She sat down, feeling rather limp, when he left her. He had, on the
surface, taken a very proper line, and his excuse for coming was
plausible, but she knew that it was false. The man had meant to leave
her lover to freeze among the rocks and was horribly clever. It was
hard to preserve her calm when she hated and feared him, and although
she thought she had not acted badly, the interview had been trying.
Besides, Lawrence was generous and not very discriminating. Walters
might find a way of disarming the suspicions Foster had roused.
When the page showed Walters to his room, he said to the lad, "I want
somebody to go to the station for my bag. Have they a telegraph
office?"
"Yep; I'm going down to send a wire. Office isn't open long. Agent
quits as soon as the east-bound freight comes through."
"I suppose the wire's from Miss Stephen?"
The page nodded and Walters gave him twenty-five cents. "Well, if you
can wait a little, I'll have a message to send; it will save you a
journey."
The boy hesitated; but the money banished his doubts. "All right;
you'd better get it written. The freight's nearly due."
Walters went to Lawrence's room before he wrote the telegram, and met
Lucy again at dinner. There were only two tables in use in the large
dining-room, and the waiter sent him to Mrs. Stephen's. Lucy wondered
whether Walters had arranged this with the man beforehand, but it gave
her an opportunity of watching him and she did not object. She
admitted that he had nerve and tact, for although she feared him and
her mother shared her distrust, he was able to banish the constraint
both felt and amuse the party. Lucy could not tell what Lawrence
thought, but he laughed at the other's stories and now and then
bantered him.
After dinner Walters left them and when they went; to Mrs. Stephen's
sitting-room Lucy remarked rather sharply: "You seemed to find Walters
amusing!"
"He is amusing," Lawrence answered. "In fact, the fellow puzzles me."
"You mean he couldn't talk in that good-humored, witty way if he had
plotted to leave you on the _couloir_?"
"Well," said Lawrence, "I suppose I did feel something of the kind."
"I don't know that it's very logical," Lucy rejoined, hiding her alarm.
"You agreed with Foster's conclusions when he was here."
"I did, to some extent. The way Jake argued out the matter made things
look pretty bad."
"But they look better now? Walters was talking to you in your room?"
"He didn't say much about our climb; just a word or two of regret for
his carelessness in not seeing what had happened to the guide."
"Words that were very carefully chosen, no doubt!"
"Well," said Lawrence, "I'm frankly puzzled; the more I think about our
adventure, the harder it is to decide how much one could hold Walters
accountable for. It _was_ difficult to throw me up the rope without
slipping, and there was only a small, projecting rock, on which he
might have broken his bones, to prevent his tobogganing to the bottom.
If he had slid past it, he would have been killed."
"Walters wouldn't hesitate about a risk. It might have looked like an
accident if you hadn't heard Foster's story."
Lawrence knitted his brows, rather impatiently. "After all, Jake's a
romantic fellow, and his explanation's theatrical."
"You don't like theatrical things," Mrs. Stephen interposed. "You must
admit that they happen, but you feel it's ridiculous that they should
happen to you."
"I imagine I do feel that," Lawrence agreed with a smile. "When they
happen to somebody else they're not so unnatural."
Lucy tried to preserve her self-control, but her tone was sharp as she
said, "Then you feel inclined to forgive Walters the pain and illness
he caused you."
"It would be harder to forgive him your anxiety," Lawrence rejoined,
and his face set hard. "In fact, if I knew he really had plotted the
thing------" He paused and resumed: "One would be justified in killing
a brute who could do what you imagine, but there's a difference between
hating a crime and punishing the man accused of it before you have
proved his guilt. In the meantime, I'm trying to keep an open mind."
"But you will be careful and not trust him far," Lucy urged.
"I'll run no risks; I've some ground for being cautious."
Lucy said no more. Lawrence was not well yet and sometimes got
obstinate if one argued with him. She thought he would be prudent, but
it was comforting to remember that she had telegraphed for his comrade.
Unfortunately, she did not know that her message was then in the page's
pocket. He had waited some time for Walters' telegram, and when he
reached the station found the agent gone. In consequence, fearing a
reprimand, he resolved to send the messages in the morning and say
nothing about the matter.
The next day was clear and calm, with bright sunshine on the snow, and
Mrs. Stephen agreed when Lawrence insisted on going for a short walk
with her and some of the guests. Walters joined the party, although
Lucy tried to leave him behind, and they leisurely climbed a winding
path among the pines. The snow was thin and crisp beneath the trees,
the air exhilarating, and through openings they caught glimpses of
fissured glaciers, rocks that glistened in the steely light, and
majestic glittering peaks. The pines were straight and tall, and the
great soft-colored trunks rose in long climbing ranks against the blue
shadow on the snow.
They stopped for a few minutes at the foot of a crag, and then
Lawrence, who had been sitting rather slackly on a log, got up with a
shiver.
"The air's keen," he said. "Can't we go back another way where we'll
get the sun?"
One of the party said there was a lower and more open trail, and they
went down until they reached a narrow track that followed the edge of a
steep fall to the river. The hillside above made a sharp angle with
the pines that cut, in scattered cones of somber green, against the
long, glittering slope. Below, the ground dropped nearly sheer to the
green flood that roared among the ice. Although the trail was safe
enough, Lucy kept close to Lawrence and was glad to see Walters talking
to one of the others some distance behind. She felt jaded, for she had
not relaxed her watchfulness since the man arrived. By and by Lawrence
gave her a grateful smile.
"You look tired; I expect I'm something of a responsibility. If you
like, I'll make an excuse for stopping in until Walters goes."
"No," she said with an effort, "that would be cowardly and not good for
you. After all, I may be giving my imagination rein; but I wish he
hadn't come."
"He won't be here long. Anyhow, we'll keep out of his way as much as
we can for the rest of the time."
"That's a relief. Still, I expect you really think you are indulging
me."
"I don't know what to think," Lawrence replied. "You're clever, and
Jake, who takes your view, is not a fool. But it doesn't look as if
Walters meant to do me much harm."
"He can't, so long as you don't give him an opportunity."
Lawrence's eyes twinkled. "And you'll take care that I don't? Well,
it's rather nice to be protected."