AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE
Millicent had no intention of going to sleep among the rocks, but after a
while she grew drowsy, and when at length she raised her head with a
start the moon hung over the hills across the river, flooding the heights
above her with a silvery light. The trees below were sharper in form, but
everything was very still; only the thunder of the fall seemed to have
increased in depth of tone. Millicent shivered from the cold as she sent
a sharp cry ringing across the woods.
This time it was answered, and she recognized the voice. Looking down,
she could see Lisle's black figure moving cautiously along the ledge, for
although the lower rocks were wrapped in shadow it is never altogether
dark in the northern summer. Coming out into the moonlight, he examined
the slab of rock which had arrested her descent, but when he spoke she
was not quite pleased with his very matter-of-fact tone. It left
something to be desired--she thought he might have displayed more
satisfaction at finding her safe.
"Is there anything you could catch hold of at the top?" he asked. "If so,
you'd better lower yourself until I can reach you."
Anxious as she was to get down, Millicent hesitated; if she did as he
suggested she would descend into his arms. She was not unduly prudish,
and indeed, after being left alone in the impressive solitude of the
wilds, she would have been glad of the reassuring grasp of a human being.
But an obscure feeling, springing, perhaps, from primitive instincts,
made her shrink from close contact with this particular man.
"No," she answered coldly; "the rock is loose. Besides, the ledge is
narrow, and if I came down heavily, we might both fall over."
He again examined the slab, and then stood still, considering.
"Well," he decided, "there's a crack some way up that should give me a
hold, and a bit of a projection you could rest a foot on yonder. Then if
you gave me one hand, I could lower you down."
He came up, thrusting his fingers into a fissure near the summit and
finding a tiny support for his toes. Lowering herself cautiously, she
clutched the hand he extended.
"Now," he cautioned, "as gently as possible!"
Loosing her hold above, she hung for a moment or two, half afraid to let
go his hand, while his arm and body grew tense with the strain and she
could hear his labored breath. Summoning her courage she relaxed her
grasp. In another second she was safe upon the ledge, and, scrambling
down, he stood beside her with a set, flushed face, the veins protruding
on his forehead.
"I'm glad that's over; I was badly scared," he acknowledged.
She thrilled at the confession, though she thought there had been no
serious risk; his concern for her safety was strangely pleasant and the
strenuous grasp of his fingers had stirred her.
"Oh," she replied, "I believe I was quite safe after you got hold of me."
He glanced at the steep face of broken rock that ran down into the
shadow.
"If we'd gone over, we might not have brought up for a while," he said.
"But what's that resting on yonder jutting stone?"
"I'm sorry it's my sketch-book," Millicent answered unguardedly. "It's
nearly filled."
"Then wait here a little."
"You can't get it!" Millicent cried sharply. "You mustn't try!"
"It's quite easy."
Millicent could not resist the temptation to make a rather dangerous
experiment.
"And yet you were afraid a minute or two ago!"
"Yes," he answered, looking at her steadily. "But that was different."
She felt her heart-beats quicken and her face grow hot, but she laid a
restraining hand on his arm.
"I won't let you go."
"You must be reasonable," he urged, moving a pace away. "That book stands
for a good deal of high-grade work. If you lose it, you will have wasted
all the first part of your journey. Besides, I should feel very mean if I
left it lying there."
He lowered himself over the edge, and moving from cranny to cranny and
stone to stone, went cautiously down, while she watched him with her
hands closed tight. What the actual peril was she could not estimate; but
it looked appallingly dangerous, particularly when in one place he had to
descend from a slightly overhanging stone. He reached the book, however,
and came up, and when at length he stood beside her his expression was
quite normal and he was only a little breathless. Again she felt a
disconcerting thrill which was accompanied by a confused sense of pride.
What he had done was in her service, and this time he had shown no sign
of fear or strain.
"Thank you," she said. "But I'm a little angry--you shouldn't have gone.
I should never have forgiven myself if you had got hurt."
There was light enough to show that the blood crept into his face; but he
turned and glanced at the descending ledge.
"You had better put your hand on my shoulder where it's steep," he
suggested. "Still, we're not going to have much trouble in getting down."
They had reached level ground before anything more was said, and then she
turned to him with a smile.
"Why didn't you come before? You left me an unpleasantly long while among
the rocks."
"We didn't miss you until supper," he explained. "Then I set off at once,
but I didn't know which way to look and the bush was pretty thick."
Stopping in the moonlight, he indicated his rent attire. "I think this
speaks for itself," he added humorously. "There's one consolation--the
things belong to Carew."
Millicent was glad that he was not going to be serious.
"I remember that you didn't bring much of an outfit," she replied. "I
suppose you had one. What became of it?"
"I left it behind, in pieces, on the thorns and rocks along a good many
leagues of trail; but it wasn't extensive--when you travel in this
country you have often to choose between food and clothes. It was
obviously impossible to buy any more, but the day before we reached camp
I made Crestwick cut my hair. After a look at myself in Nasmyth's
pocket-glass, I'm inclined to think he was unwarrantably proud of his
success."
After that they chatted lightly, until they walked into the glow of the
camp-fire, and while Bella and Miss Hume plied Millicent with questions
and congratulations, Lisle took up Nasmyth's repeating rifle and fired it
several times.
"That will bring the boys in," he explained. "Now I'll get Miss
Gladwyne's supper."
During the meal the others came back and when they had all assembled,
looking the worse for their scramble through the bush, Crestwick, who had
occasional lapses from good behavior, addressed them collectively.
"Wasn't I right?" he asked. "I offered anybody three to one that Lisle
would be the first to find her."
"Then you ought to be ashamed of it, after the expensive way in which
your confidence in your opinions has often been shown to be mistaken,"
declared Bella. "Besides, you promised me you wouldn't waste your money
that way again!"
"This time I was backing a moral certainty," Crestwick rejoined. "That
isn't gambling; if you're not convinced, you can ask the others on what
grounds they were so unwilling to take me."
Receiving no encouragement, he addressed Millicent, who was extremely
vexed with him.
"I suppose you know that you have given us all a good deal of anxiety.
You ought to feel contrite."
"I'm not sorry if I've given you a good deal of trouble," Millicent
retorted. "You were a long time in coming to my rescue."
"That," he exclaimed, "is just the kind of thing Bella used to delight in
saying, though I'll own that she's been much more civil lately. It's
possible that Carew's patience is not so long as mine."
"Aren't you getting rather personal?" Carew hinted.
Crestwick subsided with an indulgent grimace, but when they retired to
their shelter Lisle turned upon him.
"It struck me that those jokes of yours were in what you would call
uncommonly bad form," he said. "It would be better if you didn't make any
more of them."
"Bella doesn't mind; she's used to me," Crestwick grinned.
"I wasn't referring to Bella--she has somebody to take care of her."
"And Miss Gladwyne hasn't? Still, that's her own fault, isn't it? In my
opinion, she has only to say the word." He paused, seeing his companion's
face in the moonlight, for its expression was not encouraging. "Oh,
well!" he added, "you needn't lose your temper. There are people who can
never see when a thing's humorous; I'll wind up."
In the meanwhile Millicent sat in the entrance of her tent, looking out
between the dark trunks of the cedars on the glittering river. It sluiced
by, lapping noisily upon the shingle, lined with streaks of froth, and
the roar of the neighboring fall filled the lonely gorge. The wildness of
her surroundings had its charm; she had been happier among them than she
had been at any time during the last twelve months in England, and now
she was uneasily conscious of the reason. Lisle's constant watchfulness
over her comfort, his cheery conversation, even the sight of him when he
was too busy to talk, were strangely pleasant. She realized why she had
made him take the harder way in helping her down from the rock and the
knowledge was disconcerting. She had been afraid to trust herself to the
clasp of his arms, but not because of any want of confidence in him.
Then she saw Carew kiss Bella among the cedars before she left him to
walk toward the tent, and the sight stirred her blood. It was clear that
she must be on her guard; her guide must be kept firmly at a distance,
though this promised to be difficult. She was, to all intents and
purposes, pledged to Clarence; and until Bella joined her she tried to
fix her thoughts on him, wondering where he was and what he was doing,
without being able to find much interest in the question.
As it happened, Clarence was then sitting in a luxurious parlor-car as a
big west-bound train sped through the forests of Ontario, but his face
was troubled and he felt ill at ease. A little more than a fortnight
earlier he had met Marple at a Swiss hotel, and the man had informed him
that Miss Gladwyne and Miss Hume had sailed for Canada. Nasmyth, he
added, had gone by a previous steamer, to make arrangements for some
journey they wished to undertake. This was the first intimation Clarence
had received. Millicent had written to him on the day before she sailed,
but the letter, following him to one of the Italian valleys, had not yet
reached him, and he was filled with consternation. She had stolen away,
as if she did not wish to be burdened with his company; she was going to
visit the scene of her brother's death, no doubt under the guidance of
Lisle, who had strong suspicions concerning it. He might communicate them
to Millicent; perhaps he had done so already, which would account for her
silent departure. With an effort Gladwyne roused himself to action. He
made up his mind to follow her and, if necessary, attempt some defense.
Perhaps, he thought, he could manage to destroy any evidence of his
treachery which the Canadian had discovered.
Still, he was tormented by doubts as he lounged in the parlor-car, and,
growing restless, he went out on the rear platform and lighted a cigar.
There was faint moonlight, and dim trees fled past him; the rattle of
wheels and the rush of the cool wind was soothing. He could not think
while he stood holding on by the brass rail to protect himself against
the lurching, and he found a relief in the roar as the great train swept
across a foaming river. They had been detained at a junction during the
afternoon, and the engineer was evidently bent on making up the wasted
time.
Presently the door of the next car opened, and Gladwyne started violently
as a dark figure came out on to the platform.
"Batley!" he cried. "What in the name of wonder has brought you here!"
Batley moving forward into the moonlight, regarded him with a mocking
smile.
"Nothing very remarkable; I'd several motives. For one thing, I felt I'd
like the trip--had a stroke of luck not long ago which justified the
expense. British Columbia's nowadays almost as accessible as parts of
Norway, where I've generally gone to, and I understand it's wilder."
"But how is it I haven't seen you on the train?" Gladwyne asked, in no
way reassured by the man's careless explanation.
"I only got on at the last junction." Batley's tone was significant as he
proceeded. "I was too late for your Allan boat; when I inquired about you
in London I found that you had gone; but I caught the next New York
Cunarder and came on by Buffalo. I suppose you stopped a day or two in
Montreal, which explains how I've overtaken you."
"We were held up by ice off Newfoundland."
"Well," suggested Batley, "suppose we go into the smoking end of the car.
I dare say you'd like a talk and it's rather noisy here. Besides, the
cinders are a little too plentiful."
They went in and Batley, lounging in a seat, lighted a cigar and waited
with an amused expression for the other to begin. Gladwyne was intensely
uneasy. It had been a vast relief to be free from his companion, and the
last thing he desired was that Batley, who was a remarkably keen-witted
man, should go over the track of George's expedition in company with
Lisle.
"Now," he said, "I'd be glad if you would tell me exactly why you
followed me. The reason you gave didn't seem sufficient."
"Then my other object ought to be clear. You're carrying a good deal of
my money; I felt it would be wiser to keep an eye on you. As I said, I'd
had a stroke of luck that enabled me to get away."
"I suppose that means somebody has suffered!" Gladwyne, in his
bitterness, could not help the injudicious sneer.
"Oh, no," returned Batley good-humoredly. "In this case, I'd set a man on
his feet--it's now and then as profitable as pulling one down, and my
methods aren't always destructive. The fellow was straight and I'm
inclined to believe he was grateful. I don't think he could have found
anybody else to back him, but I'm not afraid of a risk." He paused and
smiled at his companion. "Sometimes I make mistakes; I did so with you."
Gladwyne flushed, but Batley proceeded:
"I may remind you that when I financed you I was led to believe that you
would succeed to a handsome property; not one that was stripped of its
working capital. I'll give you credit for misleading me rather cleverly.
All this is to the point, because it explains my watchful attitude.
You're the kind of man I prefer to keep in sight."
Disgust, humiliation and anger possessed Gladwyne, but he knew that he
was in his companion's hands, and he did not think that Batley had stated
all of his reasons yet. It was possible that he expected to discover
something in British Columbia that would strengthen his hold on his
victim.
"Well," he replied with an attempt at calmness, "we needn't quarrel,
since it looks as if we'd have to put up with each other for some time.
Have you finished what you have to say?"
"Not quite. There's one question yet. When do you expect to marry Miss
Gladwyne?"
"What is that to you?" Clarence broke out.
"Just this--I'm anxious to form some idea as to when I'm likely to get my
money back. Since Miss Crestwick dropped you, there's only Miss Gladwyne
available, so far as I know, and you have got to marry money and do so
pretty soon. I'm willing to do anything that may help on the match."
Gladwyne's face burned, he looked savage, but Batley continued to watch
him with an ironical smile.
"I don't want to drive you too hard, but I'm only stating an obvious
fact," he concluded. "Now I'll leave you to think it over while I
interview the porter of the sleeping-car."