She stood for an instant, framed in the opening of the trees, her
eyes bright, her lips parted, her cheeks pink with the exertion of
picking the berries. Both her hands were full of the fruit.
"Oh, good morning!" she said shyly before he could think what to say,
"I hope I didn't waken you. I am sure you needed to sleep longer."
His eyes glowed with admiration, and he stood startled at her beauty,
marvelling that she had accomplished a toilet with so little at her
command.
"How about you?" he said, watching her with admiring glance, "You
didn't need any sleep at all, I suppose. You were just about all in
last night and no mistake."
"Yes, I guess I was," she answered penitently, "and I'm afraid I gave
you a lot of trouble, not being able to walk when I should. I can
never thank you enough! You saved my life, of course! I never
should have got to shore----"
"Forget it!" he said with a smile, "it was nothing."
"And you had to carry me a long distance, I am sure you did. I can
remember a long time when I know I was not walking. You must be worn
out!"
"Why, you're not heavy," he said amusedly, eyeing her slender frame.
"I could carry you a good deal farther than that and not play out.
I'm glad to see you look so rested this morning. I didn't expect it
after what you went through. I see you have your nerve with you. It
was a pretty nervy thing you did, you know, that stunt of dropping
out the window. I had just got out myself further down and climbed
on shore to see if there was anything I could do for anyone, when I
saw you drop, and I thought you were gone for sure. There were rocks
and timbers all around there and heavy things falling, and I thought
I saw your finish."
"And so you came and rescued me!" she said, with a look of gratitude
that brought a flush over his strong, tanned face.
"Oh, I just floated over that way to see if I could pick up anybody.
I couldn't tell who I was fishing out when I took hold of you, there
were so many sounds and things around."
"Well, I--I can't thank you enough now," she said, and there was a
glisten of tears in her eyes. "I know it was wonderful what you did."
"Oh, forget it!" he said again, laughing lightly. "It was bad enough
all around, and we were lucky to get off as we did. But we aren't
out of the woods yet. We'd better let bygones be bygones for the
present anyway. Don't you want to sit down?"
Jean smilingly acquiesced, dropping down beside the rock with her
berries, and leaning over to arrange them with the rest.
"These ought to be washed," she said as she arranged them on the leaf
plate in the centre, "but I couldn't find any water."
"Water won't be so hard to find, but we haven't anything to put it
in," he answered laughing, "and besides, we oughtn't to mind a little
dirt after all we've been through. I doubt if the berries I usually
get are washed anyway. But if I had anything to carry it in, I'd
find some water. I haven't even a hat----"
"Why, I had a little drinking cup, but I don't remember whether it's
in my bag or not. Perhaps I put it in the suit case, though I think
I left it in my bag."
She laid down the last berries, and wiping the stains from her
fingers on the grass she opened the bag which she had slipped through
the belt of her robe and made to hang at her side. It was rather
full and when it was opened the leather wallet, wrapped in its damp
paper, fell out on the ground, and the paper came unfolded, revealing
what it contained.
The young man stooped gravely, a dark flush rising to his cheeks, and
picked it up. He did not look startled nor surprised and she noticed
nothing strange in his manner as he handed it to her. Afterward she
wondered at that.
The cup did not materialize, but there were the two little wax paper
envelopes, which might hold water. She held them out to him, and
looking up, their eyes met.
"Why, you are the man who sat opposite to me in the day coach," she
said in pleased surprise, "I didn't recognize you before without your
hat on. But I remember thinking when I went to the other car that
you had a face that one need not be afraid of. I was a little
frightened by the old man who sat with you--he spoke to me--but when
I saw you I was not afraid any more. Mother says I'm always going by
my intuitions, but I think this time you've proved them true. I knew
you were a person to be trusted."
He looked at her wonderingly, a strange expression of wistfulness
crossing his face.
"People don't often feel that way about me," he said in a strange low
tone that seemed to hide a good deal more behind the words than was
said. "I guess you're the first person who has trusted me in a long
time."
"Oh," she said, looking at him seriously, "I guess you don't know--or
else--" she paused as if in doubt whether to finish the sentence.
"Or else what, please?" he asked with compelling gaze.
"I was going to say or else they don't know you; but that sounds
rather bold for a stranger to say when I've only known you a few
hours. But I've had opportunity to prove that what I thought about
you was true. Perhaps it's that you do not always let people see the
nice things in you the way you have had to let me because of my need."
"Well, that's a new way of painting my character, I must say. I
rather like it myself but I doubt if anybody would recognize it for
me. I wouldn't mind being that way, believe me, and I thank you for
sizing me up in that style. I'll think it over, but I'm afraid
you've got your characters mixed and I'm not in your line at all.
However, I'm glad you think so. Now I'll see what I can do about
water."
He took the two envelopes as if they had been cut glass goblets and
walked away into the woods. In a few minutes he returned with them
dripping, his own face ruddy with recent washing, and his curls still
damp and dark above his forehead; while the strong hands that held
the would-be cups were clean as water could make them.
"Would you like to wash your face?" he asked as he held out the cup
for her to drink. "Never mind the berries, they are all right as
they are. I'll show you the water and then come back to guard the
food. We don't know what wild creature may find our table and clear
out with the whole set-out."
"Oh, would they do that?" laughed Jean, interested. "Wouldn't that
be funny?"
"It might not be so funny if we don't strike a ranch pretty soon,"
said Holt, looking serious. "We need all that breakfast to help us
on our way after the night we've spent."
"I will not wash my face until after breakfast," said Jean decidedly,
coming back to the rock and seating herself by one of the
leaf-plates. "Sit down, please, and break your fast for we are not
running any risks on this trip. I want to get to a telegraph office
and send word to my mother and father. They will hear about the
accident and will be terribly frightened about me. You won't mind my
eating with unwashed hands, will you?"
"I should worry!" declared Holt, seating himself on the other side of
the rock with the ease of one who is as much at home on the ground as
on a chair.
"These crackers are a little limp," said Jean, "but it was the best I
could do considering that they were submerged for a long time."
"They're great," said Holt, sampling one, "but how did you happen to
have them?"
She told him merrily of her visit the day before and how she had
saved them.
"They're all you have!" said Holt suddenly, "you may need the rest of
them before we are through. Put these away and keep them till you
need them. I'll just eat the berries. I'm used to going without for
a long time."
"Wasn't your life the only one you had when you risked it to save
me?" asked Jean, looking at him earnestly. "I guess you'll get half
of all there is or I won't have any."
Holt looked at her admiringly.
"That's all right, but I'd rather you saved them. You're a woman."
"That may be all right, but I won't," said Jean decidedly, "and I
won't eat another bite until you eat yours."
He looked at her with the glow of appreciation growing in his eyes.
He never had seen a girl like this.
"You're all white!" he said at last. "You're the real thing. You're
a good fellow. I guess we're partners, then."
He held out his hand as he would have done to a man, and the girl,
with a quick appreciation of his words, laid her small berry-stained
hand in the big, hard one.
"Thank you," she said earnestly, "That rather puts us on an equality,
doesn't it? But I'm not so foolish as to think we really are. I
know it's only a very little bit that I can do on this expedition.
You do all the big, grand, hard things. But you mustn't deny me the
chance to do the little things I can do; and sharing, or even going
without sometimes, belongs to my part. I haven't forgotten yet that
you saved my life."
He looked at the little hand wonderingly and held it gently in his
own, with just a slight, lingering, wistful closing of his strong
fingers around it; then let it go as though he were afraid he might
crush it, it seemed to him so frail and exquisite and fine.
"I can tell you one thing," he said, "you're some improvement on the
last partner I had." Jean gave him a swift, relieved look. "That
horrid old man?" she asked comprehendingly. He nodded, but searched
her face keenly, as if he would make sure of something. He seemed
satisfied, however, with the frank look in her clear eyes and said no
more. Perhaps he hoped she would confide in him--or perhaps he liked
her all the better that she did not--who knows? They ate their
meagre breakfast hungrily, yet lingered over it happily. The morning
seemed to each as an exquisite treasure of time loaned to them for
this once, and there fell a charm upon them that neither quite
understood; only they were conscious of joy in being alive and having
each other. The experiences of the night and the unusual
surroundings did away with all conventionalities and feelings of
embarrassment they would otherwise have had in their strange plight;
and their laughter mingled and rang out among the trees joyously on
that early beautiful morning after the disaster.
He led her down to the stream to wash while he made a basket of
leaves, pinned together with stems, and filled it full of berries.
"We may need them for dinner," he remarked as he went back to the
bushes.
Jean finished her ablutions, and, washing out her handkerchief,
filled it also with berries; and thus provided with a lunch, they
started on their way.
After coming out of the woods they climbed first to the highest point
of ground near them and surveyed the landscape in every direction,
but nothing more serene on a summer morning could be found anywhere
than was before them. Turn which way they would there was no sign of
disaster or wreck. The soft, green hills on every side hid the
secret of its location, and the world lay spread before them without
a hint of ravage or distress. There was absolutely no way to tell
direction except in a general way by the sun; and where the wreck had
been it was impossible even to speculate, for they could not tell how
they had come in the darkness.
This gave a new aspect to their situation. Holt had been thinking
during the night that if they could work their way back to the wreck
they would probably reach home more quickly, for surely by this time
a relief train must have come. But now he saw that it was useless to
consider that longer. They must just press on till they came to a
house, where possibly they could procure horses, and certainly
information as to their whereabouts. There was a reason why he
wished to get back to the world as quickly as possible; yet something
taught him to be glad that necessity had given him this day or part
of a day, whichever it was to be, with this girl.
He looked down almost tenderly at the bright, trusting face that
smiled up at him so bravely. He had a sudden comprehending glimpse
of what it must be to a girl, such as he could see she was, to be
dropped down into a strange world, far from home and protection, in
company with a man about whom she knew nothing.
"Tough luck," he said, answering the question in her eyes, "but don't
you worry, we'll get out sooner or later."
"I'm not worrying," she answered earnestly, "but I was wishing we
knew how to send a wireless to my father. I wonder if some day they
won't perfect the system so that people can send messages from
anywhere without any instruments, if they just know how."
"That would be great," said Holt, thoughtfully, "I'd send one this
minute to the nearest inhabited point for two good saddle horses.
Can you ride?"
"A little. I've never had much opportunity. Father used to keep a
horse, but when we moved to our present home he had to give it up.
There wasn't really any need for it. But I'm to ride while I'm away
visiting my sister." Her face brightened at the thought, and then
clouded. "That is if we ever get there----"
"Oh, we'll get there all right," said Holt easily, taking his
bearings and deciding which way to strike out. "You're Mrs.
Harrington's sister, aren't you?"
"Why yes, how did you know?" said the girl with a ring of relief in
her voice. "You know my sister, then?" This was almost equivalent
to an introduction, and she knew her mother would be particular about
that.
"I heard you tell the conductor," he said. "Shall we start? We've
got a good journey to travel judging by the look of things. This
way," and he led her down the slope out into the open where they
could see where they were going.
"But you wouldn't have remembered all this time if you hadn't known
who she was," she flashed back, smiling. "How pleased Eleanor will
be when she knows one of her own friends took care of me and saved my
life."
Holt's face darkened suddenly and he did not answer at once. When he
did his voice was cold and hard like a sudden storm on a sunny day.
"I don't think she'd exactly call me her friend!"
His eyes were narrowed, and his chin was set with a haughty lift.
"Well, acquaintance, then," said Jean brightly. "Eleanor is a lot
older than you, of course. She was married and went away from home
when I was just a tiny girl. I haven't seen her all these years, and
of course she's changed a great deal."
"Yes, I suppose you'd call us acquainted," answered Holt, still in
that queer, hard voice. Jean felt it intuitively, but talked on,
feeling her way to surer ground.
"I wonder if my sister has ever mentioned you in her letters," she
said brightly. "She tells me about all the people."
"Possibly!" You could have cut ice with the sharpness of his tone.
Then he added quietly:
"My name is Holt. Jasper Holt!"
He watched her with wide challenging eyes, but although there was a
puzzled look in her face the name evidently told her nothing.
"Jasper! What a beautiful name! I always thought that was the most
beautiful word. The walls of the heavenly city are built of jasper,
you know."
"No, I didn't know," he spoke slowly, almost worshipfully. This
truly was a new kind of girl. A citizen, more like, of that heavenly
city about which she spoke with such assurance as if it were an
actual place, than like a mortal girl. His face was softened, made
tender, as he looked at her, and saw the morning shining in her eyes.
His haughtiness fell away, and all the goodness and native truth and
purity that were hidden in his soul came out and sat upon his face.
The people who thought they knew Jasper Holt would not have
recognized him thus, walking beside the girl and looking down upon
her as one looks upon the face of an angel.
Jean looked up, seeing in him only the beauty of his true self; and
looking, trusted, and was not afraid.