When Lucy looked up, the others had gathered round and Walters smiled
sympathetically.
"Are you better?" he asked Lawrence.
"Yes; we'll go on in a minute. I don't know what was the matter; felt
dizzy and couldn't keep my balance. Think I needed a rest."
"The thing's obvious," Walters agreed. "After seeing you on the
glaciers, I reckon your nerve's all right, but you're not well yet and
we brought you up the last hill too fast. The exertion disturbed the
beating of your heart and a few drops too much blood sent to the brain
makes a big difference. That's what happened; it's our fault."
Lucy was grateful for the explanation, and thought it correct, but she
noted with some concern that Lawrence did not show the embarrassment
she had expected, which indicated that he had not recovered yet. In
the meantime, Walters gave her a look of ironical amusement. She could
not resent this and it seemed ridiculous to doubt him, but she did.
"Thank you; you were very quick and cool," she said with an effort.
Walters tactfully bowed his acknowledgment, as if he did not want to
press his claim on her gratitude, and Lucy turned to one of the others.
"Was it you who held me back?" she asked, and when the man nodded,
resumed: "Of course, you were right. I might have startled him and we
would both have fallen."
"That's what I was afraid of. Anyhow, Mr. Walters deserves your thanks
most. He saw what was needed and did it smartly."
Then Lawrence got up, with some color in his face, and gave Walters his
hand. "I expect I would have fallen if you hadn't come along," he said
and turned to the rest. "I feel I must apologize for frightening you.
My best excuse is that I wasn't as fit as I thought."
They urged him to rest and one offered to run to the hotel for brandy,
but he declared he was able to go on, and they tactfully began to talk
about something else and after a few minutes let him drop behind. He
was grateful and went slowly, with his hand on Lucy's arm. Sometimes
he pressed it gently and she gave him a tender look, but said nothing.
She could not talk; her relief was too great. When they reached the
hotel Lawrence went to his room, and soon afterwards Lucy met Walters
on the veranda.
"I hope Lawrence is not much the worse," he said.
Lucy remembered the part she had taken and resolved to play it out.
"I expect he will be as well as usual after a rest. You took a very
generous revenge."
Walters laughed. "After all, I was only a little quicker than the rest
and really ran no risk. I was behind him and he couldn't get hold of
me. In fact, I don't know that I'd have had grit enough to stick to
him if he had slipped."
He left her and Lucy could find no fault with his reply, which she
admitted was frank and modest. For all that, her distrust had not been
banished, and when, after a time, Lawrence came down, she said, "I
suppose you're now satisfied that it wasn't Walters' fault you were
left on the _couloir_?"
"Aren't you?" Lawrence asked with some surprise.
"No," said Lucy firmly. "I'm not quite satisfied. You see, there were
a number of accidents, all leading to one result. Coincidences of that
kind don't happen unless somebody arranges them."
Lawrence laughed. "Then they're not coincidences. Do you still hold
Walters accountable for the accidents?"
"If he was accountable, they wouldn't be accidents," Lucy rejoined with
some color in her face.
"A fair retort! But let's be serious. I'm not sure I'd have fallen
off the log if I'd been left alone, but it's very possible. Walters'
help was useful, whether he saved my life or not, and you can't deny
that he meant to save it."
"No; I think he meant to save you. Did you know who it was when he
touched you?"
"I did. Remembering Jake's theory, I saw it was possible he had come
to push me off, but I knew he hadn't. That's why I gave him my hand
afterwards."
"Ah!" said Lucy. "I was sorry when you did that, because I knew what
it meant"
Lawrence looked at her deprecatingly. "I don't like you to be
prejudiced, dear, even on my account. I can do nothing that might
injure Walters now and can't treat him with suspicion; but he's going
soon and, if it's any comfort, I won't leave the hotel grounds for the
next day or two. Anyhow I've rather overdone things lately."
"Thank you for the promise," Lucy said, and was glad when her mother
joined them, for she felt baffled and wanted to think.
She hated Walters with a half-instinctive hatred that reflection showed
her was justified; but beyond the concession he had made Lawrence would
not be moved. On the surface, so to speak, he was logical and she was
not. She was sure Walters had plotted to leave him on the couloir,
although she admitted that he had meant to save his life when he turned
dizzy upon the trunk. It was possible that he had yielded to sudden
generous emotion, but she did not accept the explanation. The fellow
was cold-blooded and calculating; she thought he had deliberately let
his opportunity pass, because, after this, nobody would believe him
guilty if he found another. But he must not find an opportunity, and
it was a keen relief to know that Foster would soon arrive. She had
not told Lawrence yet; it might be better to let Foster make an excuse
for his visit.
When it began to get dark, she stood near the glass front of the
veranda and glanced at her watch. She could see for some distance down
the valley and knew that the smoke of a locomotive would spread in a
dark cloud across the tops of the pines. The train was late, but there
was no smoke yet. It was a long climb from sea-level at Vancouver
Inlet and in winter the line was sometimes blocked. There was no
obvious ground for alarm, but somehow she was worse afraid of Walters
than before.
The massed pines gradually faded to a formless blur on the cold
blue-gray slopes of snow. There was no sound from the valley by the
roar of the river, and by and by a servant turned on the lamps. Lucy
could now see nothing outside and shivered as she looked at her watch.
She hoped no accident had delayed the tram.
In the meantime, Lawrence, who was sitting near her mother, had picked
up a book, but put it down when Walters came in, and Lucy felt a
curious tremor of repugnance as she glanced at him. It was a shrinking
she sometimes experienced at the sight of a noxious insect. Yet there
was nothing about Walters to excite aversion. He was rather a handsome
man, and stood in a careless pose, smiling at the group.
"The trouble about a pleasant time is that it comes to an end, and I'll
have to pull out to-morrow," he said. "When are you going to give me
the photographs you promised, Lawrence?"
"I'll get them now and you can choose which you like. They're in my
room."
"I want one with Miss Stephen in it as well as yourself," Walters
replied. "It will be something to remind me of our climbs."
"Send the boy for the packet," Lucy interposed.
"I think the drawer's locked; anyhow I don't want the boy to upset my
things," Lawrence objected.
"Then I'll go with you," said Walters. "It will save you taking the
packet back and you can get ready for dinner while you are upstairs."