanations for a little time? If we remain talking
here we shall freeze. And there are things to be done. There is Jim to
find--and there is the team and the outfit. Then we must bury George.
We can’t possibly leave him lying here for the wolves!”
“Yes,” answered Bracknell. “I was forgetting.” He considered a moment
and then spoke again. “The sled tracks run up the river. If you two
were to follow a little way, till you get to that spur there, you will
have a long view of the trail, and possibly you will be able to see
something of the team and your man. But don’t go too far. It won’t
be safe. Whilst you are away, I will arrange tree-burial for this
poor fellow. And when you return we can discuss the situation. Do you
agree?”
“Yes,” answered Joy.
“Then I will waste no time, nor, I hope, will you.”
He turned and began to walk up the creek in a way that revealed what
an effort it was for him, and for a second or two Joy watched him with
pitying eyes, then as her foster-sister spoke, she turned, and without
answering began to follow the sled tracks.
After they had trudged a little way, Babette spoke.
“Dick Bracknell is a strange man. Two hours ago he was within an ace
of violence towards you, and now I believe he is really solicitous for
your welfare.”
“Yes,” answered Joy. “He is full of contradictions. There are many
men like him, I suppose. When he is good he is very good, and when he
is bad he is almost satanic. When I first met him he was a gentleman,
an attractive one; and but for unfortunate influences he might have
continued--but now----”
“Now he is a wreck, physical and moral,” answered Babette, and then
asked sharply, “Suppose we do not find Jim and the dogs, Joy?”
“We must find them!”
“But suppose we do not? What then?”
“Then we shall have to take refuge in the cabin.”
She said no more, and Babette asked no more questions. In half an hour
they reached the wooded spur round which the river turned, and as they
reached the further side, both came to a standstill and looked at the
frozen waste.
For two or three miles the course of the river was visible between low,
wooded banks. Snow was everywhere, and nowhere was the white surface
broken by any moving figure. It was a land of death--death white and
cold. Babette shivered as she looked on it.
“They are not here, Joy,” she whispered. “Neither Jim nor the dogs.”
“No,” answered Joy stonily.
“We shall have to go back to the cabin to--to--your husband.”
“Yes, there is no other way!” A sob broke from her, then she bit her
lip, and added, “It is a strange irony that now my safety should depend
on him.”
“Dare you trust him--Joy?”
“Yes,” answered Joy thoughtfully. “I can trust him--now. As you have
seen he is a very sick man, and in spite of the way in which he raved
in the cabin, I believe that now he is greatly concerned for my safety,
and yours. Did you notice the sudden change in his attitude after I had
mentioned Adrian Rayner’s name?”
“Yes, he was startled. His manner completely altered. Something struck
him with your mention of the name. I wonder what it was?”
“I do not know. I cannot even guess, but no doubt we shall hear
presently. There is nothing for us to do but to return to the cabin.”
Her foster-sister nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, we shall have to do that.
We can do nothing else.” She paused a moment and then asked, “You don’t
think George’s son has deserted us, Joy?”
“No!” answered Joy emphatically. “Something has driven him away. But he
will return--if he can. I am sure of that!”
They turned in their tracks and slowly retraced their way to the cabin.
Dick Bracknell was standing at the door, evidently waiting for them,
and as they approached he flashed a look of inquiry at Joy. She shook
her head.
“No,” she said quietly. “There is nothing to be seen anywhere.”
“I am sorry,” answered Bracknell simply. “You must wait here. Perhaps
your other man will return, or if he does not my man may.”
He opened the door and held it for them to pass in.
“You can take off your furs,” he said, as they entered. “I have blocked
the window with snow, and stretched a blanket over it. I am afraid that
it will be rather dark, but that is unavoidable.”
The two girls followed his suggestion and seated themselves by the
stove. For a little time no one spoke, and the red glow of the fire
shining on their faces showed them very thoughtful. At last, Joy broke
the silence.
“You were saying that two or three days after your cousin left here a
stranger arrived. Who was it? Do you know?”
Dick Bracknell laughed mirthlessly. “I do not know for certain. I can
only guess.”
“And you guess----”
“That it was old Rayner’s son--Adrian, I think you called him. Of
course he didn’t tell me who he was, but he let out that he was looking
for my Cousin Roger, and posed as a lawyer’s clerk. I’m morally
certain, however, that he was young Rayner!”
Joy remembered his sudden change of manner when she had said that
Adrian Rayner was in the North, looking, as she believed for Roger
Bracknell, and after a moment, urged by something deeper than
curiosity, she spoke, “You hinted that something very significant had
occurred to you. What was it?”
Dick Bracknell hesitated, and it was evident that he was wondering
whether to tell her or not. Then he laughed bitterly. “You may as well
know all the kinds of fool I am. This stranger pitched a yarn about you
and Roger, and I was fool enough to believe him.”
He broke off and looked at Joy, whose face was flaming. Even in the red
glow of the firelight the flush revealed itself to him, but though he
frowned a little, he continued in an even voice. “He told me that my
brother Geoffrey was dead, and that as I was either dead or as good as
dead, Roger quite naturally was reckoned as the heir to Harrow Fell. He
said further that you knew of this and that you were looking for Roger
with the news and with the intention of marrying him.”
“Oh!”
As the exclamation broke from her, Joy abruptly hid her face in her
hands, Bracknell coughed a little and then resumed--
“He claimed to be the agent of old Rayner, and declared he was looking
for Roger Bracknell in order to warn him of your previous marriage,
and to give him warning that I was alive, in case you--a--should not
regard that marriage as binding.”
He looked at Joy again. Her face was still hidden in her hands.
“As I said, I was fool enough to believe him, and that accounts for
my amiable reception of you just now. It even accounts for your
presence here, for when my man Joe brought news that you were out in
the Northward trail, the trail that Roger was following, I was morally
certain that you were out upon his track, and I set out to trap you.
You must own that your unexpected presence did give colour to Rayner’s
story, and that I had some excuse for----”
“I _was_ looking for your cousin Roger,” interrupted Joy, suddenly
lifting her face, and meeting his questioning gaze.
He looked at her but did not immediately reply. And in the silence that
followed Miss La Farge rose from her seat and began to put on her furs.
“I am going outside,” she said. “It is better that I should. You two
have things to say to each other that should only be said between you.”
She passed out, shutting the door behind her, and after a little time,
Dick Bracknell spoke again.
“You say you were looking for my Cousin Roger? That is a very damaging
admission, is it not? It would seem that, after all, that fellow Rayner
was not far off the mark.”
“You do not believe that?” answered Joy, meeting his gaze with steady
eyes.
He laughed shortly. “No,” he admitted. “I do not believe it--now, but
I will own that I am a little curious as to the reason why you should
follow on my cousin’s trail. It is--er--a little unusual.”
“I was following him, as I believed, to save him. Adrian Rayner wanted
to marry me, and I had accused him of trying to kill you at North Star.
He knew all about my marriage to you, though how he got the knowledge I
cannot tell----”
“That is simple enough!” broke in her husband. “I wrote to old Rayner
and told him----”
“But my uncle did not know, I am sure he did not know. He himself
wanted me to marry Adrian, and I can’t believe he knew.”
“Perhaps not,” admitted Bracknell thoughtfully. “It is possible that
young Rayner got hold of my letter to his father and that the old man
never saw it at all. But what has this to do with my cousin!”
“This! Adrian Rayner told me that he was coming here in order to prove
that you were dead but I was morally certain that he was coming here to
find your cousin Roger and to--to----”
“To shoot him, hey? Why should he want to do that?”
“Because he knew that your cousin suspected him of that attempt on your
life at North Star!”
“Wanted to get rid of a witness, I suppose. And you were following
Roger to warn him.”
“Yes! That was one reason.”
“Um! It’s a nice coil, for sure. I entertain the man who tried to
murder me, and I set him on the trail of my cousin who was trying to
bring him to justice. That is about as pretty a kettle of fish as----”
“But you did not tell Adrian Rayner where Roger had gone?” cried Joy,
springing to her feet. “Surely you did not tell him?”
“At that time,” answered Bracknell slowly, “it seemed to me that I had
little cause to love my Cousin Roger. You are to remember that I was in
ignorance of much that I have learned this morning.”
“You told him?” cried Joy.
“I certainly put him on the track,” answered the man.
“Then God forgive you! God forgive you!” cried Joy in anguished tones.
Dick Bracknell’s face set hard, and only by an effort was he able to
control himself. But after a moment he replied quietly, “As I have
said, I did not know Rayner. I had no inkling of his game.”
“No!” said Joy stonily. “I understand that.”
“You hinted that there was another reason,” said Bracknell, watching
her closely. “I wonder if you would mind telling me----”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” broke in Joy impulsively. “Your brother
Geoffrey was killed whilst I was in England. Indeed, I was the one
to find him dead. No one knew whether you were alive or dead, even
I did not know, and Roger was regarded as the heir. But I knew that
when he left North Star that he was going to try and learn what had
really happened to you, and I was afraid that if there was a collision
between you, and anything dreadful happened, people might say that
he--that he----”
She broke off, and hesitated.
“I understand,” said her husband. “You need not say it. I dare say you
are quite right. This world is full of Christian charity.”
“I cabled him and tried to get in touch with him. I learned that he was
missing. I came out, and at Regina I discovered that nothing whatever
had been heard about him, but I discovered also that Adrian Rayner had
been making inquiries, that he was on his trail. Then I was certain of
his evil purpose, and when I reached North Star and found Adrian there,
I accused him, for I was very sure of his intentions. As soon as I
could I started to look for your cousin myself----”
“You seem very anxious about my cousin,” broke in her husband quietly.
“Oh, how can I help being?” cried Joy.
Dick Bracknell took a step forward, and put a hand on her shoulder. She
did not shrink, and as his eyes searched her face, she met his gaze
steadily. They stood there silent for what seemed a long time, then
Bracknell dropped his hand.
“I think I understand,” he said wearily, “and I do not blame you. And
I am sure that both Roger and you have played the game! Well, I’m
crocked, and----”
He broke off and laughed harshly. Then his haggard face grew suddenly
convulsed with rage. “That--Rayner! If only I could meet him again I
think I could die happily!”
Joy looked at him, her heart wrung with pity for him. She stretched a
hand impulsively, and was about to speak when the door was flung open
violently, and Miss La Farge rushed in, hastily barring the door behind
her.