NASMYTH HEARS THE RIVER
Darkness had settled down on Bonavista next evening when Nasmyth lay
in a canvas chair on the veranda, while Gordon leaned against the
balustrade in front of him with a cigar in his hand. A blaze of light
streamed out from one of the long open windows a few yards away, and
somebody was singing in the room behind it, while the splash of the
gentle surf came up from the foot of the promontory in a deep
monotone. Now and then a shadowy figure strolled into the veranda or
crossed it to the terrace below, but for the time being nobody
disturbed the two men.
"I haven't had a word with you since last night," said Nasmyth. "How
are the boys at the settlement?"
"Hustling along as usual." Gordon laughed. "Is there anybody else you
feel inclined to ask about?"
"Yes," said Nasmyth, "there certainly is. How is Miss Waynefleet?"
Gordon looked down at his cigar. "Well," he said, "I'm a little
worried on her account. She was attempting to do a great deal more
than was good for her when I last saw her. They have no longer a hired
man at the ranch. Waynefleet, I understand, is rather tightly fixed
for money, and, as you know, he isn't the kind of man who would deny
himself. He was talking of selling some stock."
Nasmyth suddenly straightened himself, and closed one hand rather hard
on the arm of his chair.
"What right have you and I to be lounging here when that girl is
working late and early on the ranch?" he asked. "Gordon, you will
have to buy two or three head of that stock at double value for me."
"It's rather a big question;" and Gordon's tone was serious. "In fact,
I fancy it's one that neither you nor I can throw much light upon.
Anyway, I may as well point out that I arrived here only yesterday,
and I'm going on again in the morning. As to the other matter, Laura
Waynefleet has friends who will stand by her."
"Don't you count me one of them?" Nasmyth demanded. "That girl saved
my life for me."
Gordon glanced round sharply, for there were light footsteps on the
veranda, and he almost imagined that a white figure in filmy draperies
stopped a moment. It, however, went on again and vanished in the
shadow.
"I believe she did," he admitted. "Well, if there's anything that can
be done, you may rely on me." He made an abrupt gesture, and as he
turned, the light from the window fell upon his face, showing the
curious smile on it. "What are you doing here?"
He flung the question at his comrade, and Nasmyth, who knew what he
meant, sat for a moment or two with wrinkled forehead. There was no
reason why he should not stay there so long as Mr. and Mrs. Acton
desired his company, but it did not seem fitting that he should spend
those summer days in luxurious idleness while Laura Waynefleet toiled
late and early at the lonely ranch. Again, he seemed to see her steady
eyes with the quiet courage in them, and the gleam of her red-gold
hair. Even then she was, he reflected, in all probability occupied
with some severe drudgery. It was a thing he did not like to
contemplate, and he almost resented the fact that Gordon should have
brought such thoughts into his mind. His comrade had broken in upon
his contentment like a frosty wind that stung him to action. Still, he
answered quietly.
"I am within easy reach of the city here," he explained. "Acton, who
has once or twice given me good advice, is acquainted with most of the
folks likely to be of any use to us, and has laid the scheme before
one or two of them. That, at least, is one reason why I am staying at
Bonavista. It's perfectly evident that it wouldn't be any benefit to
Miss Waynefleet if I went back to the Bush."
"No," agreed Gordon grimly; "if you were likely to be of any use or
consolation to her, you'd go, if I had to drag you."
Nasmyth smiled. He was too well acquainted with his comrade's manner
to take offence at this remark, and the man's devotion to the girl
who, he knew, would never regard him as more than a friend also had
its effect.
"Well," he said, "since plain speaking seems admissible, you are
probably aware that Laura Waynefleet has nothing beyond a kindly
interest in me. She is, I needn't point out, a remarkably sensible
young lady."
He stopped somewhat abruptly, for Wisbech emerged from the shadows
beneath the pillars, and sat down in a chair close by.
"Yes," said Wisbech, "I heard, and it seems to me Derrick's right in
one respect. Though I don't know how far it accounts for the other
fact he has just impressed on you, Miss Waynefleet certainly possesses
a considerable amount of sense. She is also a young lady I have a high
opinion of. Still, if he had gone back to the Bush merely because you
insisted on it, I think I should have cast him off."
Gordon appeared to ponder over this, and he then laughed softly. "It's
quite natural, and I guess I sympathize with you," he remarked. "In
one way, however, your nephew's acquitting himself creditably,
considering that there are apparently three people anxious to exert a
beneficent influence upon him. The effect of that kind of thing is apt
to become a trifle bewildering, especially as it's evident their views
can't invariably coincide."
"Three?" said Wisbech, with a twinkle in his eyes. "If you count me
in, I almost fancy there are four."
Nasmyth said nothing, though he felt his face grow hot. Gordon
smiled.
"As a matter of fact," he admitted, "I had a notion that Miss Hamilton
resented my being here. Any way, she didn't take any very noticeable
trouble to be pleasant to me to-day. No doubt she considers any
influence she may choose to exert should be quite sufficient."
"It should be," said Nasmyth. "That is, to any man who happened to be
a judge of character, and had eyes in his head."
Gordon waved one hand. "Oh," he averred, "she's very dainty, and I
think there's a little more than prettiness there, which is a very
liberal admission, since I'm troubled with an impression that she
isn't quite pleased with me. Still, when the woods are full of pretty
girls, I guess it's wisest of a man who has anything worth while to do
in front of him to keep his eyes right on the trail, and go steadily
ahead." He turned to Wisbech deprecatingly. "We don't mind you, sir.
We regard you as part of the concern."
"Thanks," said Wisbech, with a certain dryness. "I believe I am
interested in it--at least, financially."
"Well," said Gordon, "when I break loose, as I do now and then, I
quite often say a little more than is strictly advisable without
meaning to. It's a habit some folks have. Your observation, however,
switches us off on to a different matter. I've been telling your
nephew we leave him to handle the thing and stand by our offers."
"That is precisely what I mean to do. The affair is Derrick's. He must
take his own course," declared Wisbech.
Gordon grinned as he turned to Nasmyth. "There will be no reinforcements.
You have to win your spurs." Then he looked at Wisbech. "If you will
not be offended, sir, I would like to say I'm pleased to notice that
your ideas coincide with mine. He'll be the tougher afterwards if you
let him put up his fight alone."
"The assurance is naturally satisfactory," said Wisbech with quiet
amusement. Then he held up one hand. "It seems to me the person at the
piano is playing exceptionally well."
They sat silent while the crashing opening chords rang out from the
lighted room, and then Nasmyth, who was a lover of music, found
himself listening with a strained attention as the theme stole out of
them, for it chimed with his mood. He had been restless and disturbed
in mind before Gordon had flung his veiled hints at him, and the
reality underlying his comrade's badinage had a further unsettling
effect. He did not know what the music was, but it seemed in keeping
with the throb of the sea against the crag and the fitful wailing of
the pines. There was a suggestion of effort and struggle in it, and,
it seemed to him, something that spoke of a great dominant force
steadily pressing on; and, as he listened, the splash of the sea grew
fainter, and he heard instead the roar of the icy flood and the crash
of mighty trees driving down upon his half-built dam. These were
sounds which sometimes haunted him against his will, and once or twice
he had been a little surprised to find that, now that they were past,
he could look back upon the months of tense effort with a curious,
half-regretful pleasure. He was relieved when the music, that swelled
in a sonorous crescendo, stopped, and he saw Gordon glance at
Wisbech.
"I think that man has understanding and the gift of expressing what he
feels," said Wisbech. "The music suggested something to you?"
"The fast freight," confessed Gordon.--"When she's coming down the big
canyon under a full head of steam. I don't know if that's quite an
elegant simile, in one way. Still, if you care to think how that
track was built, it's not difficult to fancy there's triumph in the
whistles and the roar of the freight-car wheels."
Wisbech made a sign of comprehension, and Gordon looked hard at
Nasmyth. "It's your call."
"I heard the river," said Nasmyth. "In fact, I often hear it, and now
and then wish I didn't. It's unsettling."
Gordon laughed in a suggestive fashion. "Well," he declared, "most of
us hear something of that kind at times, and no doubt it's just as
well we do. It's apt to have results if you listen. You have been most
of a month in the city one way or another. You took to it kindly?"
"I didn't," Nasmyth answered, and it was evident that he was serious.
"I came back here feeling that I had had quite enough of it."
"Bonavista is a good deal more pleasant?" And there was a certain
meaning in Gordon's tone. "You seemed to have achieved some social
success here, too."
He saw the flush in Nasmyth's face, and his gaze grew insistent.
"Well," he said, "you're not going to let that content you, now you
can hear the river. You'll hear it more and more plainly frothing in
the black canyon where the big trees come down. You have lived with the
exiles, and the wilderness has got its grip on you. What's more, I
guess when it does that it never quite lets go."
He broke off abruptly, and just then Acton stepped out from the
window. "Mr. Gordon," he said, "it's my wife's wish that you should
come in and sing."
Gordon said that he was in Mrs. Acton's hands, and then turned to
Nasmyth.
"I've had my say," he observed. "If there's any meaning in my remarks,
you can worry it out."
He went away with Acton, and Wisbech looked at his nephew over his
cigar.
"Mr. Gordon expresses himself in a rather extravagant fashion, but I'm
disposed to fancy there is something in what he says," he commented.
Nasmyth did not answer him. He was, on the whole, glad that Gordon had
gone, but he still seemed to hear the river, and the restlessness that
had troubled him was becoming stronger. He retired somewhat early, but
he did not sleep quite so soundly as usual that night. As it happened,
Gordon rose before him next morning. Gordon went out of doors, and
presently came upon Miss Hamilton, who was strolling bareheaded where
the early sunshine streamed in among the pines. It struck him that he
was not the person whom she would have been most pleased to see, but
she walked with him to the crown of the promontory, where she stopped
and looked up at him steadily.
"Mr. Gordon," she inquired, "what is Laura Waynefleet?"
Gordon started, and the girl smiled.
"I crossed the veranda last night," she told him, when he hesitated
before answering her.
The man looked down on her with an unusual gravity. "Well," he said
simply, "Laura Waynefleet is quietness, and sweetness, and courage. In
fact, I sometimes think it was to make these things evident that she
was sent into this world."
He thought he saw a gleam of comprehension in the girl's eyes, and
made a gesture of protest. "No," he assured her, "I'm not fit to brush
her little shoes. For that matter, though he is my comrade, Nasmyth
isn't either. What is perhaps more to the purpose, I guess he is quite
aware of it."
A delicate tinge of colour crept into Violet Hamilton's face, and the
man realized that in case his suppositions were correct, what he had
implied could hardly be considered as a compliment. He could also
fancy that there was a certain uneasiness in her eyes.
"Ah," she said, "perhaps it is a subject I should not have ventured to
inquire into."
Gordon smiled reassuringly. "I don't know of any reason why you
shouldn't have done so, but I have scarcely told you anything about
her yet. Miss Waynefleet lives at a desolate ranch in the Bush.
Sometimes she drives oxen, and I believe she invariably makes her own
clothes. I don't think Nasmyth would feel any great diffidence in
speaking about her."
He believed this, or at least he strove to convince himself that he
did, but he was relieved when the appearance of Acton, who strolled
towards them, rendered any further confidential conversation out of
the question. Gordon set out for Victoria that afternoon, and Nasmyth,
who went with him to the railroad, returned to Bonavista in a restless
mood, and almost disposed to be angry with his comrade for having
rudely broken in upon his tranquillity. In fact, he felt disinclined
to face his fellow-guests, which was one reason why he was sauntering
towards the inlet when he came upon Wisbech sitting with a book in the
shadow of the pines. Wisbech looked up at his moody face.
"You are annoyed because Gordon wouldn't stay?" he suggested.
"No," said Nasmyth. "In fact, I'm a little relieved that he has gone
away. I naturally like Gordon, but just now he has an unsettling
effect on me."
Wisbech made a gesture of comprehension. "That man," he said, "is in
some respects fortunate. He has a simple programme, and is evidently
more or less content with it. His work is plain in front of him. You
are not quite sure about yours yet. To some extent, you feel yourself
adrift?"
"I have felt something of the kind."
Wisbech thought for a moment. "I suppose," he said, "it hasn't
occurred to you that your classical features--they're Nasmyth
features--might be of some assistance to you in your career?"
Nasmyth felt the blood rise into his face, but he laughed. "They
certainly haven't proved of any great benefit to me hitherto. It is
scarcely likely that they will do so either in the canyon."
"Then you are still determined on directing operations in person? I
was commencing to wonder if you had any reason for modifying your
plans."
The man's tone was dry, but Nasmyth met his gaze, which was now
inquisitive.
"If it is in my power to do it, I shall certainly run the water out of
the valley," said Nasmyth.
Then he swung round and strolled away, while Wisbech smiled in a
fashion which suggested that he was pleased. It was some little time
later when Nasmyth, pacing moodily over the white shingle beside the
winding inlet, came upon Violet Hamilton sitting in the shadow of a
great boulder. The girl's light dress matched the rock's pale tinting,
and he did not see her until he was within a yard or two of her. He
stopped abruptly, with a deepened colour in his face. Violet made a
sign, which seemed to invite him to sit down, and he stretched himself
out upon the shingle close in front of her.
"It is very hot in the house this afternoon, but it is cool and quiet
here," she observed.
Nasmyth glanced at the still water and the shadow that the pines which
clung in the crevices flung athwart the dark rock's side.
"Stillness sometimes means stagnation. Miss Hamilton," he said.
The girl flashed a quick glance at him. "Well," she rejoined, "I
suppose it does; but, after all, that is a question we need not
discuss. What were you thinking of so hard as you came along? You
didn't see me until you almost stepped upon my dress."
"That," said Nasmyth, with a laugh, "is proof that I was thinking very
hard indeed. It's not a thing I often indulge in, but I was thinking
of the Bush."
"You sometimes feel you would like to be back there?"
"No," answered Nasmyth reflectively; "I suppose I ought to feel that,
but I'm not sure that I do."
"Ah," Violet remarked, "you have told me a good deal at one time or
another about your life and friends there, but I almost fancied now
and then that you were keeping something back. After all"--and she
smiled at him--"I suppose that would have been only natural."
Nasmyth raised himself on one elbow, and looked hard at her. "Well,"
he admitted, "there was one thing I did not tell you, though I had
meant to do so sooner or later. You see, there was nothing to warrant
it in the meanwhile."
"Ah," queried the girl, "it concerns Miss Waynefleet?"
Nasmyth's face grew suddenly grave. He did not ask himself how she
came to know. Indeed, for the time being, that did not seem to matter.
There was, it seemed, only one course open to him, and he adopted it.
"Yes," he answered, "I will tell you about her."
He had meant to be brief and matter-of-fact in his narrative, but as
he proceeded, the subject carried him away. Indeed, he was scarcely
conscious that Miss Hamilton was intently watching him, for once more
he seemed to feel Laura Waynefleet's eyes fixed upon his face, and
they were clear and brave and still. He spoke with a certain dramatic
force, and it was a somewhat striking picture he drew of the girl.
Violet could realize her personality and the self-denying life that
she led. It is possible that Nasmyth had told her more than he
intended, when he broke off for a moment with a startling abruptness.
"I believe she saved my life," he added. "She certainly gave me back
my courage, and set me on my feet again."
Violet looked at him with a strained expression in her eyes. "And
because of that she will have a hold upon you while you live."
Nasmyth seemed to consider this. "I think I shall always realize what
I owe to her. Still--and how shall I say it?--that recognition is the
most I would venture to offer, or that she would accept from me."
He stopped for a moment, and then went on a trifle hastily. "Laura
Waynefleet could never have taken more than a half-compassionate
interest in me," he asserted. "There could scarcely be any doubt upon
that point."
"You said half-compassionate?"
"Yes," replied Nasmyth; "I almost think that describes it. You see, I
am naturally aware of my own disabilities."
"Still," persisted Violet, "she nursed you when you were very ill,
and, as you said, set you on your feet again. That would probably
count for a good deal with her."
Nasmyth made a hasty gesture. "You don't understand. She would no
doubt have taken pity on any dumb creature. She did it because she
could not help it. One could fancy that kind of thing was born in
her."
Violet did not speak for a moment or two. Although it still remained
uncertain whether the girl in the Bush had any tenderness for the man
she had set upon his feet again, he had spoken of her in a manner
which did not quite please Violet.
"Well," she ventured, with a little diffident glance at him, "some day
you will go back into the Bush."
Nasmyth nodded. "Yes," he said, "I think that's certain. In fact, it's
probable that I shall go back very soon. As it happens, I have
undertaken a big and rather difficult thing, which will give me a
considerable lift up if I am successful."
He lay silent for a minute before he turned to her again. "You see, I
have been some time in this country, and never have done anything
worth mentioning. Chopping trees and driving cattle are no doubt
useful occupations, but they don't lead to anything. I feel that I am,
so to speak, on my probation. I have still to win my spurs."
"I wonder if that is one of the ideas Miss Waynefleet gave you?"
Nasmyth smiled. "I really believe it originated with her, but, as a
matter of fact, it might have gone no further, which is an admission.
Still, the desire to win those spurs has been growing so strong of
late that I can't resist it. In one way, I scarcely think that is very
astonishing."
Violet looked away from him, for she saw the gleam in his eyes, and
fancied she understood what the new motive he had hinted at might be.
Still, he did not appear disposed to mention it.
"Then you would have to go away?" she asked.
A flush crept into Nasmyth's face. She was a woman of his own caste,
and probably without intending it, she had shown him in many ways that
she was not averse from him. He felt his heart beat fast when for a
moment she met his gaze.
"The trouble is that if I do not go I shall never have the right to
come back again," he told her.
"Then," replied the girl very softly, "you wish to come back?"
"That is why I am going. There are those spurs to win. I have to make
my mark."
"But it is sometimes a little difficult to make one's mark, isn't it?
You may be ever so long, and it must be a little hazardous in that
horrible canyon."
"If it gives me the right to come back, I think it will be very well
worth while."
"But suppose you don't succeed, after all?"
"That," admitted Nasmyth, "is a thing I daren't contemplate, because,
if it happened, it is scarcely likely that any of my friends at
Bonavista would ever be troubled with me again."
Violet looked away from him. "Ah," she said, "don't you think that
would be a little hard on them? Is it very easy for you to go away?"
The restraint Nasmyth had imposed upon himself suddenly deserted him.
He moved a little nearer to her, and seized one of her hands. She sat
still, and made no effort to draw it away from him.
"I had never meant to say what I am going to say just now," he
declared. "I had meant to wait until there was something successfully
accomplished to my credit. I am, you see, a thriftless, wandering
adventurer--one who has taken things as they came, and never has been
serious. When I have shown that I can also be something else, I shall
ask you formally if you will marry me. Until then the thing is, of
course, out of the question."
He broke off for a moment, and held her silent by a gesture until he
went on again. "I have been swept away, and even if you were willing
to make it, I would take no promise from you. Until I have won the
right to come back you must be absolutely free. Now you know this, it
would be very much wiser if I went away as soon as possible."
"Ah," the girl answered with a thrill in her voice, "whenever you come
back you will find me ready to listen to you."
Nasmyth let her hand go. "Now," he asserted, "I think I cannot fail.
Still, it must be remembered that you are absolutely free."
He would have said something more, but there was just then a laugh and
a patter of feet on the path above, and, looking up, he saw two of
Mrs. Acton's guests descending the bluff.