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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16398-8.txt b/16398-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0986498 --- /dev/null +++ b/16398-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16885 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, What Necessity Knows, by Lily Dougall + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: What Necessity Knows + + +Author: Lily Dougall + + + +Release Date: July 30, 2005 [eBook #16398] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS*** + + +E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Graeme Mackreth, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) from +page images generously made available by Early Canadiana Online +(http://www.canadiana.org/eco/index.html) + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through + Early Canadiana Online. See + http://www.canadiana.org/ECO/ItemRecord/05750?id=1a6d608d0d7d6b5e + + + + + +WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS + +by + +L. DOUGALL + +Author of "Beggars All," etc + +New York +Longmans, Green, and Co. +15 East Sixteenth Street +Typography by J.S. Cushing & Co., Boston. + +1893 + + + + + + + +TO MY BROTHER +JOHN REDPATH DOUGALL +THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED +WITH REVERENCE AND AFFECTION + +PREFACE. + + +One episode of this story may need a word of explanation. It is reported +that while the "Millerite" or Adventist excitement of 1843 was agitating +certain parts of North America, in one place at least a little band of +white-robed people ascended a hill in sure expectation of the Second +Advent, and patiently returned to be the laughing stock of their +neighbours. This tradition, as I heard it in my childhood, was repeated +as if it embodied nothing but eccentricity and absurdity, yet it +naturally struck a child's mind with peculiar feelings of awe and +pathos. Such an event appeared picturesque matter for a story. It was +not easy to deal with; for in setting it, as was necessary, in close +relation to the gain-getting, marrying and giving in marriage, of the +people among whom it might occur, it was difficult to avoid either +giving it a poetic emphasis which it would not appear to have in reality +or degrading it by that superficial truth often called realism, which +belittles men. Any unworthiness in the working out of the incident is +due, not so much to lack of dignity in the subject, or to lack of +material, as to the limitations of the writer's capacity. + +Lest any of my countrymen should feel that this story is wanting in +sympathy with them, I may point out that it does not happen to deal with +Canadians proper, but with immigrants, most of whom are slow to identify +themselves with their adopted Country; hence their point of view is here +necessarily set forth. + +I would take this opportunity to express my obligation to my +fellow-worker, Miss M.S. Earp, for her constant and sympathetic +criticism and help in composition. + +L.D. + +EDINBURGH, June, 1893. + + + + +BOOK I. + +"_Necessity knows no Law._" + + + + +WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS + + + +CHAPTER I. + +INTRODUCTION. + + +"It is not often that what we call the 'great sorrows of life' cause us +the greatest sorrow. Death, acute disease, sudden and great +losses--these are sometimes easily borne compared with those intricate +difficulties which, without name and without appearance, work themselves +into the web of our daily life, and, if not rightly met, corrode and +tarnish all its brightness." + +So spoke Robert Trenholme, Principal of the New College and Rector of +the English church at Chellaston, in the Province of Quebec. He sat in +his comfortable library. The light of a centre lamp glowed with shaded +ray on books in their shelves, but shone strongly on the faces near it. +As Trenholme spoke his words had all the charm lent by modulated voice +and manner, and a face that, though strong, could light itself easily +with a winning smile. He was a tall, rather muscular man; his face had +that look of battle that indicates the nervous temperament. He was +talking to a member of his congregation who had called to ask advice and +sympathy concerning some carking domestic care. The advice had already +been given, and the clergyman proceeded to give the sympathy in the form +above. + +His listener was a sickly-looking man, who held by the hand a little boy +of five or six years. The child, pale and sober, regarded with +incessant interest the prosperous and energetic man who was talking to +its father. + +"Yes, yes," replied the troubled visitor, "yes, there's some help for +the big troubles, but none for the small--you're right there." + +"No," said the other, "I did not say there was no help. It is just those +complex difficulties for which we feel the help of our fellow-men is +inadequate that ought to teach us to find out how adequate is the help +of the Divine Man, our Saviour, to all our needs." + +"Yes, yes," said the poor man again, "yes, I suppose what you say is +true." + +But he evidently did not suppose so. He sidled to the door, cap in hand. +The clergyman said no more. He was one of those sensitive men who often +know instinctively whether or not their words find response in the heart +of the hearer, and to whom it is always a pain to say anything, even the +most trivial, which awakes no feeling common to both. + +Trenholme himself showed the visitors out of his house with a genial, +kindly manner, and when the departing footsteps had ceased to crunch the +garden path he still stood on his verandah, looking after the retreating +figures and feeling somewhat depressed--not as we might suppose St. Paul +would have felt depressed, had he, in like manner, taken the Name for +which he lived upon his lips in vain--and to render that name futile by +reason of our spiritual insignificance is surely the worst form of +profanity--but he felt depressed in the way that a gentleman might who, +having various interests at heart, had failed in a slight attempt to +promote one of them. + +It was the evening of one of the balmy days of a late Indian summer. The +stars of the Canadian sky had faded and become invisible in the light of +a moon that hung low and glorious, giving light to the dry, +sweet-scented haze of autumn air. Trenholme looked out on a neat garden +plot, and beyond, in the same enclosure, upon lawns of ragged, +dry-looking grass, in the centre of which stood an ugly brick house, +built apparently for some public purpose. This was the immediate +outlook. Around, the land was undulating; trees were abundant, and were +more apparent in the moonlight than the flat field spaces between them. +The graceful lines of leafless elms at the side of the main road were +clearly seen. About half a mile away the lights of a large village were +visible, but bits of walls and gable ends of white houses stood out +brighter in the moonlight than, the yellow lights within the windows. +Where the houses stretched themselves up on a low hill, a little white +church showed clear against the broken shadow of low-growing pines. + +As Trenholme was surveying the place dreamily in the wonderful light, +that light fell also, upon him and his habitation. He was apparently +intellectual, and had in him something of the idealist. For the rest, he +was a good-sized, good-looking man, between thirty and forty years of +age, and even by the moonlight one might see, from the form of his +clothes, that he was dressed with fastidious care. The walls and +verandah, of his house, which were of wood, glistened almost as brightly +with white paint as the knocker and doorplate did with brass lacquer. + +After a few minutes Trenholme's housekeeper, a wiry, sad-eyed woman, +came to see why the door was left open. When she saw the master of the +house she retired in abrupt, angular fashion, but the suggestion of her +errand recalled him from his brief relaxation. + +In his study he again sat down before the table where he had been +talking to his visitors. From the leaves of his blotting-paper he took a +letter which he had apparently been interrupted in writing. He took it +out in a quick, business-like way, and dipped his pen in the ink as +though, to finish rapidly; but then he sat still until the pen dried, +and no further word had been added. Again he dipped his pen, and again +let it dry. If the first sentence of the letter had taken as long to +compose as the second, it was no wonder that a caller had caused an +interruption. + +The letter, as it lay before him, had about a third of its page written +in a neat, forcible hand. The arms of his young college were printed at +the top. He had written:-- + + My dear brother,--I am very much concerned not to have heard + from you for so long. I have written to your old address in Montreal, + but received no answer. + +Here came the stop. At last he put pen to paper and went on:-- + + Even though we have disagreed as to what occupation is best for + you to follow, and also as to the degree of reserve that is desirable + as to what our father did, you must surely know that there is nothing + I desire more than your highest welfare. + +After looking at this sentence for a little while he struck his pen +through the word "highest," and then, offended with the appearance of +the obliteration, he copied this much of the letter on a fresh sheet and +again stopped. + +When he continued, it was on the old sheet. He made a rough copy of the +letter--writing, crossing out, and rewriting. It seemed that the task to +which he had set himself was almost harder than could appear possible, +for, as he became more absorbed in it, there was evidence of discomfort +in his attitude, and although the room was not warm, the moisture on his +forehead became visible in the strong light of the lamp above him. At +length, after preliminary pauses had been followed by a lengthened +period of vigorous writing, the letter was copied, and the writer sealed +it with an air of obvious relief. + +That done, he wrote another letter, the composition of which, although +it engaged his care, was apparently so much pleasanter, that perhaps the +doing of it was chosen on the same principle as one hears a farce after +a tragedy, in order to sleep the more easily. + +This second letter was to a lady. When it was written, Trenholme pulled +an album from a private drawer, and looked long and with interested +attention at the face of the lady to whom he had written. It was the +face of a young, handsome girl, who bore herself proudly. The fashion of +the dress would have suggested to a calculating mind that the portrait +had been taken some years before; but what man who imagines himself a +lover, in regarding the face of the absent dear one in the well-known +picture, adds in thought the marks of time? If he had been impartial he +would have asked the portrait if the face from which it was taken had +grown more proud and cold as the years went by, or more sad and +gentle--for, surely, in this work-a-day world of ours, fate would not be +likely to have gifts in store that would wholly satisfy those eager, +ambitious eyes; but, being a man no wiser than many other men, he looked +at the rather faded phonograph with considerable pleasure, and asked no +questions. + +It grew late as he contemplated the lady's picture, and, moreover, he +was not one, under any excuse, to spend much time in idleness. He put +away his album, and then, having personally locked up his house and said +good-night to his housekeeper, he went upstairs. + +Yet, in spite of all that Trenholme's pleasure in the letter and the +possession of the photograph might betoken, the missive, addressed to a +lady named Miss Rexford, was not a love-letter. It ran thus:-- + + I cannot even feign anger against "Dame Fortune," that, by so + unexpected a turn of her wheel, she should be even now bringing you + to the remote village where for some time I have been forced to make + my home, and where it is very probable I shall remain for some years + longer. I do, of course, unfeignedly regret the financial misfortune + which, as I understand, has made it necessary for Captain Rexford + to bring you all out to this young country; yet to me the pleasure of + expecting such neighbours must far exceed any other feeling with + which I regard your advent. + + I am exceedingly glad if I have been able to be of service to Captain + Rexford in making his business arrangements here, and hope all + will prove satisfactory. I have only to add that, although you must + be prepared for much that you will find different from English life, + much that is rough and ungainly and uncomfortable, you may feel + confident that, with a little patience, the worst roughness of + colonial life will soon be overcome, and that you will find compensation + a thousand times over in the glorious climate and cheerful prospects of + this new land. + + As I have never had the pleasure of meeting Captain and Mrs. Rexford, I + trust you will excuse me for addressing this note of welcome to you, + whom I trust I may still look upon as a friend. I have not forgotten the + winter when I received encouragement and counsel from you, who had so + many to admire and occupy you that, looking back now, I feel it strange + that you should have found time to bestow in mere kindness. + +Here there followed courteous salutations to the lady's father and +mother, brothers and sisters. The letter was signed in friendly style +and addressed to an hotel in Halifax, where apparently it was to await +the arrival of the fair stranger from some other shore. + +It is probable that, in the interfacings of human lives, events are +happening every moment which, although bearing according to present +knowledge no possible relation to our own lives, are yet to have an +influence on our future and make havoc with our expectations. The train +is laid, the fuse is lit, long before we know it. + +That night, as Robert Trenholme sealed his letters, an event took place +that was to test by a strange influence the lives of these three +people--Robert Trenholme, the lady of whom he thought so pleasantly, and +the young brother to whom he had written so laboriously. And the event +was that an old settler, who dwelt in a remote part of the country, went +out of his cabin in the delusive moonlight, slipped on a steep place, +and fell, thereby receiving an inward hurt that was to bring him death. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The Indian summer, that lingers in the Canadian forest after the fall of +the leaves, had passed away. The earth lay frozen, ready to bear the +snow. The rivers, with edge of thin ice upon their quiet places, +rolled, gathering into the surface of their waters the cold that would +so soon create their crystal prison. + +The bright sun of a late November day was shining upon a small lake that +lay in the lonely region to the west of the Gaspé Peninsula near the +Matapediac Valley. There was one farm clearing on a slope of the wild +hills that encircled the lake. The place was very lonely. An eagle that +rose from the fir-clad ridge above the clearing might from its eminence, +have seen other human habitations, but such sight was denied to the +dwellers in the rude log-house on the clearing. The eagle wheeled in the +air and flew southward. A girl standing near the log-house watched it +with discontented eyes. + +The blue water of the lake, with ceaseless lapping, cast up glinting +reflections of the cold sunlight. Down the hillside a stream ran to join +the lake, and it was on the more sheltered slope by this stream, where +grey-limbed maple trees grew, that the cabin stood. Above and around, +the steeper slopes bore only fir trees, whose cone-shaped or spiky +forms, sometimes burnt and charred, sometimes dead and grey, but for the +most part green and glossy, from shore and slope and ridge pointed +always to the blue zenith. + +The log-house, with its rougher sheds, was hard by the stream's ravine. +About the other sides of it stretched a few acres of tilled land. Round +this land the maple wood closed, and under its grey trees there was a +tawny brown carpet of fallen leaves from which the brighter autumn +colours had already faded. Up the hillside in the fir wood there were +gaps where the trees had been felled for lumber, and about a quarter of +a mile from the house a rudely built lumber slide descended to the lake. + +It was about an hour before sundown when the eagle had risen and fled, +and the sunset light found the girl who had watched it still standing in +the same place. All that time a man had been talking to her; but she +herself had not been talking, she had given him little reply. The two +were not close to the house; large, square-built piles of logs, sawn +and split for winter fuel, separated them from it. The man leaned +against the wood now; the girl stood upright, leaning on nothing. + +Her face, which was healthy, was at the same time pale. Her hair was +very red, and she had much of it. She was a large, strong young woman. +She looked larger and stronger than the man with whom she was +conversing. He was a thin, haggard fellow, not at first noticeable in +the landscape, for his clothes and beard were faded and worn into +colours of earth and wood, so that Nature seemed to have dealt with him +as she deals with her most defenceless creatures, causing them to grow +so like their surroundings that even their enemies do not easily observe +them. This man, however, was not lacking in a certain wiry physical +strength, nor in power of thought or of will. And these latter powers, +if the girl possessed them, were as yet only latent in her, for she had +the heavy and undeveloped appearance of backward youth. + +The man was speaking earnestly. At last he said:-- + +"Come now, Sissy, be a good lassie and say that ye're content to stay. +Ye've always been a good lassie and done what I told ye before." + +His accent was Scotch, but not the broad Scotch of an entirely +uneducated man. There was sobriety written in the traits of his face, +and more--a certain quality of intellectual virtue of the higher stamp. +He was not young, but he was not yet old. + +"I haven't," said the girl sullenly. + +He sighed at her perverseness. "That's not the way I remember it. I'm +sure, from the time ye were quite a wee one, ye have always tried to +please me.--We all come short sometimes; the thing is, what we are +trying to do." + +He spoke as if her antagonism to what he had been saying, to what he was +yet saying, had had a painful effect upon him which he was endeavouring +to hide. + +The girl looked over his head at the smoke that was proceeding from the +log-house chimney. She saw it curl and wreathe itself against the cold +blue east. It was white wood smoke, and as she watched it began to turn +yellow in the light from the sunset. She did not turn to see whence the +yellow ray came. + +"Now that father's dead, I won't stay here, Mr. Bates." She said "I +won't" just as a sullen, naughty girl would speak. "'Twas hateful enough +to stay while he lived, but now you and Miss Bates are nothing to me." + +"Nothing to ye, Sissy?" The words seemed to come out of him in pained +surprise. + +"I know you've brought me up, and taught me, and been far kinder to me +than father ever was; but I'm not to stay here all my life because of +_that_." + +"Bairn, I have just been telling ye there is nothing else ye can do just +now. I have no ready money. Your father had nothing to leave ye but his +share of this place; and, so far, we've just got along year by year, and +that's all. I'll work it as well as I can, and, if ye like, ye're +welcome to live free and lay by your share year by year till ye have +something to take with ye and are old enough to go away. But if ye go +off now ye'll have to live as a servant, and ye couldn't thole that, and +I couldn't for ye. Ye have no one to protect ye now but me. I've no +friends to send ye to. What do ye know of the world? It's unkind--ay, +and it's wicked too." + +"How's it so wicked? You're not wicked, nor father, nor me, nor the +men--how's people outside so much wickeder?" + +Bates's mouth--it was a rather broad, powerful mouth--began to grow hard +at her continued contention, perhaps also at the thought of the evils of +which he dreamed. "It's a very _evil_ world," he said, just as he would +have said that two and two made four to a child who had dared to +question that fact. "Ye're too young to understand it now: ye must take +my word for it." + +She made no sort of answer; she gave no sign of yielding; but, because +she had made no answer, he, self-willed and opinionated man that he was, +felt assured that she had no answer to give, and went on to talk as if +that one point were settled. + +"Ye can be happy here if ye will only think so. If we seem hard on ye in +the house about the meals and that, I'll try to be better tempered. Ye +haven't read all the books we have yet, but I'll get more the first +chance if ye like. Come, Sissy, think how lonesome I'd be without ye!" + +He moved his shoulders nervously while he spoke, as if the effort to +coax was a greater strain than the effort to teach or command. His +manner might have been that of a father who wheedled a child to do +right, or a lover who sued on his own behalf; the better love, for that +matter, is much the same in all relations of life. + +This last plea evidently moved her just a little. "I'm sorry, Mr. +Bates," she said. + +"What are ye sorry for, Sissy?" + +"That I'm to leave you." + +"But ye're not going. Can't ye get that out of your head? How will ye +go?" + +"In the boat, when they take father." + +At that the first flash of anger came from him. "Ye won't go, if I have +to hold ye by main force. I can't go to bury your father. I have to stay +here and earn bread and butter for you and me, or we'll come short of +it. If ye think I'm going to let ye go with a man I know little about--" + +His voice broke off in indignation, and as for the girl, whether from +sudden anger at being thus spoken to, or from the conviction of +disappointment which had been slowly forcing itself upon her, she began +to cry. His anger vanished, leaving an evident discomfort behind. He +stood before her with a weary look of effort on his face, as if he were +casting all things in heaven and earth about in his mind to find which +of them would be most likely to afford her comfort, or at least, to put +an end to tears which, perhaps for a reason unknown to himself, gave +him excessive annoyance. + +"Come, Sissy"--feebly--"give over." + +But the girl went on crying, not loudly or passionately, but with no +sign of discontinuance, as she stood there, large and miserable, before +him. He settled his shoulders obstinately against the wood pile, +thinking to wait till she should speak or make some further sign. +Nothing but strength of will kept him in his place, for he would gladly +have fled from her. He had now less guidance than before to what was +passing in her mind, for her face was more hidden from his sight as the +light of the sinking sun focussed more exclusively in the fields of +western sky behind her. + +Then the sun went down behind the rugged hills of the lake's other +shore; and, as it sank below their sharp outlines, their sides, which +had been clear and green, became dim and purple; the blue went out of +the waters of the lake, they became the hue of steel touched with +iridescence of gold; and above the hills, vapour that had before been +almost invisible in the sky, now hung in upright layers of purple mist, +blossoming into primrose yellow on the lower edges. A few moments more +and grey bloom, such as one sees on purple fruit, was on these vast +hangings of cloud that grouped themselves more largely, and gold flames +burned on their fringes. Behind them there were great empty reaches of +lambent blue, and on the sharp edge of the shadowed hills there was a +line of fire. + +It produced in Bates unthinking irritation that Nature should quietly go +on outspreading her evening magnificence in face of his discomfort. In +ordinal light or darkness one accepts the annoyances of life as coming +all in the day's work; but Nature has her sublime moments in which, if +the sensitive mind may not yield itself to her delight, it is forced +into extreme antagonism, either to her or to that which withholds from +joining in her ecstasy. Bates was a man sensitive to many forces, the +response to which within him was not openly acknowledged to himself. He +was familiar with the magnificence of sunsets in this region, but his +mind was not dulled to the marvel of the coloured glory in which the +daylight so often culminated. + +He looked off at the western sky, at first chiefly conscious of the +unhappy girl who stood in front of him and irritated by that intervening +shape; but, as his vision wandered along the vast reaches of illimitable +clouds and the glorious gulfs of sky, his mind yielded itself the rather +to the beauty and light. More dusky grew the purple of the upper mists +whose upright layers, like league-long wings of softest feather held +edge downward to the earth, ever changed in form without apparent +movement. More sparkling glowed the gold upon their edges. The sky +beneath the cloud was now like emerald. The soft darkness of purple +slate was on the hills. The lake took on a darker shade, and daylight +began to fade from the upper blue. + +It was only perhaps a moment--one of those moments for which time has no +measurement--that the soul of this man had gone out of him, as it were, +into the vastness of the sunset; and when he recalled it his situation +took on for him a somewhat different aspect. He experienced something of +that temporary relief from personal responsibility that moments of +religious sentiment often give to minds that are unaccustomed to +religion. He had been free for the time to disport himself in something +infinitely larger and wider than his little world, and he took up his +duty at the point at which he had left it with something of this sense +of freedom lingering with him. + +He was a good man--that is, a man whose face would have made it clear to +any true observer that he habitually did the right in contradistinction +to the wrong. He was, moreover, religious, and would not have been +likely to fall into any delusion of mere sentiment in the region of +religious emotion. But that which deludes a man commonly comes through a +safe channel. As a matter of fact, the excitement which the delight of +the eye had produced in him was a perfectly wholesome feeling, but the +largeness of heart it gave him at that moment was unfortunate. + +The girl stood just as before, ungainly and without power of expression +because undeveloped, but excitation of thought made what she might +become apparent to him in that which she was. He became more generous +towards her, more loving. + +"Don't greet, that's a good lassie," he said soothingly. "There's truth +in what ye have said--that it's dull for ye here because ye have nothing +to look ahead to. Well, I'll tell ye what I didn't mean to tell ye while +ye are so young--when ye're older, if ye're a good lassie and go on +learning your lessons as ye have been doing, I will ask ye to marry me, +and then (we hope of course to get more beforehand wi' money as years +go) ye will have more interest and--" + +"Marry!" interrupted the girl, not strongly, but speaking in faint +wonder, as if echoing a word she did not quite understand. + +"Yes," he went on with great kindliness, "I talked it over with your +father before he went, and he was pleased. I told him that, in a year or +two, if he liked it, I would marry ye--it's only if ye _like_, of +course; and ye'd better not think about it now, for ye're too young." + +"Marry me!" This time the exclamation came from her with a force that +was appalling to him. The coarse handkerchief which she had been holding +to her eyes was withdrawn, and with lips and eyes open she exclaimed +again: "Marry me! _You_!" + +It was remarkable how this man, who so far was using, and through long +years had always used, only the tone of mentor, now suddenly began to +try to justify himself with almost childlike timidity. + +"Your father and I didn't know of any one else hereabouts that would +suit, and of course we knew ye would naturally be disappointed if ye +didn't marry." He went on muttering various things about the convenience +of such an arrangement. + +She listened to nothing more than his first sentence, and began to move +away from him slowly a few steps backwards; then, perceiving that she +had come to the brink of the level ground, she turned and suddenly +stretched out her arm with almost frantic longing toward the cold, grey +lake and the dark hills behind, where the fires of the west still +struggled with the encroaching November night. + +As she turned there was light enough for him to see how bright the +burning colour of her hair was--bright as the burning copper glow on the +lower feathers of those great shadowy wings of cloud--the wings of night +that were enfolding the dying day. Some idea, gathered indefinitely from +both the fierceness of her gesture and his transient observation of the +colour of her hair, suggested to him that he had trodden on the sacred +ground of a passionate heart. + +Poor man! He would have been only too glad just then to have effaced his +foot-prints if he had had the least idea how to do it. The small shawl +she wore fell from her unnoticed as she went quickly into the house. He +picked it up, and folded it awkwardly, but with meditative care. It was +a square of orange-coloured merino, such as pedlars who deal with the +squaws always carry, an ordinary thing for a settler's child to possess. +As he held it, Bates felt compunction that it was not something finer +and to his idea prettier, for he did not like the colour. He decided +that he would purchase something better for her as soon as possible. He +followed her into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Night, black and cold, settled over the house that had that day for the +first time been visited by death. Besides the dead man, there were now +three people to sleep in it: an old woman, whose failing brain had +little of intelligence left, except such as showed itself in the +everyday habits of a long and orderly life; the young girl, whose mind +slow by nature in reaching maturity and retarded by the monotony of her +life, had not yet gained the power of realising its own deeper +thoughts, still less of explaining them to another; and this man, Bates, +who, being by natural constitution peculiarly susceptible to the strain +of the sight of illness and death which he had just undergone, was not +in the best condition to resist the morbid influences of unhappy +companionship. + +The girl shed tears as she moved about sullenly. She would not speak to +Bates, and he did not in the least understand that, sullen as she was, +her speechlessness did not result from that, but from inability to +reduce to any form the chaotic emotions within her, or to find any +expression which might represent her distress. He could not realise that +the childish mind that had power to converse for trivial things had, as +yet, no word for the not-trivial; that the blind womanly emotion on +which he had trodden had as yet no counterpart in womanly thought, which +might have formed excuses for his conduct, or at least have comprehended +its simplicity. He only felt uneasily that her former cause of +contention with him, her determination, sudden as her father's death, to +leave the only home she possessed, was now enforced by her antagonism to +the suggestion he had made of a future marriage, and he felt increasing +annoyance that it should be so. Naturally enough, a deep undercurrent of +vexation was settling in his mind towards her for feeling that +antagonism, but he was vexed also with himself for having suggested the +fresh source of contest just now to complicate the issue between them as +to whether she should remain where she was, at any rate for the present. +Remain she must; he was clear upon that point. The form of his religious +theories, long held in comparative isolation from mankind, convinced +him, whether truly or not, that humanity was a very bad thing; she +should not leave his protection, and he was considerate enough to desire +that, when the time came for launching the boat which was to take her +father's body to burial, he should not need to detain her by force. + +The girl set an ill-cooked supper before Bates and the hired man, and +would not herself eat. As Bates sat at his supper he felt drearily that +his position was hard; and, being a man whose training disposed him to +vaguely look for the cause of trial in sin, wondered what he had done +that it had thus befallen him. His memory reverted to the time when, on +an emigrant ship, he had made friends with the man Cameron who that day +had died, and they had agreed to choose their place and cast in their +lot together. It had been part of the agreement that the aunt who +accompanied Bates should do the woman's work of the new home until she +was too old, and that Cameron's child should do it when she was old +enough. + +The girl was a little fat thing then, wearing a red hood. Bates, uneasy +in his mind both as to his offer of marriage and her resentment, asked +himself if he was to blame that he had begun by being kind to her then, +that he had played with her upon the ship's deck, that on their land +journey he had often carried her in his arms, or that, in the years of +the hard isolated life which since then they had all lived, he had +taught and trained the girl with far more care than her father had +bestowed on her. Or was he to blame that he had so often been strict and +severe with her? Or was he unjust in feeling now that he had a righteous +claim to respect and consideration from her to an almost greater extent +than the dead father whose hard, silent life had showed forth little of +the proper attributes of fatherhood? Or did the sin for which he was now +being punished lie in the fact that, in spite of her constant wilfulness +and frequent stupidity, he still felt such affection for his pupil as +made him unwilling, as he phrased it, to seek a wife elsewhere and thus +thrust her from her place in the household. Bates had a certain latent +contempt for women; wives he thought were easily found and not +altogether desirable; and with that inconsistency common to men, he +looked upon his proposal to the girl now as the result of a much more +unselfish impulse than he had done an hour ago, before she exclaimed at +it so scornfully. He did not know how to answer himself. In all honesty +he could not accuse himself of not having done his duty by the girl or +of any desire to shirk it in the future; and that being the case, he +grew every minute more inclined to believe that the fact that his duty +was now being made so disagreeable to him was owing, not to any fault of +his, but to the naughtiness of her disposition. + +The hired man slept in an outer shed. When he had gone, and Bates went +up to his own bed in the loft of the log-house, the last sound that he +heard was the girl sobbing where she lay beside the old woman in the +room below. The sound was not cheering. + +The next day was sunless and colder. Twice that morning Sissy Cameron +stopped Bates at his work to urge her determination to leave the place, +and twice he again set his reasons for refusal before her with what +patience he could command. He told her, what she knew without telling, +that the winter was close upon them, that the winter's work at the +lumber was necessary for their livelihood, that it was not in his power +to find her an escort for a journey at this season or to seek another +home for her. Then, when she came to him again a third time, his anger +broke out, and he treated her with neither patience nor good sense. + +It was in the afternoon, and a chill north breeze ruffled the leaden +surface of the lake and seemed to curdle the water with its breath; +patches of soft ice already mottled it. The sky was white, and leafless +maple and evergreen seemed almost alike colourless in the dull, cold +air. Bates had turned from his work to stand for a few moments on the +hard trodden level in front of the house and survey the weather. He had +reason to survey it with anxiety. He was anxious to send the dead man's +body to the nearest graveyard for decent burial, and the messenger and +cart sent on this errand were to bring back another man to work with him +at felling the timber that was to be sold next spring. The only way +between his house and other houses lay across the lake and through a gap +in the hills, a way that was passable now, and passable in calm days +when winter had fully come, but impassable at the time of forming ice +and of falling and drifting snow. He hoped that the snow and ice would +hold off until his plan could be carried out, but he held his face to +the keen cold breeze and looked at the mottled surface of the lake with +irritable anxiety. It was not his way to confide his anxiety to any one; +he was bearing it alone when the girl, who had been sauntering aimlessly +about, came to him. + +"If I don't go with the boat to-morrow," she said, "I'll walk across as +soon as the ice'll bear." + +With that he turned upon her. "And if I was a worse man than I am I'd +let ye. It would be a comfort to me to be rid of ye. Where would ye go, +or what would ye do? Ye ought to be only too thankful to have a +comfortable home where ye're kept from harm. It's a cruel and bad world, +I tell ye; it's going to destruction as fast as it can, and ye'd go +with it." + +The girl shook with passion. "I'd do nothing of the sort," she choked. + +All the anger and dignity of her being were aroused, but it did not +follow that she had any power to give them adequate utterance. She +turned from him, and, as she stood, the attitude of her whole figure +spoke such incredulity, scorn, and anger, that the flow of hot-tempered +arguments with which he was still ready to seek to persuade her reason, +died on his lips. He lost all self-control in increasing ill-temper. + +"Ye may prance and ye may dance"--he jerked the phrase between his +teeth, using words wholly inapplicable to her attitude because he could +not analyse its offensiveness sufficiently to find words that applied to +it. "Yes, prance and dance as much as ye like, but ye'll not go in the +boat to-morrow if ye'd six fathers to bury instead of one, and ye'll not +set foot out of this clearing, where I can look after ye. I said to the +dead I'd take care of ye, and I'll do it--ungrateful lass though ye +are." + +He hurled the last words at her as he turned and went into a shed at +the side of the house in which he had before been working. + +The girl stood quite still as long as he was within sight. She seemed +conscious of his presence though she was not looking towards him, for as +soon as he had stepped within the low opening of the shed, she moved +away, walking in a wavering track across the tilled land, walking as if +movement was the end of her purpose, not as if she had destination. + +The frozen furrows of the ploughed land crumbled beneath her heavy +tread. The north wind grew stronger. When she reached the edge of the +maple wood and looked up with swollen, tear-blurred eyes, she saw the +grey branches moved by the wind, and the red squirrels leaped from +branch to branch and tree to tree as if blown by the same air. She +wandered up one side of the clearing and down the other, sometimes +wading knee-deep in loud rustling maple leaves gathered in dry hollows +within the wood, sometimes stumbling over frozen furrows as she crossed +corners of the ploughed land, walking all the time in helpless, hopeless +anger. + +When, however, she came back behind the house to that part of the +clearing bounded by the narrow and not very deep ravine which running +water had cut into the side of the hill, she seemed to gather some +reviving sensations from the variety which the bed of the brook +presented to her view. Here, on some dozen feet of steeply sloping rock +and earth, which on either side formed the trough of the brook, +vegetable life was evidently more delicate and luxuriant than elsewhere, +in the season when it had sway. Even now, when the reign of the frost +held all such life in abeyance, this grave of the dead summer lacked +neither fretted tomb nor wreathing garland; for above, the bittersweet +hung out heavy festoons of coral berries over the pall of its faded +leaves, and beneath, on frond of fern and stalk of aster, and on rough +surface of lichen-covered rock, the frost had turned the spray of water +to white crystals, and the stream, with imprisoned far-off murmur, made +its little leaps within fairy palaces of icicles, and spread itself in +pools whose leafy contents gave colours of mottled marble to the ice +that had grown upon them. It was on the nearer bank of this stream, +where, a little below, it curved closer to the house, that her father, +falling with a frost-loosened rock, had received his fatal injury. Out +of the pure idleness of despondency it occurred to the girl that, from +the point at which she had now arrived, she might obtain a new view of +the small landslip which had caused the calamity. + +She cast her arms round a lithe young birch whose silver trunk bent from +the top of the bank, and thus bridging the tangle of shrub and vine she +hung over the short precipice to examine the spot with sad curiosity. + +She herself could hardly have told what thoughts passed through her mind +as, childlike, she thus lapsed from hard anger into temporary amusement. +But greater activity of mind did come with the cessation of movement and +the examination of objects which stimulated such fancy as she possessed. +She looked at the beauty in the ravine beneath her, and at the rude +destruction that falling earth and rock had wrought in it a few yards +further down. She began to wonder whether, if the roots of the tree on +which she was at full length stretched should give way in the same +manner, and such a fall prove fatal to her also, Mr. Bates would be +sorry. It gave her a sensation of pleasure to know that such a mishap +would annoy and distress him very much; and, at the very moment of this +sensation, she drew back and tested the firmness of the ground about its +roots before resigning herself unreservedly to the tree again. When she +had resumed her former position with a feeling of perfect safety, she +continued for a few minutes to dilate in fancy upon the suffering that +would be caused by the death her whim had suggested. She was not a cruel +girl, not on the whole ill-natured, yet such is human nature that this +idea was actually the first that had given her satisfaction for many +hours. How sorry Mr. Bates would be, when he found her dead, that he had +dared to speak so angrily to her! It was, in a way, luxurious to +contemplate the pathos of such an artistic death for herself, and its +fine effect, by way of revenge, upon the guardian who had made himself +intolerable to her. + +From her post of observation she now saw, what had not before been +observed by any one, that where rock and earth had fallen treacherously +under her father's tread, another portion of the bank was loosened ready +to fall. Where this loosening--the work no doubt of the frost--had taken +place, there was but a narrow passage between the ravine and the house, +and she was startled to be the first to discover what was so essential +for all in the house to know. For many days the myriad leaves of the +forest had lain everywhere in the dry atmosphere peculiar to a Canadian +autumn, till it seemed now that all weight and moisture had left them. +They were curled and puckered into half balloons, ready for the wind to +toss and drift into every available gap. So strewn was this passage with +such dry leaves, which even now the wind was drifting upon it more +thickly, that the danger might easily have remained unseen. Then, as +fancy is fickle, her mind darted from the pleasurable idea of her own +death to consider how it would be if she did not make known her +discovery and allowed her enemy to walk into the snare. This idea was +not quite as attractive as the former, for it is sweeter to think of +oneself as innocently dead and mourned, than as guilty and performing +the office of mourner for another; and it was of herself only, whether +as pictured in Bates's sufferings or as left liberated by his death, +that the girl was thinking. Still it afforded relaxation to imagine what +she might do if she were thus left mistress of the situation; and she +devised a scheme of action for these circumstances that, in its clever +adaptation to what would be required, would have greatly amazed the man +who looked upon her as an unthinking child. + +The difference between a strong and a weak mind is not that the strong +mind does not indulge itself in wild fancies, but that it never gives to +such fancy the power of capricious sway over the centres of purpose. +This young woman was strong in mind as in body. No flickering intention +of actually performing that which she had imagined had place within her. +She played with the idea of death as she might have played with a toy, +while resting herself from the angry question into which her whole being +had for two days concentrated itself, as to how she could thwart the +will of the man who had assumed authority over her, and gain the freedom +that she felt was necessary to life itself. + +She had not lain many minutes upon the out-growing birch before she had +again forgotten her gust of revengeful fancy, and yielded herself to her +former serious mood with a reaction of greater earnestness. The winter +beauty of the brook, the grey, silent trees above, and the waste of dry +curled leaves all round--these faded from her observation because the +eye of her mind was again turned inwards to confront the circumstances +of her difficulty. + +As she leaned thus in childlike attitude and womanly size, her arms +twined round the tree and her cheek resting on its smooth surface, that +clumsiness which in all young animals seems inseparable from the period +when recent physical growth is not yet entirely permeated by the +character-life which gives it individual expression, was not apparent +and any intelligent eye seeing her would have seen large beauty in her +figure, which, like a Venus in the years when art was young, had no +cramped proportions. Her rough, grey dress hung heavily about her; the +moccasins that encased her feet were half hidden in the loose pile of +dry leaves which had drifted high against the root of the tree. There +was, however, no visible eye there to observe her youthful comeliness or +her youthful distress. If some angel was near, regarding her, she did +not know it, and if she had, she would not have been much interested; +there was nothing in her mood to respond to angelic pity or +appreciation. As it was, the strong tree was impotent to return her +embrace; its cold bark had no response for the caress of her cheek; the +north wind that howled, the trees that swayed, the dead leaves that +rustling fled, and the stream that murmured under its ice, gave but +drear companionship. Had she yielded her mind to their influence, the +desires of her heart might have been numbed to a transient despair more +nearly akin to a virtuous resignation to circumstance than the revolt +that was now rampant within her. She did not yield; she was not now +observing them; they only effected upon her inattentive senses an +impression of misery which fed the strength of revolt. + +A minute or two more and the recumbent position had become unendurable +as too passive to correspond with the inward energy. She clambered back, +and, standing upon level ground, turned, facing the width of the bare +clearing and the rough buildings on it, and looked toward the downward +slope and the wild lake, whose cold breath of water was agitated by the +wind. The sky was full of cloud. + +She stood up with folded arms, strength and energy in the stillness of +her attitude. She heard the sound of carpenter's tools coming from the +shed into which Bates had retired. No other hint of humanity was in the +world to which she listened, which she surveyed. As she folded her arms +she folded her bright coloured old shawl about her, and seemed to gather +within its folds all warmth of colour, all warmth of feeling, that was +in that wild, desolate place. + +A flake of snow fell on the shawl; she did not notice it. Another rested +upon her cheek; then she started. She did not move much, but her face +lifted itself slightly; her tear-swollen eyes were wide open; her lips +were parted, as if her breath could hardly pass to and fro quickly +enough to keep pace with agitated thought. The snow had begun to come. +She knew well that it would go on falling, not to-day perhaps, nor +to-morrow, but as certainly as time would bring the following days, so +certainly the snow would fall, covering the frozen surface of the earth +and water with foot above foot of powdery whiteness. Far as she now was +from the gay, active throng of fellow-creatures which she conceived as +existing in the outer world, and with whom she longed to be, the snow +would make that distance not only great, but impassable to her, unaided. + +It was true that she had threatened Bates with flight by foot across the +frozen lake; but she knew in truth that such departure was as dependent +on the submission of his will to hers as was her going in the more +natural way by boat the next day, for the track of her snow-shoes and +the slowness of her journey upon them would always keep her within his +power. + +The girl contemplated the falling flakes and her own immediate future at +the same moment. The one notion clear to her mind was, that she must get +away from that place before the cold had time to enchain the lake, or +these flakes to turn the earth into a frozen sea. Her one hope was in +the boat that would be launched to carry her dead father. She must go. +_She must go!_ + +Youth would not be strong if it did not seek for happiness with all its +strength, if it did not spurn pain with violence. All the notions that +went to make up this girl's idea of pain were gathered from her present +life of monotony and loneliness. All the notions that went to make up +her idea of happiness were culled from what she had heard and dreamed of +life beyond her wilderness. Added to this there was the fact that the +man who had presumed to stand between her and the accomplishment of the +first strong volition of her life had become intolerable to her--whether +more by his severity or by his kindliness she could not tell. She folded +her shawl-draped arms more strongly across her breast, and hugged to +herself all the dreams and desires, hopes and dislikes, that had grown +within her as she had grown in mind and stature in that isolated place. + +How could she accomplish her will? + +The flakes fell upon the copper gloss of her uncombed hair, on face and +hands that reddened to the cold, and gathered in the folds of the shawl. +She stood as still as a waxen figure, if waxen figure could ever be true +to the power of will which her pose betrayed. When the ground was white +with small dry flakes she moved again. Her reverie, for lack of +material, seemed to have come to nothing fresh. She determined to prefer +her request again to Bates. + +She walked round the house and came to the shed door. In this shed large +kettles and other vessels for potash-making were set up, but in front of +these Bates and his man were at work making a rude pinewood coffin. The +servant was the elder of the two. He had a giant-like, sinewy frame and +a grotesquely small head; his cheeks were round and red like apples, and +his long whiskers evidently received some attention from his vanity; it +seemed an odd freak for vanity to take, for all the rest of him was +rough and dirty. He wriggled when the girl darkened the doorway, but did +not look straight at her. + +"There's more of the bank going to slip where father fell--it's loose," +she said. + +They both heard. The servant answered her, commenting on the +information. These were the only words that were said for some time. The +girl stood and pressed herself against the side of the door. Bates did +not look at her. At last she addressed him again. Her voice was low and +gentle, perhaps from fear, perhaps from desire to persuade, perhaps +merely from repression of feeling. + +"Mr. Bates," she said, "you'll let me go in the boat with that?"--she +made a gesture toward the unfinished coffin. + +His anger had cooled since he had last seen her, not lessening but +hardening, as molten metal loses malleability as it cools. Much had been +needed to fan his rage to flame, but now the will fused by it had taken +the mould of a hard decision that nothing but the blowing of another +fire would melt. + +"Ye'll not go unless you go _in_ a coffin instead of along-side of it." + +The coarse humour of his refusal was analogous to the laugh of a chidden +child; it expressed not amusement, but an attempt to conceal nervous +discomposure. The other man laughed; his mind was low enough to be +amused. + +"It's no place for me here," she urged, "and I ought by rights to go to +the burying of my father." + +"There's no place for ye neither where he'll be buried; and as to ye +being at the funeral, it's only because I'm a long sight better than +other men about the country that I don't shovel him in where he fell. +I'm getting out the boat, and sending Saul here and the ox-cart two +days' journey, to have him put decently in a churchyard. I don't +b'lieve, if I'd died, you and your father would have done as much by +me." + +As he lauded his own righteousness his voice was less hard for the +moment, and, like a child, she caught some hope. + +"Yes, it's good of you, and in the end you'll be good and let me go too, +Mr. Bates." + +"Oh yes." There was no assent in his voice. "And I'll go too, to see +that ye're not murdered when Saul gets drunk at the first house; and +we'll take my aunt too, as we can't leave her behind; and we'll take the +cow that has to be milked, and the pigs and hens that have to be fed; +and when we get there, we'll settle down without any house to live in, +and feed on air." + +His sarcasm came from him like the sweat of anger; he did not seem to +take any voluntary interest in the play of his words. His manner was +cool, but it was noticeable that he had stopped his work and was merely +cutting a piece of wood with his jack-knife. As she looked at him +steadily he whittled the more savagely. + +The other man laughed again, and wriggled as he laughed. + +"No," she replied, "you can't come, I know; but I can take care of +myself." + +"It's a thieving, drunken lot of fellows Saul will fall in with. Ye may +prefer their society to mine, but I'll not risk it." + +"I can go to the minister." + +"And his wife would make a kitchen-girl of ye, and ye'd run off from her +in a week. If ye'd not stay here, where ye have it all your own way, +it's not long that ye'd put up wi' my lady's fault-finding; and +ministers and their wives isn't much better than other folks--I've told +ye before what I think of that sort of truck." + +There was a glitter in her eyes that would have startled him, but he did +not see it. He was looking only at the wood he was cutting, but he never +observed that he was cutting it. After a minute he uttered his +conclusion. + +"Ye'll stay wi' me." + +"_Stay_ with you," she cried, her breath catching at her words--"for how +long?" + +"I don't know." Complete indifference was in his tone. "Till ye're old, +I suppose; for I'm not likely to find a better place for ye." + +All the force of her nature was in the words she cast at him. + +"_I'll not stay_." + +"No?" he sneered in heavy, even irony. "Will ye cry on the neighbours to +fetch ye away?" + +She did not need to turn her head to see the wild loneliness of hill and +lake. It was present to her mind as she leaned on the rough wooden +lintel, looking into the shed. + +"Or," continued he, "will ye go a-visiting. There's the Indians camping +other side o' the mountain here "--he jerked his head backward to denote +the direction--"and one that came down to the tree-cutting two weeks ago +said there were a couple of wolves on the other hill. I dare say either +Indians or wolves would be quite glad of the _pleasure_ o' your +company." + +She raised herself up and seemed suddenly to fill the doorway, so that +both men looked up because much of their light was withdrawn. + +"You'd not have dared to speak to me like this while father was alive." + +As a matter of fact the accusation was not true. The father's presence +or absence would have made no difference to Bates had he been wrought up +to the same pitch of anger; but neither he nor the girl was in a +condition to know this. He only replied: + +"That's the reason I waited till he was dead." + +"If he hadn't been hurt so sudden he wouldn't have left me _here."_ + +"But he _was_ hurt sudden, and he _did_ leave ye here." + +She made as if to answer, but did not. Both men were looking at her now. +The snow was white on her hair. Her tears had so long been dry that the +swollen look was passing from her face. It had been until now at best a +heavy face, but feeling that is strong enough works like a master's +swift chisel to make the features the vehicle of the soul. Both men were +relieved when she suddenly took her eyes from them and her shadow from +their work and went away. + +Saul stretched his head and looked after her. There was no pity in his +little apple face and beady eyes, only a sort of cunning curiosity, and +the rest was dulness and weakness. + +Bates did not look after her. He shut his knife and fell to joining the +coffin. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The girl lifted the latch of the house-door, and went in. She was in the +living-room. The old woman sat in a chair that was built of wood against +the log wall. She was looking discontentedly before her at an iron +stove, which had grown nearly cold for lack of attention. Some chairs, a +table, a bed, and a ladder which led to the room above, made the chief +part of the furniture. A large mongrel dog, which looked as if he had +some blood of the grey southern sheep dog in him rose from before the +stove and greeted the in-comer silently. + +The dog had blue eyes, and he held up his face wistfully, as if he knew +something was the matter. The old woman complained of cold. It was plain +that she did not remember anything concerning death or tears. + +There was one other door in the side of the room which led to the only +inner chamber. The girl went into this chamber, and the heed she gave to +the dog's sympathy was to hold the door and let him follow her. Then she +bolted it. There were two narrow beds built against the wall; in one of +these the corpse of a grey-haired man was lying. The dog had seen death +before, and he evidently understood what it was. He did not move quickly +or sniff about; he laid his head on the edge of the winding-sheet and +moaned a little. + +The girl did not moan. She knelt down some way from the bed, with a +desire to pray. She did not pray; she whispered her anger, her +unhappiness, her desires, to the air of the cold, still room, repeating +the same phrases again and again with clenched hands and the convulsive +gestures of half-controlled passion. + +The reason she did not pray was that she believed that she could only +pray when she was "good," and after falling on her knees she became +aware that goodness, as she understood it, was not in her just then, nor +did she even desire it. The giving vent to her misery in half-audible +whispers followed involuntarily on her intention to pray. She knew not +why she thus poured out her heart; she hardly realised what she said or +wished to say; yet, because some expression of her helpless need was +necessary, and because, through fear and a rugged sense of her own evil, +she sedulously averted her mind from the thought of God, her action had, +more than anything else, the semblance of an invocation to the dead man +to arise and save her, and take vengeance on her enemy. + +Daylight was in the room. The girl had knelt at first upright; then, as +her passion seemed to avail nothing, but only to weary her, she sank +back, sitting on her feet, buried her locked hands deeply in her lap, +and with head bowed over them, continued to stab the air with short, +almost inaudible, complaints. The dead man lay still. The dog, after +standing long in subdued silence, came and with his tongue softly lapped +some of the snow-water from her hair. + +After that, she got up and went with him back into the kitchen, and lit +the fire, and cooked food, and the day waned. + +There is never in Nature that purpose to thwart which man in his +peevishness is apt to attribute to her. Just because he desired so much +that the winter should hold off a few days longer, Bates, on seeing the +snow falling from the white opaque sky, took for granted that the +downfall would continue and the ice upon the lake increase. Instead of +that, the snow stopped falling at twilight without apparent cause, and +night set in more mildly. + +Darkness fell upon the place, as darkness can only fall upon solitudes, +with a lonesome dreariness that seemed to touch and press. Night is not +always dark, but with this night came darkness. There was no star nor +glimmer of light; the pine-clad hills ceased to have form; the water in +the lake was lost to all sense but that of hearing; and upon nearer +objects the thinly sprinkled snow bestowed no distinctness of outline, +but only a weird show of whitish shapes. The water gave forth fitful +sobs. At intervals there were sounds round the house, as of stealthy +feet, or of quick pattering feet, or of trailing garments--this was the +wind busy among the drifting leaves. + +The two men, who had finished the coffin by the light of a lantern, +carried it into the house and set it up against the wall while they ate +their evening meal. Then they took it to a table in the next room to put +the dead man in it. The girl and the dog went with them. They had +cushioned the box with coarse sacking filled with fragrant pine +tassels, but the girl took a thickly quilted cloth from her own bed and +lined it more carefully. They did not hinder her. + +"We've made it a bit too big," said Saul; "that'll stop the shaking." + +The corpse, according to American custom, was dressed in its clothes--a +suit of light grey homespun, such as is to be bought everywhere from +French-Canadian weavers. When they had lifted the body and put it in the +box, they stopped involuntarily to look, before the girl laid a +handkerchief upon the face. There lay a stalwart, grey-haired man--dead. +Perhaps he had sinned deeply in his life; perhaps he had lived as nobly +as his place and knowledge would permit--they could not tell. Probably +they each estimated what they knew of his life from a different +standpoint. The face was as ashen as the grey hair about it, as the grey +clothes the body wore. They stood and looked at it--those three, who +were bound to each other by no tie except such as the accident of time +and place had wrought. The dog, who understood what death was, exhibited +no excitement, no curiosity; his tail drooped; he moaned quietly against +the coffin. + +Bates made an impatient exclamation and kicked him. The kick was a +subdued one. The wind-swept solitude without and the insistent presence +of death within had its effect upon them all. Saul looked uneasily over +his shoulder at the shadows which the guttering candle cast on the wall. +Bates handled the coffin-lid with that shrinking from noise which is +peculiar to such occasions. + +"Ye'd better go in the other room," said he to Sissy. "It's unfortunate +we haven't a screw left--we'll have to nail it." + +Sissy did not go. They had made holes in the wood for the nails as well +as they could, but they had to be hammered in. It was very +disagreeable--the sound and the jar. With each stroke of Saul's hammer +it seemed to the two workmen that the dead man jumped. + +"There, man," cried Bates angrily; "that'll do." + +Only four nails had been put in their places--one in each side. With +irritation that amounted to anger against Saul, Bates took the hammer +from him and shoved it on to a high shelf. + +"Ye can get screws at the village, ye know," he said, still indignantly, +as if some fault had appertained to Saul. + +Then, endeavouring to calm an ill-temper which he felt to be wholly +unreasonable, he crossed his arms and sat down on a chair by the wall. +His sitting in that room at all perhaps betokened something of the same +sensation which in Saul produced those glances before and behind, +indicating that he did not like to turn his back upon any object of awe. +In Bates this motive, if it existed, was probably unconscious or +short-lived; but while he still sat there Saul spoke, with a short, +silly laugh which was by way of preface. + +"Don't you think, now, Mr. Bates, it 'ud be better to have a prayer, or +a hymn, or something of that sort? We'd go to bed easier." + +To look at the man it would not have been easy to attribute any just +notion of the claims of religion to him. He looked as if all his +motions, except those of physical strength, were vapid and paltry. +Still, this was what he said, and Bates replied stiffly: + +"I've no objections." + +Then, as if assuming proper position for the ceremony that was to ease +his mind, the big lumberman sat down. The girl also sat down. + +Bates, wiry, intelligent Scot that he was, sat, his arms crossed and his +broad jaw firmly set, regarding them both with contempt in his mind. +What did they either of them know about the religion they seemed at this +juncture to feel after as vaguely as animals feel after something they +want and have not? But as for him, he understood religion; he was quite +capable of being priest of his household, and he felt that its weak +demand for a form of worship at this time was legitimate. In a minute, +therefore, he got up, and fetching a large Bible from the living-room he +sat down again and turned over its leaves with great precision and +reverence. + +He read one of the more trenchant of the Psalms, a long psalm that had +much in it about enemies and slaughter. It had a very strong meaning for +him, for he put himself in the place of the writer. The enemies +mentioned were, in the first place, sins--by which he denoted the more +open forms of evil; and, in the second place, wicked men who might +interfere with him; and under the head of wicked men he classed all whom +he knew to be wicked, and most other men, whom he supposed to be so. He +was not a self-righteous man--at least, not more self-righteous than +most men, for he read with as great fervour the adjurations against sins +into which he might fall as against those which seemed to him pointed +more especially at other sinners who might persecute him for his +innocence. He was only a suspicious man made narrower by isolation, and +the highest idea he had of what God required of him was a life of +innocence. There was better in him than this--much of impulse and action +that was positively good; but he did not conceive that it was of the +workings of good that seemed so natural that God took account. + +Upon Saul also the psalm had adequate effect, for it sounded to him +pious, and that was all he desired. + +The girl, however, could not listen to a word of it. She fidgeted, not +with movement of hands or feet, but with the restlessness of mind and +eyes. She gazed at the boards of the ceiling, at the boards of the +floor, at the log walls on which each shadow had a scalloped edge +because of the form of tree-trunks laid one above another. At length her +eyes rested on the lid of the coffin, and, with nervous strain, she made +them follow the grain of the wood up and down, up and down. There was an +irregular knothole in the lid, and on this her eyes fixed themselves, +and the focus of her sight seemed to eddy round and round its darkened +edge till, with an effort, she turned from it. + +The boards used for making the coffin had been by no means perfect. +They were merely the best that could be chosen from among the bits of +sawn lumber at hand. There was a tiny hole in one side, at the foot, and +this larger one in the lid above the dead man's breast, where knots had +fallen out with rough handling, leaving oval apertures. The temptation +Sissy felt to let her eyes labour painfully over every marking in the +wood and round these two holes--playing a sort of sad mechanical game +therewith--and her efforts to resist the impulse, made up the only +memory she had of the time the reading occupied. + +There was a printed prayer upon a piece of paper kept inside the lid of +the Bible, and when Bates had read the psalm, he read this also. He +knelt while he did so, and the others did the same. Then that was +finished. + +"I'll move your bed into the kitchen, Sissy," said Bates. + +He had made the same offer the night before, and she had accepted it +then, but now she replied that she would sooner sleep in that room than +near the stove. He was in no mood to contest such a point with her. Saul +went out to his shed. Bates shut the house door, and went up the ladder +to his loft. Both were soon in the sound slumber that is the lot of men +who do much outdoor labour. + +The girl helped the old woman to bed in the kitchen. Then she went back +and sat in the chamber of death. + +Outside, the wind hustled the fallen leaves. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +At dawn Bates came down the ladder again, and went out quietly. The new +day was fair, and calm; none of his fears were fulfilled. The dead man +might start upon his journey, and Bates knew that the start must be an +early one. + +He and Saul, taking long-handled oars and poles, went down to the +water's edge, where a big, flat-bottomed boat was lying drawn up on the +shore to avoid the autumn storms. The stones of the beach looked black: +here and there were bits of bright green moss upon them: both stones and +moss had a coating of thin ice that glistened in the morning light. + +It was by dint of great exertion that they got the clumsy vessel into +the water and fastened her to a small wooden landing. They used more +strength than time in their work. There was none of that care and skill +required in the handling of the scow that a well-built craft would have +needed. When she was afloat and tied, they went up the hill again, and +harnessed a yoke of oxen to a rough wooden cart. Neither did this take +them long. Bates worked with a nervousness that almost amounted to +trembling. He had in his mind the dispute with the girl which he felt +sure awaited him. + +In this fear also he was destined to be disappointed. When he went to +the inner room the coffin lay as he had left it, ready for its journey, +and on the girl's bed in the corner the thick quilts were heaped as +though the sleeper, had tossed restlessly. But now there was no +restlessness; he only saw her night-cap beyond the quills; it seemed +that, having perhaps turned her face to the wall to weep, she had at +last fallen into exhausted and dreamless slumber. + +Bates and Saul carried out the coffin eagerly, quietly. Even to the +callous and shallow mind of Saul it was a relief to escape a contest +with an angry woman. They set the coffin on the cart, and steadied it +with a barrel of potash and sacks of buckwheat, which went to make up +the load. By a winding way, where the slope was easiest, they drove the +oxen between the trees, using the goad more and their voices as little +as might be, till they were a distance from the house. Some trees had +been felled, and cut off close to the ground, so that a cart might pass +through the wood; this was the only sign of an artificial road. The fine +powdered snow of the night before had blown away. + +When they reached the beach again, the eastern sky, which had been +grey, was all dappled with cold pink, and the grey water reflected it +somewhat. There was clearer light on the dark green of the pine-covered +hills, and the fine ice coating on stone and weed at the waterside had +sharper glints of brilliancy. + +Bates observed the change in light and colour; Saul did not; neither was +disposed to dally for a moment. They were obliged to give forth their +voices now in hoarse ejaculations, to make the patient beasts understand +that they were to step off the rough log landing-place into the boat. +The boat was almost rectangular in shape, but slightly narrower at the +ends than in the middle, and deeper in the middle than at the ends; it +was of rough wood, unpainted. The men disposed the oxen in the middle of +the boat; the cart they unloaded, and distributed its contents as they +best might. With long stout poles they then pushed off from the shore. +Men and oxen were reflected in the quiet water. + +They were not bound on a long or perilous voyage. The boat was merely to +act as a ferry round a precipitous cliff where the shore was impassable, +and across the head of the gushing river that formed the lake's outlet, +for the only road through the hills lay along the further shore of this +stream. + +The men kept the boat in shallow water, poling and rowing by turns. +There was a thin coating of ice, like white silk, forming on the water. +As they went, Bates often looked anxiously where the log house stood on +the slope above him, fearing to see the girl come running frantic to the +water's edge, but he did not see her. The door of the house remained +shut, and no smoke rose from its chimney. They had left the childish old +woman sitting on the edge of her bed; Bates knew that she would be in +need of fire and food, yet he could not wish that the girl should wake +yet. "Let her sleep," he muttered to himself. "It will do her good." +Yet it was not for her good he wished her to sleep, but for his own +peace. + +The pink faded from the sky, but the sun did not shine forth brightly. +It remained wan and cold, like a moon behind grey vapours. + +"I'll not get back in a week, or on wheels," said Saul. He spoke more +cheerfully than was pleasing to his employer. + +"If it snows ye'll have to hire a sleigh and get back the first minute +you can." The reply was stern. + +The elder and bigger man made no further comment. However much he might +desire to be kept in the gay world by the weather, the stronger will and +intellect, for the hour at least, dominated his intention. + +They rowed their boat past the head of the river. In an hour they had +reached that part of the shore from which the inland road might be +gained. They again loaded the cart. It, like the boat, was of the +roughest description; its two wheels were broad and heavy; a long pole +was mortised into their axle. The coffin and the potash barrel filled +the cart's breadth; the sacks of buckwheat steadied the barrel before +and behind. The meek red oxen were once more fastened to it on either +side of the long pole. The men parted without farewells. + +Saul turned his back on the water. The large, cold morning rang to his +voice--"Gee. Yo-hoi-ist. Yo-hoi-eest. Gee." The oxen, answering to his +voice and his goad, laboured onward over the sandy strip that bound the +beach, up the hill among the maple trees that grew thickly in the vale +of the small river. Bates watched till he saw the cattle, the cart, and +Saul's stalwart form only indistinctly through the numerous grey +tree-stems that broke the view in something the way that ripples in +water break a reflection. When the monotonous shouting of Saul's +voice--"Gee, gee, there. Haw, wo, haw. Yo-hoi-eest," was somewhat +mellowed by the widening space, Bates stepped into the boat, and, +pushing off, laboured alone to propel her back across the lake. + +It took him longer to get back now that he was single-handed. The +current of the lake towards its outlet tended to push the great clumsy +scow against the shore. He worked his craft with one oar near the stern, +but very often he was obliged to drop it and push out from shore with +his pole. It was arduous, but all sense of the cold, bleak weather was +lost, and the interest and excitement of the task were refreshing. To +many men, as to many dogs, there is an inexplicable and unreasoning +pleasure in dealing with water that no operation upon land can yield. +Bates was one of these; he would hardly have chosen his present lot if +it had not been so; but, like many a dry character of his stamp, he did +not give his more agreeable sensations the name of pleasure, and +therefore could afford to look upon pleasure as an element unnecessary +to a sober life. Mid pushings and splashings, from the management of his +scow, from air and sky, hill and water, he was in reality, deriving as +great pleasure as any millionaire might from the sailing of a choice +yacht; but he was aware only that, as he neared the end of his double +journey, he felt in better trim in mind and body to face his lugubrious +and rebellious ward. + +When, however, he had toiled round the black rock cliff which hid the +clearing from the river's head, and was again in full sight of his own +house, all remembrance of the girl and his dread of meeting her passed +from him in his excessive surprise at seeing several men near his +dwelling. His dog was barking and leaping in great excitement. He heard +the voices of other dogs. It took but the first glance to show him that +the men were not Indians. Full of excited astonishment he pushed his +boat to the shore. + +His dog, having darted with noisy scatter of dry leaves down the hill to +meet him, stood on the shore expectant with mouth open, excitement in +his eyes and tail, saying as clearly as aught can be said without +words--"This is a very agreeable event in our lives. Visitors have +come." The moment Bates put his foot on land the dog bounded barking up +the hill, then turned again to Bates, then again bounded off toward the +visitors. Even a watchdog may be glad to see strangers if the pleasure +is only rare enough. + +Bates mounted the slope as a man may mount stairs--two steps at a time. +Had he seen the strangers, as the saying is, dropping from the clouds, +he could hardly have been more surprised than he was to see civilised +people had reached his place otherwise than by the lake, for the rugged +hills afforded nothing but a much longer and more arduous way to any +settlement within reach. When he got up, however, he saw that these men +carried with them implements of camp-life and also surveying +instruments, by which he judged, and rightly, that his guests were +ranging the lonely hills upon some tour of official survey. + +That the travellers _were_ his guests neither he nor they had the +slightest doubt. They had set down their traps close to his door, and, +in the calm confidence that it would soon be hospitably opened by +rightful hands, they had made no attempt to open it for themselves. +There were eight men in the party, two of whom, apparently its more +important members, sauntered to meet Bates, with pipes in their mouths. +These told him what district they were surveying, by what track they had +just come over the hill, where they had camped the past night, where +they wanted to get to by nightfall. They remarked on the situation of +his house and the extent of his land. They said to him, in fact, more +than was immediately necessary, but not more than was pleasant for him +to hear or for them to tell. It is a very taciturn man who, meeting a +stranger in a wilderness, does not treat him with more or less of +friendly loquacity. + +Under the right circumstances Bates was a genial man. He liked the look +of these men; he liked the tone of their talk; and had he liked them +much less, the rarity of the occasion and the fact that he was their +host would have expanded his spirits. He asked astute questions about +the region they had traversed, and, as they talked, he motioned them +towards the house. He had it distinctly in his mind that he was glad +they had come across his place, and that he would give them a hot +breakfast; but he did not say so in words--just as they had not troubled +to begin their conversation with him by formal greetings. + +The house door was still shut; there was still no smoke from the +chimney, although it was now full three hours since Bates had left the +place. Saying that he would see if the women were up, he went alone into +the house. The living-room was deserted, and, passing through the inner +door, which was open, he saw his aunt, who, according to custom was +neatly dressed, sitting on the foot of Sissy's empty bed. The old woman +was evidently cold, and frightened at the unusual sounds outside; +greatly fretted, she held the girl's night-cap in her hand, and the +moment he appeared demanded of him where Sissy was, for she must have +her breakfast. The girl he did not see. + +The dog had followed him. He looked up and wagged his tail; he made no +sign of feeling concern that the girl was not there. Bates could have +cursed his dumbness; he would fain have asked where she had gone. The +dog probably knew, but as for Bates, he not only did not know, but no +conjecture rose in his mind as to her probable whereabouts. + +He took his aunt to her big chair, piled the stove from the well-stored +wood-box, and lit it. Then, shutting the door of the room where the +disordered bed lay and throwing the house-door open, he bid the visitors +enter. He went out himself to search the surroundings of the house, but +Sissy was not to be found. + +The dog did not follow Bates on this search. He sat down before the +stove in an upright position, breathed with his mouth open, and bestowed +on the visitors such cheerful and animated looks that they talked to and +patted him. Their own dogs had been shut into the empty ox-shed for the +sake of peace, and the house-dog was very much master of the situation. + +Of the party, the two surveyors--one older and one younger--were men of +refinement and education. British they were, or of such Canadian birth +and training as makes a good imitation. Five of the others were +evidently of humbler position--axe-men and carriers. The eighth man, who +completed the party, was a young American, a singularly handsome young +fellow--tall and lithe. He did not stay in the room with the others, but +lounged outside by himself, leaning against the front of the house in +the white cold sunlight. + +In the meantime Bates, having searched the sheds and inspected with +careful eyes the naked woods above the clearing, came back +disconsolately by the edge of the ravine, peering into it suspiciously +to see if the girl could, by some wild freak, be hiding there. When he +came to the narrow strip of ground between the wall of the house and the +broken bank he found himself walking knee-deep in the leaves that the +last night's gale had drifted there, and because the edge of the ravine +was thus entirely concealed, he, remembering Sissy's warning, kicked +about the leaves cautiously to find the crack of which she had spoken, +and discovered that the loose portion had already fallen. It suddenly +occurred to him to wonder if the girl could possibly have fallen with +it. Instantly he sprang down the ravine, feeling among the drifted +leaves on all sides, but nothing except rock and earth was to be found +under their light heaps. It took only a few minutes to assure him of the +needlessness of his fear. The low window of the room in which Sissy had +slept looked out immediately upon this drift of leaves, and, as Bates +passed it, he glanced through the uncurtained glass, as if the fact that +it was really empty was so hard for him to believe that it needed this +additional evidence. Then the stacks of fire-wood in front of the house +were all that remained to be searched, and Bates walked round, looking +into the narrow aisles between them, looking at the same time down the +hill, as if it might be possible that she had been on the shore and he +had missed her. + +"What are you looking for?" asked the young American. The question was +not put rudely. There was a serenity about the youth's expectation of an +answer which, proving that he had no thought of over-stepping good +manners, made it, at the same time, very difficult to withhold an +answer. + +Bates turned annoyed. He had supposed everybody was within. + +"What have you lost?" repeated the youth. + +"Oh--" said Bates, prolonging the sound indefinitely. He was not +deceitful or quick at invention, and it seemed to him a manifest +absurdity to reply--"a girl." He approached the house, words hesitating +on his lips. + +"My late partner's daughter," he observed, keeping wide of the mark, +"usually does the cooking." + +"Married?" asked the young man rapidly. + +"She?--No," said Bates, taken by surprise. + +_"Young_ lady?" asked the other, with more interest. Bates was not +accustomed to consider his ward under his head. + +"She is just a young girl about seventeen," he replied stiffly. + +"Oh, halibaloo!" cried the youth joyously. "Why, stranger, I haven't set +eyes on a young lady these two months. I'd give a five dollar-bill this +minute, if I had it, to set eyes on her right here and now." He took his +pipe from his lips and clapped his hand upon his side with animation as +he spoke. + +Bates regarded him with dull disfavour. He would himself have given more +than the sum mentioned to have compassed the same end, but for different +reasons, and his own reasons were so grave that the youth's frivolity +seemed to him doubly frivolous. + +"I hope," he said coldly, "that she will come in soon." His eyes +wandered involuntarily up the hill as he spoke. + +"Gone out walking, has she?" The youth's eyes followed in the same +direction. "Which way has she gone?" + +"I don't know exactly which path she may have taken." Bates's words grew +more formal the harder he felt himself pressed. + +"Path!" burst out the young man--_"Macadamised road,_ don't you mean? +There's about as much of one as the other on this here hill." + +"I meant," said Bates, "that I didn't know where she was." + +His trouble escaped somewhat with his voice as he said this with +irritation. + +The youth looked at him curiously, and with some incipient sympathy. +After a minute's reflection he asked, touching his forehead: + +"She ain't weak here, is she--like the _old_ lady?" + +"Nothing of the sort," exclaimed Bates, indignantly. The bare idea cost +him a pang. Until this moment he had been angry with the girl; he was +still angry, but a slight modification took place. He felt with her +against all possible imputations. + +"All right in the headpiece, is she?" reiterated the other more lightly. + +"Very intelligent," replied Bates. "I have taught her myself. She is +remarkably intelligent." The young man's sensitive spirits, which had +suffered slight depression from contact with Bates's perturbation, now +recovered entirely. + +"Oh, Glorianna!" he cried in irrepressible anticipation. "Let this very +intelligent young lady come on! Why"--in an explanatory way--"if I saw +as much as a female dress hanging on a clothes-line out to dry, I'm in +that state of mind I'd adore it properly." + +If Bates had been sure that the girl would return safely he would +perhaps have been as well pleased that she should not return in time to +meet the proposed adoration; as it was, he was far too ill at ease +concerning her not to desire her advent as ardently as did the naďve +youth. The first feeling made his manner severe; the second constrained +him to say he supposed she would shortly appear. + +His mind was a good deal confounded, but if he supposed anything it was +that, having wakened to find herself left behind by the boat, she had +walked away from the house in an access of anger and disappointment, and +he expected her to return soon, because he did not think she had courage +or resolution to go very far alone. Underneath this was the uneasy fear +that her courage and resolution might take her farther into danger than +was at all desirable, but he stifled the fear. + +When he went in he told the company, in a few matter-of-fact words of +his partner's death, and the object of the excursion from which they had +seen him return. He also mentioned that his aunt's companion, the dead +man's child, had, it appeared, gone off into the woods that +morning--this was by way of apology that she was not there to cook for +them, but he took occasion to ask if they had seen her on the hill. As +they had come down the least difficult way and had not met her, he +concluded that she had not endeavoured to go far afield, and tried to +dismiss his anxiety and enjoy his guests in his own way. + +Hospitality, even in its simplest form, is more often a matter of +amiable pride than of sincere unselfishness, but it is not a form of +pride with which people are apt to quarrel. Bates, when he found himself +conversing with scientific men of gentle manners, was resolved to show +himself above the ordinary farmer of that locality. He went to the +barrel where the summer's eggs had been packed in soft sand, and took +out one apiece for the assembled company. He packed the oven with large +potatoes. He put on an excellent supply of tea to boil. The travellers, +who, in fact, had had their ordinary breakfast some hours before, made +but feeble remonstrances against these preparations, remonstrances which +only caused Bates to make more ample provision. He brought out a large +paper bag labelled, "patent self-raising pancake meal," and a small +piece of fat pork. Here he was obliged to stop and confess himself in +need of culinary skill; he looked at the men, not doubting that he could +obtain it from them. + +"The Philadelphian can do it better," said one. This was corroborated by +the others. "Call Harkness," they cried, and at the same time they +called Harkness themselves. + +The young American opened the door and came in in a very leisurely, not +to say languid, manner. He took in the situation at a glance without +asking a question. "But," said he, "are we not to wait for the +intelligent young lady? Female intelligence can make the finer pancake." + +The surveyors manifested some curiosity. "What do you know about a young +lady?" they asked. + +"The young lady of the house," replied Harkness. "Hasn't +_he"_--referring to Bates--"told you all about her? The domestic +divinity who has just happened to get mislaid this morning. I saw him +looking over the wood pile to see if she had fallen behind it, but she +hadn't." + +"It is only a few days since her father died," said the senior of the +party gravely. + +"And so," went on the young man, "she has very properly given these few +days to inconsolable grief. But now our visit is just timed to comfort +and enliven her, _why_ is she not here to be comforted and enlivened?" + +No-one answered, and, as the speaker was slowly making his way toward +the frying-pan, no one seemed really apprehensive that he would keep +them waiting. The youth had an oval, almost childish face; his skin was +dark, clear, and softly coloured as any girl's; his hair fell in black, +loose curls over his forehead. He was tall, slender without being thin, +very supple; but his languid attitudes fell short of grace, and were +only tolerable because they were comic. When he reached out his hand for +the handle of the frying-pan he held the attention of the whole company +by virtue of his office, and his mind, to Bates's annoyance, was still +running on the girl. + +"Is she fond of going out walking alone?" he asked. + +"How could she be fond of walking when there's no place to walk?" Bates +spoke roughly. "Besides, she has too much work to do." + +"Ever lost her before?" + +"No," said Bates. It would have been perfectly unbearable to his pride +that these strangers should guess his real uneasiness or its cause, so +he talked as if the fact of the girl's long absence was not in any way +remarkable. + +Having mixed a batter the American sliced pork fat into the hot pan and +was instantly obscured from view by the smoke thereof. In a minute his +face appeared above it like the face of a genius. + +"You will observe, gentlemen," he cried without bashfulness, "that I now +perform the eminently interesting operation of dropping cakes--one, two, +three. May the intelligent young lady return to eat them!" + +No one laughed, but his companions smiled patiently at his antics--a +patience born of sitting in a very hot, steamy room after weeks in the +open air. + +"You are a cook," remarked Bates. + +The youth bent his long body towards him at a sudden angle. "Born a +cook--dentist by profession--by choice a vagabond." + +"Dentist?" said Bates curiously. + +"At your service, sir." + +"He is really a dentist," said one of the surveyors with sleepy +amusement. "He carries his forceps round in his vest pocket." + +"I lost them when I scrambled head first down this gentleman's +macadamised road this morning, but if you want a tooth out I can use the +tongs." + + +"My teeth are all sound," said Bates. + +"Thank the Lord for that!" the young man answered with an emphatic piety +which, for all that appeared, might have been perfectly sincere. + +"And the young lady?" he asked after a minute. + +"What?" + +"The young lady's teeth--the teeth of the intelligent young lady--the +intelligent teeth of the young lady--are they sound?" + +"Yes." + +He sighed deeply. "And to think," he mourned, "that he should have +casually lost her _just_ this morning!" + +He spoke exactly as if the girl were a penknife or a marble that had +rolled from Bates's pocket, and the latter, irritated by an inward fear, +grew to hate the jester. + +When the meal, which consisted of fried eggs, pancakes, and potatoes, +was eaten, the surveyors spent an hour or two about the clearing, +examining the nature of the soil and rock. They had something to say to +Bates concerning the value of his land which interested him exceedingly. +Considering how rare it was for him to see any one, and how fitted he +was to appreciate intercourse with men who were manifestly in a higher +rank of life than he, it would not have been surprising if he had +forgotten Sissy for a time, even if they had had nothing to relate of +personal interest to himself. As it was, even in the excitement of +hearing what was of importance concerning his own property, he did not +wholly forget her; but while his visitors remained his anxiety was in +abeyance. + +When they were packing their instruments to depart, the young American, +who had not been with them during the morning, came and took Bates aside +in a friendly way. + +"See here," he said, "were you gassing about that young lady? There +ain't no young lady now, is there?" + +"I told you"--with some superiority of manner--"she is not a young lady; +she is a working girl, an emigrant's----" + +"Oh, Glorianna!" he broke out, "girl or lady, what does it matter to me? +Do you mean to say you've really lost her?" + +The question was appalling to Bates. All the morning he had not dared to +face such a possibility and now to have the question hurled at him with +such imperative force by another was like a terrible blow. But when a +blow is thus dealt from the outside, a man like Bates rallies all the +opposition of his nature to repel it. + +"Not at all"--his manner was as stiff as ever--"she is lurking somewhere +near." + +"Look here--I've been up the hill that way, and that way, and that +way"--he indicated the directions with his hand--"and I've been down +round the shore as far as I could get, and I've had our two dogs with +me, who'd either of them have mentioned it if there'd been a stranger +anywheres near; and she ain't here. An' if she's climbed _over_ the +hill, _she's_ a spunky one--somewhat spunkier than _I_ should think +natural." He looked at Bates very suspiciously as he spoke. + +"Well?" + +"Well, _my_ belief is that there ain't no young lady, and that you're +gassing me." + +"Very well," said Bates, and he turned away. It was offensive to him to +be accused of telling lies--he was not a man to give any other name than +"lie" to the trick attributed to him, or to perceive any humour in the +idea of it--but it was a thousand times more offensive that this youth +should have presumed to search for Sissy and to tell him that the search +had been vain. + +Horrible as the information just given was, he did not more than half +believe it, and something just said gave him a definite idea of +hope--the strange dogs had not found Sissy, but the house-dog, if +encouraged to seek, would certainly find her. He had felt a sort of +grudge against the animal all day, because he must know which way she +had gone and could not tell. Now he resolved as soon as the strangers +were gone to set the dog to seek her. Upon this he stayed his mind. + +The surveyors hoped to get a few days' more work done before the winter +put an end to their march; they determined when thus stopped to turn +down the river valley and take the train for Quebec. The way they now +wished to take lay, not in the direction in which the ox-cart had gone, +but over the hills directly across the lake. The scow belonging to this +clearing, on which they had counted, was called into requisition. + +The day was still calm; Bates had no objection to take them across. At +any other time he would have had some one to leave in charge of the +place, but especially as he would be in sight of the house all the time, +he made no difficulty of leaving as it was. He could produce four oars, +such as they were, and the way across was traversed rapidly. + +"And there ain't really a female belonging to the place, except the old +lady," said the dentist, addressing the assembled party upon the scow. +"It was all a tale, and--my eye;--he took me in completely." + +Probably he did not give entire credence to his own words, and wished to +provoke the others to question Bates further; but they were not now in +the same idle mood that had enthralled them when, in the morning, they +had listened to him indulgently. Their loins were girded; they were +intent upon what they were doing and what they were going to do. No one +but Bates paid heed to him. + +Bates heard him clearly enough, but, so stubbornly had he set himself to +rebuff this young man, and so closely was he wrapped in that pride of +reserve that makes a merit of obstinate self-reliance, that it never +even occurred to him to answer or to accept this last offer of a +fellow-man's interest in the search he was just about to undertake. + +He had some hope that, if Sissy were skulking round, she would find it +easier to go back to the house when he was absent, and that he should +find her as usual on his return; but, as he wrought at his oar in +returning across the leaden water, looking up occasionally to make the +log house his aim, and staring for the most part at the lone hills, +under the pine woods of which his late companions had disappeared, his +heart gradually grew more heavy; all the more because the cheerfulness +of their society had buoyed up his spirit in their presence, did it now +suffer depression. The awful presentiment began to haunt him that he +would not find the girl that night, that he had in grim reality "lost +her." If this were the case, what a fool, what a madman, he had been to +let go the only aid within his reach! He stopped his rowing for a +minute, and almost thought of turning to call the surveying party back +again. But no, Sissy might be--in all probability was--already in the +house; in that case what folly to have brought them back, delaying their +work and incurring their anger! So he reasoned, and went on towards +home; but, in truth, it was not their delay or displeasure that deterred +him so much as his own pride, which loathed the thought of laying bare +his cause for fear and distress. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +The day was duller now. The sun, in passing into the western sky, had +entered under thicker veils of white. The film of ice on the bay, which +had melted in the pale sunbeams of noon, would soon form again. The air +was growing bitterly cold. + +When Bates had moored his boat, he went up the hill heavily. The dog, +which had been shut in the house to guard it, leaped out when he opened +the door. Sissy was not there. + +Bates went in and found one of her frocks, and, bringing it out, tried +to put the animal on the scent of her track. He stooped, and held the +garment under the dog's nose. The dog sniffed it, laid his nose +contentedly on Bates's arm, looked up in his face, and wagged his tail +with most annoying cheerfulness. + +"Where is she?" jerked Bates. "Where is she? Seek her, good dog." + +The dog, all alert, bounded off a little way and returned again with an +inconsequent lightness in tail and eye. One of his ears had been torn in +a battle with the strange dogs, but he was more elated by the conflict +than depressed by the wound. When he came back, he seemed to Bates +almost to smile as if he said: "It pleases me that you should pay me so +much attention, but as for the girl, I know her to be satisfactorily +disposed of." Bates did not swear at the animal; he was a Scotchman, and +he would have considered it a sin to swear: he did not strike the dog +either, which he would not have considered a sin at all. He was actually +afraid to offend the only living creature who could befriend and help +him in his search. Very patiently he bent the dog's nose to the frock +and to the ground, begging and commanding him to seek. At length the dog +trotted off by a circuitous route up the clearing, and Bates followed. +He hoped the dog was really seeking, but feared he was merely following +some fancy that by thus running he would be rid of his master's +solicitude. + +Bates felt it an odd thing that he should be wandering about with a +girl's frock in his hands. It was old, but he did not remember that he +had ever touched it before or noticed its material or pattern. He looked +at it fondly now, as he held it ready to renew the dog's memory if his +purpose should falter. + +The dog went on steadily enough until he got to the edge of the woods, +where his footsteps made a great noise on the brittle leaves. He kicked +about in them as if he liked the noise they made, but offered to go no +farther. Bates looked at them and knew that the dog was not likely to +keep the scent among them if the girl had gone that way. He stood erect, +looking up the drear expanse of the hill, and the desperate nature of +his situation came upon him. He had been slow--slow to take it in, +repelling it with all the obstinacy of an obstinate mind. Now he saw +clearly that the girl had fled, and he was powerless to pursue at the +distance she might now have reached, the more so as he could not tell +which way she had taken. He would have left his live stock, but the +helpless old woman, whose life depended on his care, he dared not leave. +He stood and considered, his mind working rapidly under a stress of +emotion such as perhaps it had never known before--certainly not since +the first strong impulses of his youth had died within his cautious +heart. + +Then he remembered that Sissy had walked about the previous day, and +perhaps the dog was only on the scent of yesterday's meanderings. He +took the animal along the top of the open space, urging him to find +another track, and at last the dog ran down again by the side of the +stream. Bates followed to the vicinity of the house, no wiser than he +had been at first. + +The dog stopped under the end window of the house where old Cameron +fell, and scratched among the leaves on the fresh fallen earth. Bates +was reminded of the associations of the fatal spot. He thought of his +old friend's deathbed, of the trust that had there been confided to him. +Had he been unfaithful to that trust? With the impatience of sharp pain, +he called the dog again to the door of the house, and again from that +starting-point tried to make him seek the missing one. He did this, not +because he had much hope in the dog now, but because he had no other +hope. + +This time the dog stood by, sobered by his master's soberness, but +looking with teasing expectancy, ready to do whatever was required if he +might only know what that was. To Bates, who was only anxious to act at +the dumb thing's direction, this expectancy was galling. He tore off a +part of the dress and fastened it to the dog's collar. He commanded him +to carry it to her in such excited tones that the old woman heard, and +fumbled her way out of the door to see what was going on. And Bates +stood between the dumb animal and the aged wreck of womanhood, and felt +horribly alone. + +Clearly the sagacious creature not only did not know where to find the +girl, but knew that she was gone where he could not find her, for he +made no effort to carry his burden a step. Bates took it from him at +last, and the dog, whose feelings had apparently been much perturbed, +went down to the water's edge, and, standing looking over the lake, +barked there till darkness fell. + +The night came, but the girl did not come. Bates made a great torch of +pine boughs and resin, and this he lit and hoisted on a pole fixed in +the ground, so that if she was seeking to return to her home in the +darkness she might be guided by it. He hoped also that, by some chance, +the surveying party might see it and know that it was a signal of +distress; but he looked for their camp-fire on the opposite hills, and, +not seeing it, felt only too sure that they had gone out of sight of +his. He fed and watched his torch all night. Snow began to fall; as he +looked up it seemed that the flame made a globe of light in the thick +atmosphere, around which closed a low vault of visible darkness. From +out of this darkness the flakes were falling thickly. When the day broke +he was still alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +When Saul and the oxen were once fairly started, they plodded on +steadily. The track lay some way from the river and above it, through +the gap in the hills. Little of the hills did Saul see for he was moving +under trees all the way, and when, before noon, he descended into the +plain on the other side, he was still for a short time under a canopy of +interlacing boughs. There was no road; the trees were notched to show +the track. In such forests there is little obstruction of brushwood, and +over knoll and hollow, between the trunks, the oxen laboured on. Saul +sat on the front ledge of the cart to balance it the better. The coffin, +wedged in with the potash barrel, lay pretty still as long as they kept +on the soft soil of the forest, but when, about one o'clock, the team +emerged upon a corduroy road, made of logs lying side by side across the +path, the jolting often jerked the barrel out of place, and then Saul +would go to the back of the cart and jerk it and the coffin into +position again. + +The forest was behind them now. This log road was constructed across a +large tract which sometime since had been cleared by a forest fire, but +was now covered again by thick brush standing eight or ten feet high. +One could see little on either side the road except the brown and grey +twigs of the saplings that grew by the million, packed close together. +The way had been cut among them, yet they were forcing their sharp +shoots up again between the seams of the corduroy, and where, here and +there, a log had rotted they came up thickly. The ground was low, and +would have been wet about the bushes had it not been frozen. Above, the +sky was white. Saul could see nothing but his straight road before and +behind, the impenetrable thicket and the white sky. It was a lonely +thing thus to journey. + +While he had been under the forest, with an occasional squirrel or +chipmunk to arrest his gaze, and with all things as familiar to sight as +the environments of the house in which he was accustomed to live, Saul +had felt the vigour of the morning, and eaten his cold fat bacon, +sitting on the cart, without discontent. But now it was +afternoon--which, we all know, brings a somewhat more depressing +air--and the budless thickets stood so close, so still, Saul became +conscious that his load was a corpse. He had hoped, in a dull way, to +fall in with a companion on this made road; the chances were against it, +and the chances prevailed. Saul ate more bread and bacon. He had to walk +now, and often to give the cart a push, so that the way was laborious; +but, curiously enough, it was not the labour he objected to, but the +sound of his own voice. All the way the silent thicket was listening to +his "Gee-e, gee; haw then";--"yo-hoi-eest"; yet, as he and his oxen +progressed further into the quiet afternoon, he gradually grew more and +more timid at the shouts he must raise. It seemed to him that the dead +man was listening, or that unknown shapes or essences might be disturbed +by his voice and rush out from the thicket upon him. Such fears he +had--wordless fears, such as men never repeat and soon forget. Rough, +dull, hardy woodman as he was, he felt now as a child feels in the dark, +afraid of he knew not what. + +The way was very weary. He trudged on beside the cart. Something went +wrong with one of his boots, and he stopped the oxen in order to take it +off. The animals, thus checked, stood absolutely still, hanging down +their heads in an attitude of rest. The man went behind the cart and sat +on its edge. He leaned on the end of the coffin as he examined the boot. +When that was put right he could not deny himself the luxury of a few +minutes' rest. The oxen, with hanging heads, looked as if they had gone +to sleep. The man hung his head also, and might have been dozing from +his appearance. He was not asleep, however. What mental machinery he had +began to work more freely, and he actually did something that might be +called thinking on the one subject that had lain as a dormant matter of +curiosity in his head all day--namely, how the girl would act when she +woke to find the cart was actually gone and she left behind. He had seen +old Cameron die, and heard Bates promise to do his best for his +daughter; he remembered her tears and pleading on the preceding day; the +situation came to him now, as perceptions come to dull minds, with force +that had gathered with the lapse of time. He had not the refinement and +acuteness of mind necessary to make him understand the disinterested +element in Bates's tyranny, and while he sympathised cunningly with the +selfishness of which, in his mind, he accused Bates, it seemed to him +that the promise to the dead was broken, and he thought upon such +calamities as might befall in token of the dead man's revenge. + +How awfully silent it was! There was no breath in the chill, still air; +there was no sound of life in all the dark, close brushwood; the oxen +slept; and Saul, appalled by the silence that had come with his silence, +appalled to realise more vividly than ever that he, and he alone, had +been the instigator of voice in all that region, was cowed into thinking +that, if the dead could rise from the grave for purposes of revenge, how +much more easily could he rise now from so crude a coffin as he himself +had helped to construct for him! + +It was in this absolute silence that he heard a sound. He heard the dead +man turn in his coffin! He heard, and did not doubt his hearing; it was +not a thing that he could easily be deceived about as he sat with his +elbow on the coffin. He sat there not one instant longer; the next +moment he was twenty feet away, standing half-hidden in the edge of the +brushwood, staring at the cart and the coffin, ready to plunge into the +icy swamp and hide farther among the young trees if occasion required. +Occasion did not require. The oxen dozed on; the cart, the barrel, and +the coffin stood just as he had left them. + +Perhaps for five minutes the frightened man was still. Gradually his +muscles relaxed, and he ceased to stand with limbs and features all +drawn in horror away from the coffin. He next pulled back his foot from +the icy marsh; but even then, having regained his equilibrium on the +road, he had not decided what to do, and it took him some time longer to +turn over the situation in his mind. He had heard the dead man move; he +was terribly frightened; still, it might have been a mistake, and, any +way, the most disagreeable course, clearly, was to remain there till +nightfall. He had run backward in his first alarm; so, to get to the +nearest habitation, it would be necessary to pass the cart on the road, +even if he left it there. Had any further manifestation of vitality +appeared on the part of the corpse he would have felt justified in +running back into the forest, but this was an extreme measure. He did +not wish to go near the cart, but to turn his back upon it seemed almost +as fearsome. He stood facing it, as a man faces a fierce dog, knowing +that if he turns and runs the dog will pursue. He supposed that as long +as he stared at the coffin and saw nothing he could be sure that the +deceased remained inside, but that if he gave the ghost opportunity to +get out on the sly it might afterwards come at him from any point of the +compass. He was an ignorant man, with a vulgar mind; he had some +reverence for a corpse, but none whatever for a ghost. His mind had +undergone a change concerning the dead the moment he had heard him move, +and he looked upon his charge now as equally despicable and gruesome. + +After some further delay he discovered that the course least +disagreeable would be to drive the oxen with his voice and walk as far +behind the cart as he now was, keeping the pine box with four nails on +its lid well in view. Accordingly, making a great effort to encourage +himself to break the silence, he raised his shout in the accustomed +command to the oxen, and after it had been repeated once or twice, they +strained at the cart and set themselves to the road again. They did not +go as fast as when the goad was within reach of their flanks; or rather; +they went more slowly than then, for "fast" was not a word that could +have been applied to their progress before. Yet they went on the whole +steadily, and the "Gee" and "Haw" of the gruff voice behind guided them +straight as surely as bit and rein. + +At length it could be seen in the distance that the road turned; and +round this turning another human figure came in sight. Perhaps in all +his life Saul never experienced greater pleasure in meeting another man +than he did now, yet his exterior remained gruff and unperturbed. The +only notice that he appeared to take of his fellow-man was to adjust his +pace so that, as the other came nearer the cart in front, Saul caught up +with it in the rear. At last they met close behind it, and then, as +nature prompted, they both stopped. + +The last comer upon the desolate scene was a large, hulking boy. He had +been plodding heavily with a sack upon his back. As he stopped, he set +this upon the ground and wiped his brow. + +The boy was French; but Saul, as a native of the province, talked +French about as well as he did English--that is to say, very badly. He +could not have written a word of either.--The conversation went on in +the _patois_ of the district. + +"What is in the box?" asked the boy, observing that the carter's eyes +rested uneasily upon it. + +"Old Cameron died at our place the day before yesterday," answered Saul, +not with desire to evade, but because it did not seem necessary to +answer more directly. + +"What of?" The boy looked at the box with more interest now. + +"He died of a fall"--briefly. + +The questioner looked at the pinewood box now with considerable +solicitude. "Did his feet swell?" he asked. As Saul did not immediately +assent, he added--"When the old M. Didier died, his feet swelled." + +"What do you think of the coffin?" Saul said this eyeing it as if he +were critically considering it as a piece of workmanship. + +"M. Didier made a much better one for his little child," replied the +boy. + +"If he did, neither Mr. Bates nor me is handy at this sort of work. We +haven't been used to it. It's a rough thing. Touch it. You will see it's +badly made." + +He gained his object. The boy fingered the coffin, and although he did +not praise the handiwork, it seemed to Saul that some horrid spell was +broken when human hands had again touched the box and no evil had +resulted. + +"Why didn't you bury him at home?" asked the boy. "He was English." + +"Mr. Bates has strict ideas, though he is English. He wanted it done +proper, in a graveyard, by a minister. He has wrote to the minister at +St. Hennon's and sent money for the burying--Mr. Bates, he is always +particular." + +"You are not going to St. Hennon's?" said the boy incredulously. "I'll +stay to-night at Turrifs, and go on in the morning. It's four days' walk +for me and the cattle to go and come, but I shall take back a man to cut +the trees." + +"Why not send him by the new railroad?" + +"It does not stop at Turrifs." + +"Yes; they stop at the cross-roads now, not more than three miles from +Turrifs, There's a new station, and an Englishman set to keep it. I've +just brought this sack of flour from there. M. Didier had it come by the +cars." + +"When do they pass to St. Hennon's?" asked Saul meditatively,--"But +anyway, the Englishman wouldn't like to take in a coffin." + +"They pass some time in the night; and he must take it in if you write +on it where it's going. It's not his business to say what the cars will +take, if you pay." + +"Well," said Saul. "Good-day. Yo-hoist! Yo, yo, ho-hoist!" + +It did not seem to him necessary to state whether he was, or was not, +going to take the advice offered. The straining and creaking of the +cart, his shouts to the oxen, would have obliterated any further query +the boy might have made. He had fairly moved off when the boy also took +up his burden and trudged on the other way. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +When the blueberry bushes are dry, all the life in them, sucked into +their roots against another summer, the tops turn a rich, brownish red; +at this time, also, wild bramble thickets have many a crimson stalk that +gives colour to their mass, and the twigs that rise above the white +trunks of birch trees are not grey, but brown. + +Round the new railway station at the cross-roads near Turrifs +Settlement, the low-lying land, for miles and miles, was covered with, +blueberry bushes; bramble thickets were here and there; and where the +land rose a little, in irregular places, young birch woods stood. If the +snow had sprinkled here, as it had upon the hills the night before, +there was no sign of it now. The warm colour of the land seemed to glow +against the dulness of the afternoon, not with the sparkle and +brightness which colour has in sunshine, but with the glow of a sleeping +ember among its ashes. Round the west there was metallic blue colouring +upon the cloud vault. This colouring was not like a light upon the +cloud, it was like a shadow upon it; yet it was not grey, but blue. +Where the long straight road from Turrifs and the long straight road +from the hills crossed each other, and were crossed by the unprotected +railway track with its endless rows of tree-trunks serving as telegraph +poles, the new station stood. + +It was merely a small barn, newly built of pinewood, divided into two +rooms--one serving as a store-room for goods, the other as waiting-room, +ticket office, and living-room of the station-master. The +station-master, who was, in fact, master, clerk, and porter in one, was +as new to his surroundings as the little fresh-smelling pinewood house. +He was a young Englishman, and at the first glance it could be seen he +had not long been living in his present place. He had, indeed, not yet +given up shaving himself, and his clothes, although rough, warm, and +suited to his occupation, still suggested, not homespun, but an outfit +bought of a tailor. + +It was about four o'clock on that November afternoon when the new +official of the new station looked out at the dark red land and the +bright-tinted cloud. It was intensely cold. The ruts of the roads, which +were not made of logs here, were frozen stiff. The young man stood a +minute at his door with his hands in his pockets, sniffed the frost, and +turned in with an air of distaste. A letter that had been brought him by +the morning train lay on his table, addressed to "Alec Trenholme, Esq." +It had seen vicissitudes, and been to several addresses in different +cities, before it had been finally readdressed to this new station. +Perhaps its owner had not found the path to fortune which he sought in +the New World as easily accessible as he had expected. Whether he had +now found it or not, he set himself to that which he had found in manly +fashion. + +Coming in from the cold without, and shutting himself in, as he +supposed, for the evening, he wisely determined to alleviate the +peculiar feeling of cold and desolation which the weather was fitted to +induce by having an early tea. He set his pan upon a somewhat rusty +stove and put generous slices of ham therein to fry. He made tea, and +then set forth his store of bread, his plates and cup, upon the table, +with some apparent effort to make the meal look attractive. The frying +ham soon smelt delicious, and while it was growing brown, Alec Trenholme +read his letter for the fifth time that day. It was not a letter that he +liked, but, since the morning train, only two human beings had passed by +the station, and the young station-master would have read and re-read a +more disagreeable epistle than the one which had fallen to his lot. It +was dated from a place called Chellaston, and was from his brother. It +was couched in terms of affection, and contained a long, closely +reasoned argument, with the tenor of which it would seem the reader did +not agree, for he smiled at it scornfully! + +He had not re-read his letter and dished his ham before sounds on the +road assured him an ox-cart was approaching, and, with an eagerness to +see who it might be which cannot be comprehended by those who have not +lived in isolation, he went out to see Saul and his cattle coming at an +even pace down the road from the hills. The cart ran more easily now +that the road was of the better sort, and the spirits of both man and +beasts were so raised by the sight of a house that they all seemed in +better form for work than when in the middle of their journey. + +Alec Trenholme waited till the cart drew up between his door and the +railway track, and regarded the giant stature of the lumberman, his +small, round head, red cheeks, and luxuriant whiskers, with that +intense but unreflecting interest which the lonely bestow upon +unexpected company. He looked also, with an eye to his own business, at +the contents of the cart, and gave the man a civil "good evening." + +As he spoke, his voice and accent fell upon the air of this wilderness +as a rarely pleasant thing to hear. Saul hastily dressed his whiskers +with his horny left-hand before he answered, but even then, he omitted +to return the greeting. + +"I want to know," he said, sidling up, "how much it would cost to send +that by the cars to St. Hennon's." He nudged his elbow towards the +coffin as he spoke. + +"That box?" asked the station-master. "How much does it weigh?" + +"We might weigh it if I'd some notion first about how much I'd need to +pay." + +"What's in it?" + +Saul smoothed his whiskers again. "Well," he said--then, after a slight +pause--"it's a dead man." + +"Oh!" said Trenholme. Some habit of politeness, unnecessary here, kept +his exclamation from expressing the interest he instantly felt. In a +country where there are few men to die, even death assumes the form of +an almost agreeable change as a matter of lively concern. Then, after a +pause which both men felt to be suitable, "I suppose there is a special +rate for--that sort of thing, you know. I really haven't been here very +long. I will look it up. I suppose you have a certificate of death, +haven't you?" + +Again Saul dressed his whiskers. His attention to them was his +recognition of the fact that Trenholme impressed him as a superior. + +"I don't know about a certificate. You've heard of the Bates and Cameron +clearin', I s'pose; it's old Cameron that's dead"--again he nudged his +elbow coffinward--"and Mr. Bates he wrote a letter to the minister at +St. Hennon's." + +He took the letter from his pocket as he spoke, and Trenholme perceived +that it was addressed in a legible hand and sealed. + +"I fancy it's all right," said he doubtfully. He really had not any idea +what the railway might require before he took the thing in charge. + +Saul did not make answer. He was not quite sure it was all right, but +the sort of wrongness he feared was not to be confided to the man into +whose care he desired to shove the objectionable burden. + +"What did he die of?" asked the young man. + +"He fell down, and he seemed for some days as if he'd get over it; then +he was took sudden. We put his feet into a hot pot of water and made him +drink lye." + +"Lye?" + +"Ash water--but we gave it him weak." + +"Oh." + +"But--he died." + +"Well, that was sad. Does he leave a wife and family?" + +"No," said Saul briefly. "But how much must I pay to have the cars take +it the rest of the way?" + +Trenholme stepped into his room and lit his lamp that he might better +examine his list of rates. Saul came inside to warm himself at the +stove. The lamp in that little room was the one spot of yellow light in +the whole world that lay in sight, yet outside it was not yet dark, only +dull and bitterly cold. + +Trenholme stood near the lamp, reading fine print upon a large card. The +railway was only just opened and its tariff incomplete as yet. He found +no particular provision made for the carriage of coffins. It took him +some minutes to consider under what class of freight to reckon this, but +he decided not to weigh it. Saul looked at the room, the ham and tea, +and at Trenholme, with quiet curiosity in his beady eyes. Outside, the +oxen hung their heads and dozed again. + +"You see," said Saul, "I'll get there myself with the potash to-morrow +night; then I can arrange with the minister." + +He had so much difficulty in producing the requisite number of coins for +the carriage that it was evident the potash could not be sent by train +too; but Trenholme was familiar now with the mode of life that could +give time of man and beast so easily, and find such difficulty in +producing a little money of far less value. He did remark that, as the +cart was to complete the journey, the coffin might as well travel the +second day as it had done the first; but, Saul showed reluctance to hear +this expostulation, and certainly it was not the station-master's +business to insist. The whole discussion did not take long. Saul was +evidently in a haste not usual to such as he, and Trenholme felt a +natural desire to sit down to his tea, the cooking of which filled the +place with grateful perfume. Saul's haste showed itself more in nervous +demeanour than in capacity to get through the interview quickly. Even +when the money was paid, he loitered awkwardly. Trenholme went into his +store-room, and threw open its double doors to the outside air. + +"Help me in with it, will you?" + +It was the pleasant authority of his tone that roused the other to +alacrity. They shouldered the coffin between them. The store-room was +fairly large and contained little. Trenholme placed the coffin +reverently by itself in an empty corner. He brought a pot of black paint +and a brush, and printed on it the necessary address. Then he thought a +moment, and added in another place the inscription--"Box containing +coffin--to be handled with care." + +It is to be remarked how dependent we are for the simplest actions on +the teaching we have had. Never having received the smallest instruction +as to how to deal with such a charge, it cost him effort of thought and +some courage to put on this inscription. Saul watched, divided between +curious interest and his desire to be away. + +"You've got another coffin inside this case, of course?" said the +station-master, struck with a sudden doubt. + +To him, polished wood and silver plating seemed such a natural accessory +of death that he had, without thought, always associated the one idea +with the other. + +"No, that's all there is. We made it too large by mistake, but we put a +bed quilt in for stuffing." + +"But, my man, it isn't very well put together; the lid isn't tight." + +"No--neither it is." Saul had already sidled to the door. + +Trenholme felt it with his thumb and fingers. + +"It's perfectly loose," he cried. "It's only got a few nails in the lid. +You ought to have put in screws, you know." + +"Yes, but we hadn't got any; we had used the last screws we had for the +hinge of a door. I'm going to buy some to put in at St. Hennon's. +Good-day." + +As they spoke, Saul had been going to his cart, and Trenholme following, +with authoritative displeasure in his mien. + +"It's exceedingly careless--upon my word. Come back and nail it up +firmer," cried he. + +But Saul drove off. + +The young station-master went back to the store-room. He looked at the +box for a moment, with annoyance still in his mind. The air that he had +would have sat well upon a man with servants under him, but was somewhat +futile in the keeper of a desolate railway-station. He had not been able +to command the man, and he certainly could not command the coffin to +nail itself more firmly together. After all, his tea waited. Somewhat +sullenly he barred the double door on the inside, and went back to his +own room and his evening meal. + +The room was filled with the steam of the boiling tea as he poured it +out, and the smoke of the ham gravy. With the strength of youth and +health he thrust aside the annoyance of his official position from his +present mind, and set himself to his supper with considerable +satisfaction. + +He had not, however, eaten a single morsel before he heard a sound in +the next room which caused him to sit erect and almost rigid, forgetting +his food. He had been so pre-occupied a minute before with the +carelessness of those who constructed the coffin that he had left the +inner door between the two rooms ajar. It was through this that the +sound came, and it seemed to his quickened sense to proceed from the +corner in which the pinewood box reposed, but he hastily went over all +the contents of the room to think if any of them could be falling or +shifting among themselves. The sound still continued; it seemed as if +something was being gently worked to and fro, as in a soft socket. His +imagination was not very quick to represent impossible dangers, nor had +he in him more cowardice than dwells in most brave men. He did not allow +himself to conclude that he heard the coffin-lid being opened from the +inside. He took his lamp and went to see what was wrong. + +The sound ceased as he moved. When the light of the lamp was in the next +room all was perfectly silent. For almost half a minute he stood still, +shading his eyes from the lamp, while, with every disagreeable sensation +crowding upon him, he observed distinctly that, although the nails were +still holding it loosely in place, the lid of the coffin was raised half +an inch, more than that indeed, at the top. + +"Now, look here, you know--this won't do," said Trenholme, in loud +authoritative tones; so transported was he by the disagreeableness of +his situation that, for the moment, he supposed himself speaking to the +man with whom he had just spoken. Then, realising that that man, +although gone, was yet probably within call, he set down the lamp +hastily and ran out. + +It seemed to him remarkable that Saul and the oxen could have gone so +far along the road, although of course they were still plainly in +sight. He shouted, but received no answer. He raised his voice and +shouted again and again, with force and authority. He ran, as he +shouted, about twenty paces. In return he only heard Saul's own commands +to his oxen. Whether the man was making so much noise himself that he +could not hear, or whether he heard and would not attend, Trenholme +could not tell, but he felt at the moment too angry to run after him +farther. It was not his place to wait upon this carter and run his +errands! Upon this impulse he turned again. + +However, as he walked back, the chill frost striking his bare head, he +felt more diffidence and perplexity about his next action than was at +all usual to him. He knew that he had no inclination to investigate the +contents of the box. All the curiosity stirred within him still failed +to create the least desire to pry further; but, on the other hand, he +could not think it right to leave the matter as it was. A strong feeling +of duty commanding him to open the coffin and see that all was right, +and a stout aversion to performing this duty, were the main elements of +his consciousness during the minutes in which he retraced his steps to +the house. + +He had set down the lamp on a package just within the baggage-room door, +so that his own room, by which he entered, was pretty dark, save for the +fire showing through the damper of the stove. Trenholme stopped in it +just one moment to listen; then, unwilling to encourage hesitation in +himself, went through the next door. His hand was outstretched to take +the lamp, his purpose was clearly defined--to go to the far corner and +examine the coffin-lid. Hand and thought arrested, he stopped on the +threshold, for the lid was thrown off the coffin, and beside it stood a +figure. + +The lamp, which did not throw very much light across the comparatively +large empty room, was so placed that what light there was came directly +in Trenholme's eyes. Afterwards he remembered this, and wondered whether +all that he thought he saw had, in fact, been clearly seen; but at the +moment he thought nothing of the inadequacy of light or of the glare in +his eyes; he only knew that there, in the far corner beside the empty +coffin, stood a white figure--very tall to his vision, very lank, with +white drapery that clothed it round the head like a cowl and spread upon +the floor around its feet. But all that was not what arrested his +attention and chilled his strong courage, it was the eyes of the figure, +which were clearly to be seen--large, frightened, fierce eyes, that met +his own with a courage and terror in them which seemed to quell his own +courage and impart terror to him. Above them he saw the form of a pallid +brow clearly moulded. He did not remember the rest of the face--perhaps +the white clothes wrapped it around. While the eyes struck him with awe, +he had a curious idea that the thing had been interrupted in arranging +its own winding sheet, and was waiting until he retired again to finish +its toilet. This was merely a grotesque side-current of thought. He was +held and awed by the surprise of the face, for those eyes seemed to him +to belong to no earthly part of the old man who, he had been told, lay +there dead. Drawn by death or exhaustion as the face around them looked, +the eyes themselves appeared unearthly in their large brightness. + +He never knew whether his next action was urged more by fear, or by the +strong sense of justice that had first prompted him to call back the +carter as the proper person to deal with the contents of the coffin. +Whatever the motive, it acted quickly. He drew back; closed the door; +locked it on the side of his own room; and set out again to bring back +the man. This time he should hear and should return. Trenholme did not +spare his voice, and the wide lonely land resounded to his shout. And +this time he was not too proud to run, but went at full speed and +shouted too. + +Saul undoubtedly saw and heard him, for he faced about and looked. +Perhaps something in the very way in which Trenholme ran suggested why +he ran. Instead of responding to the command to return, he himself +began to run away and madly to goad his oxen. There are those who +suppose oxen yoked to a cart cannot run, but on occasion they can plunge +into a wild heavy gallop that man is powerless to curb. The great +strength latent in these animals was apparent now, for, after their long +day's draught, they seemed to become imbued with their driver's panic, +and changed from walking to dashing madly down the road. It was a long +straight incline of three miles from the station to the settlement +called Turrifs. Saul, unable to keep up with the cattle, flung himself +upon the cart, and, with great rattling, was borne swiftly away from his +pursuer. Young Trenholme stopped when he had run a mile. So far he had +gone, determined that, if the man would not stop for his commands, he +should be collared and dragged back by main force to face the thing +which he had brought, but by degrees even the angry young man perceived +the futility of chasing mad cattle. He drew up panting, and, turning, +walked back once more. He did not walk slowly; he was in no frame to +loiter and his run had brought such a flush of heat upon him that it +would have been madness to linger in the bitter cold. At the same time, +while his legs moved rapidly, his mind certainly hesitated--in fact, it +almost halted, unable to foresee in the least what its next opinion or +decision would be. He was not a man to pause in order to make up his +mind. He had a strong feeling of responsibility towards his little +station and its inexplicable tenant, therefore he hurried back against +his will. His only consolation in this backward walk was the key of the +door he had locked, which in haste he had taken out and still held in +his hand. Without attempting to decide whether the thing he had seen was +of common clay or of some lighter substance, he still did not lend his +mind with sufficient readiness to ghostly theory to imagine that his +unwelcome guest could pass through locked doors. + +Nor did the ghost, if ghost it was, pass through unopened doors. The +flaw in Trenholme's comfortable theory was that he had forgotten that +the large double door, which opened from the baggage room to the railway +track, was barred on the inside. When he got back to his place he found +this door ajar, and neither in his own room, nor in the baggage room, +nor in the coffin, was there sign of human presence, living or dead. + +All the world about lay in the clear white twilight. The blueberry +flats, the bramble-holts, were red. The clouded sky was white, except +for that metallic blue tinge in the west, through which, in some thin +places, a pale glow of yellower light was now visible, the last rays of +the day that had set. It was this world on which the young Englishman +looked as, amazed and somewhat affrighted, he walked round the building, +searching on all sides for the creature that could hardly yet, had it +run away in such a level land, be wholly out of sight. + +He went indoors again to make sure that nothing was there, and this time +he made a discovery--his tea was gone from his cup. He gave a shudder of +disgust, and, leaving his food untouched, put on coat and cap, and went +out shutting his door behind him. His spirits sank. It seemed to him +that, had it been midnight instead of this blank, even daylight, had his +unearthly-looking visitant acted in more unearthly fashion, the +circumstances would have had less weird force to impress his mind. + +We can, after all, only form conjectures regarding inexplicable +incidents from the successive impressions that have been made upon us. +This man was not at all given to love of romance or superstition, yet +the easy explanation that some man, for purpose of trick or crime, had +hidden in the box, did not seem to him to fit the circumstances. He +could not make himself believe that the eyes he had seen belonged to a +living man; on the other hand, he found it impossible to conceive of a +tea-drinking ghost. + +About a quarter of a mile away there was a long grove of birch trees, +the projecting spur of a second growth of forest that covered the +distant rising ground. Towards this Trenholme strode, for it was the +only covert near in which a human being could travel unseen. It was more +by the impulse of energy, however, than by reasonable hope that he came +there, for by the time he had reached the edge of the trees, it was +beginning to grow dark, even in the open plain. + +No one who has not seen birch trees in their undisturbed native haunts +can know how purely white, unmarred by stain or tear, their trunks can +be. Trenholme looked in among them. They grew thickly. White--white--it +seemed in the gathering gloom that each was whiter than the other; and +Trenholme, remembering that his only knowledge of the figure he sought +was that it was wrapped in white, recognised the uselessness, the +absurdity even, of hoping to find it here, of all places. + +Then he went back to the road and started for Turrifs Settlement. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The settlement called "Turrifs" was not a village; it was only a +locality, in which there were a good many houses within the radius of a +few square miles. + +When Alec Trenholme started off the third time to reproach the recreant +driver of the ox-cart, he had no intention of again dealing with him +directly. He bent his steps to the largest house in the neighbourhood, +the house of the family called Turrifs; whose present head, being the +second of his generation on the same farm, held a position of loosely +acknowledged pre-eminence. Turrif was a Frenchman, who had had one +Scotch forefather through whom his name had come. This, indeed, was the +case with many of his neighbours. + +Trenholme had had various negotiations with this Turrif and his +neighbours, but he had only once been to the house he was now seeking +and in the darkness, which had fallen completely during his three-mile +walk, he was a little puzzled to find it quickly. Its wooden and +weather-greyed walls glimmered but faintly in the night; it was only by +following the line of log fences through the flat treeless fields that +he found himself at last full in the feeble rays of the candle-light +that peeped from its largest window. Trenholme knocked. + +Turrif himself opened the door. He was a man of middle age, thick-set +but thin, with that curious grey shade on a healthy skin that so often +pertains to Frenchmen. For a moment his shrewd but mild countenance +peered into the darkness; then, holding wide the door and making welcome +motion with his hand, he bade Trenholme enter. + +Trenholme could not speak French, but he knew that Turrif could +understand enough English to comprehend his errand if he told it slowly +and distinctly. Slowly and distinctly, therefore, he recounted all that +had befallen him since Saul arrived at the station; but such telling of +such a story could not be without some embarrassment, caused by the +growing perception, on the part of both men, of its extraordinary +nature. + +"Eh--h!" said the Frenchman during the telling. It was a prolonged +syllable, denoting meditative astonishment, and it brought another +listener, for the wife came and stood by her husband, who interpreted +the story to her, and shortly a girl of thirteen also drew near and +stood listening to her father's interpretation. Trenholme began to +wonder whether the elder listeners were placing any confidence in his +word; but the doubt was probably in his mind only, for an honest man +does not estimate the subtle force of his own honesty. + +Turrif and his wife listened to all that was said, and looked at each +other, and looked at him, and asked him a good many questions. They were +neither of them hasty, but, as the woman's manner was the more +vivacious, so her questions, when translated, showed a somewhat quicker +wit. When all was said, like wise people, they pronounced no sentence, +either upon Trenholme's actions or upon those of the creature that had +inhabited the coffin; but they remarked that if the carter had committed +no evil he would not have run away. They said that they had some +knowledge of this man, whom they called "Monsieur Saul," and that he was +a fellow of little worth. They agreed that Turrif should go with +Trenholme, as requested, to bring the man to book. + +On crossing the threshold of the house Trenholme had come at once into a +large, long room, which composed the whole lower flat of the dwelling, +as appeared from the windows on both sides and from the fact that the +staircase went up from one end of it. It was a comfortable, well-warmed +room, containing evidences of all the various industries of the family, +from the harness that hung on the wall and the basket of carded wool by +the spinning-wheel, to the bucket of cow's mash that stood warming by +the stove at the foot of the baby's cradle. At the far end a large +table, that held the candle, had a meal spread upon it, and also some +open dog's-eared primers, at which small children were spelling audibly. + +When the conference, which had taken place near the door, was over, the +wife went back to her children and her lighted table, and Trenholme made +as if to open the door, supposing that Turrif would walk away with him. + +"Eh--_non,"_ said the older man, with a kindly smile. _"Pas encore,"_ +and taking Trenholme by the arm, he pushed him gently towards the table. +"I weel get out my 'orse," said he, in slow, broken English. "You have +had enough walking to-day, and I have had enough work. _Ŕ +présent"_--with a gesture toward the table. + +He made Trenholme sit down at the table. There was a very large pan of +thick sour milk on it, and a loaf of grey bread. Bits of this bread were +set round the edge of the table, near the children, who munched at them. + +Turrif gave Trenholme a bit of bread, cutting into the loaf as men only +do in whose lives bread is not scarce. With a large spoon he took a +quantity of the thick rich cream from the top of the milk and put a +saucer of it before the visitor. Trenholme ate it with his bread, and +found it not as sour as he expected, and on the whole very good. Turrif, +eating bread as he went, carried the harness out of the house. + +As there was no one left for him to talk to, Trenholme grew more +observant. He remarked the sweetness and sense in the face of the +house-mother as she bestowed their suppers upon the children. She was +still comparatively young, but there was no beauty of youth about her, +only the appearance of strength that is produced by toil and endurance +before these two have worn the strength away. But, in spite of this look +of strength, the face was not hard--no, nor sad; and there was a certain +latent poetry, too, about the gesture and look with which she gave food +to the little ones, as if the giving and receiving were a free thing, +and not the mere necessity of life. Her manner of giving them supper was +to push the large pan of curded milk close to the edge of the table, +where the little ones were clustered, and let them, four of them at +once, lap out of the side of it with their little spoons. At the same +time she pushed the creasy yellow cover of cream to the farther side, +with a watchful glance at Trenholme's saucer, evidently meaning that it +was kept for him. She and the elder boy and girl waited to sup till the +little ones had finished. + +Trenholme endeavoured to say that he should not want any more cream, but +she did not understand his words. He would have felt more concerned at +the partiality shown him if the youngsters had looked more in need of +cream; but they were, in truth, so round-faced and chubby, and so +evidently more pleased to stare at him with their big, black eyes than +grieved to lose the richest part of their milk, that he felt distress +would have been thrown way. All four little ones wore round knitted +caps, and their little heads, at uneven heights, their serious eyes +rolling upon him, and their greedy little mouths supping in the milk the +while, formed such an odd picture round the white disk of the milk-pan +that Trenholme could not help laughing. The greedy little feeders, +without dropping their spoons, looked to their mother to see whether +they ought to be frightened or not at such conduct on the stranger's +part, but seeing her smile, they concluded that they were safe. + +Upon Trenholme's making further overtures of friendship, one or two of +them began to smile: the smile was infectious, it spread to all four, +and they began to laugh, and laughed in baby fashion quite immoderately. +Their mother considered this a sign that they had had enough, and took +their spoons from them. As they scattered from the table Trenholme +perceived that, though their heads were covered, their feet were not. +Their whole costume consisted of a short blue cotton nightgown and the +little knitted cap. + +When Turrif came in to say that the horse was ready, Trenholme made an +effort to present his thanks in saying good-bye to the mistress of the +house, but she did not seem to expect or take much notice of these +manners. As he went out of the door he looked back to see her bending +over the baby in the cradle, and he noticed for the first time that +above the cradle there was a little shrine fastened to the wall. It was +decked with a crucifix and paper flowers; above was a coloured picture +of the Virgin. + +Trenholme, whose nerves were perhaps more susceptible than usual by +reason of the creature set at large by the opening of the coffin, +wondered that Turrif should leave his wife and children alone so +willingly, without any effort to bar the house and without objection on +their part. He knew there was no other house within half a mile, and the +darkness that lay on the flat land appeared to give room for a thousand +dangers. + +He expressed this surprise to Turrif, who replied placidly that the good +saints took care of women and children--a reply which probably did not +go to prove the man's piety so much as the habitual peace of the +neighbourhood. + +The vehicle to which Turrif had harnessed his pony was a small hay +cart--that is to say, a cart consisting of a platform on two wheels, and +a slight paling along each side intended to give some support to its +contents. It was much more lightly made than Saul's ox-cart. The wheels +went over the frozen ruts at a good pace, and the inmates were badly +jolted. Trenholme would rather have walked, but he had already observed +that the Canadian rustic never walked if he could possibly avoid it, and +he supposed there must be some reason for this in the nature of the +country. The jolting made talking disagreeable; indeed, when he +attempted conversation he found his words reminded him forcibly of times +when, in the nursery of his childhood, he had noticed the cries of baby +companions gradually grow less by reason of the rapid vibrations of the +nurse's knee. He kept silence therefore, and wondered whether Turrif or +the pony was guiding, so carelessly did they go forth into the darkness, +turning corners and avoiding ghostly fences with slovenly ease. + +It soon appeared that Turrif knew no more than Trenholme where to find +Saul; his only method of seeking was to inquire at each house. It was +not, however, necessary to go into each house; the cart was only brought +sufficiently near upon the road for a lusty shout to reach the family +inside. The first house Trenholme hardly saw in the darkness; at one or +two others he had a good view of the interior through an open door or +window. From each door men and boys, sometimes women and children, +sallied forth eagerly into the cold night to see what was wanted, and to +each inquiry the phlegmatic Turrif repeated Trenholme's tale. Trenholme +would have given a good deal to be able fully to understand what was +said. There was much conversation. From each house one or two men joined +them, and in one case, from a squalid-looking doorway, a loud-speaking +and wilful girl came out and insisted on getting into the cart. She +talked to the men and shrieked loudly when any object, such as a barn or +a tree, loomed dimly at the side of the road. Two of the men brought a +lantern and walked behind. When they came to the house whose roof was +found to cover Saul, a party of eight entered to hear and pronounce upon +his explanation. Certainly, if Trenholme had had the management of the +business, he would not have proceeded in this fashion, but he had no +choice. + +The carter had been drinking whisky--not much as yet, but enough to give +him a greater command of words than he ordinarily possessed. When he saw +Trenholme among the band who were inquiring for him, he manifested +distinct signs of terror, but not at his visitors; his ghastly glances +were at door and window, and he drew nearer to the company for +protection. It was plainly what they had to tell, not what they had to +demand, that excited him to trembling; the assembled neighbourhood +seemed to strike him in the light of a safeguard. When, however, he +found the incomers were inclined to accuse him of trick or knavery, he +spoke out bravely enough. + +Old Cameron had died--they knew old Cameron? + +Yes, the men assented to this knowledge. + +And after he had been dead two days and one night, Mr. Bates--they knew +Mr. Bates?-- + +Assent again. + +--Had put him in the coffin with his own hands and nailed down the lid. +He was quite dead--perfectly dead. + +On hearing this the bold girl who had come with them shrieked again, and +two of the younger men took her aside, and, holding her head over a +bucket in the corner poured water on it, a process which silenced her. + +"And," said Turrif, quietly speaking in French, "what then?" + +"What then?" said Saul; "Then to-day I brought him in the cart." + +"And buried him on the road, because he was heavy and useless, and let +some friend of yours play with the box?" continued Turrif, with an +insinuating smile. + +Saul swore loudly that this was not the case, at which the men shrugged +their shoulders and looked at Trenholme. + +To him the scene and the circumstances were very curious. The house into +which they had come was much smaller than Turrif's. The room was a +dismal one, with no sign of woman or child about it. Its atmosphere was +thick with the smoke of tobacco and the fumes of hot whisky, in which +Saul and his host had been indulging. A soft, homemade candle, guttering +on the table, shed a yellow smoky light upon the faces of the bearded +men who stood around it. Saul, perhaps from an awkward feeling of +trembling in his long legs, had resumed his seat, his little eyes more +beady, his little round cheeks more ruddy, than ever, his whiskers now +entirely disregarded in the importance of his self-vindication. + +Too proud for asseveration, Trenholme had not much more to say. He +stated briefly that he could not be responsible for the contents of a +box when the contents had run away, nor for any harm that the runaway +might do to the neighbourhood, adding that the man who had consigned the +box to his care must now come and take it away. + +He spoke with a fine edge of authority in his voice, as a man speaks who +feels himself superior to his circumstances and companions. He did not +look at the men as he spoke, for he was not yet sure whether they gave +him the credence for which he would not sue, and he did not care to see +if they derided him. + +"I sink," said Turriff, speaking slowly in English now,--"I sink we +cannot make that mee-rácle be done." + +"What miracle?" asked Trenholme. + +Those of the men who understood any English laughed. + +"Se mirácle to make dis genteel-man, M. Saul, fetch se box." + +Trenholme then saw that Saul's shudderings had come, upon him again at +the mere suggestion. + +"What am I to do, then?" he asked. + +At this the men had a good deal of talk, and Turrif interpreted the +decision. + +"We sink it is for M. Bates to say what shall be done wit se box. We +sink we take se liberté to say to sis man--'Stay here till some one go +to-morrow and fetch M. Bates.'" + +This struck Trenholme as just, and any objection he felt to spending the +night under the same roof with the mysterious coffin did not seem worth +remark. + +As for Saul, he professed himself satisfied with the arrangement. He was +only too glad to have some one brought who would share his +responsibility and attest, in part at least, his tale. + +"Well," said Trenholme, "I'll go then." + +He felt for the key of the station in his pocket, and would have thanked +the men and bid them "good evening," had they not, rather clamorously, +deprecated his intention. Living, as they did, far from all organised +justice, there was in them a rough sense of responsibility for each +other which is not found in townsmen. + +Trenholme shortly made out that they had decided that two of them should +help him to guard the station that night, and were only disputing as to +who should be allotted for the purpose. + +"It isn't at all necessary," said Trenholme. + +"We sink," said Turrif, with his deliberate smile, "it will be best; for +if you have not been wandering in your mind, some one else's body has +been wandering." + +Trenholme went back to his station in the not unpleasant company of two +sturdy farmers, one young and vivacious, the other old and slow. They +found the place just as he had left it. The coffin was empty, save for +the sweet-scented cushion of roughly covered pine tassels on which the +body of the gaunt old Cameron had been laid to rest. + +The three men sat by the stove in the other room. The smoke from their +pipes dimmed the light of the lamp. The quiet sounds of their talk and +movements never entirely took from them the consciousness of the large +dark silence that lay without. No footfall broke it. When they heard the +distant rush of the night train, they all three went out to see its +great yellow eye come nearer and nearer. + +Trenholme had one or two packages to put in the van. He and his +companions exchanged greetings with the men of the train. + +Just as he was handing in his last package, a gentlemanly voice accosted +him. + +"Station-master!" said a grey-haired, military-looking traveller, +"Station-master! Is there any way of getting milk here?" + +A lady stood behind the gentleman. They were both on the platform at the +front of a passenger car. + +"It's for a child, you know," explained the gentleman. + +Trenholme remembered his untouched tea, and confessed to the possession +of a little milk. + +"Oh, hasten, hasten!" cried the lady, "for the guard says the train will +move on in a moment." + +As Trenholme knew that the little French conductor thus grandly quoted +did not know when the train would start, and as in his experience the +train, whatever else it did, never hastened, he did not move with the +sudden agility that was desired. Before he turned he heard a +loud-whispered aside from the lady: "Tell him we'll pay him +double--treble, for it; I have heard they are avaricious." + +When Trenholme had started the train he jumped upon it with the milk. He +found himself in a long car. The double seats on either side were filled +with sleepy people. There was a passage down the middle, and the lamps +above shone dimly through dirty glasses. Trenholme could not immediately +see any one like the man who had spoken to him outside, but he did spy +out a baby, and, jug in hand, he went and stood a moment near it. + +The lady who held the baby sat upright, with her head leaning against +the side of the car. She was dozing, and the baby was also asleep. It +was a rosy, healthy child, about a year old. The lady's handsome face +suggested she was about seven-and-twenty. Among all the shawl-wrapped +heaps of restless humanity around them, this pair looked very lovely +together. The dusty lamplight fell upon them. They seemed to Trenholme +like a beautiful picture of mother and child, such as one sometimes +comes upon among the evil surroundings of old frames and hideous prints. + +Said Trenholme aloud: "I don't know who asked me for the milk." + +The lady stirred and looked at him indifferently. She seemed very +beautiful. Men see with different eyes in these matters, but in +Trenholme's eyes this lady was faultless, and her face and air touched +some answering mood of reverence in his heart. It rarely happens, +however, that we can linger gazing at the faces which possess for us the +most beauty. The train was getting up speed, and Trenholme, just then +catching sight of the couple who had asked for the milk, had no choice +but to pass down the car and pour it into the jar they held. + +The gentleman put his hand in his pocket. "Oh no," said Trenholme, and +went out. But the more lively lady reopened the door behind him, and +threw a coin on the ground as he was descending. + +By the sound it had made Trenholme found it, and saw by the light of the +passing car that it was an English shilling. When the train was gone he +stood a minute where it had carried him, some hundred feet from the +station, and watched it going on into the darkness. + +Afterwards, when his companions had composed themselves to sleep, and he +lay sleepless, listening to all that could be heard in the silent night, +curiously enough it was not upon the exciting circumstances of the early +evening that he mused chiefly, but upon the people he had seen in the +night train. + +A seemingly little thing has sometimes the power to change those +currents that set one way and another within a man, making him satisfied +or dissatisfied with this or that. By chance, as it seems, a song is +sung, a touch is given, a sight revealed, and man, like a harp hung to +the winds, is played upon, and the music is not that which he devises. +So it was that Trenholme's encounter in the dusty car with the beautiful +woman who had looked upon him so indifferently had struck a chord which +was like a plaintive sigh for some better purpose in life than he was +beating out of this rough existence. It was not a desire for greater +pleasure that her beauty had aroused in him, but a desire for nobler +action--such was the power of her face. + +The night passed on; no footfall broke the silence. The passing train +was the only episode of his vigil. + +In the morning when Trenholme looked out, the land was covered deep in +snow. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +When the night train left Turrifs Station it thundered on into the +darkness slowly enough, but, what with bumping over its rough rails and +rattling its big cars, it seemed anxious to deceive its passengers into +the idea that it was going at great speed. A good number of its cars +were long vans for the carriage of freight; behind these came two for +the carriage of passengers. These were both labelled "First Class." One +was devoted to a few men, who were smoking; the other was the one from +which Trenholme had descended. Its seats, upholstered in red velvet, +were dusty from the smoke and dirt of the way; its atmosphere, heated by +a stove at one end, was dry and oppressive. It would have been +impossible, looking at the motley company lounging in the lamplight, to +have told their relations one to another; but it was evident that an +uncertain number of young people, placed near the lady who held the +baby, were of the same party; they slept in twos and threes, leaning on +one another's shoulders and covered by the same wraps. It was to seats +left vacant near this group that the man and his wife who had procured +the milk returned. The man, who was past middle life, betook himself to +his seat wearily, and pulled his cap over his eyes without speaking. His +wife deposited the mug of milk in a basket, speaking in low but brisk +tones to the lady who held the baby. + +"There, Sophia; I've had to pay a shilling for a cupful, but I've got +some milk." + +"I should have thought you would have been surer to get good milk at a +larger station, mamma." She did not turn as she spoke, perhaps for fear +of waking the sleeping baby. + +The other, who was the infant's mother, was rapidly tying a shawl round +her head and shoulders. She was a little stout woman, who in middle age +had retained her brightness of eye and complexion. Her features were +regular, and her little nose had enough suggestion of the eagle's beak +in its form to preserve her countenance from insignificance. + +"Oh, my dear," she returned, "as to the milk--the young man looked quite +clean, I assure you; and then such a large country as the cows have to +roam in!" + +Having delivered herself of this energetic whisper, she subsided below +the level of the seat back, leaving Sophia to sit and wonder in a drowsy +muse whether the mother supposed that the value of a cow's milk would be +increased if, like Io, she could prance across a continent. + +Sophia Rexford sat upright, with the large baby in her arms and a bigger +child leaning on her shoulder. Both children were more or less restless; +but their sister was not restless, she sat quite still. The attitude of +her tall figure had the composure and strength in it which do not belong +to first youth. Hers was a fine face; it might even be called beautiful; +but no one now would call it pretty--the skin was too colourless, the +expression too earnest. + +Her eyes took on the look that tells of inward, rather than outward, +vision. Her thoughts were such as she would not have told to any one, +but not because of evil in them. + +This was the lady to whom Robert Trenholme, the master of the college at +Chellaston, had written his letter; and she was thinking of that letter +now, and of him, pondering much that, by some phantasy of dreams, she +should have been suddenly reminded of him by the voice of the man who +had passed through the car with the milk. + +Her mind flitted lightly to the past; to a season she had once spent in +a fashionable part of London, and to her acquaintance with the young +curate, who was receiving some patronage from the family with whom she +was visiting. She had been a beauty then; every one danced to the tune +she piped, and this curate--a mere fledgeling--had danced also. That was +nothing. No, it was nothing that he had, for a time, followed lovesick +in her train--she never doubted that he had had that sickness, although +he had not spoken of it--all that had been notable in the acquaintance +was that she, who at that time had played with the higher aims and +impulses of life, had thought, in her youthful arrogance, that she +discerned in this man something higher and finer than she saw in other +men. She had been pleased to make something of a friend of him, +condescending to advise and encourage him, pronouncing upon his desire +to seek a wider field in a new country, and calling it good. Later, when +he was gone, and life for her had grown more quiet for lack of +circumstances to feed excitement, she had wondered sometimes if this man +had recovered as perfectly from that love-sickness as others had done. +That was all--absolutely all. Her life had lately come again into +indirect relations with him through circumstances over which neither he +nor she had had any control; and now, when she was about to see him, he +had taken upon him to write and pick up the thread of personal +friendship again and remind her of the past. + +In what mood had he written this reminder? Sophia Rexford would surely +not have been a woman of the world if she had not asked herself this +question. Did he think that on seeing her again he would care for her as +before? Did he imagine that intervening years, which had brought +misfortune to her family, would bring her more within his grasp? Or was +his intention in writing still less pleasing to her than this? Had he +written, speaking so guardedly of past friendship, with the desire to +ward off any hope she might cherish that he had remained unmarried for +her sake? Sophia's lips did not curl in scorn over this last suggestion, +because she was holding her little court of inquiry in a mental region +quite apart from her emotions. + +This woman's character was, however, revealed in this, that she passed +easily from her queries as to what the man in question did, or would be +likely to, think of her. A matter of real, possibly of paramount, +interest to her was to wonder whether his life had really expanded into +the flower of which she had thought the bud gave promise. She tried to +look back and estimate the truth of her youthful instinct, which had +told her he was a man above other men. And if that had been so, was he +less or more now than he had been then? Had he been a benefit to the new +country to which he had come? Had the move from the Old World to +this--the decision in which she had rashly aided with youthful +advice--been a good or a bad thing for him and for the people to whom he +had come? + +From this she fell a-thinking upon her own life as, in the light of +Trenholme's letter, the contrast of her present womanly self with the +bright, audacious girl of that past time was set strongly before her. It +is probably as rare for any one really to wish to be the self of any +former time--to wish to be younger--as it is really to wish to be any +one else. Sophia certainly did not dream of wishing to be younger. We +are seldom just to ourselves--either past or present: Sophia had a fine +scorn for what she remembered herself to have been; she had greater +respect for her present self, because there was less of outward show, +and more of reality. + +It might have been a quarter of an hour, it might have been more, since +the train had last started, but now it stopped rather suddenly. Sophia's +father murmured sleepily against the proximity of the stations. He was +reclining in the seat just behind her. + +Sophia looked out of her window. She saw no light. By-and-by some men +came up the side of the track with lanterns. She saw by the light they +held that they were officials of the train, and that the bank on which +they walked looked perfectly wild and untrodden. She turned her head +toward her father. + +"We are not at any station," she remarked. + +"Ay!" He got up with cumbrous haste, as a horse might rise. He, too, +looked out of the window, then round at his women and children, and clad +himself in an immense coat. + +"I'll just go out," he whispered, "and see how things are. If there's +anything wrong I'll let you know." + +He intended his whisper to be something akin to silence; he intended to +exercise the utmost consideration for those around him; but his long +remark was of the piercing quality that often appertains to whispers, +and, as he turned his back, two of the children woke, and a young girl +in the seat in front of Sophia sat up, her grey eyes dilated with alarm. + +"Sophia," she said, with a low sob, "oh, Sophia, is there something +_wrong_?" + +"Be quiet!" said Sophia, tartly. + +The snoring mother now shut her mouth with a snap. In a twinkling she +was up and lively. + +"Has your father got on his overcoat, Sophia? Is there danger?" She +darted from one side of the carriage to another, rubbing the moisture +off each window with a bit of her shawl and speaking with rapidity. + +Then she ran out of the car. Two of the children followed her. The +others, reassured by Sophia's stillness, huddled together at the +windows, shivering in the draught of cold air that came from the open +door. + +After some minutes Sophia's father came in again, leading his wife and +children with an old-world gallantry that was apparent even in these +unsatisfactory circumstances. He had a slow impressive way of speaking +that made even his unimportant words appear important. In the present +case, as soon as he began to speak most of the people in the car came +near to hear. + +Some obstruction, he said, had fallen across the line. It was not much; +the men would soon remove it. An Indian woman, who lived near, had +heroically lit a fire, and thus stopped the train in time. There was no +other train due upon the road for many hours. There was no danger. There +_might_ have been a bad accident, but they had been providentially +preserved. + +His utterance greatly impressed the bystanders, for he was an +important-looking gentleman; but long before he had finished speaking, +the bright-eyed little mother had set her children into their various +seats again, pulled their jackets close in front, rolled up their feet, +patted their caps down on their heads, and, in fact, by a series of +pokes and pulls, composed her family to sleep, or, at least, started +them as far on the way to sleep as a family can be sent by such a +method. + +Quiet settled on the car again. Soon the train went on. Sophia Rexford, +looking out, could dimly discern the black outline of wood and river. At +length the window grew thicker and opaque. There was no sound of rain or +hail, and yet something from without muffled the glass. Sophia slept +again. + +When the dawn of day at length stole upon them she found that snow had +been upon the glass and had melted. Snow lay thick on the ledges of the +windows outside. Yet in that part of the country in which they now were +there was none on the ground. They seemed to have run a race with a +snowstorm in the night, and to have gained it for the nonce. But the +sight struck her sadly. The winter, which she dreaded, was evidently on +their track. + +It was in the first grey hour of dawn that the train steamed into the +station, which was the junction for Quebec, and passengers bound for the +English settlements south of that city were obliged to change. + +For a few minutes before the train stopped the Rexford family had been +booted and spurred, so to speak, ready for the transfer. Each young +person was warmly buttoned up and tied into a warlike-looking muffler. +Each had several packages in charge. A youth came in from the +smoking-car and attached himself to them. When the train had come to a +standstill the little French conductor was energetic in helping them to +descend. + +The family was very large, and, moreover, it was lively; its members +were as hard to count as chickens of a brood. Sophia, holding the +youngest child and the tickets, endeavoured to explain their number to +the conductor. + +"There are three children that go free," she said. "Then two little boys +at half fare--that makes one ticket. Myself and three young ladies--make +five tickets; my brother and father and mother--eight." + +The sharp Frenchman looked dubious. "Three children free; two at half +fare," he repeated. He was trying to see them all as he spoke. + +Sophia repeated her count with terse severity. + +"There was not another young lady?" + +"Certainly not." + +And Sophia was not a woman to be trifled with, so he punched the tickets +and went back into his car. + +Wooden platforms, a station hotel built of wood, innumerable lines of +black rails on which freight trains stood idle, the whole place shut in +by a high wooden fence--this was the prospect which met the eyes of the +English travellers, and seen in the first struggling light of morning, +in the bitter cold of a black frost, it was not a cheerful one. The +Rexford family, however, were not considering the prospect; they were +intent only on finding the warm passenger-car of the train that was to +take them the rest of their journey, and which they had been assured +would be waiting here to receive them. + +This train, however, was not immediately to be seen, and, in the +meantime, the broad platform, which was dusted over with dry frost +crystals, was the scene of varied activities. + +From the baggage-car of the train they had left, a great number of boxes +and bags, labelled "Rexford," were being thrown down in a violent +manner, which greatly distressed some of the girls and their father. + +"Not that way. That is not the way. Don't you know that is not the way +boxes should be handled?" shouted Captain Rexford sternly, and then, +seeing that no one paid the slightest attention to his words, he was +fain to turn away from the cause of his agitation. He took a brisk turn +down the empty end of the platform, and stood there as a man might who +felt that the many irritations of life were growing too much for his +self-control. + +The little boys found occupation because they observed that the white +condensed vapour which came from their mouths with each breath bore +great resemblance to the white steam a slowly moving engine was hissing +forth. They therefore strutted in imitation of the great machine, +emitting large puffs from their little warm mouths, and making the sound +which a groom makes when he plies the curry-comb. The big brother was +assisting in the unloading of a large carriage from an open van in the +rear of the train, and Mrs. Rexford, neat, quick-moving, and excitable, +after watching this operation for a few minutes and issuing several +orders as to how it was to be done, moved off in lively search of the +next train. She ran about, a few steps in each direction, looking at the +various railway lines, and then accosted a tall, thin man who was +standing still, doing nothing. + +"Is the train for the Eastern Townships here? We were told it would be +here waiting to receive us at daybreak. Is it here? Is it ready?" + +Seeing from the man's face, as she had already seen from the empty +tracks, that no such train was in readiness, she ran at one of the +puffing and strutting children whose muffler was loose, and tied it up +again. Then, struck by another thought, she returned to the impassive +man whom she had before addressed. + +"This is really the _actual_ dawn, I suppose?" she asked, with an air of +importance. "I have read that in some countries there is what is called +a 'false dawn' that comes before the real one, you know." + +Compelled now to speak, the man, who was a New Englander, took a small +stick from between his teeth and said: "As far as I know, marm, this +morning is genuine." + +"Oh really"--with abatement of interest in her tone--"I thought perhaps +there might be that sort of thing in Canada, you know--we certainly read +of Northern Lights. Very strange that our train isn't here!" + +The Yankee took the trouble to reply again, hardly moving a muscle of +his face. "Keep a good heart, marm; it may come along yet, a-ridin' on +these same Northern Lights." + +"Riding on--? I beg your pardon--on what, did you say?" she asked +eagerly. + +At this the grey-eyed girl who had been frightened in the night plucked +her by the sleeve and pulled her away. "Don't you see he's making fun of +you, mamma?" + +Besides the grey-eyed girl, who wore short frocks, there were two other +girls in the first bloom of young-womanhood. One of these, having +overheard the conversation, ran and told the other. + +"Just because we happened to read of such a thing in that book of +Asiatic travel! Isn't it absurd? And there's papa fuming at the other +end of the station." + +Both girls giggled. + +"I know _quite_ well that people will think us all crazy," urged the +first speaker. Then they laughed again, not unhappily. + +"There's not a doubt of it," gasped the other. + +These two girls were very much alike, but one wore a red cloak and the +other a blue one. In spite of the fact that they were somewhat bloused +and a little grimy, and their pretty little noses were now nipped red by +the icy morning, they looked attractive as they stood, pressing their +handkerchiefs to their mouths and bending with laughter. The extent of +their mirth was proportioned to their youth and excitement, not to the +circumstances which called it forth. + +The train they had left now moved off. Most of the other passengers who +had alighted with them had taken themselves away in various directions, +as travellers are apt to do, without any one else noticing exactly what +had become of them. + +Sophia, with the child in her arms, made her way to a mean waiting-room, +and thither the children followed her. The mother, having at last +ascertained the train would be ready in the course of time, soon came in +also, and the father and brother, hearing it would not be ready for at +least a quarter of an hour, went away to see the town. + +There was a stove burning hotly in the small waiting-room. The only +other furniture was a bench all round the wall. The family, that had +entered somewhat tumultuously, almost filled it. There was only one +other traveller there, a big girl with a shawl over her head and a +bundle under her arm. When Sophia had come into the room alone with the +baby, she had asked the girl one or two questions, and been answered +civilly enough; but when the rest of the family followed, the girl +relapsed into silence, and, after regarding them for a little while, she +edged her way out of the room. + +Mrs. Rexford, who in the excitement of change and bustle was always +subject to being struck with ideas which would not have occurred to her +mind at other times, suddenly remembered now that they were dependent +upon the resources of the new country for domestic service, and that +she had heard that no chance of securing a good servant must be lost, as +they were very rare. Stating her thought hastily to Sophia, and darting +to the narrow door without waiting for a reply, she stretched out her +head with an ebullition of registry-office questions. + +"My good girl!" she cried, "my good girl!" + +The girl came back nearer the door and stood still. + +"Do you happen to know of a girl about your age who can do kitchen +work?" + +"I don't know any one here. I'm travelling." + +"But perhaps you would do for me yourself"--this half aside--"Can you +make a fire, keep pots clean, and scour floors?" + +"Yes." She did not express any interest in her assent. + +"Where are you going? Would you not like to come with me and enter my +service? I happen to be in need of just such a girl as you." + +No answer. + +"She doesn't understand, mamma," whispered the grey-eyed girl in a short +frock, who, having wedged herself beside her mother in the narrow +doorway, was the only one who could see or hear the colloquy. "Speak +slower to the poor thing." + +"Looks very stupid," commented Mrs. Rexford, hastily pulling in her head +and speaking within the room. "But still, one must not lose a chance." +Then with head again outside, she continued, "Do you understand me, my +good girl? What is your name?" + +"Eliza White." + +"That is a very good name"--encouragingly. "Where do you live?" + +"I used to live a good bit over there, in the French country." She +pointed with her arm in a certain direction, but as the points of the +compass had no existence for Mrs. Rexford's newly immigrated +intelligence, and as all parts of Canada, near and remote, seemed very +much in the same place in her nebulous vision of geography, the little +information the girl had given was of no interest to her and she took +little note of it. + +"Did you come from Quebec just now?" + +"Yes," replied the girl, after a moment's pause. + +Then, in answer to further questions, she told a succinct tale. She said +that her father had a farm; that he had died the week before; that she +had no relatives in the place; that, having seen her father buried, she +thought it best to come to an English-speaking locality, and wait there +until she had time to write to her father's brother in Scotland. + +"Sad, sad story! Lonely fate! Brave girl!" said Mrs. Rexford, shaking +her head for a minute inside the waiting-room and rapidly repeating the +tale. + +"Yes, if it's true," said Sophia. But Mrs. Rexford did not hear, as she +had already turned her head out of the door again, and was commending +Eliza White for the course she had taken. + +The grey-eyed Winifred, however, still turned inside to combat +reproachfully Sophia's suspicions. "You would not doubt her word, +Sophia, if you saw how cold and tired she looked." + +Mrs. Rexford seemed to argue concerning the stranger's truthfulness in +very much the same way, for she was saying:-- + +"And now, Eliza, will you be my servant? If you will come with me to +Chellaston I will pay your fare, and I will take care of you until you +hear from your uncle." + +"I do not want to be a servant." The reply was stolidly given. + +"What! do you wish to be idle?" + +"I will work in your house, if you like; but I can pay my own fare in +the cars, and I won't be a servant." + +There was so much sullen determination in her manner that Mrs. Rexford +did not attempt to argue the point. + +"Take her, mamma," whispered Winifred. "How ill she seems! And she must +be awfully lonely in this great country all alone." + +Mrs. Rexford, having turned into the room, was rapidly commenting to +Sophia. "Says she will come, but won't be called a servant, and can pay +her own fare. Very peculiar--but we read, you know, in that New England +book, that that was just the independent way they felt about it. They +can only induce _slaves_ to be servants _there_, I believe." She gave +this cursory view of the condition of affairs in the neighbouring States +in an abstracted voice, and summed up her remarks by speaking out her +decision in a more lively tone. "Well, we must have some one to help +with the work. This girl looks strong, and her spirit in the matter +signifies less." Then, turning to the girl without the door: "I think +you will suit me, Eliza. You can stay with us, at any rate, till you +hear from your uncle. You look strong and clean, and I'm _sure_ you'll +do your best to please me"--this with warning emphasis. "Come in now to +the warmth beside us. We can make room in here." + +The place was so small and the family so large that the last assurance +was not wholly unnecessary. Mrs. Rexford brought Eliza in and set her +near the stove. The girls and children gathered round her somewhat +curiously, but she sat erect without seeming to notice them much, an +expression of impassive, almost hardened, trouble on her pale face. She +was a very tall, strong girl, and when she dropped the shawl back a +little from her head they saw that she had red hair. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +The village of Chellaston was, in itself, insignificant. Its chief +income was derived from summer visitors; its largest building was an +hotel, greatly frequented in summer; and its best houses were owned by +townspeople, who used them only at that season. That which gave +Chellaston a position and name above other places of the same size in +the country was an institution called "The New College," in which boys +up to the age of eighteen were given a higher education than could be +obtained at ordinary schools. The college was a square brick building, +not handsome, but commodious; and in the same enclosure with it were the +head-master's house, and a boarding-house in which the assistant-masters +lived with the pupils. With that love of grand terms which a new country +is apt to evince, the head-master was called "The Principal," and his +assistants "Professors." The New College was understood to have the +future of a university, but its present function was merely that of a +public school. + +Chellaston was prettily situated by a well-wooded hill and a fair +flowing river. The college, with some fields that were cultivated for +its use, was a little apart from most of the houses, placed, both as to +physical and social position, between the commonplace village and the +farms of the undulating land around it; for, by a curious drift of +circumstances, the farms of this district were chiefly worked by English +gentlemen, whose families, in lieu of all other worldly advantage, held +the more stoutly by their family traditions. In doing so they were but +treasuring their only heirloom. And they did not expect to gain from the +near future any new source of pride; for it is not those who, as +convention terms it, are the best born who most easily gather again the +moss of prosperity when that which has been about them for generations +has once been removed. They were, indeed, a set of people who exhibited +more sweetness of nature than thrift. Elegance, even of the simplest +sort, was almost unknown in their homes, and fashion was a word that had +only its remotest echoes there; yet they prided themselves upon adhering +strictly to rules of behaviour which in their mother-country had already +fallen into the grave of outgrown ideas. Their little society was, +indeed, a curious thing, in which the mincing propriety of the Old World +had wed itself right loyally to the stern necessity of the New. How +stern such necessity might be, the Rexford family, who came rolling into +this state of things in their own family carriage, had yet to learn. + +It was to the Principalship of the New College that Robert Trenholme, by +virtue of scholastic honours from Oxford, had attained. Although a young +man for the post, it was admitted by all that he filled it admirably. +The school had increased considerably in the three years of his +management. And if Trenholme adapted himself to the place, the place was +also adapted to him, for by it he held an assured standing in the +country; he could, as the saying is, mix with the best; and he valued +his position. Why should he not value it? He had won it honourably, and +he cherished it merely as the greatest of his earthly goods, which he +believed he held in due subordination to more heavenly benefits. Those +lives are no doubt the most peaceful in which self-interest and duty +coalesce, and Trenholme's life at this period was like a fine cord, +composed of these two strands twisted together with exquisite equality. +His devotion to duty was such as is frequently seen when a man of +sanguine, energetic temperament throws the force of his being into +battle for the right. He had added to his school duties voluntary +service in the small English church of Chellaston, partly because the +congregation found it hard to support a clergyman; partly because he +preferred keeping his schoolboys under the influence of his own sermons, +which were certainly superior to those of such clergymen as were likely +to come there; and partly, if not chiefly, because the activity of his +nature made such serving a delight to him. The small church, like the +school, had been greatly improved since it had come under his hand, and +the disinterestedness of his unpaid ministrations was greatly lauded. He +was a very busy, and a successful, man, much esteemed by all who knew +him. The New College was expected to become a university; Robert +Trenholme hoped for this and expected to remain at its head, but this +hope of his was by the way; he did not think of it often, for he loved +work for its own sake. Even the value he set on his present success was +not often, more actively in his mind than the value he set on the fresh +air he breathed. It was very occasionally that the pride of him came to +the surface, and then chiefly when animated by the memory of the time +when he had been at a disadvantage in worldly things. Such memories came +to him when he prepared to go to the railway station to meet the +Rexfords. He concealed it perfectly, but it gave him certain swellings +of heart to think that Miss Rexford would now gradually see all to which +he had attained. + +When Captain Rexford had decided upon buying a farm at Chellaston, he +had had some correspondence with Principal Trenholme on the subject, +having been put into communication with him by the widow of the relative +at whose house Sophia and Trenholme had first met. This was the whole +extent of the acquaintance. Of Sophia's step-mother and her numerous +children Robert Trenholme knew nothing, save that a second family +existed. Nor did Captain Rexford imagine that his eldest daughter had +any distinct remembrance of a man whom she had so casually known. +Fathers are apt to assume that they know the precise extent of their +daughters' acquaintanceships, for the same reason that most people +assume that what they never heard of does not exist. Yet when Trenholme +actually repaired to the station at the hour at which Captain Rexford +had announced his arrival, it was a fact that many of his leisure +thoughts for a month back had been pointing forward, like so many +guide-posts, to the meeting that was there to take place, and it was +also true that the Rexford family--older and younger--were prepared to +hail him as a friend, simply because their knowledge of him, though +slight, was so much greater than of any other being in the place to +which they were come--and everything in this world goes by comparison. + +Now the main feature of the arrival of the Rexford family in Chellaston +was that they brought their own carriage with them. It was an old, heavy +carriage, for it had come into Captain Rexford's possession in the first +place by inheritance, and it was now a great many years since he had +possessed horses to draw it. From its long and ignominious retreat in an +outhouse it had lately emerged to be varnished and furbished anew, in +order to make the handsomer appearance in the new country. It had been +one of the considerations which had reconciled Mrs. Rexford to +emigration, that on a farm this carriage could be used with little extra +expense. + +Principal Trenholme had come to the station, which was a little way from +the village, in a smart gig of his own. According to Captain Rexford's +instructions, he had sent to the station a pair of horses, to be +harnessed to the aforesaid carriage, which had been carefully brought on +the same train with its owners. He had also sent of his own accord a +comfortable waggon behind the horses, and he straightway urged that the +family should repair in this at once to their new home, and leave the +carriage to be set upon its wheels at leisure. As he gave this advice he +eyed the wheelless coach with a curiosity and disfavour which was almost +apparent through his studious politeness. + +His arguments, however, and Captain Rexford's, who agreed with him, were +of no avail. Mrs. Rexford, partly from sentiment, partly from a certain +pathetic vanity, had set her heart on driving to the new home in the old +carriage. Captain Rexford's eldest son had helped to get the vehicle off +the train, and was now working steadily with one of the station hands to +get it upon its wheels. It was assuredly such a carriage as that bit of +Canadian road had never seen before. The station loiterers, sometimes +helping in its arrangement, sometimes merely looking on, gazed at it +with unwavering attention. Robert Trenholme gazed at it also, and at +last felt obliged to give some more distinct warning of difficulties he +foresaw. + +"We have native horses," he said, with a good-humoured smile that leaped +out of his eyes before it parted his lips; "we have horses, and we have +ponies, and I am afraid that a pair of the one would be as serviceable +in the long run as a pair of the other in drawing it on these roads. +Are you getting out carriage-horses from England, Captain Rexford?" + +The gentleman addressed continued to set the cushions in their places, +but in a minute he went back into the station, where by a stove he found +his wife and Sophia warming themselves, the smallest children, and a pot +of carriage oil. + +"You know, my dears, I never felt quite clear in my own mind that it was +wise of us to bring the carriage." He held his hands to the warmth as he +spoke. "Mr. Trenholme, I find, seems to think it heavy for these roads." + +His wife heard him quite cheerfully. "In weather like this nothing could +be more desirable," said she, "than to have one's own comfortably +cushioned carriage; and besides, I have always told you we owe it to our +children to show the people here that, whatever misfortunes we have had, +we _have_ been people of consequence." She added after a moment in +conclusion: "Harold has brought the best grease for the wheels." + +She had her way therefore, and in course of time the ladies, and as many +of the children as could be crowded into the carriage, thus commenced +the last stage of their journey. The others were driven on by Trenholme. +As for the little boys, "a good run behind," their mother said, was just +what they needed to warm them up. + +They began running behind, but soon ran in front, which rather confused +Mrs. Rexford's ideas of order, but still the carriage lumbered on. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Captain Rexford had no fortune with his second wife; and their children +numbered seven daughters and three sons. It was natural that the +expenses of so large a family should have proved too much for a slender +income in an English town where a certain style of living had been +deemed a necessity. When, further, a mercantile disaster had swept away +the larger part of this income, the anxious parents had felt that there +was nothing left for their children but a choice between degrading +dependence on the bounty of others and emigration. From the new start in +life which the latter course would give they had large hopes. +Accordingly, they gathered together all that they had, and, with a loan +from a richer relative, purchased a house and farm in a locality where +they were told their children would not wholly lack educational +opportunities or society. This move of theirs was heroic, but whether +wise or unwise remained to be proved by the result of indefinite years. +The extent of their wealth was now this new property, an income which, +in proportion to their needs, was a mere pittance, and the debt to the +richer relative. + +The men who came to call on their new neighbour, and congratulate him on +his choice of a farm, did not know how small was the income nor how big +the debt, yet even they shook their heads dubiously as they thought of +their own difficulties, and remarked to each other that such a large +family was certainly a great responsibility. + +"I wonder," said one to another, "if Rexford had an idea in coming here +that he would marry his daughters easily. It's a natural thing, you +know, when one hears of the flower of British youth leaving England for +the Colonies, to imagine that, in a place like this, girls would be at a +premium. I did. When we came out I said to my wife that when our little +girls grew up they might pick and choose for themselves from among a +dozen suitors, but--well, this isn't just the locality for that, is it?" + +Both men laughed a little. They knew that, however difficult it might be +to find the true explanation of the fact, the fact remained that there +were no young men in Chellaston, that boys who grew up there went as +inevitably elsewhere to make their fortunes as they would have done from +an English country town. + +Among the ladies who came to see Mrs. Rexford and count her children, +the feeling concerning her was more nearly allied to kindly +commiseration than she would at all have liked had she known it. They +said that Captain Rexford might succeed if his wife and daughters--Each +would complete the conditional clause in her own way, but it was clear +to the minds of all that the success of the Rexford farm would depend to +a great extent upon the economy and good management practised in the +house. + +Now the Rexfords, man, woman, and child, had come with brave hearts, +intending to work and to economise; yet they found what was actually +required of them different from all that their fancy had pictured; and +their courage, not being obliged to face those dangers to which they had +adjusted it, and being forced to face much to which it was not adjusted, +suffered shock, and took a little time to rally into moderate animation. + +At the end of their weary journey they had found themselves in a large +wooden house, not new by any means, or smart in any of its appointments; +and, as convenience is very much a matter of custom, it appeared to them +inconvenient--a house in which room was set against room without vestige +of lobby or passage-way, and in which there were almost as many doors to +the outside as there were windows. They had bought it and its furniture +as a mere adjunct to a farm which they had chosen with more care, and +when they inspected it for the first time their hearts sank somewhat +within them. Captain Rexford, with impressive sadness, remarked to his +wife that there was a greater lack of varnish and upholstery and of +traces of the turning lathe than he could have supposed possible +in--"_furniture_." But his wife had bustled away before he had quite +finished his speech. Whatever she might feel, she at least expressed no +discouragement. Torture does not draw from a brave woman expressions of +dismay. + +That which gave both Mrs. Rexford and Sophia much perplexity in the +first day or two of the new life was that the girl Eliza seemed to them +to prove wholly incompetent. She moved in a dazed and weary fashion +which was quite inconsistent with the intelligence and capacity +occasionally displayed in her remarks; and had they in the first three +days been able to hear of another servant, Mrs. Rexford would have +abruptly cancelled her agreement with Eliza. At the end of that time, +however, when there came a day on which Mrs. Rexford and Sophia were +both too exhausted by unpacking and housework to take their ordinary +share of responsibility, Eliza suddenly seemed to awake and shake +herself into thought and action. She cleared the house of the litter of +packing-cases, set their contents in order, and showed her knowledge of +the mysteries of the kitchen in a manner which fed the family and sent +them to bed more comfortably than since their arrival. From that day +Eliza became more cheerful; and she not only did her own work, but often +aided others in theirs, and set the household right in all its various +efforts towards becoming a model Canadian home. If the ladies had not +had quite so much to learn, or if the three little children had not been +quite so helpless, Eliza's work would have appeared more effective. As +it was, the days passed on, and no tragedy occurred. + +It was a great relief to Captain and Mrs. Rexford in those days to turn +to Principal Trenholme for society and advice. He was their nearest +neighbour, and had easy opportunity for being as friendly and kind as he +evidently desired to be. Captain Rexford pronounced him a fine fellow +and a perfect gentleman. Captain Rexford had great natural courtesy of +disposition. + +"I suppose, Principal Trenholme," said he blandly, as he entertained his +visitor one day in the one family sitting-room, "I suppose that you are +related to the Trenholmes of----?" + +Trenholme was playing with one of the little ones who stood between his +knees. He did not instantly answer--indeed, Captain Rexford's manner was +so deliberate that it left room for pauses. Sophia, in cloak and fur +bonnet, was standing by the window, ready to take the children for +their airing. Trenholme found time to look up from his tiny playmate and +steal a glance at her handsome profile as she gazed, with thoughtful, +abstracted air, out upon the snow. "Not a very near connection, Captain +Rexford," was his reply; and it was given with that frank smile which +always leaped first to his eyes before it showed itself about his mouth. + +It would have been impossible for a much closer observer than Captain +Rexford to have told on which word of this small sentence the emphasis +had been given, or whether the smile meant that Principal Trenholme +could have proved his relationship had he chosen, or that he laughed at +the notion of there being any relationship at all. Captain Rexford +accordingly interpreted it just as suited his inclination, and mentioned +to another neighbour in the course of a week that his friend, the +Principal of the College, was a distant relative, by a younger branch +probably, of the Trenholmes of--, etc. etc., an item of news of which +the whole town took account sooner or later. + +To Mrs. Rexford Trenholme was chiefly useful as a person of whom she +could ask questions, and she wildly asked his advice on every possible +subject. On account of Captain Rexford's friendly approval, and his +value to Mrs. Rexford as a sort of guide to useful knowledge on the +subject of Canada in general and Chellaston in particular, Robert +Trenholme soon became intimate, in easy Canadian fashion, with the +newcomers; that is, with the heads of the household, with the romping +children and the pretty babies. The young girls were not sufficiently +forward in social arts to speak much to a visitor, and with Sophia he +did not feel at all on a sure footing. + +After this little conversation with Captain Rexford about his relatives, +and when Sophia had received the other children from the hands of Eliza +and repaired with them to the house door, Trenholme also took leave, and +rose to accompany her as far as the gate. + +Sophia shivered a little when she stepped out upon the narrow wooden +gallery in front of the door. + +The Rexford house was not situated in the midst of the farm, but between +the main road that ran out of the village and the river that here lay +for some distance parallel with the road. On the next lot of land stood +an empty house in the centre of a large deserted garden; and on the +other side of the road, about a quarter of a mile off, stood the college +buildings, which were plainly to be seen over flat fields and low log +fences. Beyond the college grounds were woods and pastures, and beyond +again rose Chellaston Mountain. This view was what Sophia and Trenholme +looked upon as they stood on the verandah; and all that they saw--field, +road, roof, tree, and hill--was covered with sparkling snow. It was a +week since the snow came, and Sophia still shivered a little whenever +she looked at it. + +"I am sorry to see you do not look upon this scene as if it rejoiced +your heart," he said. "When you know it better, you will, I hope, love +it as I do. It is a glorious climate, Miss Rexford; it is a glorious +country. The depressions and fears that grow up with one's life in the +Old World fall away from one in this wonderful air, with the stimulus of +a new world and a strong young nation all around. This snow is not cold; +it is warm. In this garden of yours it is just now acting as a blanket +for the germs of flowers that could not live through an English winter, +but will live here, and next summer will astonish you with their +richness. Nor is it cold for _you_; it is dry as dust; you can walk over +it in moccasins, and not be damp: and it has covered away all the decay +of autumn, conserving for you in the air such pure oxygen that it will +be like new life in your veins, causing you to laugh at the frost." + +"I have not your enthusiasm," she replied. Together they led the +unsteady feet of the little ones down the crisp snow path which Harold's +industrious shovel had made. + +Trenholme spoke briefly of the work he was trying to do in his school. +A clergyman has social licence to be serious which is not accorded to +other men. Wherefore he spoke as a clergyman might speak to a friend, +saying, in general terms, how steep is the ascent when, among mundane +affairs, human beings try to tread only where the angels of the higher +life may lead. + +Sophia assented, feeling a little sharp because it seemed to her that he +was taking up the thread of his acquaintance with her just where it had +formerly parted when she had thrown before him the gauntlet of such high +resolves and heavenly aims as young girls can easily talk about when +they know as yet nothing of their fulfilment. Whether or not Sophia knew +more of their fulfilment since then, she had, at least, learned a more +humble reverence for the very thought of such struggles, and she was +quite ready to believe that the man to whom she had once called to come +onward had by this time far outstripped her in the race. She was _ready_ +for this belief; but she had not accepted it, because, as yet confused +and excited by all that was new, she had formed no conclusion whatever +with regard to Trenholme. It had puzzled her somewhat from the outset to +find him such a model of elegance in the matter of clothes and manners. +She had, somehow, fancied that he would have a long beard and wear an +old coat. Instead of that, his usual manner of accosting her reminded +her more of those fashion plates in which one sees tailors' blocks +taking off their hats to one another. She did not think this was to his +disadvantage; she did not, as yet, think distinctly on the matter at +all. She certainly had no time to deliberate during this particular +conversation, for her companion, having only a few minutes to utilise, +was in a talkative humour. Having spoken of his own work, and made the +more general observations on the difficulties of what is commonly called +the "narrow road," in a quiet, honest way, he said something more +personal. + +"I have always felt, Miss Rexford, that it would be a pleasure to me to +see you again, because of the strength and courage which you managed to +infuse into my youthful aspirations; but now that I have seen you, will +you permit me to say that you have been quite unknowingly a help to me +again? A week ago I was half-disheartened of my life because of the +apparent sordidness of its daily duties, and now that I have seen you +giving your life to perform small and unassuming services for others, my +own duties have appeared more sacred. I can't tell you how much I admire +your unselfish devotion to these children. Don't think me rude because I +say it. I often think we are shabby to one another because, in the +strife, we do not frankly say when we are helped by seeing the brave +fight that some one else is making." + +They had stopped by the gate, for he was going one way and she and the +little ones another. Two strong young firs, with snow upon their +shelving branches, formed gateposts. The long broad road was white as +their footpath had been. + +Sophia answered: "There is no virtue in what I do, for, had I the +choice, I certainly should not be their nursemaid." + +"Do you know," he said, "I think when we see life in its reality, +instead of in its seeming, we shall find that the greatest deeds have +been done just because their doers believe that they could not do +otherwise." + +"I don't see that. If circumstances shut us up to doing certain things, +there is no virtue in doing them. There may be a little virtue in not +repining at our fate, but not much." + +He did not answer for a minute, but broke the curl of a little snowdrift +gently with his stick. Because he did not answer or say good-bye, Sophia +tarried for a moment and then looked up at him. + +"Miss Rexford," he replied, "the voice of circumstances says to us just +what we interpret it to say. It is in the _needs must_ of a high nature +that true nobility lies." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +It is upon the anniversary of feasts that a family, if despondent at +all, feels most despondent. So it fell out that at Christmas-time the +homesickness which hitherto had found its antidote in novelty and +surprise now attacked the Rexford household. The girls wept a good deal. +Sophia chid them for it sharply. Captain Rexford carried a solemn face. +The little boys were in worse pickles of mischief than was ordinary. +Even Mrs. Rexford was caught once or twice, in odd corners, hastily +wiping away furtive tears. + +This general despondency seemed to reach a climax one afternoon some +days before the end of the year. Without, the wind was blowing and snow +was descending; inside, the housework dragged monotonously. The only +lively people in the house were the little children. They were playing +quite riotously in an upper room, under the care of the Canadian girl, +Eliza; but their shouts only elicited sighs from Mrs. Rexford's elder +daughters, who were helping her to wash the dinner dishes in the +kitchen. + +These two elder daughters had, since childhood, always been dressed, so +far as convenient, the one in blue, the other in red, and were nicknamed +accordingly. Their mother thought it gave them individuality which they +otherwise lacked. The red frock and the blue were anything but gay just +now, for they were splashed and dusty, and the pretty faces above them +showed a decided disposition to pout and frown, even to shed tears. + +The kitchen was a long, low room. The unpainted wood of floor, walls, +and ceiling was darkened somewhat by time. Two square, four-paned +windows were as yet uncurtained, except that Nature, with the kindness +of a fairy helper, had supplied the lack of deft fingers and veiled the +glass with such devices of the frost as resembled miniature landscapes +of distant alp and nearer minaret. The large, square cooking-stove +smoked a little. Between the stove and the other door stood the table, +which held the dishes at which worked the neat, quick mother and her +rather untidy and idle daughters. + +"Really, Blue and Red!" The words were jerked out to conceal a sigh +which had risen involuntarily. "This is disgraceful." + +Her sharp brown eyes fell on the pile of dishes she had washed, which +the two girls, who were both drying them, failed to diminish as fast as +she increased it. + +"Our cloths are wet," said Blue, looking round the ceiling vaguely, as +if a dry dish-towel might be lying somewhere on a rafter. + +"I declare--" the mother began, tapping her foot. But what she was going +to declare was never known, for just then a knock at the outer door +diverted their attention. + +However commonplace may be the moment after a door is opened, the moment +before the opening is apt to be full of interest, for one can never know +but that some cause of delightful excitement is on the other side. + +It was Blue who opened the door. She did not at first open it very wide, +for she had learned by experience how much icy air could rush in, and +the other two, watching from behind, saw her answering some salutation +with dubious politeness. Then, after a moment, they saw her open it more +widely, and with a shy but hospitable inclination of the pretty +head--"Will you walk in?" said Blue. + +The young man who immediately entered had a very smart appearance to +eyes which had grown accustomed to the working garb of father and +brother. He was, moreover, handsome to a degree that is not ordinary. +The curly hair from which he had lifted his fur cap was black and glossy +as a blackbird's plumage, and the moustache, which did not cover the +full red lips, matched the hair, save that it seemed of finer and softer +material. His brown eyes had the glow of health and good spirits in +them. + +"Dear me!" Mrs. Rexford gave this involuntary exclamation of surprise; +then she turned inquiringly to the visitor. It was not in her nature to +regard him with an unfriendly eye; and as for Blue and Red, a spot of +warm colour had come into each of their sorrowful cheeks. They were too +well bred to look at each other or stare at the stranger, but there was +a flutter of pleased interest about the muscles of their rosy lips that +needed no expressive glances to interpret it. + +To be sure, the next few minutes' talk rather rubbed the bloom off their +pleasure, as one rubs beauty off a plum by handling; but the plum is +still sweet; and the pleasure was still there, being composed purely of +the excitement of meeting a young human creature apparently so akin to +themselves, but different with that mysterious difference which nature +sets between masculine and feminine attributes of mind and heart. + +The young man was an American. Any one experienced in American life +would have observed that the youth was a wanderer, his tricks of speech +and behaviour savouring, not of one locality, but of many. His accent +and manner showed it. He was very mannerly. He stated, without loss of +time, that, hearing that they had lately come to the country and had +some rooms in their house which they did not use, he had taken the +liberty of calling to see if they could let him a couple of rooms. He +was anxious, he said, to set up as a dentist, and had failed, so far, to +find a suitable place. + +The disappointment which Blue and Red experienced in finding that the +handsome youth was a dentist by profession was made up for by the +ecstasy of amusement it caused them to think of his desiring to set up +his business in their house. They would almost have forgiven Fate if she +had withdrawn her latest novelty as suddenly as she had sent him, +because his departure would have enabled them to give vent to the mirth +the suppression of which was, at that moment a pain almost as great as +their girlish natures could bear. + +Oh, no, Mrs. Rexford said, they had no rooms to let in the house. + +The stranger muttered something under his breath, which to an acute ear +might have sounded like "Oh, Jemima!" but he looked so very disconsolate +they could not help being sorry for him as he immediately replied, +soberly enough, "I _am_ sorry. I can't think of any place else to go, +ma'am. I'm _real_ tired, for I've been walking this long time in the +loose snow. Will you permit me to sit and rest for a time on the +doorstep right outside here till I can think what I better do next?" + +Blue fingered the back of a chair nervously. + +"Take a chair by the stove and rest yourself," said Mrs. Rexford. She +had a dignity about her in dealing with a visitor that was not often +apparent in other circumstances. She added, "We have too lately been +strangers ourselves to wish to turn any one weary from our door." Then, +in whispered aside, "Dry your dishes, girls." + +The dignity of bearing with which she spoke to him altered as she threw +her head backward to give this last command. + +"I thank you from my heart, madam." The young man bowed--that is, he +made an angle of himself for a moment. He moved the chair to which she +had motioned him, but did not sit down. "It is impossible for me to +sit," said he, fervently, "while a lady stands." + +The quaintness and novelty in his accent made them unable to test his +manners by any known standard. For all they knew, the most cultured +inhabitant of Boston, New York, or Washington might have behaved +precisely in this way. + +"Sit down, mamma," whispered Blue and Red, with praiseworthy +consideration for their mother's fatigue; "we'll finish the dishes." + +The girls perceived what, perhaps, the stranger had already perceived, +that if their mother consented to sit there was a chance of a more equal +conversation. And Mrs. Rexford sat down. Her mind had been +unconsciously relieved from the exercise of great dignity by the fact +that the stranger did not appear to notice her daughters, apparently +assuming that they were only children. + +"It is _real_ kind of you, ma'am, to be so kind to me. I don't think +_any_ lady has seemed so kind to me since I saw my own mother last." + +He looked pensively at the stove. + +"Your mother lives in the United States, I suppose." He shook his head +sadly. "In heaven now." + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Rexford; and then in a minute, "I am glad to see that +you feel her loss, I am sure." Here she got half off her chair to poke +the damper of the stove. "There is no loss so great as the loss of a +mother." + +"No, and I _always_ feel her loss most when I am tired and hungry; +because, when I was a little chap, you know, it was always when I was +tired and hungry that I went home and found her just sitting there, +quite natural, waiting for me." + +Blue and Red looked at the cupboard. They could not conceive how their +mother could refrain from an offer of tea. But, as it was, she gave the +young man a sharp glance and questioned him further. Where had he come +from? When had he arrived? + +He had come, he said, from the next station on the railway. He had been +looking there, and in many other places, for an opening for his work, +and for various reasons he had now decided that Chellaston was a more +eligible place than any. He had come in the early morning, and had +called on the doctor and on Principal Trenholme of the College. They had +both agreed that there was an opening for a young dentist who would do +his work well, charge low prices, and be content to live cheaply till +the Tillage grew richer. "It's just what _I_ want," he said. "I don't +seem to care much about making money if I can live honestly among +kind-hearted folks." + +"But surely," cried Mrs. Rexford, "neither Dr. Nash nor Principal +Trenholme suggested to you that Captain Rexford could give you rooms +for--" She was going to say "pulling out teeth," but she omitted that. + +The young man looked at her, evidently thinking of something else. +"Would you consider it a liberty, ma'am, if I--" He stopped diffidently, +for, seeing by his manner that he meditated immediate action of some +sort, she looked at him so fiercely that her glance interrupted him for +a moment, "if I were to stop the stove smoking?" He completed the +sentence with great humility, evidently puzzled to know how he had +excited her look of offence. + +She gave another excited poke at the damper herself, and, having got her +hand blacked, wiped it on her coarse grey apron. The diamond keeper +above the wedding-ring looked oddly out of place, but not more so than +the small, shapely hand that wore it. Seeing that she had done the stove +no good, she sat back in her chair with her hands crossed upon her now +dirty apron. + +"You can do nothing with it. Before we came to Canada no one told us +that the kitchen stoves invariably smoked. Had they done so I should +have chosen another country. However, as I say to my children, we must +make the best of it now. There's no use crying; there's no use +lamenting. It only harasses their father." + +The last words were said with a sharp glance of reproof at Blue and Red. +This mother never forgot the bringing up of her children in any one's +presence, but she readily forgot the presence of others in her remarks +to her children. + +"But you aren't making the best of it," said the visitor. With that he +got up, carefully lifted an iron piece in the back of the stove, turned +a key thus disclosed in the pipe, and so materially altered the mood of +the fire that in a few moments it stopped smoking and crackled nicely. + +"Did you ever, mamma!" cried the girls. A juggler's feat could not have +entertained them more. + +"_If_ for a time, first off, you had someone in the house who had lived +in this country, you'd get on first class," said the youth. + +"But you know, my dears," Mrs. Rexford spoke to her daughters, +forgetting the young man for a moment as before, "if I had not supposed +that Eliza understood the stove I should have inquired of Principal +Trenholme before now." + +"May I enquire where you got your help?" asked the American. "If she was +from this locality she certainly ought to have comprehended the stove." + +"She is a native of the country." + +"As I say," he went on, with some emphasis, "if she comes from +hereabouts, or further west, she ought to have understood this sort of a +stove; but, on the other hand, if she comes from the French district, +where they use only the common box stove, she would not understand this +kind." + +He seemed to be absorbed entirely in the stove, and in the benefit to +them of having a "help," as he called her, who understood it. + +"I think she comes from the lumbering country somewhere near the St. +Lawrence," said Mrs. Rexford, examining the key in the stove-pipe. She +could not have said a moment before where Eliza had come from, but this +phrase seemed to sum up neatly any remarks the girl had let fall about +her father's home. + +"_That_ accounts for it! Will you be kind enough to let me see her? I +could explain the mechanism of this stove to her in a few words; then +you, ma'am, need have no further trouble." + +She said she should be sorry to trouble him. If the key were all, she +could explain it. + +"Pardon me"--he bowed again--"it is _not_ all. There are several inner +dampers at the back here, which it is most important to keep free from +soot. If I might only explain it to the help, she'd know once for all. +I'd be real glad to do you that kindness." + +Mrs. Rexford had various things to say. Her speeches were usually +complex, composed of a great variety of short sentences. She asked her +daughters if they thought Eliza would object to coming down. She said +that Eliza was invaluable, but she did not always like to do as she was +asked. She thought the girl had a high temper. She had no wish to rouse +her temper; she had never seen anything of it; she didn't wish to. +Perhaps Eliza would like to come down. Then she asked her daughters +again if they thought Eliza would come pleasantly. Her remarks showed +the track of her will as it veered round from refusal to assent, as +bubbles in muddy water show the track of a diving insect. Finally, +because the young man had a strong will, and was quite decided as to +what he thought best, the girls were sent to fetch Eliza. + +Blue and Red ran out of the kitchen. When they got into the next room +they clasped one another and shook with silent laughter. As the door +between the rooms did not shut tightly, they adjured one another, by +dances and gestures, not to laugh loud. Blue danced round the table on +her toes as a means of stifling her laughter. Then they both ran to the +foot of the attic stair and gripped each other's arms very tight by way +of explaining that the situation was desperate, and that one or other +must control her voice sufficiently to call Eliza. + +The dining-room they were in was built and furnished in the same style +as the kitchen, save that here the wood was painted slate-colour and a +clean rag carpet covered the floor. The upper staircase, very steep and +dark, opened off it at the further end. All the light from a square, +small-paned window fell sideways upon the faces of the girls as they +stretched their heads towards the shadowed covert of the stairs. + +And they could not, _could_ not, speak, although they made gestures of +despair at each other and mauled each other's poor little arms sadly in +the endeavour to prove how hard they were trying to be sober. + +If any one wants to know precisely what they were laughing at, the only +way would be to become for a time one of two girls to whom all the world +is a matter of mutual mirth except when it is a matter of mutual tears. + +Although it seemed very long to them, it was, after all, only a minute +before Blue called in trembling tones, "Eliza!" + +"Eliza!" called Red. + +"Eliza! Eliza!" they both called, and though there was that in their +voices which made it perfectly apparent to the young man in the next +room, that they were laughing, so grand was their composure compared +with what it had been before, that they thought they had succeeded +admirably. + +But when a heavy foot was heard overhead and an answering voice, and it +was necessary to explain to Eliza wherefore she was called, an audible +laugh did escape, and then Blue and Red scampered upstairs and made the +communication there. + +It spoke much for the strength and calibre of character of the girl who +had so lately come into this family that a few minutes later, when the +three girls entered the kitchen, it was Eliza who walked first, with a +bearing equal to that of the other two and a dignity far greater. + +The young man, who had been fidgeting with the stove, looked up gravely +to see them enter, as if anxious to give his lesson; but had any one +looked closely it would have been seen that his acute gaze covered the +foremost figure with an intensity of observation that was hardly called +for if he took no other interest in her than as a transient pupil in the +matter of stove dampers. + +Perhaps any one might have looked with interest at her. She was +evidently young, but there was that in her face that put years, or at +least experience of years, between her and the pretty young things that +followed her. She was largely made, and, carrying a dimpled child of two +years upon her shoulder, she walked erect, as Southern women walk with +their burdens on their heads. It detracted little that her gown was of +the coarsest, and that her abundant red hair was tossed by the child's +restless hands. Eliza, as she entered the kitchen, was, if not a +beautiful girl, a girl on the eve of splendid womanhood; and the young +man, perceiving this almost faltered in his gaze, perhaps also in the +purpose he was pursuing. The words of the lesson he had ready seemed to +be forgotten, although his outward composure did not fail him. + +Eliza came near, the child upon her shoulder, looked at him and waited. + +"Eliza will hear what you have to say," said Mrs. Rexford. + +"Oh," said he, and then, whatever had been the cause of his momentary +pause, he turned it off with the plea that he had not supposed this to +be "the--young lady who--wished to learn about the stove." + +She received what he had to say without much appreciation, remarking +that, with the exception of the one key, she had known it before. + +As for him, he took up his cap to go. "Good-day, ma'am," he said; "I'm +obliged for your hospitality. Ladies, I beg leave now to retire." He +made his bow elaborately, first to Mrs. Rexford, then in the direction +of the girls. + +"My card, ma'am," he said, presenting Mrs. Rexford with the thing he +mentioned. + +Then he went out. + +On the card was printed, "Cyril P. Harkness, M.D.S." + +It was growing so dark that Mrs. Rexford had to go to the window to read +it. As she did so, the young man's shadow passed below the frosted pane +as he made his way between snow-heaps to the main road. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Next day Eliza went out with two of the little children. It was in the +early afternoon, and the sun shone brightly. Eliza had an errand down +the street, but every one knows that one does not progress very fast on +an errand with a toddler of two years at one's side. Eliza sauntered, +giving soothing answers to the little one's treble remarks, and only +occasionally exerting herself to keep the liveliness of her older charge +in check. Eliza liked the children and the sunshine and the road. Her +saunter was not an undignified one, nor did she neglect her duty in any +particular; but all the while there was an undercurrent of greater +activity in her mind, and the under-thoughts were occupied wholly and +entirely with herself and her own interests. + +After walking in the open road for a little while she came under the +great elm trees that held their leafless limbs in wide arch over the +village street. Here a footpath was shovelled in the snow, on either +side of the sleigh road. The sun was throwing down the graceful lines of +elm twigs on path and snowdrift. The snow lawns in front of the village +houses were pure and bright; little children played in them with tiny +sledge and snow spade, often under the watchful eye of a mother who sat +sewing behind the window pane. Now and then sleighs passed on the +central road with a cheerful jingle of bells. + +When Eliza, with the children, came to the centre of the village, it +became necessary to cross the street. She was bound for the largest +shop, that stood under part of the great hotel, and just here, opposite +the hotel, quite a number of sleighs were passing. Eliza picked up the +little one in her arms, and, taking the other child by the hand, essayed +to cross. But one reckons without one's host in counting surely on the +actions of children. Sturdy five-year-old baulked like a little horse, +and would not come. Eliza coaxed in vain. A long line of draught-horses, +dragging blue box-sleighs, came slowly up the road, each jingling a +heavy belt of bells. Five-year-old was frightened and would not come. +Eliza, without irritation, but at the same time without hesitation, took +it by the waist under her left arm and started again. She got half +across before the child seemed thoroughly to realise what was occurring, +and then, with head and arms in front and little gaitered legs behind, +it began to struggle so violently that the young woman, strong and +composed as she was, was brought for a minute to a standstill. + +Two men were watching her from the smoking-room of the hotel; the one an +elderly man, the owner of the house, had his attention arrested by the +calm force of character Eliza was displaying; the other, the young +American dentist, saw in the incident an excuse for interference, and he +rushed out now to the rescue, and gallantly carried the little naughty +one safely to the right side of the road. + +Eliza, recognising him, saw that he was looking at her with the pleasant +air of an old acquaintance--one, in fact, who knew her so well that any +formal greeting was unnecessary--not that she knew anything about +greetings, or what might or might not be expected, but she had an +indistinct sense that he was surprisingly friendly. + +"How's the stove going?" then he asked. He escorted her into the shop, +and superintended her little purchases in a good-natured, elder-brother +fashion. That done, he carried the elder child across the road again, +and Eliza went upon her way back down the long narrow pavement, with the +children at her side. + +She had shown nothing to the young man but composed appreciation of his +conduct. She was, however, conscious that he would not have been so kind +to any girl he happened to meet. "He admires me," thought Eliza to +herself. For all that, she was not satisfied with the encounter. She +felt that she had not played her part well; she had been too--had been +too--she did not know what. She thought if she had held her head higher +and shown herself less thankful--yes, there had been something amiss in +her behaviour that ought to be corrected. She could not define what she +had done, or ought to have done. How could she? An encounter of this +sort was as new to her as Mrs. Rexford's sewing machine, which she had +not yet been allowed to touch. Yet had she been shut up alone with the +machine, as she was now shut up to revise her own conduct within +herself, she would, by sheer force of determined intelligence, have +mastered its intricacy to a large degree without asking aid. And so with +this strong idea that she must learn how to act differently to this +young man; dim, indeed, as was her idea of what was lacking, or what was +to be gained, she strove with it in no fear of failure. + +She raised her head as she walked, and recast the interview just past in +another form more suited to her vague ideal, and again in another. She +had a sense of power within her, that sense which powerful natures have, +without in the least knowing in what direction the power may go forth, +or when they will be as powerless--as Samson shaven. She only felt the +power and its accompanying impulses; she supposed that in all ways, at +all times, it was hers to use. + +In a day or two Cyril Harkness met Eliza in the street again, and took +occasion to speak to her. This time she was much less obliging in her +manner. She threw a trifle of indifference into her air, looking in +front of her instead of at him, and made as if she wished to proceed. +Had this interview terminated as easily as the other, she would have +been able to look back upon it with complete satisfaction, as having +been carried on, on her part, according to her best knowledge of +befitting dignity; but, unfortunately for her, the young American was of +an outspoken disposition, and utterly untrammelled by those instincts of +conventionality which Eliza had, not by training, but by inheritance +from her law-abiding and custom-loving Scotch ancestry. + +"Say," said he, "are you mad at anything?" + +He gained at least this much, that she instantly stared at him. + +"If you aren't angry with me, why should you act crusty?" he urged. "You +aren't half as pleasant as t'other day." + +Eliza had not prepared herself for this free speaking, and her mind was +one that moved slowly. + +"I must take the children home," she said. "I'm not angry. I wasn't +pleasant that I know of." + +"You ought to be pleasant, any way; for I'm your best friend." + +Eliza was not witty, and she really could not think of an answer to this +astonishing assertion. Again she looked at him in simple surprise. + +"Well, yes, I am; although you don't know it. There isn't man round +Turriffs who has the least idea in the world where you are, for your +friends left you asleep when they came out with the old gentleman; when +I twigged how you got off I never told a word. Your father had been +seen" (here he winked) "near Dalhousie, wandering round! But they won't +find you unless I tell them, and I won't." + +"Won't find me unless you tell them," repeated Eliza slowly, the utmost +astonishment in her tone. "Who?" + +So vague and great was the wonder in her voice that he brought his eyes +to interrogate hers in sudden surprise. He saw only simple and strong +interest on the face of a simple and strong country girl. He had +expected a different response and a different expression. + +He put his tongue in the side of his cheek with the air of an +uncontrolled boy who has played a trump-card in vain. "Say," said he, +"didn't you, though?" + +"Didn't I?" said Eliza, and after a minute she said, "What?" + +The young man looked at her and smiled. His smile suggested a cunning +recognition that she was deceiving him by pretended dulness. + +At this Eliza looked excessively offended, and, with her head aloft, +began to push on the little sleigh with the baby in it. + +"Beg your pardon, ma'am," he said with sudden humility, but with a +certain lingering in his voice as if he could not relinquish his former +idea as suddenly as he wished to appear to do. "I see I've made a +mistake." + +Eliza hesitated in her onward movement. "But what was it you were going +to tell about me?" She spoke as if she had merely then remembered how +the conversation began. + +His recantation was now complete. "Nothing; oh, nothing. T'was just my +fun, miss." + +She surveyed him with earnest disapprobation. + +"You're not a very sensible young man, I'm afraid." + +She said this severely, and then, with great dignity, she went home. + +The young man lingered for a minute or two by the snow piles in front of +the hotel where they had been standing. Then he went into the hotel with +the uncertain step that betokens an undecided mind. When he got to the +window he looked out at her retreating figure--a white street with this +grey-clad healthy-looking girl walking down it, and the little red +box-sleigh with the baby in it which she pushed before her. He was quite +alone, and he gave vent to an emphatic half-whisper to himself. + +"If she did it, she's a magnificent deep one--a magnificent deep one." +There was profound admiration in his voice. + +That evening it was Mrs. Rexford who happened to wipe the tea-things +while Eliza washed them. + +"That young Mr. Harkness, the dentist--" began Eliza. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Rexford, alert. + +"Twice when I've been to the shop he's tried to make himself pleasant to +me and the children. I don't suppose he means any harm, but he's not a +sensible young man, I think." + +"You're a very sensible girl, Eliza," said Mrs. Rexford, with quick +vigour and without any sense of contrast. + +"It doesn't matter to me," went on Eliza, "for I don't answer him more +than I can help; but if he was to talk to the other girls when they go +out, I suppose they'd know not to notice him too much." + +Mrs. Rexford was one of those people who get accustomed to +circumstances in the time that it takes others to begin to wonder at +them. She often took for granted now that Eliza would consider her +daughters as, entirely on a level with herself, but less sensible. It +might not be wholly agreeable; neither, to Mrs. Rexford's mind, was it +agreeable to have the earth covered with snow for four months of the +year; but she had ceased wondering at that phenomenon a minute after she +had first read of it in a book of travels, and all the ever-fresh marvel +of its glossy brightness had, failed to bring fresh comment to her lips, +or to make her mind more familiar with the idea. In the same way, she +had accepted Eliza's position and character as a complex fact which, +like the winter, had advantages and disadvantages. Mrs. Rexford put up +with the latter, was thankful for the former, and wasted no more +thoughts on the matter. + +Eliza's last remark, however, was a subject for consideration, and with +Mrs. Rexford consideration was speech. + +"Dear me!" she said. "Well!" Then she took a few paces backward, +dish-cloth and dish still in hand, till she brought herself opposite the +next room door. The long kitchen was rather dark, as the plates were +being washed by the light of one candle, but in the next room Captain +Rexford and his family were gathered round a table upon which stood +lamps giving plenty of light. + +The mother addressed the family in general. "The dentist," said she, +"talks to Eliza when she goes to the shop. Blue and Red! if he should +speak to you, you must show the same sense Eliza did, and take not the +slightest notice." + +Sophia had asked what the dentist said to Eliza, and Mrs. Rexford had +reproved the girls for laughing, while the head of the family prepared +himself to answer in his kindly, leisurely, and important way. + +"To 'take not the slightest notice' is, perhaps, requiring more of such +young heads than might be possible. It would be difficult even for me to +take no notice whatever of a young man who accosted me in a place like +this. Severity, mild displeasure, or a determination not to speak, +might be shown." + +"If necessary," said Sophia; "but--" + +"If _necessary_," the father corrected himself, emphasizing his words +with a gentle tap of his fingers on the table. "I only mean if +necessary, of course." + +"People have such easy-going ways here," said Sophia. "Don't you think, +mamma, a little ordinary discretion on the girls' part would be enough? +Blue and Red have too much sense, I suppose, to treat him as an equal; +but they can be polite." + +Eliza, overhearing this, decided that she would never treat the young +American as an equal, although she had no idea why she should not. + +Let it not be supposed that Mrs. Rexford had idled over the dish she was +wiping. The conversation was, in fact, carried on between the family in +the bright sitting-room and an intermittent appearance of Mrs. Rexford +at the door of the shady kitchen. Twice she had disappeared towards +Eliza's table to get a fresh plate and come again, rubbing it. + +"Ah, girls," she now cried, "Sophia is always giving you credit for more +sense than I'm afraid you possess. No giggling, now, if this young +fellow should happen to say 'good morning.' Just 'good morning' in +return, and pass on--nothing more." + +The father's leisurely speech again broke in and hushed the little +babble. + +"Certainly, my dear daughters, under such circumstances as your mother +suggests; to look down modestly, and answer the young man's salutation +with a little primness, and not to hesitate in your walk--that, I should +think, is perhaps the course of conduct your mother means to indicate." + +"It strikes me," said Harold, the eldest son, "a good deal depends on +what he _did_ say to Eliza. Eliza!" + +This last was a shout, and the girl responded to it, so that there were +now two figures at the door, Mrs. Rexford drying the dish, and Eliza +standing quite quietly and at ease. + +"Yes, my son," responded Captain Rexford, "it _does_ depend a good deal +on what he _did_ say to Eliza. Now, Eliza" (this was the beginning of a +judicial inquiry), "I understand from Mrs. Rexford that----" + +"I've heard all that you have said," said Eliza. "I've been just here." + +"Ah! Then without any preface" (he gave a wave of his hand, as if +putting aside the preface), "I might just ask you, Eliza, what this +young--Harkness, I believe his name is--what----" + +"He's just too chatty, that's all that's the matter with him," said +Eliza. "He took off his hat and talked, and he'd have been talking yet +if I hadn't come away. There was no sense in what he said, good or bad." + +The children were at last allowed to go on with their lessons. + +When the dish-washing was finished and Mrs. Rexford came into the +sitting-room, Sophia took the lamp by the light of which she had been +doing the family darning into the kitchen, and she and Harold +established themselves there. Harold, a quiet fellow about nineteen, was +more like his half-sister than any other member of the family, and there +was no need that either should explain to the other why they were glad +to leave the nervous briskness of the more occupied room. It was their +habit to spend their evenings here, and Sophia arranged that Eliza +should bring her own sewing and work at it under her direction. Harold +very often read aloud to them. It was astonishing how quickly, not +imperceptibly, but determinedly, the Canadian girl took on the habits +and manners of the lady beside her; not thereby producing a poor +imitation, for Eliza was not imitative, but by careful study reproducing +in herself much of Sophia's refinement. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +That evening Blue and Red were sent to bed rather in disgrace, because +they had professed themselves too sleepy to finish sewing a seam their +mother had given them to do. + +Very sleepy, very glad to fold up their work, they made their way, +through the cold empty room which was intended to be the drawing-room +when it was furnished, to one of the several bedrooms that opened off +it. There was only one object in the empty room which they passed +through, and that was the big family carriage, for which no possible use +could be found during the long winter, and for the storing of which no +outside place was considered good enough. It stood wheelless in a +corner, with a large grey cloth over it, and the girls passing it with +their one flickering candle looked at it a little askance. They had the +feeling that something might be within or behind it which would bounce +out at them. + +Once, however, within their small whitewashed bedroom, they felt quite +safe. Their spirits rose a little when they shut the door, for now there +was no exacting third person to expect anything but what they chose to +give. Theirs was that complete happiness of two persons when it has been +long proved that neither ever does anything which the other does not +like, and neither ever wants from the other what is not naturally given. + +They were still sleepy when they unbuttoned each other's frocks, but +when they had come to the next stage of shaking out their curly hair +they began to make remarks which tended to dispel their drowsiness. + +Said Blue, "Is it very dreadful to be a dentist?" + +Said Red, "Yes; horrid. You have to put your fingers in people's mouths, +you know." + +"But doctors have to _cut off legs_, and doctors are quite----" + +There is another advantage in perfect union of twin souls, and that is, +that it is never necessary to finish a remark the end of which does not +immediately find expression on the tip of the tongue, for the other +always knows what is going to be said. + +"Yes, I know doctors are," replied Red; "still, you know, Principal +Trenholme said Mr. Harkness is not a well-bred American." + +"His first name is Cyril. I saw it on the card," replied Blue, quitting +the question of social position. + +"It's a _lovely_ name," said Red, earnestly. + +"And I'll tell you," said Blue, turning round with sudden earnestness +and emphasis, "I think he's the _handsomest_ young man I _ever saw_." + +The rather odd plan Mrs. Rexford had hit on for lessening the likeness +between these two, clothing each habitually in a distinctive colour, had +not been carried into her choice of material for their dressing-gowns. +These garments were white; and, as a stern mood of utility had guided +their mother's shears, they were short and almost shapeless. The curly +hair which was being brushed over them had stopped its growth, as curly +hair often does, at the shoulders. In the small whitewashed room the two +girls looked as much like choristers in surplices as anything might +look, and their sweet oval faces had that perfect freshness of youth +which is strangely akin to the look of holiness, in spite of the +absolute frivolity of conduct which so often characterises young +companionship. + +When Blue made her earnest little assertion, she also made an earnest +little dab at the air with her brush to emphasise it; and Red, letting +her brush linger on her curly mop, replied with equal emphasis and the +same earnest, open eyes, "Oh, so do I." + +This decided, there was quiet for a minute, only the soft sound of +brushing. Then Red began that pretty little twittering which bore to +their laughter when in full force the same relation that the first faint +chit, chit, chit of a bird bears to its full song. + +"Weren't papa and mamma funny when they talked about what we should do +if he spoke to us?" + +She did not finish her sentence before merriment made it difficult for +her to pronounce the words; and as for Blue, she was obliged to throw +herself on the side of the bed. + +Then again Blue sat up. + +"You're to look down as you pass him, Red--like this, look!" + +"_That_ isn't right." Red said this with a little shriek of delight. +"You're smiling all over your face--that won't do." + +"Because I _can't_ keep my face straight. Oh, Red, what _shall_ we do? I +know that if we _ever_ see him after this we shall simply _die_." + +"Oh, yes"--with tone of full conviction--"I know we shall." + +"But we _shall_ meet him." + +They became almost serious for some moments at the thought of the +inevitableness of the meeting and the hopelessness of conducting +themselves with any propriety. + +"And what will he think?" continued Blue, in sympathetic distress; "he +will certainly think we are laughing at _him_, for he will never imagine +how much we have been amused." + +Red, however, began to brush her hair again. "Blue," said she, "did you +ever try to see how you looked in the glass when your eyes were cast +down? You can't, you know." + +Blue immediately tried, and admitted the difficulty. + +"I wish I could," said Red, "for then I should know how I should look +when he had spoken to me and I was passing him." + +"Well, do it, and I'll tell you." + +"Then you stand there, and I'll come along past and look down just when +I meet you." + +Red made the experiment rather seriously, but Blue cried out: + +"Oh, you looked at me out of the corner of your eye, just as you were +looking down--that'll never do." + +"I didn't mean to. Now look! I'm doing it again." The one white-gowned +figure stood with its back to the bed while the other through its little +acting down the middle of the room. + +"That's better"--critically. + +"Well," pursued Red, with interest, "how does it look?" + +"Rather nice. I shouldn't wonder if he fell in love with you." + +This was a sudden and extraordinary audacity of thought. + +"Oh, Blue!"--in shocked tones--"How could you think of such a thing!" She +reproached her sister as herself. It was actually the first time such a +theme had been broached even in their private converse. + +"Well," said Blue, stoutly, "he might, you know. Such things happen." + +"I don't think it's quite nice to think of it," said Red, meditatively. + +"It isn't nice," said Blue, agreeing perfectly, but unwilling to recant; +"still, it may be our duty to think of it. Sophia said once that a woman +was always more or less responsible if a man fell in love with her." + +"Did Sophia say that?" Weighty worlds of responsibility seemed to be +settling on little Red's shoulders. + +"Yes; she was talking to mamma about something. So, as it's quite +possible he might fall in love with us, we _ought_ to consider the +matter." + +"You don't think he's falling in love with Eliza, do you?" + +"Oh no!"--promptly--"but then Eliza isn't like us." + +Red looked at her pretty face in the glass as she continued to smooth +out the brown curls. She thought of Eliza's tall figure, immobile white +face, and crown of red hair. + +"No," she said, meditatively; "but, Blue"--this quite seriously--"I hope +he won't fall in love with us." + +"Oh, so do I; for it would make him feel so miserable. But I think, +Red, when you looked down you did not look _prim_ enough--you know papa +said 'prim.' Now, you stand, and I'll do it." + +So Blue now passed down the little narrow room, but when she came to the +critical spot, the supposed meeting ground, her desire to laugh +conflicting with the effort to pull a long face, caused such a wry +contortion of her plump visage that seriousness deserted them once more, +and they bubbled over in mirth that would have been boisterous had it +not been prudently muffled in the pillows. + +After that they said their prayers. But when they had taken off the +clumsy dressing-gowns and got into the feather-bed under the big +patchwork quilt, like two little white rabbits nestling into one +another, they reverted once more to their father's instructions for +meeting the dentist, and giggled themselves to sleep. + +Another pair of talkers, also with some common attributes of character, +but with less knowledge of each other, were astir after these sisters +had fallen asleep. + +Most of the rooms in the house were on the ground-floor, but there were +two attic bedrooms opening off a very large room in the roof which the +former occupant had used as a granary. One of these Sophia occupied with +a child; the other had been given to Eliza. That night, when Sophia was +composing herself to sleep, she heard Eliza weeping. So smothered were +the sounds of sorrow that she could hardly hear them. She lifted her +head, listened, then, putting a long fur cloak about her, went into the +next room. + +No sooner was her hand on the latch of Eliza's door than all sound +ceased. She stood for a minute in the large, dark granary. The draught +in it was almost great enough to be called a breeze, and it whispered in +the eaves which the sloping rafters made round the edges of the floor as +a wind might sigh in some rocky cave. Sophia opened the door and went +in. + +"What is the matter, Eliza?" + +Even in the almost darkness she could see that the girl's movement Was +an involuntary feigning of surprise. + +"Nothing." + +"I used to hear you crying when we first came, Eliza, and now you have +begun it again. Tell me what troubles you. Why do you pretend that +nothing is the matter?" + +The cold glimmer of the light of night reflected on snow came in at the +diamond-shaped window, and the little white bed was just shadowed forth +to Sophia's sight. The girl in it might have been asleep, she remained +so quiet. + +"Are you thinking about your father?" + +"I don't know." + +"Do you dislike being here?" + +"No; but--" + +"But what? What is troubling you, Eliza? You're not a girl to cry for +nothing. Since you came to us I have seen that you are a +straightforward, good girl; and you have plenty of sense, too. Come, +tell me how it is you cry like this?" + +Eliza sat up. "You won't tell them downstairs?" she said slowly. + +"You may trust me not to repeat anything that is not necessary." + +Eliza moved nervously, and her movements suggested hopelessness of +trouble and difficulty of speech. Sophia pitied her. + +"I don't know," she said restlessly, stretching out aimless hands into +the darkness, "I don't know why I cry, Miss Sophia. It isn't for one +thing more than another; everything is the reason--everything, +everything." + +"You mean, for one thing, that your father has gone, and you are +homesick?" + +"You said you wouldn't _tell?_" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I'm not sorry about _that_, because--well, I suppose I liked +father as well as he liked me, but as long as he lived I'd have had to +stay on the clearin', and I hated that. I'm glad to be here; but, oh! I +want so much--I want so much--oh, Miss Sophia, don't you know?" + +In some mysterious way Sophia felt that she did know, although she could +not in any way formulate her confused feeling of kinship with this young +girl, so far removed from her in outward experience. It seemed to her +that she had at some time known such trouble as this, which was composed +of wanting "so much--so much," and hands that were stretched, not +towards any living thing, but vaguely to all possible possession outside +the longing self. + +"I want to be something," said Eliza, "rich or--I don't know--I would +like to drive about in a fine way like some ladies do, or wear grander +clothes than any one. Yes, I would like to keep a shop, or do something +to make me very rich, and make everybody wish they were like me." + +Sophia smiled to herself, but the darkness was about them. Then Sophia +sighed. Crude as were the notions that went to make up the ignorant idea +of what was desirable, the desire for it was without measure. There was +a silence, and when Eliza spoke again Sophia did not doubt but that she +told her whole mind. + +It is a curious thing, this, that when a human being of average +experience is confided in, the natural impulse is to assume that +confidence is complete, and the adviser feels as competent to pronounce +upon the case from the statement given as if minds were as limpid as +crystal, and words as fit to represent them as a mirror is to show the +objects it reflects. Yet if the listener would but look within, he would +know that in any complicated question of life there would be much that +he would not, more than he could not, tell of himself, unless long years +of closest companionship had revealed the one heart to the other in ways +that are beyond the power of words. And that is so even if the whole +heart is set to be honest above all--and how many hearts are so set? + +"You see," said Eliza, "if people knew I had lived on a very poor +clearin' and done the work, they'd despise me perhaps." + +"It is no disgrace to any one to have worked hard, and it certainly +cannot be a disadvantage in this country." + +"It was rough." + +"You are not very rough, Eliza. It strikes me that you have been pretty +carefully trained and taught." + +"Yes, I was that"--with satisfaction. "But don't you think, if I got on, +grand people would always look down at me if they knew I'd lived so +common? And besides, I'm sometimes afraid the man that went shares at +the land with father will want to find me." + +"But you said you told him you were coming away." + +"I told him, plain and honest; but I had a long way to walk till I got +to the train, and I just went off. But he won't find it so easy to fill +my place, and get some one to do the housework! He'd have kept me, if he +could; and if he heard where I was he might come and try to get me back +by saying father said I was to obey him till I was twenty-one." + +"If your father said--that--" + +"No," cried the girl, vehemently, "he never did." + +"You will hear from your uncle in Scotland?" said Sophia. + +"I don't believe he'll write to me. I don't believe he lives any more +where I sent the letter. It's years and years since father heard from +him. I said I'd write because I thought it would look more respectable +to Mrs. Rexford to have an uncle. And I did write; but he won't answer." + +This was certainly frank. + +"Was that honest, Eliza?" + +"No, Miss Sophia; but I felt so miserable. It's hard to walk off with +your bundle, and be all alone and afraid of a man coming after you, and +being so angry. He was dreadful angry when I told him I'd come. If you'd +only _promise_ not tell where I came from to anybody, so that it can't +get round to him that I'm here, and so that people won't know how I +lived before--" + +"Well, we certainly have no reason to tell anybody. If it will make you +content, I can assure you none of us will talk about your affairs. Was +that all the trouble?" + +"No--not all." + +"Well, what else?" Sophia laughed a little, and laid her cool hand on +the girl's hot one. + +"I can't be anything grand ever, and begin by being a servant, Miss +Sophia. I say I'm not a servant, and I try not to act like one; but Mrs. +Rexford, she's tried hard to make me one. You wouldn't like to be a +servant, Miss Sophia?" + +"You are very childish and foolish," said Sophia. "If I had not been +just as foolish about other things when I was your age I would laugh at +you now. But I know it's no use to tell you that the things you want +will not make you happy, and that the things you don't want would, +because I know you will not believe it. I will do my best to help you to +get what you want, so far as it is not wrong, if you will promise to +tell me all your difficulties." + +"Will you help me? Why are you so kind?" + +"Because--" said Sophia. Then she said no more. + +Eliza showed herself cheered. + +"You're the only one I care to talk to, Miss Sophia. The others haven't +as much sense as you, have they?" + +As these words were quietly put forth in the darkness, without a notion +of impropriety, Sophia was struck with the fact that they coincided with +her own estimate of the state of the case. + +"Eliza, what are you talking of--not of my father and mother surely?" + +"Why, yes. I think they're good and kind, but I don't think they've a +deal of sense--do you?" + +"My father is a wiser man than you can understand, Eliza; and--" Sophia +broke off, she was fain to retreat; it was cold for one thing. + +"Miss Sophia," said Eliza, as she was getting to the door, "there's one +thing--you know that young man they were talking about to-night?" + +"What of him?" + +"Well, if he were to ask about me, you'd not tell him anything, would +you? I've never told anybody but you about father, or any particulars. +The others don't know anything, and you won't tell, will you?" + +"I've told you I won't take upon myself to speak of your affairs. What +has that young man to do with it?"--with some severity. + +"It's only that he's a traveller, and I feel so silly about every +traveller, for fear they'd want me to go back to the clearin'." + +Sophia took the few necessary steps in the cold dark granary and reached +her own room. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Sophia was sitting with Mrs. Rexford on the sofa that stood with its +back to the dining-room window. The frame of the sofa was not turned, +but fashioned with saw and knife and plane; not glued, but nailed +together. Yet it did not lack for comfort; it was built oblong, large, +and low; it was cushioned with sacking filled with loose hay plentifully +mixed with Indian grass that gave forth a sweet perfume, and the whole +was covered with a large neat pinafore of such light washing stuff as +women wear about their work on summer days. Sophia and her step-mother +were darning stockings. The homesickness of the household was rapidly +subsiding, and to-day these two were not uncomfortable or unhappy. The +rest of the family, some to work, some to play, and some to run errands, +had been dismissed into the large outside. + +The big house was tranquil. The afternoon sun, which had got round to +the kitchen window, blazed in there through a fringe of icicles that +hung from the low eaves of the kitchen roof, and sent a long strip of +bright prismatic rays across the floor and through the door on to the +rag carpet under the dining-room table. Ever and anon, as the ladies +sewed, the sound of sleigh-bells came to them, distant, then nearer, +then near, with the trotting of horses' feet as they passed the house, +then again more distant. The dining-room window faced the road, but one +could not see through it without standing upright. + +"Mamma," said Sophia, "it is quite clear we can never make an ordinary +servant out of Eliza; but if we try to be companionable to her we may +help her to learn what she needs to learn, and make her more willing to +stay with us." + +It was Mrs. Rexford's way never to approach a subject gradually in +speech. If her mind went through the process ordinarily manifested in +introductory remarks it slipped through it swiftly and silently, and her +speech darted into the heart of the subject, or skipped about and hit it +on all sides at once. + +"Ah, but I told her again and again, Sophia, to say 'miss' to the girls. +She either didn't hear, or she forgot, or she wouldn't understand. I +think you're the only one she'll say 'miss' to. But we couldn't do +without her. Mrs. Nash was telling me the other day that her girl had +left in the middle of the washing, and the one they had before that for +a year--a little French Romanist--stole all their handkerchiefs, and did +not give them back till she made confession to her priest at Easter. It +was very _awkward_, Sophia, to be without handkerchiefs all winter." The +crescendo emphasis which Mrs. Rexford had put into her remarks found its +fortissimo here. Then she added more mildly, "Though I got no character +with Eliza I am convinced she will never pilfer." + +Mrs. Rexford was putting her needle out and in with almost electric +speed. Her mind was never quiet, but there was a healthy cheerfulness in +her little quick movements that removed them from the region of weak +nervousness. Yet Sophia knit her brow, and it was with an effort that +she continued amicably: + +"Certainly we should be more uncomfortable without her just now than +she would be without us; but if she left us there's no saying where her +ambition might lead her." + +Mrs. Rexford bethought her that she must look at some apples that were +baking in the kitchen oven, which she did, and was back in time to make +a remark in exchange without causing any noticeable break in the +conversation. She always gave remarks in exchange, seldom in reply. + +"Scotchmen are faithful to their kinsfolk usually, aren't they, Sophia?" + +"You think that the uncle she wrote to will answer. He may be dead, or +may have moved away; the chances are ten to one that he will not get the +letter. I think the girl is in our hands. We have come into a +responsibility that we can't make light of." + +"Good gracious, Sophia! it's only the hen with one chicken that's afraid +to take another under her wing." + +"I know you want to do your best for her--that's why I'm talking." + +"Oh, _I_--it's you that takes half the burden of them all." + +"Well, _we_ want to do our best--" + +"And you, my dear, could go back whenever you liked. _You_ have not +burned the bridges and boats behind you. There's _one_ would be glad to +see you back in the old country, and that lover of yours is a good man, +Sophia." + +A sudden flush swept over the young woman's face, as if the allusion +offended her; but she took no other notice of what was said, and +continued: "I don't suggest any radical alteration in our ways; I only +thought that, if you had it in your mind to make a companion of her, the +pains you take in teaching her might take a rather different form, and +perhaps have a better result." + +"I think our own girls grow more giddy every day," said Mrs. Rexford, +exactly as if it were an answer. "If Blue and Red were separated they +would both be more sensible." + +The mother's mind had now wandered from thought of the alien she had +taken, not because she had not given attention to the words of the +daughter she thought so wise, but because, having considered them as +long as she was accustomed to consider anything, she had decided to act +upon them, and so could dismiss the subject with a good conscience. + +The conversation ceased thus, as many conversations do, without apparent +conclusion; for Sophia, vexed by her step-mother's flighty manner of +speech, hid her mood in silence. Anything like discussion between these +two always irritated Sophia, and then, conscious that she had in this +fallen below her ideal, she chafed again at her own irritation. The evil +from which she now suffered was of the stuff of which much of the pain +of life is made--a flimsy stuff that vanishes before the investigation +of reason more surely than the stuff of our evanescent joys. There was +nothing that could be called incompatibility of temper between these +two; no one saw more clearly than Sophia the generosity and courage of +Mrs. Rexford's heart; no one else sympathised so deeply with her +motherly cares, for no one else understood them half so well; and yet it +might have been easier for Sophia Rexford to have lived in external +peace with a covetous woman, able to appreciate and keep in steady view +the relative importance of her ideas. + +Meantime Mrs. Rexford went on talking. She was generally unconscious of +the other's intellectual disdain. Pretty soon they heard bells and +horses' feet that slackened at the gate. Sophia stood up to look. + +There was a comfortable sleigh, albeit somewhat battered and dingy, +turning in at the gate. A good-looking girl was driving it; a thin, pale +lady sat at her side. Both were much enveloped in faded furs. Over the +seats of the sleigh and over their knees were spread abundant robes of +buffalo hide. The horse that drew the vehicle was an old farm-horse, and +the hand that guided the reins appeared more skilful at driving than was +necessary. The old reins and whip were held in a most stylish manner, +and the fair driver made an innocent pretence of guiding her steed up +the road to the back-yard with care. The animal the while, having once +been shown the gate, trotted quietly, with head down, up the middle of +the sleigh track, and stopped humbly where the track stopped, precisely +as it would have done had there been no hand upon the rein. + +Sophia, standing in the middle of the sitting-room, watched the visitors +through the windows of that room and of the kitchen, with unwonted +animation in her handsome face. The girl, who was now evidently coming +with her mother to call upon them, had been named to her more than once +by discriminating people as the most likely person in the neighbourhood +to prove a friend and companion to herself, and Sophia, in her present +situation, could not be at all indifferent to such a prospect. She had +already observed them in church, wondering not a little at that +scrupulous attention to ceremony which had made them ignore the +existence of the newcomers till their acquaintance should have been made +in due form. + +"Mamma," said she, "this is Mrs. Bennett and her daughter." + +"Something to do with an admiral, haven't they?" cried Mrs. Rexford. + +It proved to be an unnecessary exertion of memory on Mrs. Rexford's part +to recollect what she had heard of the relatives of her visitors, for +not long after Mrs. Bennett had introduced herself and her daughter she +brought her uncle, the admiral, into the conversation with considerable +skill. + +She was a delicate, narrow-minded woman, with no open vulgarity about +her, but simply ignorant of the fact that bragging of one's +distinguished relatives had fallen into disuse. Her daughter, was like +her in manner, with the likeness imposed by having such a mother, but +much more largely made in mind and body, pleasant-looking, healthy, +high-browed. Sophia liked her appearance. + +Mrs. Rexford, her mind ever upon some practical exigency, now remembered +that she had also heard that the Bennetts managed their dairy +excellently, and, having a large craving for help on all such subjects, +she began to bewail her own ignorance, asking many and various +questions; but, although she did not perceive it, it soon became +apparent to her more observant daughter that the visitors, having come +out to make a call of ceremony, preferred to talk on subjects more +remote from their daily drudgery, on subjects which they apparently +considered more elegant and becoming. Unable to check the flow of her +mother's talk, Sophia could only draw her chair cosily near to Miss +Bennett and strike into a separate conversation, hoping for, and +expecting, mental refreshment. + +"I suppose there are no good lending libraries in any of the towns near +here," she began. "How do you get new books or magazines?" + +Miss Bennett had a bright, cordial manner. She explained that she +thought there was a circulating library in every town. When she was +visiting in Quebec her friends had got a novel for her at two cents a +day. And then she said Principal Trenholme bought a good many books, and +he had once told her mother that he would lend them any they chose, but +they had never had time to go and look over them. "It has," she added, +"been such an advantage to Chellaston to have a gentleman so clever as +he at the college." + +"Has it?" said Sophia, willing to hear more. "Is he very clever?" + +"Oh," cried the other, "from Oxford, you know;" and she said it in much +the tone she might have said "from heaven." + +"Is it long," asked Sophia, "since you have been in England?" + +Miss Bennett said she had never been "home," but she longed, above all +things, to go. + +She had, it seemed, been born in Canada, and her parents had no +possessions in the mother-country, and yet she always called it "home." +This was evidently a tradition. + +Sophia, who had come from England a little tired of the conditions +there, and eager for a change, felt the pathetic sameness of the +discontent wrought by surfeit and by famine. + +"Yet," said she, "it is a relief to the mind to feel that one lives in a +country where no worthy person is starving, and where every one has a +good chance in life if he will but avail himself of it. It seems to make +me breathe more freely to know that in all this great country there is +none of that necessary poverty that we have in big English towns." + +Little answer was made to this, and Sophia went on to talk of what +interested her in English politics; but found that of the politics, as +well as of the social condition, of the country she adored, Miss Bennett +was largely ignorant. Her interest in such matters appeared to sum +itself up in a serene belief that Disraeli, then prominent, was the one +prop of the English Constitution, and as adequate to his position as +Atlas beneath the world. Now, Sophia cherished many a Radical opinion of +her own, and she would have enjoyed discussion; but it would have been +as difficult to aim a remark at the present front of her new +acquaintance as it would be for a marksman to show his skill with a +cloud of vapour as a target. Sophia tried Canadian politics, owning her +ignorance and expressing her desire to understand what she had read in +the newspapers since her arrival; but Miss Bennett was not sure that +there was anything that "could exactly be called politics" in Canada, +except that there was a Liberal party who "wanted to ruin the country by +free trade." + +Sophia ceased to take the initiative. She still endeavoured to respect +the understanding of a girl of whom she had heard that when her father's +fortunes were at a low ebb she had retrieved them by good management and +personal industry--a girl, too, who through years of toil had preserved +sprightliness and perfect gentility. What though this gentility was +somewhat cramped by that undue importance given to trifles which is +often the result of a remote life; it was still a very lovely thing, a +jewel shining all the more purely for its iron setting of honest labour. +Sophia fought with the scorn that was thrusting itself into her heart as +she listened when Miss Bennett now talked in a charming way about the +public characters and incidents which interested her. + +"I wish for your sake, Miss Rexford," she said, "that some of the Royal +family would come out again. The only time that there is any real +advantage in being in a colony is when some of them come out; for here, +you know, they take notice of every one." + +"One would still be on the general level then," said Sophia, smiling. + +"Well, I don't know. It makes one feel distinguished, you know, in spite +of that. Now, when the Prince was out, he stopped here for a night, and +we had a ball. It was simply delightful! He danced with us all--I mean +with all who could claim to be ladies, and indeed with some who could +not; but how could _he_ discriminate? There was a man called Blake, who +kept a butcher's shop here then--you may have noticed we haven't such a +thing as a butcher's shop in the village now, Miss Rexford?" + +"Indeed I have. It seems so odd." + +"Blake had a handsome daughter; and when we had a ball for the Prince, +didn't he buy her a fine dress, and take her to it! She really looked +very handsome." + +"I hope the Prince danced with her," laughed Sophia. Her good spirits +were rising, in spite of herself, under the influence of the liveliness +with which Miss Bennett's mind had darted, birdlike, into its own +element. + +"_Yes_, he did. Wasn't it good-natured of him! I believe his +aide-de-camp told him who she was; but he was so gracious; he said she +should not go away mortified. I never spoke to her myself; but I've no +doubt she was unable to open her mouth without betraying her origin; but +perhaps on that occasion she had the grace to keep silent, and she +danced fairly well." + +"Was her head turned by the honour?" asked Sophia, led by the other's +tone to expect a sequel to the tale. + +"Poor girl! The end was sadder than that. She caught a violent cold, +from wearing a dress cut low when she wasn't accustomed to it, and she +died in a week. When we heard of it I was glad that he _had_ danced with +her; but some were cruel enough to say that it served Blake right for +his presumption. He was so broken-hearted he left the place. The dress +she wore that night was a green silk, and he had her buried in it; and +some one told the Prince, and he sent some flowers. Wasn't it sweet of +him! They were buried with her too. It was quite romantic." + +"More romantic to have such a swan-like death than to live on as a +butcher's daughter," said Sophia, and sarcasm was only a small +ingredient in the speech. + +"We were quite grieved about it," said Miss Bennett, sincerely. + +Sophia also felt sorry, but it was not her way to say so. She was more +interested in remarking upon the singular method of getting butcher's +meat then in vogue at Chellaston. A Frenchman, a butcher in a small way, +drove from door to door with his stock, cutting and weighing his joints +in an open box-sleigh. To see the frozen meat thus manipulated in the +midst of the snow had struck Sophia as one of the most novel features of +their present way of life. Miss Bennett, however, could hardly be +expected to feel its picturesqueness. Her parents did not fancy this +vendor's meat, and at present they usually killed their own. Her father, +she said, had grown quite dexterous in the art. + +"Really!" cried Sophia. This was an item of real interest, for it +suggested to her for the first time the idea that a gentleman could +slaughter an ox. She was not shocked; it was simply a new idea, which +she would have liked to enlarge on; but good-breeding forbade, for Miss +Bennett preferred to chat about the visit of the Prince, and she +continued to do so in a manner so lively that Sophia found it no dull +hearing. + +"And, do you know," she cried, "what Bertha Nash did? The Nashes, you +know, are of quite a common family, although, as Dr. Nash is everybody's +doctor, of course we are all on good terms with them. Well, Bertha asked +the Prince how his mother was!" She stopped. + +"I suppose he knew whom she was talking about?" + +"Oh, that was the worst of it--he couldn't _help knowing_," cried Miss +Bennett. "I should have sunk through the floor with mortification if I +had done such a thing. I should have expected to be arrested on the spot +for high treason. Bertha says, you know, that she was so nervous at the +thought of who her partner was that she didn't know what she was saying; +but I scarcely think she knew really how to address him. One can never +be thankful enough, I'm sure, for having been thoroughly well brought +up." + +She went on to explain what had been her own sensations when first +accosted by this wonderful Prince, upon being led out by him, and so on. +It all sounded like a new fairy tale; but afterwards, when she had gone, +with cordial wishes, as she took leave, that another prince might come +soon and dance with Sophia, the latter felt as if she had been reading a +page of an old-fashioned history which took account only of kings and +tournaments. + +This visit was a distinct disappointment on the whole. Sophia had hoped +more from it, and coming after weeks that had been trying, it had power +to depress. It was late afternoon now, and the day was the last in the +year. Sophia, going upstairs to get rid of the noise of the children, +was arrested by the glow of the sunset, and, weary as she was, stood +long by the diamond window that was set in the wooden wall of her room. +It was cold. She wrapped a cloak about her. She did not at first look +observantly at the glow and beauty outside. Her eyes wandered over the +scene, the bright colour upon it rousing just enough interest to keep +her standing there: her thoughts were within. + +Sophia Rexford had set herself, like many a saint of olden and modern +times, to crush within her all selfishness; and the result had been the +result of all such effort when it is staunch and honest--to show that +that against which she was warring was no mere mood or bad habit, to be +overcome by directing the life on a nobler plan, but a living thing, +with a vitality so strong that it seemed as if God Himself must have +given it life. She stood now baffled, as she had often been before, by +her invincible enemy. Where was the selfless temper of mind that was her +ideal? Certainly not within her. She was too candid to suppose for a +moment that the impatient scorn she felt for those with whom she had +been talking approached in any way to that humility and love that are +required of the Christian. She felt overwhelmed by surging waves of evil +within. It was at the source the fountain ought to be sweet, and there +ambition and desire for pleasure rose still triumphant; and the current +of her will, set against them, seemed only to produce, not their +abatement, but a whirlpool of discontent, which sucked into itself all +natural pleasures, and cast out around its edge those dislikes and +disdains which were becoming habitual in her intercourse with others. It +was all wrong--she knew it. She leaned her head against the cold pane, +and her eyes grew wet with tears. + +There is no sorrow on earth so real as this; no other for which such +bitter tears have been shed; no other which has so moved the heart of +God with sympathy. Yet there came to Sophia just then a strange thought +that her tears were unnecessary, that the salvation of the world was +something better than this conflict, that the angels were looking upon +her discouragement in pained surprise. + +She had no understanding with which to take in this thought. As she +looked at it, with her soul's eye dim, it passed away; and she, trying +in vain to recall the light that it seemed to hold, wondered if it would +come again. + +Perhaps the tears had given relief to her brain; perhaps some Divine +Presence had come near her, giving hope that she could not weigh or +measure or call by name; at any rate, as she looked round again with +fresh glance, the scene outside seemed fairer than it had yet appeared +to her. + +A long strip had been swept on the ice of the river by pleasure-loving +hands. Down this burnished path young men and maidens were skating, and +their way was paved with gold. There was soft tinting of this same light +on the undulations of the pearly land beyond; blue shadows were in its +woods, and reflected fire on many a window of the houses that clustered +near and far. She knew that in each house that was a true Canadian home +there was joyous preparations going on for the next day's fęte. She +wondered what it would be like to be at home in this country, to be one +in its sports and festivities. She could not see from her attic window +the land on this side of the river, but she heard the shouts of some +boys who were spending their holiday at the college. They were at some +game or other in a field near. Sophia liked to hear them. + +Just then Mrs. Rexford came upstairs to consult her about something. She +joined in the outlook for a few moments, and the sunset made her +reflective. + +"Well, my love," said she, "last year at this time we did not know we +should be here to-day! Ah, Sophia, it is always a little doleful to see +the Old Year go out; but here, where there are no bells in the churches, +it will seem less solemn." + +END OF BOOK I. + + + + +BOOK II. + + "_Necessity, like light's electric force, + Is in ourselves and all things, and no more + Without us than within us_--." + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The bells have solemn sound that from old belfries ring the passing of +the year in the hearing of thousands; but perhaps it is a more solemn +thing to watch and tell the birth of a new year by the march of stars +that look down out of their purple void upon a land of trackless snow. +If ceremony and the united sentiment of many hearts have impressive +effect, they yet tend to lighten the burden of individual +responsibility, which presses with weight, like the weight of the +atmosphere upon a vacuum, when a man tries to grapple with his own soul +in solitude. + +Alec Trenholme was spending another wakeful night in the living-room of +his small railway station. Winter lay around him. For a month the +blueberry flats and bramble thickets had been wholly lost under the +snow, which stretched far whiter than the pure white of the birch trees +in the nearest groves. Now the last night but one of the old year had +brought a fresh downfall, unusually heavy; the long, straight railway +track, and the sleigh-road which was kept open between the station and +Turrifs Settlement, had been obliterated by it. Alec Trenholme had awoke +that morning to observe that his little station of new wood, and the +endless line of rough telegraph poles, were the only remaining signs of +man's lordship of earth, as far as his eyes could see. It was upon this +sight, when the snow clouds had fled, that he had seen a scarlet sun +come up; over the same scene he had watched it roll its golden chariot +all day, and, tinging the same unbroken drifts, it had sunk scarlet +again in the far southwest. He had not been far from his house, and no +one, in train, or sleigh, or on snow-shoes, had happened to come near +it. + +He would have gone himself to Turrifs for milk, for the pleasure of +exchanging a word with his fellow-men, and for air and exercise, had it +not been that he had hourly expected to see an engine, with its +snow-plough, approaching on the rails. Conversation by telegraph would +have been a relief to him, but the wires seemed to have succumbed in +more than one place to their weight of snow, and there was nothing for +this young station-master to do but wait, and believe that communication +would be re-established over the road and the wires sooner or later. In +the meantime he suffered no personal inconvenience, unless loneliness +can be thus named, for he had abundance of food and fuel. He watched the +bright day wane and the sun of the old year set, and filled his stove +with wood, and ate his supper, and told himself that he was a very +fortunate fellow and much better off than a large proportion of men. + +It is not always when we tell ourselves that we are well off that we are +happiest: that self-addressed assertion often implies some tacit +contradiction. + +When darkness came he wondered if he should put on his snow-shoes and +run over to Turrifs. Yet for some reason he did not go, in the way that +men so often do not do things that they think on the whole would be very +good things to do. An hour or two later he knew that the good people +there would have gone to bed and that he had no longer the option of +going. He did not go to bed himself. He had not had enough exercise that +day to make him sleepy; and then, too, he thought he would sit up and +see the old year out. He had an indistinct idea that it was rather a +virtuous thing to do, rather more pious than sleeping the night through +just as if it were any other night. He put his much-handled, oft-read +books down before him on the table, and set himself to passing the +evening with them. Midnight is actually midnight when the sun goes down +before five o'clock and there is no artificial interest for the after +hours. + +Most men have more religion at heart, latent or developed, than can be +seen by others. When they have not, when what shows is as much as what +is--God pity them! + +Alec Trenholme was not given to self-dissection or to expression of his +private sentiments, therefore neither to himself nor to others was the +religion of him very visible. Nevertheless, this evening his books, +which had become not less but more to him because he had read them +often, palled upon his taste. When he was a boy his father had taught +him that at New Year's time one ought to consider whether the past had +been spent well, and how the future could be spent better. So, as time +went on, he pushed his books further and set himself to this +consideration. For a while he sat looking at his own doings only by the +light, as it were, of two candles--the one, of expediency; the other, of +rectitude. Had he been wise? Had he been good? + +Not being of a contemplative or egotistical disposition, he soon +fidgeted. Thinking he heard a sound outside, which might be wind rising, +or might be the distant approach of the iron snow-plough, he got up to +look out. The small panes of his window were so obscured by frostwork +that he did not attempt to look through the glass, but opened his door. +Far or near there was no sign of rising wind or coming engine; only, +above, the glowing stars, with now and then a shaft of northern light +passing majestically beneath them, and, below, the great white world, +dim, but clearly seen as it reflected the light. The constellations +attracted his attention. There hung Orion, there the Pleiades, there +those mists of starlight which tell us of space and time of which we +cannot conceive. Standing, looking upwards, he suddenly believed himself +to be in the neighbourhood of God. + +When the keen air upon his bare head had driven him indoors, he sat down +again to formulate his good resolutions, he found that his candles of +expediency and morality had gone out. The light which was there instead +was the Presence of God; but so diffused was this light, so dim, that it +was as hard for him now to see distinction between right and wrong as +it would have been outside upon the snow to see a shadow cast by rays +which had left their stars half a century before. All, all of which he +could think seemed wrong, because it was not God; all, all of which he +could think seemed right, because it was part of God. The young man's +face sank on his arms and lay buried there, while he thought, and +thought, and thought, trying to bring a life of which he could think +into relation with that which is unthinkable. + +Was ever reverie more vain! He raised his head and stared about him. The +glaring lamp showed all the details of the room, and made it seem so +real, so much more real than mere thoughts, let alone that of which one +cannot think. He got up to alter the stove-damper, pushing it shut with +a clatter of iron, burning his fingers slightly, and sat down again, +feeling it a relief to know, if by the smart, that he had touched +something. + +The wood within the stove ceased blazing when the damper was shut, and +when its crackling was silenced there was a great quiet. The air outside +was still; the flame of the lamp could hardly make sound. Trenholme's +watch, which lay on the table, ticked and seemed to clamour for his +attention. He glanced down at it. It was not very far from midnight. + +Just then he heard another sound. It was possibly the same as that which +came to him an hour ago, but more continuous. There was no mistaking +this time that it was an unusual one. It seemed to him like a human +voice in prolonged ejaculatory speech at some distance. + +Startled, he again looked out of his door. At first he saw nothing, but +what he had seen before--the world of snow, the starry skies. Yet the +sound, which stopped and again went on, came to him as if from the +direction in which he looked. Looking, listening intently, he was just +about to turn in for his coat and snow-shoes in order to go forth and +seek the owner of the voice, when he perceived something moving between +him and the nearest wood--that very birch wood in which, more than a +month before, he had sought for the man Cameron who had disappeared from +his own coffin. In an instant the mood of that time flashed back on him +as if there had been nothing between. + +All the search that had been made for Cameron in the first days of the +snow had resulted in nothing but the finding of his coarse winding-sheet +in this birch wood. Then and since, confused rumours had come that he +was wandering from village to village, but no one had been brave enough +to detain him. Trenholme knew that people on the railway line to the +south believed firmly that the old man was still alive, or that his +ghost walked. Now, as his eyes focussed more intently upon the moving +thing, it looked to him like a man. + +Again he heard the sound of a voice, a man's voice certainly. It was +raised for the space of a minute in a sort of chant, not loud enough for +him to hear any word or to know what language was spoken. + +"Hi!" cried Trenholme at the top of his voice. "Hi, there! What do you +want?" + +There was no doubt that a man out there could have heard, yet, whatever +the creature was, it took not the slightest notice of the challenge. + +As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light he saw that the figure was +moving on the top of the deep snow near the outskirts of the +wood--moving about in an aimless way, stopping occasionally, and +starting again, raising the voice sometimes, and again going on in +silence. Trenholme could not descry any track left on the snow; all that +he could see was a large figure dressed in garments which, in the +starlight, did not seem to differ very much in hue from the snow, and he +gained the impression that the head was thrown back and the face +uplifted to the stars. + +He called again, adjuring the man he saw to come at once and say why he +was there and what he wanted. No attention was paid to him; he might as +well have kept silent. + +A minute or two more and he went in, shut and bolted his door, even +took the trouble to see that the door of the baggage-room was secured. +He took his lamp down from the wall where, by its tin reflector, it hung +on a nail, and set it on the table for company. He opened the damper of +the stove again, so that the logs within crackled. Then he sat down and +began to read the Shakespeare he had pushed from him before. What he had +seen and heard seemed to him very curious. No obligation rested upon +him, certainly, to go out and seek this weird-looking creature. There +was probably nothing supernatural, but--well, while a man is alone it is +wisest to shut out all that has even the appearance of the supernatural +from his house and from his mind. So Trenholme argued, choosing the +satirical fool of the Forest of Arden to keep him company. + +"Now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a +better place: but travellers must be content." + +Trenholme smiled. He had actually so controlled his mind as to become +lost in his book. + +There was a sound as if of movement on the light snow near by and of +hard breathing. Trenholme's senses were all alert again now as he turned +his head to listen. When the moving figure had seemed so indifferent to +his calls, what reason could it have now for seeking his door--unless, +indeed, it were a dead man retracing his steps by some mysterious +impulse, such as even the dead might feel? Trenholme's heart beat low +with the thought as he heard a heavy body bump clumsily against the +baggage-room door and a hand fumble at its latch. There was enough light +shining through his window to have shown any natural man that the small +door of his room was the right one by which to enter, yet the fumbling +at the other door continued. + +Trenholme went into the dark baggage-room and heard the stir against the +door outside. He went near it. Whoever was there went on fumbling to +find some way of entrance. + +By this time, if Trenholme had suffered any shock of dismay, he had +righted himself, as a ship rights itself after shuddering beneath a +wave. Clearly it now came within his province to find out what the +creature wanted; he went back into his room and opened its outer door. + +Extending beyond the wall, the flooring of the house made a little +platform outside, and, as the opening of the door illuminated this, a +man came quietly across the threshold with clumsy gait. This man was no +ghost. What fear of the supernatural had gathered about Trenholme's mind +fell off from it instantly in self-scorn. The stranger was tall and +strong, dressed in workman's light-coloured clothes, with a big, +somewhat soiled bit of white cotton worn round his shoulders as a shawl. +He carried in his hand a fur cap such as Canadian farmers wear; his grey +head was bare. What was chiefly remarkable was that he passed Trenholme +without seeming to see him, and stood in the middle of the room with a +look of expectation. His face, which was rugged, with a glow of +weather-beaten health upon it, had a brightness, a strength, an +eagerness, a sensibility, which were indescribable. + +"Well?" asked Trenholme rather feebly; then reluctantly he shut the +door, for all the cold of the night was pouring in. Neither of him nor +of his words or actions did the old man take the slightest notice. + +The description that had been given of old Cameron was fulfilled in the +visitor; but what startled Trenholme more than this likeness, which +might have been the result of mere chance, was the evidence that this +man was not a person of ordinary senses and wits. He seemed like one who +had passed through some crisis, which had deprived him of much, and +given him perhaps more. It appeared probable, from his gait and air, +that he was to some extent blind; but the eagerness of the eyes and the +expression of the aged face were enough to suggest at once, even to an +unimaginative mind, that he was looking for some vision of which he did +not doubt the reality and listening for sounds which he longed to hear. +He put out a large hand and felt the table as he made his clumsy way +round it. He looked at nothing in the room but the lamp on the table +where Trenholme had lately put it. Trenholme doubted, however, if he saw +it or anything else. When he got to the other side, having wandered +behind the reflector, he stopped, as if perhaps the point of light, +dimly seen, had guided him so far but now was lost. + +Trenholme asked him why he had come, what his name was, and several such +questions. He raised his voice louder and louder, but he might as well +have talked to the inanimate things about him. This one other human +being who had entered his desolate scene took, it would seem, no +cognisance of him at all. Just as we know that animals in some cases +have senses for sights and sounds which make no impression on human eyes +and ears, and are impervious to what we see and hear, so it seemed to +Trenholme that the man before him had organs of sense dead to the world +about him, but alive to something which he alone could perceive. It +might have been a fantastic idea produced by the strange circumstances, +but it certainly was an idea which leaped into his mind and would not be +reasoned away. He did not feel repulsion for the poor wanderer, or fear +of him; he felt rather a growing attraction--in part curiosity, in part +pity, in part desire for whatever it might be that had brought the look +of joyous expectancy into the aged face. This look had faded now to some +extent. The old man stood still, as one who had lost his way, not +seeking for indications of that which he had lost, but looking right +forwards and upwards, steadily, calmly, as if sure that something would +appear. + +Trenholme laid a strong hand upon his arm. "Cameron!" he shouted, to see +if that name would rouse him. The arm that he grasped felt like a rock +for strength and stillness. The name which he shouted more than once did +not seem to enter the ears of the man who had perhaps owned it in the +past. He shook off Trenholme's hand gently without turning towards him. + +"Ay," he said. (His voice was strong.) Then he shook his head with a +patient sigh. "Not here," he said, "not here." He spoke as deaf men +speak, unconscious of the key of their own voice. Then he turned +shuffling round the table again, and seemed to be seeking for the door. + +"Look here," said Trenholme, "don't go out." Again he put his hand +strongly on his visitor, and again he was quietly brushed aside. The +outside seemed so terribly cold and dark and desolate for this poor old +man to wander in, that Trenholme was sorry he should go. Yet go he did, +opening the door and shutting it behind him. + +Trenholme's greatcoat, cap, and snow-shoes were hanging against the +wall. He put them on quickly. When he got out the old man was fumbling +for something outside, and Trenholme experienced a distinct feeling of +surprise when he saw him slip his feet into an old pair of snow-shoes +and go forth on them. The old snow-shoes had only toe-straps and no +other strings, and the feat of walking securely upon seemed almost as +difficult to the young Englishman as walking on the sea of frozen atoms +without them; but still, the fact that the visitor wore them made him +seem more companionable. + +Trenholme supposed that the traveller was seeking some dwelling-place, +and that he would naturally turn either up the road to Turrifs or toward +the hills; instead of that, he made again for the birch wood, walking +fast with strong, elastic stride. Trenholme followed him, and they went +across acres of billowy snow. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Why Alec Trenholme followed the old man toward the wood he himself would +have found it a little difficult to tell. If this was really Cameron he +did not wish that he should escape; but, at the same time, he saw no +means of keeping him against his will, unless he went of his own accord +to some place where other men could be called to help. Quite apart, +however, from the question whether the stranger was Cameron or not, +Trenholme felt for him a sort of respect which character alone inspires, +and which character written in a man's appearance has often power to +inspire without a word or action to interpret it further. It was because +of this that curiosity to know where he was going and what for, and a +real solicitude as to what would happen to him, were strong enough to +lead the young man on. + +They who have not walked upon snow by starlight do not know, perhaps, +that the chief difficulty of such progress is that there is no shadow; +perhaps they do not even know that at all times the difference between +an upward and a downward slope is revealed to the eye by light and +shade. The snow on which the two men were now walking had been left by +the wind with slight undulations of surface, such as are produced in a +glassy sea by the swing of a gentle under-swell; and Trenholme, not +sensitive as the stranger seemed to be in the points of his snow-shoes, +found himself stepping up when he thought himself stepping down, and the +reverse. At last he stumbled and fell. + +It is not a matter of ease to rise from a bed which yields endlessly to +every pressure of arm or knee. Even a sea-bird, that strongest of +flyers, finds it hard to rise from any but its own element; and before +Trenholme had managed to spring up, as it were, from nothing, the man in +front had in some way become aware of his presence for the first time, +and of his fall; he turned and lifted him up with a strong hand. When +Trenholme was walking again the other retained a firm hold of his arm, +looked at him earnestly, and spoke to him. His words expressed a +religious idea which was evidently occupying his whole mind. + +"The Lord is coming presently to set up His kingdom," he said. "Are you +ready to meet Him?" + +On Alec Trenholme the effect of these words, more unexpected than any +other words could have been, was first and chiefly to convince him that +he was dealing with a witless person. Leaving him again, the speaker had +hurried on in front, making his way still toward the wood. When +Trenholme came up with him the wanderer had evidently found the place +where he had been before, for there was the irregular circular track of +his former wandering upon the snow. Trenholme counted himself a fool to +have been able before to suppose that there was no track because he had +not seen it. But he had hardly time for even this momentary glance at so +small a matter, for the old man was standing with face uplifted to the +stars, and he was praying aloud that the Divine Son of Man would return +to earth and set up His kingdom. + +Sometimes there was more light upon the dark scene, sometimes less, for +giant rays of the northern light stalked the sky, passing from it, +coming again, giving light faintly. + +Trenholme felt an uncontrollable excitement come over him. His mind was +carried out of himself, not so much to the poor man who was praying, as +to the Divine Man to whom the supplication was addressed; for the voice +of prayer spoke directly from the heart of the speaker to One who he +evidently felt was his friend. The conviction of this other man that he +knew to whom he was speaking caught hold of Alec Trenholme's mind with +mastering force; he had no conviction of his own; he was not at all +sure, as men count certainty, whether there was, or was not, any ear but +his own listening to the other's words; but he did not notice his own +belief or unbelief in the matter, any more than he noticed the air +between him and the stars. The colourlessness of his own mind took on +for the time the colour of the other's. + +And the burden of the prayer was this: Our Father, thy kingdom come. +Even so, come, Lord Jesus. + +The hardihood of the prayer was astonishing; all tender arguments of +love were used, all reasonable arguments as of friend with friend and +man with man, and its lengthened pathos was such that Trenholme felt +his heart torn for pity within him. + +"Look here!" he said at last. (He had been listening he knew not how +long, but the planets in the sky above had moved westward. He took hold +of the old man.) "Look here! He won't come so that you can see Him; but +He's here just the same, you know." + +The only result was that the old man ceased speaking aloud, and +continued as if in silent prayer. + +It seemed irreverent to interrupt him. Trenholme stood again irresolute, +but he knew that for himself at least it was madness to stand longer +without exercise in the keen night. + +"Come, Lord Jesus!" cried the old man again in loud anguish. "Come. The +world is needing only Thee. We are so wicked, so foolish, so weak--we +need Thee. Come!" + +Whether or not his companion had the full use of eyes and ears, +Trenholme was emboldened by the memory of the help he had received on +his fall to believe that he could make himself heard and understood. He +shouted as if to one deaf: "The Lord is here. He is with you now, only +you can't see Him. You needn't stay here. I don't know who you are, but +come into my place and get warmed and fed." + +"How do you know He is here?" asked the old man, shaking his head +slowly. + +"Everybody knows that." + +"I can't hear." + +"Everybody knows," shouted Trenholme. + +"How do you know? What do you know?" asked the other, shaking his head +sorrowfully. + +Trenholme would have given much to comfort him. He tried to drag him by +main force in the direction of the house. The old man yielded himself a +few steps, then drew back, asking, + +"Why do you say He is here?" + +"Because" (Trenholme called out his words in the same high key) "before +He died, and after, He said He would always be with His servants. Don't +you believe what He said?" + +Again the old man yielded a few paces, evidently listening and hearing +with difficulty, perhaps indeed only hearing one or two words that +attracted him. + +"Did the Lord say it to _you_?" he asked eagerly. + +"No." + +There was blank disappointment shown instantly. They had come to a +standstill again. + +"Do you know him?" The strong old face was peering eagerly into his, as +if it had not been dark. "Have you heard his voice?" + +"I don't know," answered Trenholme, half angrily. + +Without another word the old man shook him off, and turned once more to +the starry sky above. + +"Lord Jesus!" he prayed, "this man has never heard thy voice. They who +have heard Thee know thy voice--they know, O Lord, they know." He +retraced all the steps he had taken with Trenholme and continued in +prayer. + +After that, although Trenholme besought and commanded, and tried to draw +him both by gentleness and force, he obtained no further notice. It was +not that he was repulsed, but that he met with absolute neglect. The old +man was rock-like in his physical strength. + +Trenholme looked round about, but there was certainly no help to be +obtained. On the one side he saw the birch wood indistinctly; the white +trunks half vanished from sight against the white ground, but the brush +of upper branches hung like the mirage of a forest between heaven and +earth. All round was the wild region of snow. From his own small house +the lamp which he had left on the table shot out a long bright ray +through a chink in the frostwork on the window. It occurred to him that +when he had fetched down the lamp it was probably this ray, sudden and +unexpected in such a place, that had attracted his strange visitor to +his house. Had his poor dazed brain accepted it as some sign of the +glorious appearing for which he waited? + +Trenholme looked again at his companion. It mattered nothing to him who +or what he was; he would have done much to still that pleading voice and +pacify him, but since he could not do this, he would go for a little +while out of sight and hearing. He was fast growing numb with the fierce +cold. He would come back and renew his care, but just now he would go +home. He walked fast, and gained his own door with blood that ran less +chill. + +He heaped his stove with fresh logs, and set on food to warm, in the +hope that the stranger might eventually partake of it, and then, opening +the stove door to get the full benefit of the blaze, he sat down for a +little while to warm himself. He looked at his watch, as it lay on the +table, with that glance of interest which we cast at a familiar thing +which has lain in the same place while our minds have undergone +commotion and change. Midnight had passed since he went out, and it was +now nearly two o'clock. + +Whether it was that the man with whom he had been, possessed that power, +which great actors involuntarily possess, of imposing their own moods on +others, or whether it was that, coming into such strange companionship +after his long loneliness, his sympathies were the more easily awakened, +Trenholme was suffering from a misery of pity; and in pity for another +there weighed a self-pity which was quite new to him. To have seen the +stalwart old man, whose human needs were all so evident to Trenholme's +eyes, but to his own so evidently summed up in that one need which was +the theme of the prayer he was offering in obstinate agony, was an +experience which for the time entirely robbed him of the power of seeing +the elements of life in that proportion to which his mind's eye had +grown accustomed--that is, seeing the things of religion as a shadowy +background for life's important activities. + +The blazing logs through the open stove door cast flickering flamelight +upon the young man, who was restlessly warming himself, shifting his +position constantly, as a man must who tries to warm himself too +hastily. A traveller read in ancient lore, coming suddenly on this cabin +amid its leagues of snow, and looking in to see its light and warmth and +the goodly figure of its occupant, might have been tempted to think that +the place had been raised by some magician's wand, and would vanish +again when the spell was past. And to Alec Trenholme, just then, the +station to which he was so habituated, the body which usually seemed the +larger part of himself, might have been no more than a thought or a +dream, so intent was he upon another sort of reality. He was regardless +of it all, even of the heat that, at the same time, scorched him and +made him shiver. He thought of the words that he--he, Alec +Trenholme--had lifted up his voice to say, waking the echoes of the +snow-muffled silence with proclamation of--He tried not to remember what +he had proclaimed, feeling crushed with a new knowledge of his own +falseness; and when perforce the thought came upon him of the invisible +Actor in the night's drama whose presence, whose action, he had been so +strenuously asserting, he was like a man in pain who does not know what +remedy to try; and his mood was tense, he sought only relief. He essayed +one thought and another to reason away the cloud that was upon him; and +then he tried saying his prayers, which of late had fallen somewhat into +disuse. It was only by way of a try to see if it would do any good; and +he did not give himself much time, for he felt that he must go out again +to try to bring in the old man. + +Before he had put on his fur cap a second time, however, he heard the +whistle of the engine he had been expecting now for nearly twenty-four +hours. It came like a sudden trumpet-sound from the outside world to +call him back to his ordinary thoughts and deeds. For the first moment +he felt impatient at it; the second he was glad, for there would +certainly be some one with it who could aid him in using force, if +necessary, to bring the old man to spend the remainder of the night +within doors. + +Trenholme saw the black and fiery monster come on into his dark and +silent white world. It shook a great plume of flaming smoke above its +snorting head, and by the light of the blazing jewel in its front he saw +that the iron plough it drove before it was casting the snow in misty +fountains to right and left. + +When the engine stopped, Trenholme found that there was a small car with +it, containing about twenty men sent to dig out the drifts where snow +sheds had given way. These were chiefly French Canadians of a rather low +type. The engine-driver was a Frenchman too; but there was a brisk +English-speaking man whose business it was to set the disordered +telegraph system to rights. He came into the station-room to test its +condition at this point of the route. As there was a stove in their car, +only a few of the men straggled in after him. At a larger place the +party might have been tempted to tarry, but here they had no thought of +stopping an unnecessary moment. Trenholme had no time to lose, and yet +he hardly knew how to state his case. He sought the Englishman, who was +at the little telegraph table. The engineer and some others lounged +near. He began by recalling the incident of the dead man's +disappearance. Every one connected with the railway in those parts had +heard that story. + +"And look here!" said he, "as far as one can judge by description, he +has come back again here to-night." All who could understand were +listening to him now. "See here!" he urged addressing the brisk +telegraph man, "I'm afraid he will freeze to death in the snow. He's +quite alive, you know--alive as you are; but I want help to bring him +in." + +The other was attending to his work as well as to Trenholme. "Why can't +he come in?" + +"He won't. I think he's gone out of his mind. He'll die if he's left. +It's a matter of life or death, I tell you. He's too strong for me to +manage alone. Someone must come too." + +The brisk man looked at the engineer, and the French engineer looked at +him. + +"What's he doing out there?" + +"He's just out by the wood." + +It ended in the two men finding snow-shoes and going with Trenholme +across the snow. + +They all three peered through the dimness at the space between them and +the wood, and they saw nothing. They retraced the snow-shoe tracks and +came to the place where the irregular circuit had been made near the end +of the wood. There was no one there. They held up a lantern and flashed +it right and left, they shouted and wandered, searching into the edge of +the wood. The old man was not to be found. + +"I dare say," said the telegraph man to Trenholme, "you'd do well to get +into a place where you don't live quite so much alone. 'T'aint good for +you." + +The whole search did not take more than twenty minutes. The railway-men +went back at a quick pace. Trenholme went with them, insisting only that +they should look at the track of the stranger's snow-shoes, and admit +that it was not his own track. + +The French engineer was sufficiently superstitious to lend a half belief +to the idea that the place was haunted, and that was his reason for +haste. The electrician was only sorry that so much time had been purely +wasted; that was his reason. He was a middle-aged man, spare, quick, and +impatient, but he looked at Alec Trenholme in the light of the engine +lamp, when they came up to it, with some kindly interest. + +"I say," he went on again, "don't you go on staying here alone--a +good-looking fellow like you. You don't look to me like a chap to have +fancies if you weren't mewed up alone." + +As Trenholme saw the car carried from him, saw the faces and forms of +the men who stood at its door disappear in the darkness, and watched the +red light at its back move slowly on, leaving a lengthening road of +black rails behind it, he felt more mortified at the thought of the +telegraph man's compassion than he cared to own, even to himself. + +He went out again, and hunted with a lantern till he found a track +leading far into the wood in the opposite direction from his house. +This, then, was the way the old man had gone. He followed the track for +a mile, but never came within sight or sound of the man who made it. + +At last it joined the railway line, and where the snow was rubbed smooth +he could not trace it. Probably the old man had taken off his snow-shoes +here, and his light moccasins had left no mark that could be seen in the +night. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +For two nights after that Alec Trenholme kept his lamp lit all night, +placing it in his window so that all the light that could struggle +through the frosted panes should cast an inviting ray into the night. He +did this in the hope that the old man might still be wandering in the +neighbourhood; but it was soon ascertained that this was not the case; +the stranger had been seen by no one else in Turrifs Settlement. Though +it was clear, from reports that came, that he was the same who had +visited other villages and been accepted as the missing Cameron, nothing +more was heard of him, and it seemed that he had gone now off the lines +of regular communication--unless, indeed, he had the power of appearing +and disappearing at will, which was the popular view of his case. +Turrifs Station had become notorious. Trenholme received jeers and gibes +even by telegraph from neighbouring stations. He had given account to no +one of the midnight visit, but inventive curiosity had supplied details +of a truly wonderful nature. It was not on this account that he gave up +his situation on the line, but because a new impulse had seized him, and +he had no particular reason for remaining. He waited till a new +caretaker arrived from the headquarters of the railway, and then set +forth from the station the following morning on foot. + +Turrif had been laid up with some complaint for a week or two, and Alec +went to say good-bye to him. The roads had been opened up again. He had +his snow-shoes on his back, and some clothes in a small pack. + +Turrif's wife opened the door, and Trenholme disburdened himself and +went and sat by the bed. The little children were about, as usual, in +blue gowns; he had made friends in the house since his first supper +there, so they stood near now, and laughed at him a great deal without +being afraid. In the long large wooden room, the mother and eldest girl +pursued the housework of the morning tranquilly. Turrif lay upon a bed +in one corner. The baby's cradle, a brown box on rockers, was close to +the bed, and when the child stirred the father put out his hand and +rocked it. The child's head was quite covered with the clothes, so that +Trenholme wondered how it could breathe. He sat by the foot of the bed, +and Turrif talked to him in his slow English. + +"You are wise to go--a young man and genteel-man like you." + +"I know you think I was a fool to take the place, but a man might as +well earn his bread-and-butter while he is looking round the country." + +"You have looked round at this bit of country for two months"--with a +shrug of the shoulders. "I should have sought your bright eyes could see +all what sere is to see in two days." + +"You'll think me a greater fool when you know where I am going." + +"I hope" (Turrif spoke with a shade of greater gravity on his placid +face)--"I hope sat you are going to some city where sere is money to be +made, and where sere is ladies and other genteel-men like you." + +"I knew you would think me mad. I'm going to Bates's clearing to cut +down his trees." + +"Why?" The word came with a certain authority. + +"You would almost be justified in writing to the authorities to lock me +up in an asylum, wouldn't you? But just consider what an awful condition +of loneliness that poor wretch must be in by this time. You think I've +been more alone than's good for me; think of him, shut up with an old +woman in her dotage. He was awfully cut up about this affair of old +Cameron and the girl, and he is losing all his winter's lumbering for +want of a man. Now, there's a fix, if you will, where I say a man is to +be pitied." + +"Yes," said Turrif, gravely, "it is sad; but sat is _hees_ trouble." + +"Look here: he's not thirty miles away, and you and I know that if he +isn't fit to cut his throat by this time it isn't for want of trouble to +make him, and you say that that state of things ought to be only his own +affair?" + +"Eh?" + +"Well, I say that you and I, or at least I, have something to do with +it. You know very well I might go round here for miles, and offer a +hundred pounds, and I couldn't get a single man to go and work for +Bates; they're all scared. Well, if they're scared of a ghost, let them +stay away; but _I'm_ not frightened, and I suppose I could learn to chop +down trees as well as any of them. He's offered good wages; I can take +his wages and do his work, and save him from turning into a blethering +idiot." + +Probably, in his heat to argue, he had spoken too quickly for the +Frenchman to take in all his words. That his drift was understood and +pondered on was evident from the slow answer. + +"It would be good for Monsieur Bates, but poor for you." + +"I'm not going to turn my back on this country and leave the fellow in +that pickle. I should feel as if his blood were on my head." + +"Since?" + +"How since?" + +"Since what day did you have his care on you? Last time you came you did +not mean sen to help him." It was true, but so strongly did Trenholme +see his point that he had not realised how new was the present aspect of +the case to him. + +"Well," said he, meaning that this was not a matter of importance. + +"But why?" said Turrif again. + +"Oh, I don't know." Trenholme looked down at his moccasined feet. "I +thought" (he gave a laugh as if he were ashamed) "I'd turn over a new +leaf this year, and do something that's more worth doing. I was well +enough off here so far as looking out for myself was concerned." + +Turrif looked at him with kind and serious disapproval. + +"And when will you begin to live se life of a _man_?" + +"How do you mean--'a man'?" + +"When will you make money and get married?" + +"Do you think time is all wasted when one isn't making money and getting +married?" + +"For a _boy_, no; for a _man_, yes." + +Trenholme rose. "Good-bye, and thank you for all your hospitality," said +he. "I'll come back in spring and tell you what I'm going to do next." + +He was moving out, when he looked again at the little shrine in the +middle of the wall, the picture of the Virgin, and, below, the little +altar shelf, with its hideous paper roses. He looked back as it caught +his eye, arrested, surprised, by a difference of feeling in him towards +it. + +Noticing the direction of Trenholme's glance, the Frenchman crossed +himself. + +It was a day of such glory as is only seen amid Northern snowfields. +Alec Trenholme looked up into the sky, and the blue of other skies that +he remembered faded beside it, as the blue of violets fades beside the +blue of gentian flowers. There was no cloud, no hint of vapour; the +sky, as one looked for it, was not there, but it was as if the sight +leaped through the sunlit ether, so clear it was, and saw the dark blue +gulfs of space that were beyond the reach of the sun's lighting. The +earth was not beyond the reach of the sunlight, and in all that wide +white land, in mile after mile of fields, of softened hillock and buried +hollow, there was not a frozen crystal that did not thrill to its centre +with the sunlight and throw it back in a soft glow of myriad rays. + +Trenholme retraced his steps on the road from Turrif's door to a point +nearer his old railway-station; then he put on his snow-shoes and set +out for the gap in the hills that led to the Bates and Cameron clearing. +As he mounted the soft snow that was heaped by the roadside and struck +out across the fields, his heart bounded with a sense of power and +freedom, such as a man might have who found means to walk upon the +ocean. Little need had he of map or guide to mark the turning or +crossing of his road; the gap in the hills was clear to his eyes fifteen +miles away; the world was white, and he strode across it. When the earth +is made up of pearl-dust and sunshine, and the air is pure as the air of +heaven, the heart of man loses all sense of effort, and action is as +spontaneous as breath itself. Trenholme was half-way to the hills before +he felt that he had begun his day's journey. + +When he got past the unbroken snow of the farm lands and the blueberry +flats, the white surface was broken by the tops of brushwood. He did not +take the line of the straight corduroy road; it was more free and +exciting to make a meandering track wherever the snow lay sheer over a +chain of frozen pools that intersected the thickets. There was no +perceptible heat in the rays the sun poured down, but the light was so +great that where the delicate skeletons of the young trees were massed +together it was a relief to let the eye rest upon them. + +That same element of pleasure, relief, was found also in the restful +deadness of the wooded sides of the hills when he came near them. Grey +there was of deciduous trees in the basin of the river, and dull green +of spruce firs that grew up elsewhere. Intense light has the effect of +lack of light, taking colour from the landscape. Even the green of the +fir trees, as they stood in full light on the hill summits, was faded in +comparison with the blue beyond. + +This was while he was in the open plain; but when he walked into the +forest, passing into the gap in the hills, all was changed. The snow, +lightly shadowed by the branches overhead, was more quiet to the sight, +and where his path lay near fir trees, the snow, where fell their heavy +shade, looked so dead and cold and grey that it recalled thoughts of +night-time, or of storm, or of other gloomy things; and this thought of +gloom, which the dense shadow brought, had fascination, because it was +such a wondrous contrast to the rest of the happy valley, in which the +sunbeams, now aslant, were giving a golden tinge to the icy facets of +crags, to high-perched circling drifts, to the basin of unbroken snow, +to the brown of maple trunks, and to the rich verdure of the very firs +which cast the shadow. + +It was after four o'clock in the afternoon when he stopped his steady +tramp, arrested by the sight of the first living things he had seen--a +flock of birds upon a wild vine that, half snow-covered, hung out the +remnant of its frozen berries in a cleft of the hill. The birds did not +fly at his approach, and, going nearer and nearer on the silent snow, he +at last stopped, taking in greedily the sight of their pretty, +fluttering, life. They were rather large birds, large as the missel +thrush; they had thick curved beaks and were somewhat heavy in form; but +the plumage of the males was like the rose-tint of dawn or evening when +it falls lightly upon some grey cloud. They uttered no note, but, busy +with their feast, fluttered and hopped with soft sound of wings. + +In lieu of gun or net, Trenholme broke a branch from a tree beside him, +and climbed nearer to the birds in order to strike one down if +possible. To his surprise, as he advanced deftly with the weapon, the +little creatures only looked at him with bright-eyed interest, and made +no attempt to save themselves. The conviction forced itself upon him +with a certain awe that these birds had never seen a man before. His arm +dropped beside him; something of that feeling which comes to the +explorer when he thinks that he sets his foot where man has never trod +came to him now as he leaned against the snow-bank. The birds, it is +true, had fluttered beyond his arm's length, but they had no thought of +leaving their food. Twice his arm twitched with involuntary impulse to +raise the stick and strike the nearest bird, and twice the impulse +failed him, till he dropped the stick. + +The slight crust which usually forms on snow-banks had broken with the +weight of his figure as he leaned against it, and he lay full length +against the soft slope, enjoying rest upon so downy a couch, until the +birds forgot him, and then he put out his hand and grasped the nearest, +hardly more to its own surprise than to his. The bird feigned dead, as +frightened birds will, and when he was cheated into thinking it dead, it +got away, and it was only by a very quick movement that he caught it +again. He put it in a hanging pocket of his coat, and waited till he +could catch a companion to fill the opposite pocket. + +Thus weighted, he continued his journey. It gave him the cheerful +feeling that a boy has when choice marbles are in his pocket. Neither +birds nor marbles under such circumstances have absolute use, but then +there is always the pleasant time ahead when it will be suitable to take +them out and look at them. The man did not finger his birds as a boy +might have done his marbles, but he did not forget them, and every now +and then he lifted the flaps of the, baggy pockets to refill them with +air. + +He was tramping fast now down the trough of the little valley, under +trees that, though leafless, were thick enough to shut out the +surrounding landscape. The pencils of the evening sunlight, it is true, +found their way all over the rounded snow-ground, but the sunset was +hidden by the branches about him, and nothing but the snow and the tree +trunks was forced upon his eye, except now and then a bit of blue seen +through the branches--a blue that had lost much depth of colour with the +decline of day, and come nearer earth--a pale cold blue that showed +exquisite tenderness of contrast as seen through the dove-coloured grey +of maple boughs. + +Where the valley dipped under water and the lake in the midst of the +hills had its shore, Trenholme came out from under the trees. The sun +had set. The plain of the ice and the snowclad hills looked blue with +cold--unutterably cold, and dead as lightless snow looks when the eye +has grown accustomed to see it animated with light. He could not see +where, beneath the snow, the land ended and the ice began; but it +mattered little. He walked out on the white plain scanning the +south-eastern hill-slope for the house toward which he intended to bend +his steps. He was well out on the lake before he saw far enough round +the first cliff to come in sight of the log house and its clearing, and +no sooner did he see it than he heard his approach, although he was yet +so far away, heralded by the barking of a dog. Before he had gone much +farther a man came forth with a dog to meet him. + +The two men had seen one another before, in the days when the +neighbourhood had turned out in the fruitless search for Cameron's +daughter and for Cameron himself. At that time a fevered eye and haggard +face had been the signs that Bates was taking his misfortune to heart; +now Trenholme looked, half expecting to see the same tokens developed by +solitude into some demonstration of manner; but this was not the case. +His flesh had certainly wasted, and his eye had the excitement of +expectation in it as he met his visitor; but the man was the same man +still, with the stiff, unexpressive manner which was the expression of +his pride. + +Bates spoke of the weather, of the news Trenholme brought from Turrifs +Settlement, of the railway--all briefly, and without warmth of interest; +then he asked why Trenholme had come. + +"You haven't been able to get any one yet to fell your trees for you?" + +Bates replied in the negative. + +"They think the place is dangerous," said the other, as if giving +information, although he knew perfectly that Bates was aware of this. He +had grown a little diffident in stating why he had come. + +"Fools they are!" said Bates, ill-temperedly. + +Trenholme said that he was willing to do the work Bates had wanted a man +for, at the same wages. + +"It's rough work for a gentlemany young man like you." + +Trenholme's face twitched with a peculiar smile. "I can handle an axe. I +can learn to fell trees." + +"I mean, the living is rough, and all that; and of course" (this was +added with suspicious caution) "it wouldn't be worth my while to pay the +same wages to an inexperienced hand." + +Trenholme laughed. This reception was slightly different from what he +had anticipated. He remarked that he might be taken a week on trial, and +to this Bates agreed, not without some further hesitation. Trenholme +inquired after the health of the old aunt of whom he had heard. + +"In bodily health," said Bates, "she is well. You may perhaps have heard +that in mind she has failed somewhat." + +The man's reserve was his dignity, and it produced its result, although +obvious dignity of appearance and manner was entirely lacking to him. + +The toothless, childish old man woman Trenholme encountered when he +entered the house struck him as an odd exaggeration of the report he had +just received. He did not feel at home when he sat down to eat the food +Bates set before him; he perceived that it was chiefly because in a new +country hospitality is considered indispensable to an easy conscience +that he had received any show of welcome. + +Yet the lank brown hand that set his mug beside him shook so that some +tea was spilt. Bates was in as dire need of the man he received so +unwillingly as ever man was in need of his fellow-man. It is when the +fetter of solitude has begun to eat into a man's flesh that he begins to +proclaim his indifference to it, and the human mind is never in such +need of companionship as when it shuns companions. + +The two spent most of the evening endeavouring to restore to liveliness +the birds that Trenholme had taken from his pockets, and in discussing +them. Bates produced a very old copy of a Halifax newspaper which +contained a sonnet to this bird, in which the local poet addressed it as + + "The Sunset-tinted grosbeak of the north" + +Trenholme marvelled at his resources. Such newspapers as he stored up +were kept under the cushion of the old aunt's armchair. + +Bates brought out some frozen cranberries for the birds. They made a +rough coop and settled them in it outside, in lee of one of the sheds. +It is extraordinary how much time and trouble people will expend on such +small matters if they just take it into their heads to do it. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +There was no very valuable timber on Bates's land. The romance of the +lumber trade had already passed from this part of the country, but the +farmers still spent their winters in getting out spruce logs, which were +sold at the nearest saw-mills. Bates and Cameron had possessed +themselves of a large portion of the hill on which they had settled, +with a view to making money by the trees in this way--money that was +necessary to the household, frugal as it was, for, so far, all their +gains had been spent in necessary improvements. Theirs had been a +far-seeing policy that would in the end have brought prosperity, had the +years of uninterrupted toil on which they calculated been realised. + +It was not until the next day that Trenholme fully understood how +helpless the poor Scotchman really was in his present circumstances. In +the early morning there was the live-stock to attend to, which took him +the more time because he was not in strong health; and when that was +done it seemed that there was much ado in the house before the old woman +would sit down peacefully for the day. He apologised to Trenholme for +his housework by explaining that she was restless and uneasy all day +unless the place was somewhat as she had been accustomed to see it; he +drudged to appease her, and when at last he could follow to the bush, +whither he had sent Trenholme, it transpired that he dared not leave her +more than an hour or two alone, for fear she should do herself a +mischief with the fire. In the bush it was obvious how pitifully small +was the amount of work accomplished. Many trees had been felled before +Cameron's death; but they still had to be lopped and squared, cut into +twelve-foot lengths, dragged by an ox to the log-slide, and passed down +on to the ice of the lake. Part of the work required two labourers; only +a small part of what could be done single-handed had been accomplished; +and Trenholme strongly suspected that moonlight nights had been given to +this, while the old woman slept. + +It is well known that no line can be drawn between labour and play; it +is quite as much fun making an ox pull a log down a woodland path as +playing at polo, if one will only admit it, especially when novelty acts +as playmate. Most healthy men find this fascination hidden in labour, +provided it only be undertaken at their own bidding, although few have +the grace to find it when necessity compels to the task. Alec Trenholme +found the new form of labour to which he had bidden himself toilsome and +delightful; like a true son of Adam, he was more conscious of his toil +than of his delight--still both were there; there was physical +inspiration in the light of the snow, the keen still air, and the sweet +smell of the lumber. So he grew more expert, and the days went past, +hardly distinguished from one another, so entire was the unconsciousness +of the slumber between them. + +He had not come without some sensation of romance in his +knight-errantry. Bates was the centre, the kernel as it were, of a wild +story that was not yet explained. Turrif had disbelieved the details +Saul had given of Bates's cruelty to Cameron's daughter, and Trenholme +had accepted Turrif's judgment; but in the popular judgment, if +Cameron's rising was not a sufficient proof of Bates's guilt, the +undoubted disappearance of the daughter was. Whatever had been his +fault, rough justice and superstitious fear had imposed on Bates a term +of solitary confinement and penal servitude which so far he had accepted +without explanation or complaint. He still expressed no satisfaction at +Trenholme's arrival that would have been a comment on his own hard case +and a confession of his need. Yet, on the whole, Trenholme's interest in +him would have been heightened rather than decreased by a nearer view of +his monotonous life and his dry reserve, had it not been that the man +was to the last degree contentious and difficult to deal with. + +Taking for granted that Trenholme was of gentle extraction, he treated +him with the generosity of pride in the matter of rations; but he +assumed airs of a testy authority which were in exact proportion to his +own feeling of physical and social inferiority. Seen truly, there was a +pathos in this, for it was a weak man's way of trying to be manful but +his new labourer, could not be expected to see it in that light. Then, +too, on all impersonal subjects of conversation which arose, it was the +nature of Bates to contradict and argue; whereas Trenholme, who had +little capacity for reasonable argument, usually dealt with +contradiction as a pot of gunpowder deals with an intruding spark. As +regarded the personal subject of his own misfortune--a subject on which +Trenholme felt he had a certain right to receive confidence--Bates's +demeanour was like an iron mask. + +Bates scorned the idea, which Turrif had always held, that Cameron had +never really died; he vowed, as before, that the box he had sent in +Saul's cart had contained nothing but a dead body; he would hear no +description of the old man who, it would seem, had usurped Cameron's +name; he repeated stolidly that Saul had put his charge into some +shallow grave in the forest, and hoaxed Trenholme, with the help of an +accomplice; and he did not scruple to hint that if Trenholme had not +been a coward he would have seized the culprit, and so obviated further +mystery and after difficulties. There was enough truth in this view of +the case to make it very insulting to Trenholme. But Bates did not seem +to cherish anger for that part of his trouble that had been caused by +this defect; rather he showed an annoying indifference to the whole +affair. He had done what he could to bury his late partner decently; he +neither expressed nor appeared to experience further emotion concerning +his fate. + +When a man has set himself to anything, he generally sticks to it, for a +time at least; this seemed to be the largest reason that Trenholme had +the first four weeks for remaining where he was. At any rate, he did +remain; and from these unpromising materials, circumstance, as is often +the case, beat, out a rough sort of friendship between the two men. The +fact that Bates was a partial wreck, that the man's nerve and strength +in him were to some extent gone, bred in Trenholme the gallantry of the +strong toward the weak--a gallantry which was kept from rearing into +self-conscious virtue by the superiority of Bates's reasoning powers, +which always gave him a certain amount of real authority. Slowly they +began to be more confidential. + +"It's no place for a young man like you to be here," Bates observed with +disfavour. + +It was Sunday. The two were sitting in front of the house in the +sunshine, not because the sun was warm, but because it was bright; +dressed, as they were, in many plies of clothes, they did not feel the +cold, in flat, irregular shape the white lake lay beneath their hill. On +the opposite heights the spruce-trees stood up clear and green, as +perfect often in shape as yews that are cut into old-fashioned cones. + +"I was told that about the last place I was in, and the place before +too," Trenholme laughed. He did not seem to take his own words much to +heart. + +"Well, the station certainly wasn't much of a business," assented Bates; +"and, if it's not rude to ask, where were ye before?" + +"Before that--why, I was just going to follow my own trade in a place +where there was a splendid opening for me; but my own brother put a stop +to that. He said it was no fit position for a young man like me. My +brother's a fine fellow," the young man sneered, but not bitterly. + +"He ought to be," said Bates, surveying the sample of the family before +him rather with a glance of just criticism than of admiration. "What's +your calling, then?" + +Alec pulled his mitts out of his pocket and slapped his moccasins with +them to strike off the melting snow. "What do you think it is, now?" + +Bates eyed him with some interest in the challenge. "I don't know," he +said at last. "Why didn't your brother want ye to do it?" + +"'Twasn't grand enough. I came out naturally thinking I'd set up near my +brother; but, well, I found he'd grown a very fine gentleman--all honour +to him for it! He's a good fellow." There was no sneer just now. + +Bates sat subjecting all he knew of Alec to a process of consideration. +The result was not a guess; it was not in him to hazard anything, even a +guess. + +"What does your brother do?" + +"Clergyman, and he has a school." + +"Where?" + +"Chellaston, on the Grand Trunk." + +"Never heard of it. Is it a growing place?" + +"It's thriving along now. It was just right for my business." + +"Did the clergyman think your business was wrong?" + +The young man laughed as a man laughs who knows the answer to an amusing +riddle and sees his neighbour's mental floundering. "He admits that it's +an honest and respectable line of life." + +"Did ye give in, then?" + +"I took a year to think over it. I'm doing that now." + +"Thinking?" + +"Yes." + +"I've not observed ye spending much time in meditation." + +The young man looked off across the basin of the frozen lake. What is +more changeful than the blue of the sky? Today the far firmament looked +opaque, an even, light blue, as if it were made of painted china. The +blue of Alec Trenholme's eyes was very much like the sky; sometimes it +was deep and dark, sometimes it was a shadowy grey, sometimes it was +hard and metallic. A woman having to deal with him would probably have +imagined that something of his inward mood was to be read in these +changes; but, indeed, they were owing solely to those causes which +change the face of the sky--degrees of light and the position of that +light. As for Bates, he did not even know that his companion had blue +eyes; he only knew in a general way that he was a strong, good-looking +fellow, whose figure, even under the bulgy shapes of multiplied +garments, managed to give suggestion of that indefinite thing we call +style. He himself felt rather thinner, weaker, more rusty in knowledge +of the world, more shapeless as to apparel, than he would have done had +he sat alone. + +After a minute or two he said, "What's your trade?" + +Trenholme, sitting there in the clear light, would have blushed as he +answered had his face not been too much weathered to admit of change of +colour. He went through that momentary change of feeling that we connect +with blushes. He had been perfectly conscious that this question was +coming, and perfectly conscious, too, that when he answered it he would +fall in Bates's estimation, that his prestige would be gone. He thought +he did not mind it, but he did. + +"Butcher," he said. + +"Ye're not in earnest?" said Bates, with animosity. + +"Upon my word." + +"Ye don't look like that"--with disappointment. + +"Look like what?"--fiercely--"What would you have me look like? My +father was as good-looking a man as you'd see in the three kingdoms, and +as good a butcher, too. He got rich, had three shops, and he sent us +boys to the best school he could find. He'd have set me up in any +business I liked; if I chose his it was because--I did choose it." + +He was annoyed at Bates's open regret, just as we are constantly more +annoyed at fresh evidence of a spirit we know to be in a man than with +the demonstration of some unexpected fault, because we realise the trait +we have fathomed and see how poor it is. + +"How did your brother come to be a minister?" + +"He's a _clergyman_ of the Church of England"--with loftiness. + +"Well, that's more of a thing than a minister; how did he come by it?" + +"He was clever, and father was able to send him to Oxford. He was a good +deal older than I was. I suppose he took to the Church because he +thought it his duty." + +"And now that he's out here he wants to sink the shop?" + +"Oh, as to that"--coldly--"when he was quite young, in England, he got +in with swells. He's tremendously clever. There were men in England that +thought no end of him." + +"Did he lie low about the shop there?" + +"I don't know"--shortly--"I was at school then." + +Bates, perceiving that his questions were considered vastly offensive, +desisted, but not with that respectfulness of mind that he would have +had had Alec's father been a clergyman as well as his brother. Bates's +feeling in this matter was what it was by inheritance, exactly as was +the shape of his nose or the length of his limbs; it required no +exercise of thought on his part to relegate Alec Trenholme to a place of +less consequence. + +Trenholme assuaged his own ill-temper by going to take out his pink and +grey grosbeaks and give them exercise. He was debating in his mind +whether they were suffering from confinement or not--a question which +the deportment of the birds never enabled him to solve completely--when +Bates wandered round beside him again, and betrayed that his mind was +still upon the subject of their conversation. + +"Ye know," he began, with the deliberate interest of a Scotchman in an +argument, "I've been thinking on it, and I'm thinking your brother's in +the right of it." + +"You do!" The words had thunderous suggestion of rising wrath. + +"Well," said the other again, "ye're hard to please; ye were vexed a +while since because ye thought I was criticising him for lying low." + +The answer to this consisted in threats thrown out at any man who took +upon himself to criticise his brother. + +"And now, when I tell ye I'm thinking he's in the right of it, ye're +vexed again. Now, I'll tell ye: ye don't like to think the Rev. Mr. +Trenholme's in the right, for that puts ye in the wrong; but ye don't +like me to think he's in the wrong, because he's your brother. Well, +it's natural! but just let us discuss the matter. Now, ye'll agree with +me it's a man's duty to rise in the world if he can." + +Upon which he was told, in a paraphrase, to mind his own business. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +It was a delightful proof of the blessed elasticity of inconsistency in +human lives, a proof also that there was in these two men more of good +than of evil, that that same evening, when the lamp was lit, they +discussed the problem that had been mooted in the afternoon with a fair +amount of good temper. As they sat elbowing the deal table, sheets of +old newspapers under their inspection, Trenholme told his story more +soberly. He told it roughly, emphasising detail, slighting important +matter, as men tell stories who see them too near to get the just +proportion; but out of his words Bates had wit to glean the truth. It +seemed that his father had been a warmhearted man, with something +superior in his mental qualities and acquirements. Having made a +moderate fortune, he had liberally educated his sons. There is nothing +in which families differ more by nature than in the qualities of heart +which bind them together or easily release them from the bonds of +kinship. The members of this small family had that in them which held +them together in spite of the pulling of circumstance; for although the +elder son had come on the stage of manhood ten years before the younger, +although he had had talents that advanced him among scholarly men, and +had been quickly taken from his first curacy to fill a superior position +in a colony, he had never abated an affectionate correspondence with +Alec, and had remained the hero of his young brother's imagination. This +younger son, not having the same literary tastes, and having possibly a +softer heart, gratified his father by going into business with him; but +at that good man's death he had had sufficient enterprise, sufficient +distaste, possibly, for his English position, to sell the business that +was left in his hands, and affection drew him, as a loadstone a magnet, +to his brother's neighbourhood. He brought with him securities of the +small fortune they were to divide between them, and expected nothing but +happiness in the meeting and prosperity in his future career. +Unfortunately, a cause of dispute between the two brothers arose +instantly on Alec's arrival: there was an exceptionally good opening in +Chellaston for one of Alec's calling; the brothers took different views +concerning that calling; they had quarrelled with all the fire of warm +natures, and were parted almost as soon as met. + +"And did ye think it would be pleasing to your brother to have a +tradesman of the same name and blood as himself in the same place?" +asked Bates with lack of toleration in his tone. + +"That's all very fine!"--scornfully. "You know as well as I do that my +lord and my gentleman come out to this country to do what farm-hands and +cattle-men would hardly be paid to do at home--" + +"When they've ruined themselves first, but not till then," Bates put in. + +"And besides, old Robert sets up to be a saint. I didn't suppose he'd +look upon things in the _vulgar_ way." This reflection was cast on Bates +as one of a class. "Was I likely to suppose he'd think that to kick +one's heels on an office stool was finer than honest labour, or that my +particular kind of labour had something more objectionable about it than +any other? In old times it was the most honourable office there was. +Look at the priests of the Old Testament! Read Homer!" + +"I don't know that I'm understanding ye about Homer." + +"Why, hear him tell the way the animals were cut up, and the number of +them--yards and yards of it." + +"But in the Bible the animals were used for sacrifice; that's very +different." Bates said this, but felt that a point had been scored +against him in the poetry of Homer; the Old Testament was primeval, but +Homer, in spite of ancient date, seemed to bring with him the authority +of modern culture. + +"If they were, the people feasted upon them all the same, and the +office of preparing them was the most honourable. I'm not claiming to be +a priest (I leave that to my respected brother); I claim my right in a +new country, where Adam has to delve again, to be a butcher and a +gentleman." All his words were hot and hasty. + +"But ye see," said Bates, "in the towns here, things are beginning to +regulate themselves much in the shape they take in the old country." + +"My brother cares more what people think than I do." + +"And a verra good thing too; for with the majority there is wisdom," put +in Bates, keen and contentious. + +"You think so, do you?"--with sarcasm. + +"Ye must remember ye're young yet; your brother has seen more of the +world--" + +Now Alec Trenholme had had no intention of telling what, to his mind, +was the worst of his brother's conduct, but here he slapped the table +and burst out angrily: + +"And I tell you he believes as I do, but he hasn't pluck to act up to +it. He's not even told one of his fine friends what his brother does; he +says it's for the sake of his school. He's living a lie for his own +pride. He's got himself made master of a college, fine as a fiddle, and +he cares more about that than about his brother. With all his prayers +and his sermons in church every Sunday, he'd let me go to the dogs +rather than live out the truth. He thinks I've gone to the devil now, +because I left him in a rage, and I told him I'd go and learn to spend +my money, and drink, and swear, and gamble as a _gentleman_ should. He +thinks I've done it, and he writes and implores me, by all that's holy, +to forsake evil courses; but never a word like 'Come back and set up +your shop, old fellow, and I'll be your customer.' That's the amount of +his religion." + +"It was a hard choice ye put upon him," said Bates, solemnly. + +"You think it was? Well!" The young man gave a boisterous laugh. + +"For, in the first place, it's not his fault, but your own entirely, if +ye go to the bad." + +"I've not gone to the bad; but if I had, if I'd gone straight there, it +would have been his fault." + +"'Twould just have been your own. There's just one man that's +responsible for your actions, and that's yourself. If your brother was a +compete blackguard, instead of a good man, that's no excuse for you. God +never put any man into this world and said, 'Be good if some other man +is.'" + +"When a man sets up to preach, and then throws away his influence over +his own brother for a little finery opposition, it's more than being a +blackguard. What does a man mean by standing up to preach if he doesn't +mean that he's taking some responsibility for other people?" + +"Well, but it wasn't he that threw away his influence over you; it was +you. He never said 'Don't be influenced any more by me.' If ye thought +he was an angel before then, more fool ye were, for no man is an angel. +What business had you to make all the influence of his godly life +condeetion on his doing right, or what you thought right, on a certain +point of opinion?" + +"He's living a lie, I tell you." + +"I'm not sure but he's right not to have blazoned it. I'm not sure but +I'd have done the same myself." + +"Well, as you just remarked, men are not angels. That you would have +done it doesn't prove anything." + +Next morning Trenholme, whose half-awaked mind had not yet recurred to +the night's dispute stepped out of the house into a white morning fog, +not uncommon in fierce weather when holes for fishing had been made in +the ice of the lake. The air, seemingly as dry as smoke, but keen and +sweet, was almost opaque, like an atmosphere of white porcelain, if such +might be. The sun, like a scarlet ball, was just appearing; it might +have been near, it might have been far; no prospect was seen to mark the +distance. Trenholme was walking round by the white snow path, hardly +discerning the ox-shed to which he was bound, when he suddenly came +upon the dark figure of Bates, who was pitching hay for his Cattle. +Bates let down his fork and stood in his path. + +"For God's sake, Mr. Trenholme," said he, "let your brother know where +you are." + +Trenholme started: Bates's figure stood not unlike some gnarled thorn +that might have appeared to take human shape in the mist. + +"For God's sake, man, write! If ye only knew what it was to feel the +weight of another soul on ye, and one that ye had a caring for! Ye're +easy angered yourself; ye might as easy anger another, almost without +knowing it; and if he or she was to go ye didn't know where, or perhaps +die, be sure ye would blame yourself without heeding their blame." + +Bates's voice was trembling. The solemnity of his mien and the feminine +pronoun he had let slip revealed to Trenholme the direction his thoughts +had taken. + +He went on, holding out an arm, as though by the gesture swearing to his +own transgression: "I counted myself a good man, and I'll not say now +but I did more for"--some name died upon his lips--"than one man in a +hundred would have done; but in my folly I angered her, and when I'd +have given my life ten times over--" + +This, then, was the sorrow that dogged his life. Trenholme knew, without +more ado, that Bates loved the lost girl, that it was her loss that +outweighed all other misfortune. He felt a great compassion: he said +impatiently: + +"There's no use trying to interfere between brothers. You can't see the +thing as I see it. Let's leave it." + +"Ay, leave it," cried the other, voice and limb shaking, "and life is +short, and the time to die is every time, and if some accident is to +sweep us away to-night, who's to tell him that your death, and your soul +too, isn't on his head?" + +"Bother my soul!" said Alec; and yet there was a certain courtesy +expressed in the gentler tone in which he spoke, and what he thought +was, "How much he must have loved her!" + +When the fog had vanished, leaving daylight absolute, this scene of the +morning seemed like a dream, and in the evening, as much from curiosity +to see if he could revive its essence again as from a friendly desire to +relieve the overcharged heart of his comrade, he said: + +"Tell me about her, Bates. What was she like?" + +Bates responded to the question like a man whose heart is beating +against the walls of his silence as a bird beats upon its cage. He spoke +a few words, hardly noticing that he was telling his memories; then the +mask of his self-bound habit was resumed; then again the dignity of his +sorrow found some expression; and still again he would retire into +dumbness, setting the questioner aside slightingly; and when he had +forgotten that he had drawn back within himself some further revealing +would come from him. It was little that he said in all, but language +that has been fused in the furnace of so strong a sorrow and silence has +little of the dross of common speech--the unmeaning, misleading, +unnecessary elements: his veritable memory and thought and feeling were +painted by his meagre tale. + +Was that tale true? John Bates would have thought it a great sin to +deceive himself or another, and yet, such was the power of his love, +blown to white heat by the breath of regret and purified, that when he +spoke of the incidents of Sissy's childhood, of the cleverness she +displayed when he taught her, of her growth until the day in which he +had offended her by speaking of marriage, when he told of her tears, and +prayers, and anger, and of his own despotism, the picture of it all that +arose in Trenholme's imagination was exceedingly different from what +would have been there had he seen the reality. He would not have liked +Cameron's daughter had he seen her, but, seeing her through the medium +of a heart that loved her, all the reverence that is due to womanly +sweetness stirred in him. Cupid may be blind, but to the eyes of +chastened love is given the vision of God. + +When it appeared that Bates had said all that he was going to say, Alec +Trenholme sat pondering the problem of this girl's disappearance with +more mental energy than he had before given to it. Knowing the place +now, he knew that what Bates and Saul had averred was true--that there +were but two ways by which any one could leave it while water was +unfrozen, one by the boat, and the other by striking at random across +the hill to the back of the farm--a route that could only lead either to +one of several isolated farms, or, by a forty-mile tramp round by the +nearest river bridge, to the railway. At no farmhouse had she been seen, +and the journey by the bridge was too long to have been accomplished +before the snow storm must have impeded her. It was in attempting this +journey, Bates was convinced, that she had perished. There was, of +course, another possibility that had been mooted at Turrifs Settlement; +but the testimony of Bates and Saul, agreeing in the main points, had +entirely silenced it. Trenholme, thinking of this now, longed to +question more nearly, yet hardly dared. + +"Do you think she could have gone mad? People sometimes do go stark mad +suddenly. Because, if so, and if you could be mistaken in thinking you +saw her in the house when you went--" + +The Scotchman was looking keenly at him with sharp eyes and haggard +face. "I understand ye," he said, with a sigh of resignation, "the noise +o' the thing has been such that there's no evil men haven't thought of +me, or madness of her. Ye think the living creature ye saw rise from the +coffin was, maybe, the dead man's daughter?" + +"I think it was much too big for a woman." + +"Oh, as to that, she was a good height." Perhaps, with involuntary +thought of what might have been, he drew himself up to his full stature +as he said, "A grand height for a woman; but as to this idea of yours, +I'll not say ye're insulting her by it, though! that's true too; but +I've had the same notion; and now I'll tell ye something. She was not +mad; she took clothes; she left everything in order. Was that the act of +a maniac? and if she wasn't mad, clean out of her wits, would she have +done such a thing as ye're thinking of?" + +"No"--thoughtfully--"I should think not." + +"And, furthermore; if she had wished to do it, where is it she could +have laid him? D'ye think I haven't looked the ground over? There's no +place where she could have buried him, and to take him to the lake was +beyond her strength." There was nothing of the everyday irascibility +about his voice; the patience of a great grief was upon him, as he +argued away the gross suspicion. + +"That settles it." Trenholme said this willingly enough. + +"Yes, it settles it; for if there was a place where the earth was loose +I dug with my own hands down to the very rock, and neither man nor woman +lay under it." + +Trenholme was affected; he again renounced his suspicion. + +"And now I've told ye that," said Bates, "I'll tell ye something else, +for it's right ye should know that when the spring comes it'll not be in +my power to help ye with the logs--not if we should lose the flood and +have to let 'em lie till next year--for when the snow passes, I must be +on the hills seeking her." (He had put a brown, bony hand to shade his +eyes, and from out its shade he looked.) "There were many to help me +seek her alive; I'll take none wi' me when I go to give her burial." + +The other saddened; The weary length and uncertainty of such a search, +and its dismal purpose, came to him. + +"You've no assurance that she hasn't drowned herself in the lake here," +he cried, remonstrating. + +"But I have that; and as ye'll be naturally concerned at me leaving the +logs, I'll tell ye what it is, if ye'll give me your word as an honest +man that ye'll not repeat it at any time or place whatsoever." + +He looked so like a man seeking courage to confess some secret sin that +Trenholme drew back. + +"I'll not _tell_, but--" + +Bates took no heed. "My aunt," he began, "had money laid by; she had ten +English sovereigns she liked to keep by her--women often do. There was +no one but me and Sissy knew where it was; and she took them with her. +By that I know she was making for the railway, and--" His voice grew +unsteady as he brought his hand down; there was a look of far-off vision +in his eyes, as though he saw the thing of which he spoke. "Ay, she's +lying now somewhere on the hills, where she would be beaten down by the +snow before she reached a road." + +Trenholme was thinking of the sadness of it all, forgetting to wonder +even why he had been told not to repeat this last, when he found Bates +was regarding his silence with angry suspicion. + +"It wasn't stealing," he said irritably; "she knew she might have them +if she wanted." It was as though he were giving a shuffling excuse for +some fault of his own and felt its weakness. + +The young man, taken by surprise, said mechanically, "Would Miss Bates +have given them to her?" He had fallen into the habit of referring to +the childish old woman with, all due form, for he saw Bates liked it. + +"Hoots! What are you saying, man? Would ye have had the lassie leave the +burden on my mind that she'd gone out of her father's house penniless? +'Twas the one kindness she did me to take the gold." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +One evening Alec Trenholme sat down to write to his brother. Bates had +urged him to write, and, after a due interval, of his own accord he +wrote. The urging and the writing had a certain relation of cause and +effect, but the writer did not think so. Also, the letter he wrote was +very different from the document of penitence and recantation that Bates +had advised, and now supposed him to be writing. + +He gave a brief account of what he had done before he accepted the post +of station-master at Turrifs Station, and then, + + "I liked it well enough," he wrote, "until one night a queer thing + happened. As evening came on, a man drove up bringing a coffin + to be sent by train to the next village for burial. When I was left + alone with the thing, the man inside got up--he really did, I saw him. + I shut him in and ran to fetch the carter, but couldn't catch him. + When I came back, the man had got out and ran into the wood. + They had lined the box with a white bed-quilt, and we found that + some miles away in the bush the next day, but we never found the + man; and the queer thing is that there were two men and a girl who + seem to have been quite certain he was dead. One of them, a very + intelligent fellow that I am staying with now, thinks the carter must + have played some trick on the way; but I hardly believe that myself, + from the way the carter acted. I think he spoke the truth; he said + he had been alone on the road all day, and had been scared out of his + wits by hearing the man turn in the coffin. He seemed well frightened, + too. Of course, if this is true, the man could not really have + been dead; but I'm not trying to give an explanation; I'm just telling + you what occurred. Well, things went on quietly enough for + another month, and on the last night of the old year the place was + snowed up--tracks, roads, everything--and at midnight an old man + came about who answered to the description I had of the dead man, + clothes and all, for it seems they were burying him in his clothes. + He was rather deaf, and blind I think, though I'm not sure, and he + seemed to be wandering in his mind somehow; but he was a fine, + powerful fellow--reminded me a little of father--and the pathetic + thing about it was that he had got the idea into his head--" + +Here Alec stopped, and, holding the pen idly in his hand, sat lost in +thought. So wistful did he look, so wrapt, that Bates, glancing +furtively at him, thought the letter had raised associations of his home +and childhood, and took himself off to bed, hoping that the letter would +be more brotherly if the writer was left alone. But when Alec put pen to +paper again he only wrote:-- + + "Well, I don't know that it matters what he had got into his head; + it hadn't anything to do with whether he was Cameron (the name of the + man supposed dead) or not. I could not get a word out of him as to who + he was or where he came from. I did all I could to get him to come in + and have food and get warmed; but though I went after him and stood with + him a long while, I didn't succeed. He was as strong as a giant. It was + awfully solemn to see an old man like that wandering bareheaded in the + snow at night, so far from any human being. I was forced to leave him, + for the engine came clearing the track. I got some men to come after him + with me, but he was gone, and we never saw him again. I stayed on there + ten days, trying to hear something of him, and after that I came here to + try my hand at lumbering. The owner of this place here was terribly cut + up about the affair. It was he who started the coffin I told you of, and + he's been left quite alone because this tale frightened men from coming + to work for him in the winter as usual. I have a very comfortable berth + here. I think there must have been something curious--a streak of some + kind--in the dead man's family; his only daughter went off from here in + a rage a few days after his death, and as the snow came at once, she is + supposed to have perished in the drifts on the hills. Our logs have to + be floated down the small river here at the spring flood, and this man, + Bates, is determined to look for the lost girl at the same time. I'll + stay and see him through the spring. Very likely I shall look in on you + in summer." + +Alec Trenholme went to bed not a little sleepy, but satisfied that he +had given a clear account of the greater part of what had befallen him. + +The next day he tramped as far as the railway to post the letter. + +When Principal Trenholme received this letter he was standing in his +library, holding an interview with some of his elder pupils. He had a +pleasant manner with boys; his rule was to make friends with them as +much as possible; and if he was not the darling of their hearts, he was +as dear to them as a pedagogue ever is to a class under his authority. +When he saw Alec's letter, his heart within him leaped with hope and +quailed with fear. It is only a few times during his life that a man +regards a letter in this way, and usually after long suspense on a +subject which looms large in his estimate of things. When he could +disengage himself, he tore it open, and the first question with which +he scanned it concerned Alec only--was he in trouble? had he carried out +his threat of evil-doing? or was it well with him? + +Robert Trenholme was not now merely of the stuff of which men of the +world are made. Could we but know it, a man's mind probably bears to his +religion no very different relation from what his body bears; his creed, +opinions, and sentiments are more nearly allied to what St. Paul calls +"the flesh" than they are to the hidden life of the man, with which God +deals. To the inner spring of Robert Trenholme's life God had access, so +that his creed, and the law of temperance in him, had, not perfection, +but vitality; and the same vitality, now permitted, now refused, by +unseen inlets flowed into all he did and was, and his estimate of things +was changed. He, in subtle selfishness, did much, almost all he could, +to check and interrupt the incoming life, although indeed he prayed, and +often supposed his most ardent desire was, to obtain it. Such is the +average man of faith; such was Robert Trenholme--a better thing, truly, +than a mere man, but not outwardly or inwardly so consistent. + +The great fear he had when he opened this letter was that he had caused +his brother to stumble; the great hope, that, because of his prayers, +Heaven would grant it should not be so; but when, on the first hasty +glance over the pages, he discovered that Alec was well, and was +apparently amusing himself in a harmless way, that fear and hope +instantly glided into the background; he hardly knew that they had both +been strong, so faded did they look in the light of the commonplace +certainty. + +The next question that pressed assumed an air of paramount importance. +He had asked Alec to enter some honourable mercantile profession. He had +pressed this in the first interview, when the hot-tempered young man had +left him in a rage. He had argued the point in subsequent letters; he +had even offered his own share of their inheritance as additional +capital. He felt that he deserved an answer to this offer, and believed +that his happiness depended upon Alec's acceding to the proposed change +of his life-plan. His mind full of this secondary subject, he perused +the sheets of the letter with singular impatience and distaste. Any man +might, in the most favourable circumstances, have been excused for +experiencing impatience at having so wild a tale foisted in brief +confusion upon his credulity; in the mood of his present circumstance +the elder Trenholme refolded the letter, using within himself the +strongest language in his vocabulary. + +Robert Trenholme was not a happy man just now. Since he had last seen +Alec a change had come to him which made this matter of the other's +calling of warmer interest than it had been. Then his early love for +Sophia Rexford had been a memory and a far, half-formed hope; now it had +been roused again to be a true, steady flame, an ever-present influence. +His one desire now was to win her affection. He would not be afraid then +to tell her all that there was to tell of himself, and let her love +decide. He did not feel that he should wrong her in this. At present he +had everything to give, she everything to receive, except the possession +of gentle blood, which would apparently be her only dowry. The girl he +could not once have dared to address was now working servantless in her +father's kitchen; he knew that it was no light drudgery; and he could +offer her a comparatively luxurious home, and a name that had attracted +to itself no small honour. He had a nice appreciation for what is called +position, and the belief that their mutual positions had changed was +very sweet to him. All his mind expanded in this thought, as the nerves +of the opium-eater to the influence of his drug; it soothed him when he +was weary; it consoled him when he was vexed; it had come to him as an +unexpected, unsought good, like a blessing direct from heaven. + +This was as things now were; but if his brother adhered to his purpose +of establishing himself in his business in the same country, that would +make a difference--a difference that it was hard, perhaps, for a +thoughtful man to put into words, but which was still harder to wipe +away by any sophistry of words. Robert Trenholme may have been wise, or +he may have been foolish, but he estimated this difference as great. +Should Alec persist in this thing, it would, in the first place, +endanger the success of his school, or alter his relation to that +school; in the second, it would make him more unworthy in the eyes of +all Sophia's well-born relatives. While he remained in suspense, +therefore, he was too honourable to seek to entangle her affections by +the small arts that are used for such purposes; for if the worst came, +he felt that he would be too proud to ask her to be his wife, or, if +love should overcome pride, and he should still sue for what he loved +better than life, he must do so before he sought her heart--not after; +he must lay his cause before the tribunal of Sophia's wit before she had +let go her heart--a thing that he, being what he was, had not courage to +do. + +He was not "living a lie" (as his brother had said) any more than every +man does who allows his mind to dwell on the truth of what pleases him +more than on disagreeable truth. The fact that he was, by a distant tie +of consanguinity, related to a gentleman of some county position in +England was just as true, and to Trenholme's mind more largely true, +than the fact of his father's occupation. Yet he had never made this a +boast; he had never voluntarily stated the pleasant truth to any one to +whom he had not also told the unpleasant; and where he had kept silence +concerning the latter, he had done so by the advice of good men, and +with excuse concerning his professional influence. Yet, some way, he was +not sufficiently satisfied with all this to have courage to bring it +before Miss Rexford, nor yet was he prepared (and here was his worldly +disadvantage) to sacrifice his conscience to success. He would not ask +his brother to change, except in so far as he could urge that brother's +duty and advantage; he would not say to him, "Do this for my sake"; nor +yet would he say, "Go, then, to the other side of the world"; nor yet, +"You shall be no longer my brother." + +Robert Trenholme was bearing a haunted life. The ghost was fantastic +one, truly--that of a butcher's shop; but it was a very real haunting. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The Rexford family was without a servant. Eliza, the girl they had +brought with them from Quebec, had gone to a situation at the Chellaston +hotel. The proprietor and manager of that large building, having become +lame with rheumatism, had been sorely in need of a lieutenant, or +housekeeper, and had chosen one with that shrewdness which had ever been +his business capital. His choice had fallen on Eliza and she had +accepted the place. + +When Robert Trenholme heard of this arrangement he was concerned, +knowing how difficult servants were to procure. He took occasion to +speak to Miss Rexford on the subject, expressing sympathy with her and +strong censure of Eliza. + +"Indeed I am not sure but that she has done right," said Sophia. + +"You surprise me very much. I thought you made somewhat of a companion +of her." + +"I do; and that is why, after hearing what she has to say about it, I +think she has done right. She has abilities, and this is the only +opening in sight in which she can exercise them." + +"I should think"--sternly--"that these abilities were better +unexercised." + +"That is probably because you haven't the least idea what it is to have +energies and faculties for which you have no scope"--this archly. + +"But I should think the risk of learning pert manners--" + +"That is the way men always argue about women. I tell you there is no +such risk for an energetic, clever girl as to place her where the rust +of unexercised faculties will eat into her soul. It is just because so +many girls have to undergo this risk, and cannot do it safely, that the +world is so full of women that are captious or morbid or silly. Boys +treated in the same way would turn out as badly." + +"But there is scope for all the highest faculties of a woman's nature in +such a household as yours," cried he. + +"Since you say so"--politely--"I am bound to believe it." + +"No, but really--do you mean to say you don't think so?" + +"You have just expressed yourself so positively that I am curious to +know how you came by your knowledge, first, as to Eliza's faculties, and +secondly, as to the scope for them in our house." + +"It is unkind of you to laugh at me when I am only a humble enquirer +after truth." + +"Having expressed yourself thus modestly--" + +"Nay, but I only said what I would have said about any girl in any such +family." + +"And you only said it with that simplicity of certainty which every man +would have felt on the same subject." + +"I cry a truce; I plead for mercy. Let us have out the traits of Eliza's +character separately, and examine the scope in detail." + +"To begin with, she has wonderful foresight; her power to plan the work +of the house so as to get it done as easily as possible often surprises +me. Now, of what use is this faculty in the kingdom of my step-mother, +who always acts on the last impulse, and upsets every one's plans +without even observing them? She has great executive ability, too; but +what use is it when, as soon as she gets interested in the +accomplishment of something, my mother cries, 'Come, Eliza, all work +and no play makes Jack a dull boy; go and romp with the children!' Then, +too, she has plenty of resource; but of what use is that, when the thing +she sees to be best in an emergency is seldom the thing that is done? +The hotel-keeper is more observing than you; he has noticed that Eliza +is no ordinary manager, and offered her high wages." + +"You know, of course, what you are talking about," said Trenholme, +feelingly, for he had no doubt that her sympathy with Eliza had arisen +out of the pains of her own experience; "but in your house there is +surely boundless room for humble, loving service; and how much better +this girl would be if she could set aside her cleverness to perform such +service." He did not add, "as you have done," but there was that in his +voice which implied it. He went on: "I do not yet allow that you have +disproved my statement, for I said that where she was she had scope for +her _highest_ faculties." + +"I suppose it is admitted that the highest faculty of man is worship," +remarked Sophia, suggesting that he was not speaking to the point; "but +that is no reason why a boy with a head for figures should be made a +farmer, or that a young woman with special ability should remain a +maid-of-all-work." + +"And what of the affections--love for children, and for other women +better than herself? A girl who has such privileges as this girl had +with you has a far better chance of doing well than in a public hotel, +even if that were a safe place for her." + +Possibly Sophia thought her companion showed too great sensibility +concerning Eliza's privileges, for she did not take notice of any but +the last part of his sentence. + +"It is a safe place for her; for she is able to take care of herself +anywhere, if she chooses; and if she doesn't choose, no place is safe. +Besides, you know, the place is a boarding-house really, rather than an +hotel." + +"I am not so surprised at the view _you_ take of it, for you will do +more than any one else to supply her place." + +This, Trenholme's feeling prophecy, was quite true. Sophia did do more +of Eliza's work than any one. She spared her younger sisters because she +wanted them to be happy. + +In spite of this, however, Sophia was not so much in need of some one's +sympathy as were those younger girls, who had less work to do. A large +element in happiness is the satisfaction of one's craving for romance. +Now, there are three eras of romance in human life. The first is +childhood, when, even if the mind is not filled with fictitious fairy +tales which clothe nature, life is itself a fairy tale, a journey +through an unexplored region, an enterprise full of effort and wonder, +big with hope, an endless expectation, to which trivial realisations +seem large. It was in this era that the younger Rexford children, up to +Winifred, still lived; they built snow-men, half-expecting, when they +finished them in the gloaming, that the thing of their creation would +turn and pursue them; they learned to guide toboggans with a trailing +toe, and half dreamed that their steeds were alive when they felt them +bound and strain, so perfectly did they respond to the rider's will. +Sophia, again, had reached the third epoch of romance, when, at a +certain age, people make the discovery of the wondrous loveliness in the +face of the Lady Duty, and, putting a hand in hers, go onward, thinking +nothing hard because of her beauty. But it is admitted by all that there +is often a stage between these two, when all the romance of life is +summed up in the hackneyed word "love." The pretty girls who were +nicknamed Blue and Red had outgrown childhood, and they saw no +particular charm in work; they were very dull, and scarce knew why, +except that they half envied Eliza, who had gone to the hotel, and who, +it was well known, had a suitor in the person of Mr. Cyril Harkness, the +Philadelphian dentist. + +Harkness had set up his consulting room in the hotel, but, for economy's +sake, he lodged himself in the old Harmon house that was just beyond +Captain Rexford's, on the same road. By this arrangement he passed the +latter house twice a day, but he never took any notice of Blue and Red. +They did not wish that he should--oh no, they were above that--but they +felt sure that Eliza was very silly to dislike him as she did, +and--well, between themselves, they found an infinite variety of things +to say concerning him, sayings emphasised by sweet little chuckles of +laughter, and not unfrequently wandering sighs. Sophia, at their age, +had had many suitors, this was the family tradition, and lo, upon their +own barren horizon there was only one pretty young man, and he only to +be looked at, as it were, through the bars of a fence. + +One day, when the blue merino frock was flitting about near the red one, +the wearers of both being engaged in shaking up a feather bed, Red +suddenly stopped her occupation in some excitement. + +"Oh, Blue!" She paused a moment as if she were experiencing some +interesting sensation; "oh, Blue, I think I've got toothache." + +"No!" cried Blue, incredulously, but with hope. + +Again over Red's face came the absorbed expression of introspection, and +she carefully indented the outside of her pretty cheek several times +with her forefinger. + +"Yes, I'm sure I feel it. But no; there, it's gone again!" + +"It's just the very way things have," said Blue, lamenting. "For two +months we've quite wished we had toothache, and there was Tommy the +other night just roaring with it." + +"I shouldn't like a _roaring_ toothache," said Red, reflectively. + +"Oh, but the worse it was," cried Blue, encouragingly, "the more +necessary it would be--" She stopped and shook her head with a very +roguish and significant glance at her sister. + +"Mamma only put a bag of hot salt to Tommy's," said Red, prognosticating +evil. + +"But if it were me," cried Blue, with assurance, "I'd not be cured by +bags of hot salt. I would insist upon consulting a dentist." + +They both laughed a laugh of joyful plotting. + +"It was only the other day," said Red, twisting her little English voice +into the American accent, "that he told Harold he was right down clever +at tinkering a tooth in the most pain_less_ manner." + +"Oh, Red, dear Red," begged Blue, "do feel it again, for my sake; it +would be so joyfully funny if mamma would take us to him." + +"I'd a little bit rather _you_, had the ache, Blue." + +"I'd have it this _instant_ if I could, but"--reproachfully--"it was you +that felt the twinge.". + +"Well, I don't mind," said Red, heroically, "as long as my cheek doesn't +swell; I won't go with a swelled face." + +"What would it matter? He knows that your face is alike on both sides +_usually_." + +"Still, I shouldn't like it," replied Red, with a touch of obstinacy. + +Eliza, however, was of a very different mind about this same young man. +She had not taken her new situation with any desire to see more of him; +rather she hoped that by seeing him oftener she should more quickly put +an end to his addresses. + +The "Grand Hotel" of Chellaston was, as Miss Rexford had said, a +boarding-house. It had few transient visitors. The only manufacturer of +the village, and his wife, lived in it all the year round; so did one of +the shopkeepers. Several other quiet people lived there all winter; in +summer the prices were raised, and it was filled to overflowing by more +fashionable visitors from the two cities that were within a short +journey. This "hotel" was an enormous wooden house, built in the +simplest fashion, a wide corridor running from front to rear on each +storey, on which the room doors opened. Rooms and corridors were large, +lofty, and well-lighted by large windows. The dining-room, +billiard-room, office, and bar-room, on the ground-floor, together with +the stairs and corridors, were uncarpeted, painted all over a light +slate grey. With the exception of healthy geraniums in most of the +windows, there was little ornament in these ground-floor rooms; but all +was new, clean, and airy. The upper rooms were more heavily furnished, +but were most of them shut up in winter. All the year round the landlord +took in the daily papers; and for that reason his bar-room, large and +always tolerably quiet, was the best public reading-room the village +boasted. + +The keeper of this establishment was a rather elderly man, and of late +he had been so crippled by rheumatism that he could walk little and only +on crutches. He was not a dainty man; his coat was generally dusty, his +grey beard had always a grimy appearance of tobacco about it. He spent +the greater part of his day now sitting in a high pivot chair, his +crutches leaning against it. + +"You see, miss," he said to Eliza, "I'll tell you what the crying need +for you is in this house at present; it's to step round spry and see +that the girls do their work. It's this way; when I was spry, if I +wasn't in the room, the young people knew that, like as not, I was just +round the corner; they knew I _might_ be there any minute; at present +they know they'll hear my sticks before I see them. It makes all the +difference. What I want of you is to be feet for me, and eyes for me, +and specially in the dining-room. Mrs. Bantry--that dressy lady you saw +in the corridor--Mrs. Bantry told me that this morning they brought her +buckwheat cakes, and _ten minutes after_, the syrup to eat 'em with. How +hot do you suppose they were?" + +He finished his speech with the fine sarcasm of this question. He looked +at Eliza keenly. "You're young," he remarked warningly, "but I believe +you're powerful." + +And Eliza showed that she was powerful by doing the thing that he +desired of her, in spite of the opposition from the servants which she +at first experienced. She had a share of hand work to do also, which was +not light, but she had high wages, a comfortable room in the top +storey, and the women who were boarding in the house made friends with +her. She would have thought herself very well off had it not been for +her dislike of Harkness, for which one reason certainly was the show he +made of being in love with her. + +Harkness had his office on the first floor, and he took dinner at the +hotel. For about a week after Eliza's advent the young dentist and the +young housekeeper measured each other with watchful eyes, a measurement +for which the fact that they crossed each other's path several times a +day gave ample opportunity. Because the woman had the steadier eyes and +the man was the more open-tempered, Eliza gained more insight into +Harkness's character than he did into hers. While he, to use his own +phrase, "couldn't reckon her up the least mite in the world," she +perceived that under his variable and sensitive nature there was a +strong grip of purpose upon all that was for his own interest in a +material way; but having discovered this vein of calculating +selfishness, mixed with much of the purely idle and something that was +really warmhearted, she became only the more suspicious of his +intentions towards herself, and summoned the whole strength of her +nature to oppose him. + +She said to him one day, "I'm surprised to hear that you go about +telling other gentlemen that you like me. I wonder that you're not +ashamed." + +As she had hitherto been silent, he was surprised at this attack, and at +first he took it as an invitation to come to terms. + +"I've a right-down, hearty admiration for you, Miss White. I express it +whenever I get the chance; I'm not ashamed of my admiration." + +"But I am," said Eliza, indignantly. "It's very unkind of you." + +Harkness looked at her, failing to unravel her meaning. + +"There ain't anything a young lady likes better than to have an +admirer. She mayn't always like _him_, but she always likes him to be +admiring of her." + +However true this philosophy of the inner secrets of the heart might be, +Eliza did not admit it for a moment. She denounced his behaviour, but it +was clear, as the saying is, that she was speaking over the head of her +audience. The youth evidently received it as a new idea that, when he +had spoken only in her praise, she could seriously object. + +"Why now," he burst forth, "if any young lady took to admiring me, +thinking a heap of me and talking about me to her friends, d'ye think +I'd be cut up? I'd be pleased to that extent I'd go about on the broad +grin. I mightn't want to marry just yet; and when I did, I mightn't +_possibly_ take up with her; but I can tell you, as soon as I was +disposed to marry, I'd have a soft side towards her; I'd certainly think +it right to give her the first chance in considering who I'd have. And +that's all I ask of you, Miss White. You won't have anything to do with +me (why, I can't think), but I just give it put that I'm an admirer, and +I hang on, hoping that you'll think better of it." + +He was good-natured about it, perfectly open apparently, and at the same +time evidently so confident that his was the sensible view of the matter +that Eliza could only repeat her prohibition less hopefully. + +A little later she found that he had quelled a revolt against her +authority that was simmering in the minds of the table-maids. She went +at once to the door that was decorated with the dentist's sign. + +It was opened by Harkness in the bowing manner with which he was wont to +open to patients. When he saw Eliza's expression he straightened +himself. + +"I want to know what you've been saying to those girls downstairs about +me." + +"Well now," said he, a little flustered, "nothing that you'd dislike to +hear." + +"Do you think," she went on with calm severity, "that I can't manage my +affairs without your help?" + +"By no means." His emphasis implied that he readily perceived which +answer would give least offence. "Same time, if I can make your path +more flowery--fail to see objections to such a course." + +"I don't want you to trouble yourself." + +"It wasn't the least mite of trouble," he assured her. "Why, those girls +downstairs, whenever I roll my eyes, they just fly to do the thing I +want." + +"Do you think that is nice?" asked Eliza. + +"Lovely--so convenient!" + +"I do not like it." + +"It don't follow that whenever they roll their eyes, I do what they +want. Jemima! no. They might roll them, and roll them, and roll them, +right round to the back of their heads; 'twouldn't have an atom of +effect on me." + +He waited to see some result from this avowal, but Eliza was looking at +him as coldly as ever. + +"In that respect," he added, "there ain't no one that interferes with +your prerogative." + +Eliza looked as if he had spoken in a foreign tongue. "I do not +understand," she said, and in this she told a lie, but she told it so +successfully that he really did not know whether she had understood, or +whether it behooved him to speak more plainly. + +Before he could make up his mind, she had taken her departure. When she +was gone he stood looking darkly, wishing he knew how to hasten the day +when she should change her aspect to him. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +When Harkness found that he was always defied by Eliza he grew gloomy, +and was quiet for a time. One day, however, he recovered his former +cheerfulness. He seemed, indeed, to be in high spirits. When he saw his +time, he sought talk with Eliza. He did not now affect to be lively, but +rather wore a manner of marked solemnity. + +"Can you read the French language?" he asked. + +"No," she answered. + +"That's unfortunate, for I'm not a good hand at it myself; but I've +found a bit of news in a French paper here that is real interesting and +important." + +He unfurled a crushed copy of a Quebec journal a few days old. "It +says," he began translating, that "there's a man called Cameron, who's +been nicknamed Lazarus Cameron, because he seemed to be dead and came to +life again." + +He looked hard at the paper, as if needing a few moments to formulate +further translation. + +"Do go on," said Eliza, with manifest impatience. + +"Why now, you're _real_ interested, Miss White." + +"Anybody would want to know what you're at." + +"Well, but, considering it's any one so composed as you, Miss White, +it's real pleasant to see you so keen." + +"I'm keen for my work. I haven't time, like you, to stand here all day." + +All this time he had been looking at the paper. "What I've read so far, +you see, is what I've told you before as having happened to my knowledge +at a place called Turrifs Station." + +"Is that all?" + +"No," and he went on translating. "'Whether this man was dead or not, he +is now alive, but partially deaf and blind; and whether he has ever seen +anything of the next world or not, he has now no interest in this one, +but spends his whole time praying or preaching, living on crusts, and +walking great distances in solitary places. He has lately appeared in +the suburbs of this city' (that is Quebec) 'and seems to be a +street-preacher of no ordinary power.'" + +Harkness stopped with an air of importance. + +"Is that all?" asked Eliza. + +He gave her another paper, in English, to read. This contained a longer +and more sensational account of the same tale, and with this difference, +that instead of giving the simple and sentimental view of the French +writer, the English journalist jeered greatly, and also stated that the +nickname Lazarus had been given in derision, and that the man, who was +either mad or an imposter, had been hooted, pelted, and even beaten in +the streets. + +"Is that all?" she asked. + +"Unless you can tell me any more." He did not say this lightly. + +"Is that all?" she asked again, as if his words had been unmeaning. + +"Well now, I think that's enough. 'Tisn't every day this poor earth of +ours is favoured by hearing sermons from one as has been t'other side of +dying. I think it would be more worth while to hear him than to go to +church, I do." + +"Do you mean to say," she asked, with some asperity, "that you really +believe it?" + +"I tell you I saw the first part of it myself, and unless you can give +me a good reason for not believing the second, I'm inclined to swallow +it down whole, Miss Cameron--I beg your pardon, White, I mean. One gets +real confused in names, occasionally." + +"Well," said Eliza, composedly, preparing to leave him, "I can't say I +understand it, Mr. Harkness, but I must say it sounds too hard for me to +believe." + +He looked after her with intense curiosity in his eyes, and in the next +few days returned to the subject in her presence again and again, +repeating to her all the comments that were made on the story in the +bar-room, but he could not rouse her from an appearance of cheerful +unconcern. + +Another item appeared in the papers; the old man called Cameron had been +brought before the magistrates at Quebec for some street disturbance of +which he appeared to have been the innocent cause. + +Upon this Cyril Harkness took a whim into his head, which he made known +to all his friends in the place, and then to Eliza--a most extraordinary +whim, for it was nothing less than to go down to Quebec, and take the +street preacher under his own protection. + +"I feel as if I had a sort of responsibility," said he, "for I was at +the very beginning of this whole affair, and saw the house where he had +lived, and I got real well acquainted with his partner, who no doubt had +ill-treated him. I saw the place where a daughter of his perished too, +and now he's got so near up here as this, I can't bear to think of that +old man being ill-treated and having no one to look after him. I'm going +right down to Quebec by the Saturday-night train, an' I'll be back +Monday morning if I can persuade the old gentleman to come right here +where I can look after him. I reckon there's room in the Harmon house +for both him and me, an' I reckon, if he's got anything particularly +powerful to say in the way of religion, it won't do this little town any +harm to hear it." + +He had said all this to Eliza. + +"Don't!" she cried in great surprise, but with determined opposition. "I +shall never think you have any sense again if you do such a foolish and +wicked thing." + +"Why now, Miss White, as to losing your good opinion, I didn't know as +I'd been fortunate enough to get it yet; and as to its being wicked, I +don't see how you make _that_ out." + +"It's meddling with what you have nothing to do with." + +"Well now, what will you give me not to go?" He said these words, as he +said most of his words, in a languid, lingering way, but he turned and +faced her with an abrupt glance. + +He and she were standing at the head of the first staircase in the +unfurnished corridor. It was the middle of the afternoon; no one chanced +to be passing. He, light-moving, pretty fellow as he was, leaned on the +wall and glanced at her sharply. She stood erect, massive, not only in +her form, but in the strength of will that she opposed to his, and a red +flush slowly mantled her pale, immobile face. + +"I don't know what you want of me," she said. "Money's the thing you +love, and I haven't any money; but whether I had or not, I would give +you _nothing_." She turned at the last word. + +Then Harkness, taking the chiding and jeers of all his companions +good-naturedly, and giving them precisely the same excuses that he had +given to Eliza, started for Quebec. + +What was more remarkable, he actually brought back the old preacher with +him--brought him, or rather led him, to the Harmon house, for the old +man was seemingly quite passive. This was an accomplished fact when +Eliza and Harkness met again. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The day after his coming, and the next, for some reason the old stranger +called Cameron remained in the brick house to which Harkness had brought +him. The young man, impatient for novelty, if for nothing else, began to +wonder if he had sunk into some stupor of mind from which he would not +emerge. He had heard of him as a preacher, and as the conceptions of +ordinary minds are made up only of the ideas directly presented to them, +he had a vague notion that this old man continually preached. As it was, +he went to his work at the hotel on the third morning, and still left +his strange guest in the old house, walking about in an empty room, +munching some bread with his keen white teeth, his bright eyes half shut +under their bushy brows. + +Harkness came to the hotel disconcerted, and, meeting Eliza near the +dining-room, took off his hat in sullen silence. Several men in the room +called after him as he passed. "How's your dancing bear, Harkness?" +"How's the ghost you're befriending?" "How's your coffin-gentleman?" +There was a laugh that rang loudly in the large, half-empty room. + +After Harkness had despatched two morning visitors, however, and was +looking out of his window, as was usual in his idle intervals, he +noticed several errand-boys gazing up the road, and in a minute an +advancing group came within his view, old Cameron walking down the +middle of the street hitting the ground nervously with his staff, and +behind him children of various sizes following rather timidly. Every now +and then the old man emitted some sound--a shout, a word of some sort, +not easily understood. It was this that had attracted the following of +children, and was very quickly attracting the attention of every one in +the street. One or two men, and a woman with a shawl over her head, were +coming down the sidewalks the same way and at about the same pace as the +central group, and Harkness more than suspected that they had diverged +from the proper course of their morning errands out of curiosity. He +took more interest in the scene than seemed consistent with his slight +connection with the principal actor. He made an excited movement toward +his door, and his hand actually trembled as he opened it. Eliza was +usually about the passages at this time of day. He called her name. + +She put her head over the upper bannister. + +"Come down and see Lazarus Cameron!" + +"I'll come in a minute." + +He saw through the railing of the bannisters the movement of some linen +she was folding. + +"He'll be past in a minute." Harkness's voice betrayed his excitement +more than he desired. + +Eliza dropped the linen and came downstairs rather quickly. Harkness +returned to his window; she came up beside him. The inner window was +open, only one pane was between them and the outer air. In yards all +round cocks were crowing, as, on a mild day in the Canadian March, cocks +will crow continually. Light snow of the last downfall lay on the +opposite roofs, and made the hills just seen behind them very white. The +whole winter's piles of snow lay in the ridges between the footpaths and +the road. Had it not been that some few of the buildings were of brick, +and that on one or two of the wooden ones the white paint was worn off, +the wide street would have been a picture painted only in different +tones of white. But the clothes of the people were of dark colour, and +the one vehicle in sight was a blue box-sleigh, drawn by a shaggy pony. + +Eliza was conscious of the picture only as one is conscious of +surroundings upon which the eye does not focus. Her sight fastened on +the old man, now almost opposite the hotel. He was of a broad, powerful +frame that had certainly once possessed great strength. Even now he was +strong; he stooped a little, but he held his head erect, and the +well-formed, prominent features of his weather-beaten face showed forth +a tremendous force of some sort; even at that distance the brightness of +his eyes was visible under bushy brows, grey as his hair. His clothes +were of the most ordinary sort, old and faded. His cap was of the +commonest fur; he grasped it now in his hand, going bareheaded. Tapping +the ground with his staff, he walked with nervous haste, looking upward +the while, as blind men often look. + +Harkness did not look much out of the window; he was inspecting Eliza's +face: and when she turned to him he gave her a glance that, had she been +a weaker woman, would have been translated into many words--question and +invective; but her silence dominated him. It was a look also that, had +he been a stronger man, he would have kept to himself, for it served no +purpose but to betray that there was some undercurrent of antagonism to +her in his mind. + +"You're very queer to-day, Mr. Harkness," she remarked, and with that +she withdrew. + +But when the door closed she was not really gone to the young man. He +saw her as clearly with his mind as a moment before he had seen her with +his eyes, and he pondered now the expression on her face when she looked +out of the window. It told him, however, absolutely nothing of the +secret he was trying to wring from her. + +There was no square in Chellaston, no part of the long street much +wider than any other or more convenient as a public lounging place. +Here, in front of the hotel, was perhaps the most open spot, and +Harkness hoped the old man would make a stand here and preach; but he +turned aside and went down a small side street, so Harkness, who had no +desire to identify himself too publicly with his strange _protégé_, was +forced to leave to the curiosity of others the observation of his +movements. + +The curiosity of people in the street also seemed to abate. The more +respectable class of people are too proud to show interest in the same +way that gaping children show it, and most people in this village +belonged to the more respectable class. Those who had come to doors or +windows on the street retired from them just as Harkness had done; those +out in the street went on their ways, with the exception of two men of +the more demonstrative sort, who went and looked down the alley after +the stranger, and called out jestingly to some one in it. + +Then the old man stopped, and, with his face still upturned, as if blind +to everything but pure light, took up his position on one side of the +narrow street. He had only gone some forty paces down it. A policeman, +coming up in front of the hotel, looked on, listening to the jesters. +Then he and they drew a little nearer, the children who had followed +stood round, one man appeared at the other end of the alley. On either +side the houses were high and the windows few, but high up in the hotel +there was a small window that lighted a linen press, and at that small +window, with the door of the closet locked on the inside, Eliza stood +unseen, and looked and listened. + +The voice of the preacher was loud, unnatural also in its rising and +falling, the voice of a deaf man who could not hear his own tones. His +words were not what any one expected. This was the sermon he preached: + +"In a little while He that shall come will not tarry. Many shall say to +Him in that day, 'Lord, Lord,' and He shall say, 'Depart from me; I +never knew you.'" + +His voice, which had become very vehement, suddenly sank, and he was +silent. + +"Upon my word, that's queer," said one of the men who stood near the +policeman. + +"He's staring mad," said the other man in plain clothes. "He should be +in the asylum." + +This second man went away, but the first speaker and the policeman drew +still nearer, and the congregation did not diminish, for the man who +left was replaced by the poor woman with the checked shawl over her head +who had first followed the preacher up the street, and who now appeared +standing listening at a house corner. She was well known in the village +as the wife of a drunkard. + +The old man began speaking again in softer voice, but there was the same +odd variety of tones which had exciting effect. + +"Why do you defraud your brother? Why do you judge your brother? Why do +you set at nought your brother? Inasmuch as you do it unto the least of +these, you do it to Him." + +His voice died away again. His strong face had become illumined, and he +brought down his gaze toward the listeners. + +"If any man shall do His will he shall know of the doctrine. He will +know--yes, know--for there is no other knowledge as sure as this." + +Then, in such a colloquial way that it almost seemed as if the listeners +themselves had asked the question, he said: "What shall we do that we +may work the works of God?" + +And he smiled upon them, and held out his hands as if in blessing, and +lifted up his face again to heaven, and cried, "This is the work of God, +that ye believe on Him Whom He hath sent." + +As if under some spell, the few to whom he had spoken stood still, till +the preacher slowly shifted himself and began to walk away by the road +he had come. + +Some of the children went after him as before. The poor woman +disappeared behind the house she had been standing against. The +policeman and his companion began to talk, looking the while at the +object of their discussion. + +Eliza, in the closet, leaned her head against the pile of linen on an +upper shelf, and was quite still for some time. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Principal Trenholme had been gone from Chellaston a day or two on +business. When he returned one evening, he got into his smart little +sleigh which was in waiting at the railway station, and was driving +himself home, when his attention was arrested and his way blocked by a +crowd in front of the hotel. He did not force a way for his horse, but +drew up, listening and looking. It was a curious picture. The wide +street of snow and the houses were dusky with night, except where light +chanced to glow in doorways and windows. The collection of people was +motley. Above, all the sky seemed brought into insistent notice as a +roof or covering, partly because pale pink streamers of flickering +northern light were passing over it, partly because the leader of the +crowd, an old man, by looking upwards, drew the gaze of all to follow +whither his had gone. + +Trenholme heard his loud voice calling: "Behold He shall come again, and +every eye shall look on Him Whom they have pierced. Blessed are those +servants whom their Lord when He cometh shall find watching." + +The scene was foreign to life in Chellaston. Trenholme, who had no mind +to stand on the skirts of the crowd, thrust his reins into the hand of +his rustic groom, and went up the broad steps of the hotel, knowing that +he would there have his inquiries most quickly answered. + +In the bar-room about thirty men were crowded about the windows, looking +at the preacher, not listening, for the double glass, shut out the +preacher's voice. They were interested, debating loudly among +themselves, and when they saw who was coming up the steps, they said to +each other and the landlord, "Put it to the Principal." There were men +of all sorts in this group, most of them very respectable; but when +Trenholme stood inside the door, his soft hat shading his shaven face, +his fur-lined driving coat lying back from the finer cloth it covered, +he was a very different sort of man from any of them. He did not know +that it was merely by the influence of this difference (of which perhaps +he was less conscious than any of them) that they were provoked to +question him. Hutchins, the landlord, sat at the back of the room on his +high office chair. + +"Good evening, Principal," said he. "Glad to see you in the place again, +sir. Have you heard of a place called Turrifs Road Station? 'Tain't on +our map." + +Trenholme gave the questioner a severe glance of inquiry. The scene +outside, and his proposed inquiry concerning it, passed from his mind, +for he had no means of divining that this question referred to it. The +place named was known to him only by his brother's letter. The men, he +saw, were in a rough humour, and because of the skeleton in his closet +he jumped to the thought that something had transpired concerning his +brother, something that caused them to jeer. He did not stop to think +what it might be. His moral nature stiffened itself to stand for truth +and his brother at all costs. + +"I know the place;" he said. + +His words had a stern impressiveness which startled his hearers. They +were only playing idly with the pros and cons of a newspaper tale; but +this man, it would seem, treated the matter very seriously. + +Hutchins had no desire to annoy, but he did not know how to desist from +further question, and, supposing that the story of Cameron was known, he +said in a more ingratiating way: + +"Well, but, sir, you don't want us to believe the crazy tale of the +station hand there, that he saw the dead walk?" + +Again there was that in Trenholme's manner which astonished his +hearers. Had they had the slightest notion they were offending him, they +would have known it was an air of offence, but, not suspecting that, +they could only judge that he thought the subject a solemn one. + +"I would have you believe his word, certainly. He is a man of honour." + +A facetious man here took his pipe out of his mouth and winked to his +companions. "You've had private information to that effect, I suppose, +Principal." + +Very haughtily Trenholme assented. + +He had not been in the room more than a few moments when all this had +passed. He was handed a newspaper, which gave still another account of +the remote incident which was now at last ticklings the ears of the +public, and he was told that the man Cameron was supposed to be the +preacher who was now without. He heard what part Harkness had played, +and he saw that his brother's name was not mentioned in the public +print, was apparently not known. He took a little pains to be genial (a +thing he was certainly not in the habit of doing in that room), in order +to dissipate any impression his offended manner might have given, and +went home. + +It is not often a man estimates at all correctly the effect of his own +words and looks; he would need to be a trained actor to do this, and, +happily, most men are not their own looking-glasses. Trenholme thought +he had behaved in a surly and stiff manner, and, had the subject been +less unpleasant, he would rather have explained at once where and who +his brother was. This was his remembrance of his call at the hotel, but +the company there saw it differently. + +No sooner had he gone than the facetious man launched his saw-like voice +again upon the company. "He had private information on the subject, _he +had_." + +"There's one sure thing," said a stout, consequential man; "he believes +the whole thing, the Principal does." + +A commercial traveller who was acquainted with the place put in his +remark. "There isn't a man in town that I wouldn't have expected to see +gulled sooner." + +To which a thin, religious man, who, before Trenholme entered, had +leaned to the opinion that there were more things in the world than they +could understand, now retorted that it was more likely that the last +speaker was gulled himself. Principal Trenholme, he asserted, wasn't a +man to put his faith in anything without proofs. + +Chellaston was not a very gossiping place. For the most part the people +had too much to do, and were too intent upon their own business, to take +much trouble to retail what they chanced to hear; but there are some +things which, as the facetious man observed, the dead in their graves +would gossip about if they could; and one of these themes, according to +him, was that Principal Trenholme believed there had been something +supernatural about the previous life of the old preacher. The story went +about, impressing more particularly the female portion of the community, +but certainly not without influence upon the males also. Portly men, who +a week before would have thought themselves compromised by giving a +serious thought to the narrative, now stood still in the street to get +the chance of hearing the preacher, and felt that in doing so they were +wrapped in all the respectability of the cloth of Trenholme's coats, and +standing firm on the letters of his Oxford degree and upon all the +learning of the New College. + +They did not believe the story themselves. No, there was a screw loose +somewhere; but Principal Trenholme had some definite knowledge of the +matter. The old man had been in a trance, a very long trance, to say the +least of it, and had got up a changed creature. Principal Trenholme was +not prepared to scout the idea that he had been nearer to death than +falls to the lot of most living men. + +It will be seen that the common sense of the speakers shaped crude +rumour to suit themselves. Had they left it crude, it would have died. +It is upon the nice sense of the probable and possible in talkative men +that mad rumour feeds. + +As for Trenholme, he became more or less aware of the report that had +gone out about his private knowledge of old Cameron, but it was less +rather than more. The scholastic life of the college was quite apart +from the life of the village, and in the village those who talked most +about Cameron were the least likely to talk to Trenholme on any subject. +His friends were not those who were concerned with the rumour; but even +when he was taxed with it, the whole truth that he knew was no apparent +contradiction. He wrote to Alec, making further inquiries, but Alec had +retreated again many miles from the post. To be silent and ignore the +matter seemed to be his only course. + +Thus it happened that, because Harkness housed him in the hope of +working upon Eliza, and because Trenholme happened to have had a brother +at Turrifs Station, the strange old preacher found a longer resting +place and a more attentive hearing in the village of Chellaston than he +would have been likely to find elsewhere. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +There was in Chellaston a very small and poor congregation of the sect +called Adventists. The sect was founded by one Miller, a native of New +York State, a great preacher and godly man, who, from study of prophecy, +became convinced that the Second Coming of the Lord would take place in +the year 1843. He obtained a large following; and when the time passed +and his expectation was not fulfilled, this body, instead of melting +away, became gradually greater, and developed into a numerous and rather +influential sect. In the year of Miller's prediction, 1843, there had +been among his followers great excitement, awe and expectation; and the +set time passed, and the prediction had no apparent fulfilment, but lay +to every one's sight, like a feeble writing upon the sands of fantasy, +soon effaced by the ever flowing tide of natural law and orderly +progression. Now, that this was the case and that yet this body of +believers did not diminish but increased, did not become demoralised but +grew in moral strength, did not lose faith but continued to cherish a +more ardent hope and daily expectation of the Divine appearing, is no +doubt due to the working of some law which we do not understand, and +which it would therefore be unscientific to pronounce upon. + +The congregation of Adventists in Chellaston, however, was not +noticeable for size or influence. Some in the neighbourhood did not even +know that this congregation existed, until it put forth its hand and +took to itself the old preacher who was called Lazarus Cameron. They +understood his language as others did not; they believed that he had +come with a message for them; they often led him into their +meeting-place and into their houses; and he, perhaps merely falling into +the mechanical habit of going where he had been led, appeared in his own +fashion to consort with them. + +There, was something weird about the old preacher, although he was +healthy, vigorous, and kindly, clean-looking in body and soul; but the +aspect of any one is in the eye of the beholder. This man, whose mind +was blank except upon one theme, whose senses seemed lost except at rare +times, when awakened perhaps by an effort of his will, or perhaps by an +unbidden wave of psychical sympathy with some one to whom he was drawn +by unseen union, awoke a certain feeling of sensational interest in most +people when they approached him. The public were in the main divided +into two classes in their estimate of him--those who felt the force of +his religion, and argued therefrom that his opinions were to be +respected; and those who believed that his mind was insane, and argued +therefrom that his religion was either a fancy or a farce. At first +there was a great deal of talk about whether he should be put in a +madhouse or not; some called Harkness a philanthropist, and others +called him a meddling fellow. Soon, very soon, there was less talk: +that which is everybody's business is nobody's business. Harkness +continued to befriend him in the matter of food and lodging; the old man +grew to be at home in the Harmon house and its neglected surroundings. +When the will to do so seized him, he went into the village and lifted +up his voice, and preached the exactions of the love of the Son of God, +proclaiming that He would come again, and that quickly. + +The winter days had grown very long; the sun had passed the vernal +equinox, and yet it looked upon unbroken snowfields. Then, about the +middle of April, the snow passed quickly away in blazing sunshine, in a +thousand rivulets, in a flooded river. The roads were heavy with mud, +but the earth was left green, the bud of spring having been nurtured +beneath the kindly shelter of the snow. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Now came the most lovely moment of the year. All the trees were putting +forth new leaves, leaves so young, so tiny as yet, that one could see +the fowls of the air when they lodged in the branches--no small +privilege, for now the orange oriole, and the bluebird, and the +primrose-coloured finch, were here, there, and everywhere; and more +rarely the scarlet tanager. A few days before and they had not come; a +few days more and larger leaves would hide them perfectly. Just at this +time, too, along the roadsides, big hawthorn shrubs and wild plum were +in blossom, and in the sheltered fields the mossy sod was pied with +white and purple violets, whose flowerets so outstripped their +half-grown leaves that blue and milky ways were seen in woodland glades. + +With the sense of freedom that comes with the thus sudden advent of the +young summer, Winifred Rexford strayed out of the house one morning. +She did not mean to go, and when she went through the front gate she +only meant to go as far as the first wild plum-tree, to see if the white +bloom was turning purple yet, as Principal Trenholme had told her it +would. When she got to the first plum-tree she went on to the second. +Winifred wore a grey cotton dress; it was short, not yet to her ankles, +and her broad hat shaded her from the sun. When she reached the second +group of plum-trees she saw a scarlet tanager sitting on a telegraph +pole--for along the margin of the road, standing among uncut grass and +flowers and trees, tall barkless stumps were set, holding the wires on +high. Perhaps they were ugly things, but a tree whose surface is uncut +is turned on Nature's lathe; at any rate, to the child the poles were +merely a part of the Canadian road, and the scarlet tanager showed its +plumage to advantage as it sat on the bare wood. There was no turning +back then; even Sophia would have neglected her morning task to see a +tanager! She crept up under it, and the bird, like a streak of red +flame, shot forth from the pole, to a group of young pine trees further +on. + +So Winifred strayed up the road about a quarter of a mile, till she came +to the gate of the Harmon garden. The old house, always half concealed, +was quickly being entirely hidden by the massive Curtains the young +leaves were so busily weaving. The tanager turned in here, as what bird +would not when it spied a tract of ground where Nature was riotously +decking a bower with the products of all the roots and seeds of a +deserted garden! There was many a gap in the weather-beaten fence where +the child might have followed, but she dare not, for she was in great +awe of the place, because the preacher who was said to have died and +come to life again lived there. She only stood and looked through the +fence, and the tanager--having flitted near the house--soared and +settled among the feathery boughs of a proud acacia tree; she had to +look across half an acre of bushes to see him, and then he was so high +and so far that it seemed (as when looking at the stars) she did not +see him, but only the ray of scarlet light that travelled from him +through an atmosphere of leaflets. It was very trying, for any one knows +that it is _something_ to be able to say that you have come to close +quarters with a scarlet tanager. + +Winifred, stooping and looking through the fence, soon heard the college +bell jangle; she knew that it was nine o'clock, and boys and masters +were being ingathered for morning work. The college buildings in their +bare enclosure stood on the other side of the road. Winifred would have +been too shy to pass the playground while the boys were out, but now +that every soul connected with the place would be indoors, she thought +she might go round the sides of the Harmon garden and see the red bird +much nearer from a place she thought of. + +This place was nothing but a humble, disused, and untidy burying-ground, +that occupied the next lot in the narrow strip of land that here for a +mile divided road and river. Winifred ran over the road between the +Harmon garden and the college fence, and, climbing the log fence, stood +among the quiet gravestones that chronicled the past generations of +Chellaston. Here grass and wild flowers grew apace, and close by ran the +rippling river reflecting the violet sky above. A cemetery, every one +knows, is a place where any one may walk or sit as long as he likes, but +Winifred was surprised to find Principal Trenholme's housekeeper there +before her; and moreover, this staid, sad woman was in the very place +Winifred was going to, for she was looking through the fence that +enclosed the Harmon garden. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Martha," said Winifred politely, concealing her +surprise. + +"I've been milking," said the sad woman, glancing slightly at a pail of +foaming milk that she had set for greater security between two +grave-heaps. + +Winifred came and took her place beside the housekeeper, and they both +looked through the paling of the Harmon property. + +The tanager was still on the acacia, from this nearer point looking like +a great scarlet blossom of some cactus, so intense was the colour; but +Winifred was distracted from her interest in the bird by seeing the old +house more plainly than she had ever seen it before. It stood, a large +substantial dwelling, built not without the variety of outline which +custom has given to modern villas, but with all its doors and windows on +this side fastened by wooden shutters, that, with one or two exceptions, +were nailed up with crossbeams and overgrown with cobwebs. Winifred +surveyed it with an interested glance. + +"Did you come to see him?" whispered the housekeeper. + +Winifred's eye reverted to the tanager of which, on the whole, her mind +was more full. "Yes"--she whispered the word for fear of startling it. + +"I should think yer ma would want you in of a morning, or Miss Sophia +would be learning you yer lessons. When I was your age--But"--sadly--"it +stands to reason yer ma, having so many, and the servant gone, and the +cows comin' in so fast these days one after t'other, that they can't +learn you much of anything reg'lar." + +Winifred acquiesced politely. She was quite conscious of the +shortcomings in the system of home education as it was being applied to +her in those days; no critic so keen in these matters as the pupil of +fourteen! + +"Well now, it's a pity," said the housekeeper, sincerely, "and they do +say yer ma does deplorable bad cooking, and yer sisters that's older +than you aren't great hands at learning." The housekeeper sat down on a +grave near the paling, as if too discouraged at the picture she had +drawn to have energy to stand longer. + +Winifred looked at the tanager, at the housekeeper, and round her at the +happy morning. This sad-eyed, angular woman always seemed to her more +like a creature out of a solemn story, or out of a stained-glass window, +than an ordinary person whose comments could be offensive. They had +talked together before, and each in her own way took a serious interest +in the other. + +"Sister Sophia has learned to cook very nicely," said the child, but not +cheerfully. It never seemed to her quite polite to be cheerful when she +was talking to Mrs. Martha. + +"Yes, child; but she can't do everything"--with a sigh--"she's put upon +dreadful as it is." Then in a minute, "What made you think of coming +here after him?" + +"I think it's so wonderful." The child's eyes enlarged as she peered +through the fence again at the scarlet bird. + +"Lolly, child! I'm glad to hear you say that," said Mrs. Martha, +strongly. "He's far above and beyond--he's a very holy man." + +Winifred perceived now that she was talking of old Cameron, and she +thought it more polite not to explain that she had misunderstood. +Indeed, all other interests in her mind became submerged in wonder +concerning the old man as thus presented. + +"He's mad, isn't he?" + +"No, he isn't." + +"I knew he was very good, but couldn't he be good and mad too?" + +"No," said Mrs. Martha; and the serious assertion had all the more +effect because it stood alone, unpropped by a single reason. + +"When I've milked the Principal's special cow I often come here of a +morning, and sometimes I see the saint walking under the trees. I don't +mind telling you, child, for you've a head older than yer years, but you +mustn't speak of it again. I'd not like folks to know." + +"I won't tell," whispered Winifred, eagerly. She felt inexpressibly +honoured by the confidence. "Do you think he'll come out now?" Awe and +excited interest, not unmingled with fear, were taking possession of +her. She crouched down beside the solemn woman, and looked through at +the house and all its closed windows. The hedge was alive with birds +that hopped and piped unnoticed, even the scarlet bird was forgotten. + +"Mrs. Martha," she whispered, "I heard papa say Cameron believed that +our Saviour was soon coming back again, and only those people would go +with Him who were watching and waiting. Mr. Trenholme said every one was +mad who thought that." + +"There's a sight of people will tell you you're mad if you're only +fervent." + +The child did not know precisely what "fervent" meant, but she began to +doubt Trenholme's positive knowledge on the subject. "Do you believe the +end of the world's coming so soon?" + +"Lor, child! what do I know but the world might go on a good bit after +that? I can't tell from my Bible whether the Lord will take us who are +looking for Him up to His glory for a while, or whether He'll appoint us +a time of further trial while He's conquering the earth; but I do know +it wouldn't matter much which, after we'd heard Him speak to each of us +by name and seen His face." The sad woman looked positively happy while +she spoke. + +"Oh, Mrs. Martha, are _you_ watching like that? But how can you all the +time--you must sleep and work, you know?" + +"Yes, child; but the heart can watch; and He knows we must sleep and +work; and for that reason I'm not so sure but, if we're faithful, He +might in mercy give us a word beforehand to let us know when to be +expecting more particularly. I don't know, you know, child; I'm only +saying what might be." + +"But what makes you think so, Mrs. Martha?" + +Winifred was quick-witted enough to perceive something withheld. + +"There's things that it's not right for any one to know but those as +will reverence them." + +"Oh, I will, I will," said Winifred, clasping her hands. + +"As I understand it, Mr. Cameron's had no assurance yet." + +Winifred did not ask what this meant. She felt that she was listening +to words that, if mysterious, were to be pondered in silence. + +"You know the poor thing whose husband is always tipsy--drunken Job they +call him--that you've seen listening to Mr. Cameron?--and that weakly +Mr. McNider, with the little boy?" + +"Yes," assented Winifred. + +"He told them," whispered the housekeeper, "that when he was agonising +in prayer it came into his mind to _wait until August this year_. He +hasn't any assurance what it may have meant; but that may come later, +and p'r'aps the days may be told him; and he's awaiting, and we're +awaiting too. There, that's all I have to tell, child, and I must be +going." + +She gathered her lean figure up from the hillock, and took up her pail. + +As for the girl Winifred, a terrible feeling of fear had come over her. +All the bright world of sun and flowers seemed suddenly overshadowed by +the lowering cloud of an awful possibility. She would no more have +allowed herself to be left alone in that sunny corner of the glad spring +morning than she would have remained alone where visible danger beset +her. Her face bathed in the sudden tears that came so easily to her +girlish eyes, she sprang like a fawn after her companion and grasped her +skirt as she followed. + +"How you take on!" sighed the woman, turning. "Do you mean to say you +ain't, glad?" + +"I'm frightened," gasped the girl. + +"And you been confirmed this spring! What did it mean to you if you +ain't glad there's ever such a little chance of perhaps seeing Him +before the year's out." + +They both climbed the fence, handing over the milk-pail between them. +When they had got on to the road and must part, the housekeeper spoke. + +"I tell you what it is, Winifred Rexford; we've not one of us much to +bring Him in the way of service. If there's one thing more than another +I'm fond of it's to have my kitchen places to myself, but I've often +thought I ought to ask yer ma to send one of you over every day to learn +from me how a house ought to be kept and dinner cooked. Ye'd learn more +watching me in a month, you know, than ye'd learn with yer ma a fussin' +round in six years. Don't tell yer ma it's a trial to me, but just ask +her if she'll send you over for an hour or two every morning." + +"Thank you," said Winifred, reluctantly. "Do you think I _ought_ to +come?" + +"Well, I'd want to be a bit more use to my ma if I was you." + +"It's very kind of you," acknowledged Winifred; "but--but--Mrs. Martha, +if it was true about this--_this August,_ you know--what would be the +use of learning?" + +"Child," said the woman, and if her voice was sad it was also vehement, +"them as are mad in religion are them as thinks doing the duty of each +day for _His_ sake ain't enough without seeing where's the _use_ of +doing what He puts to our hand." + +"Mrs. Martha," besought Winifred, timidly, "I--don't like cooking; but +do you think if I did this I should perhaps get to be glad to think--be +glad to think our Saviour might be coming again so soon?" + +"To love Him is of His grace, and you must get it direct from Him; but +it's wonderful how doing the best we can puts heart into our prayers." + +The scarlet tanager rose and flew from tree to tree like a darting +flame, but Winifred had forgotten him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Midsummer came with its culmination of heat and verdure; and a great +epoch it was in the Chellaston year, for it brought the annual influx of +fashionable life from Quebec and Montreal. To tell the plain truth, this +influx only consisted of one or two families who had chosen this as a +place in which to build summer residences, and some hundred other people +who, singly or in parties, took rooms in the hotel for the hot season; +but it made a vast difference in the appearance of the quiet place to +have several smart phaetons, and one carriage and pair, parading its +roads, and to have its main street enlivened by the sight of the gay +crowd on the hotel verandahs. + +"Now," said Miss Bennett, calling upon Miss Rexford, "there will be a +few people to talk to, and we shall see a little life. These people are +really a very good sort; you'll begin to have some enjoyment." + +The Rexfords had indeed been advertised more than once of the advantage +that would accrue to them from the coming of the town-folks, and this +chiefly by Trenholme himself. + +"The place will seem far different," he had said, "when you have passed +one of our summers. We really have some delightful pleasure parties here +in summer." And another time he had said, "When Mrs. Brown and her +daughters come to their house on the hill I want you to know them. They +are such true-hearted people. All our visitors are genuine Canadians, +not immigrants as we and our neighbours are; and yet, do you know, they +are so nice you would _hardly_ know them from English people. Oh, they +add to our social life very much when they come!" + +He had said so many things of this sort, ostensibly to Mrs. Rexford, +really to Sophia, who was usually a party to his calls on her mother, +that he had inspired in them some of his own pleasurable anticipation. +It was not until the summer visitors were come that they realised how +great was the contrast between their own bare manner of living and the +easy-going expenditure of these people, who were supposed to be such +choice acquaintances for them. Everything is relative. They had not been +mortified by any comparison of their own circumstances and those of +Chellaston families, because, on one account and another, there had +always appeared to be something to equalise the difference. Either their +neighbours, if better off, had not long ago begun as meagrely, or else +they lacked those advantages of culture or social standing which the +Rexfords could boast. Such are the half conscious refuges of our +egotism. But with the introduction of this new element it was different. +Not that they drew any definite comparison between themselves and their +new neighbours--for things that are different cannot be compared, and +the difference on all points was great; but part of Trenholme's prophecy +took place; the life in that pleasant land did appear more and more +desirable as they witnessed the keen enjoyment that these people, who +were not workers, took in it--only (Trenholme and Miss Bennett seemed to +have overlooked this) the leisure and means for such enjoyment were not +theirs. + +"Oh, mamma," said Blue and Red, "we saw the Miss Browns driving on the +road, and they had such pretty silver-grey frocks, with feathers in +their hats to match. We wish we could have feathers to match our +frocks." + +And later Sophia, seeking her step-mother, found her in her own room, +privately weeping. The rare sight rent her heart. + +"If I am their mother" (she began her explanation hurriedly, wiping her +tears) "I can say truthfully they're as pretty a pair of girls as may be +seen on a summer day. You had your turn, Sophia; it's very noble of you +to give up so much for us now, but it can't be said that you didn't have +your turn of gaiety." + +Now Blue and Red were not in need of frocks, for before they left +England their mother had stocked their boxes as though she was never to +see a draper's shop again. But then, she had been in a severely +utilitarian mood, and when she cut out the garments it had not occurred +to her that Fashion would ever come across the fields of a Canadian +farm. + +Sophia rallied her on this mistake now, but resolutely abstracted +certain moneys from the family purse and purchased for the girls white +frocks. She did not omit blue and red ribbons to distinguish between the +frocks and between the wearers. Trenholme had remarked of the girls +lately that neither would know which was herself and which the other if +the badge of colour were removed, and Sophia had fallen into the way of +thinking a good deal of all he said. She was busy weighing him in the +scales of her approval and disapproval, and the scales, she hardly knew +why, continued to balance with annoying nicety. + +For the making up of the frocks, she was obliged to apply for advice to +Eliza, who was the only patron of dressmakers with whom she was +intimate. + +"I think, on the whole, she is satisfactory," said Eliza of one whom she +had employed. "She made the dress I have on, for instance; it fits +pretty well, you see." + +Sophia did not resent this. Eliza had had a rocket-like career of +success in the hotel which pleased and amused her; but she felt that to +forgive the Brown family for having a carriage and pair required +large-mindedness while her father's carriage still stood in the +unfurnished drawing-room, and even Mrs. Rexford had given up hopes of +finding horses to draw it. + +Very soon after, their annual arrival, Mr. and Mrs. Brown and their two +daughters came kindly to call on the new English family. Principal +Trenholme found time to run over by appointment and introduce his +friends. The visitors were evidently generous-minded, wholesome sort of +people, with no high development of the critical faculty, travelled, +well-read, merry, and kind. Sophia confessed to herself after the first +interview that, had it not been for their faulty degree of wealth and +prosperity, she would have liked them very much. Mrs. Bennett, whose +uncle had been an admiral, considered them desirable friends for her +daughter, and this was another reason why, out of pure contrariness, +Sophia found liking difficult; but she determined for Trenholme's sake +to try--a good resolution which lasted until she had taken Blue and Red +to return the call, but no longer. + +"And Miss Rexford," said good Mrs. Brown, "we hear you have had the +privilege of knowing Principal Trenholme for a long time before he came +out here. He is a very _good_ man; for so comparatively young a man, and +one, as you might say, with so many worldly advantages, I think it is +perhaps remarkable that he is so spiritually-minded. I count it a +blessing that we have the opportunity of attending his church during the +summer months." Simple sense and perfect sincerity were written on every +line of Mrs. Brown's motherly face. + +"He really is very good," said one of the daughters. "Do you know, Miss +Rexford, we have a friend who has a son at the college. He really went +to the college a _very_ naughty boy, no one could manage him; and he's +so changed--such a nice fellow, and doing so well. His mother says she +could thank Principal Trenholme on her knees, if it was only the +conventional thing to do." + +"He is a most devoted Christian," added Mrs. Brown, using the religious +terms to which she was accustomed, "and I believe he makes it a matter +of prayer that no young man should leave his college without deepened +religious life. I believe in prayer as a power; don't you, Miss +Rexford?" + +"Yes," replied Sophia, tersely. She did not feel at that moment as if +she wanted to discuss the point. + +"And then he's so jolly," put in the youngest Miss Brown, who was a +hearty girl. "That's the sort of religion for me, the kind that can +rollick--of course I mean _out of church_," she added naďvely. + +Blue and Red sat shyly upon their chairs and listened to this discourse. +It might have been Greek for all the interest they took in it. + +As for Sophia, it could not be said to lack interest for her--it was +very plain, she thought, why Robert Trenholme thought so highly of the +Browns. + +There was a youth belonging to this family who was a year or two older +than Blue and Red. His mother, sent for him to come into the room, and +introduced him to them. He was a nice youth, but precocious; he said to +them: + +"I suppose you think Chellaston is a very pretty place, but I'll tell +you what our natural beauties lack as yet. It is such a literature as +you have in England, which has done so much to endear the wildflowers +and birds and all natural objects there to the heart of the people. Our +Canadian flora and fauna are at present unsung, and therefore, to a +large extent, unobserved by the people, for I think the chief use of the +poet is to interpret nature to the people--don't you?" + +Blue ventured "yes," and Red lisped in confusion, "Do you think so, +really?" but as for any opinion on the subject they had none. Sophia, +fearing that her sisters would be cast aside as hopeless dunces, was +obliged to turn partially from the praise that was being lavished on +Trenholme to make some pithy remark upon the uses of the poet. + +Sophia, although half conscious of her own unreasonableness, decided now +that the Browns might go one way and she another; but she was indebted +to this visit for a clue in analysing the impression Trenholme made upon +her. His new friends had called him noble; she knew now that when she +knew him ten years before he had seemed to her a more noble character. + +In the next few weeks she observed that in every picnic, every pleasure +party, by land or water, Principal Trenholme was the most honoured +guest, and, indeed, the most acceptable cavalier. His holidays had come, +and he was enjoying them in spite of much work that he still exacted +from himself. She wondered at the manner in which he seemed to enjoy +them, and excused herself from participation. It was her own doing that +she stayed at home, yet, perversely, she felt neglected. She hardly knew +whether it was low spite or a heaven-born solicitude that made her feel +bitter regret at the degeneracy she began to think she saw in him. + +In due time there came a pleasure party of which Trenholme was to be the +host. It was to take place in a lovely bit of wilderness ground by the +river side, at the hour of sunset and moonrise, in order that, if the +usual brilliancy attended these phenomena, the softest glories of light +might be part of the entertainment. Music was also promised. Principal +Trenholme came himself to solicit the attendance of the Miss Rexfords; +but Sophia, promising for Blue and Red, pleaded lack of time for +herself. "And I wish your scheme success," cried she, "but I need not +wish you pleasure since, as on all such occasions, you will 'sit +attentive to your own applause.'" + +She felt a little vexed that he did not seem hurt by her quotation, but +only laughed. She did not know that, although the adulation he received +was sweet to him, it was only sweet that summer because he thought it +must enhance his value in her eyes. Some one tells of a lover who gained +his point by putting an extra lace on his servants' liveries; and the +savage sticks his cap with feathers: but these artifices do not always +succeed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Up the road, about a mile beyond the college and the Harmon house, there +was a wilderness of ferns and sumac trees, ending in a stately pine +grove that marked the place where road and river met. Thither Blue and +Red were sent on the evening of Trenholme's picnic. They were dressed in +their new frocks, and had been started at the time all the picnic-goers +were passing up the road. They walked alone, but they were consigned to +Mrs. Bennett's care at the place of assembly. Several carriages full of +guests passed them. + +"I'm growing more shy every moment," said Blue. + +"So am I," sighed Red. + +Young girls will make haunting fears for themselves out of many things, +and these two were beset with a not unnatural fear of young men who +would talk to them about flora and fauna. Sophia had told them that they +looked like ninnies when they appeared not to know what people meant, +and they could not endure the thought. + +Sighed Blue at last, "Do you think it would be dreadfully wicked not to +go?" + +All the guests had passed them by this time, for they had loitered +sadly. It was not that they were not proud of their clothes; they were +as proud as peacocks, and minced along; but then it was enough just to +wear one's fine clothes and imagine that they might meet somebody who +would admire them. + +"Oh, Blue," said Red suddenly, withholding her steps, "suppose we didn't +go, and were to walk back just a little later, don't you think we might +meet--?" There was no name, but a sympathetic understanding. It was +Harkness of whom they thought. + +"I'm sure he's a great deal better looking than young Mr. Brown, and I +think it's unkind to mind the way he talks. Since Winifred had her teeth +done, I think we might just bow a little, if we met him on the road." + +"I think it would be naughty," said Red, reflectively, "but nice--much +nicer than a grown-up picnic." + +"Let's do it," said Blue. "We're awfully good generally; that ought to +make up." + +The sunset cloud was still rosy, and the calm bright moon was riding up +the heavens when these two naughty little maidens, who had waited out of +sight of the picnic ground, judged it might be the right time to be +walking slowly home again. + +"I feel convinced he won't come," said Blue, "just because we should so +much like to pass him in these frocks." + +Now an evil conscience often is the rod of its own chastisement; but in +this instance there was another factor in the case, nothing less than a +little company of half tipsy men, who came along from the town, +peacefully enough, but staggering visibly and talking loud, and the +girls caught sight of them when they had come a long way from the +pleasure party and were not yet very near any house. The possibility of +passing in safety did not enter their panic-stricken minds. They no +sooner spied the men than they stepped back within the temporary shelter +of a curve in the road, speechless with terror. They heard the voices +and steps coming nearer. They looked back the long road they had come, +and perceived that down its length they could not fly. It was in this +moment of despair that a brilliant idea was born in the mind of Red. She +turned to the low open fence of the little cemetery. + +"Come, we can pretend to be tombs," she cried, and whirled Blue over the +fence. They climbed and ran like a streak of light, and before the +drunkards were passing the place, the girls were well back among marble +gravestones. + +Some artistic instinct warned them that two such queer monuments ought +to be widely apart to escape notice. So, in the gathering dimness, each +knelt stock still, without even the comfort of the other's proximity to +help her through the long, long, awful minutes while the roisterous +company were passing by. The men proceeded slowly; happily they had no +interest in inspecting the gravestones of the little cemetery; but had +they been gazing over the fence with eager eyes, and had their designs +been nothing short of murderous upon any monument they chanced to find +alive, the hearts of the two erring maidens could not have beat with +more intense alarm. Fear wrought in them that sort of repentance which +fear is capable of working. "Oh, we're very, very naughty; we ought to +have gone to the picnic when Sophia was so good as to buy us new +frocks," they whispered in their hearts; and the moon looked down upon +them benevolently. + +The stuff of their repentance was soon to be tested, for the voice of +Harkness was heard from over the Harmon fence. + +"Oh, Glorianna! there was never such sculptures. Only want wings. Hats +instead of wings is a little curious even for a funeral monument." + +The two girls stood huddled together now in hasty consultation. "We +didn't mean to be sculptures," spoke up Red, defending her brilliant +idea almost before she was aware. "There's nothing but stand-up slabs +here; we thought we'd look something like them." + +"We were so frightened at the men," said Blue. They approached the fence +as they spoke. + +"Those men wouldn't have done you one mite of harm," said the dentist, +looking down from a height of superior knowledge, "and if they had, I'd +have come and made a clearance double quick." + +They did not believe his first assertion, and doubted his ability to +have thus routed the enemy, but Blue instinctively replied, "You see, we +didn't know you were here, or _of course_ we shouldn't have been +frightened." + +"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" remarked the dentist. + +"Yes, but I think perhaps,"--Red spoke doubtfully--"we ought to be going +home now." + +She was a little mortified to find that he saw the full force of the +suggestion. + +"Yes, I suppose your mother'll be looking for you." + +They both explained, merely to set him right, that this would not be the +case, as they had started to Principal Trenholme's picnic. + +He asked, with great curiosity, why they were not there, and they +explained as well as they could, adding, in a little burst of +semi-confidence, "It's rather more fun to talk to you across a fence +than sit up and be grand in company." + +He smiled at them good-naturedly. + +"Say," said he, "if your mother let you stay out, 'twas because you were +going to be at the Trenholme party. You're not getting benefit of clergy +here, you know." + +"We're going;"--loftily--"we're only waiting to be sure there's no more +drunken people." + +"I was just about to remark that I'd do myself the pleasure of escorting +you." + +At this they whispered together. Then, aloud--"Thank you very much, but +we're not afraid; we're often out as late in papa's fields. We're +afraid mamma wouldn't like it if you came with us." + +"Wouldn't she now?" said Harkness. "Why not? Is she stuck up?" + +Blue felt that a certain romance was involved in acknowledging her +parents' antipathy and her own regret. + +"Rather," she faltered. "Papa and mamma are rather proud, I'm afraid." +It was a bold flight of speech; it quite took Red's breath away. "And +so,"--Blue sighed as she went on--"I'm afraid we mustn't talk to you any +more; we're very sorry. We--I'm sure--we think you are very nice." + +Her feeling tone drew from him a perfectly sincere reply, "So I am; I'm +really a very nice young man. My mother brought me up real well." He +added benevolently, "If you're scared of the road, come right through my +place here, and I'll set you on your own farm double quick." + +It was with pleasurable fear that the girls got through the fence with +his help. They whispered to each other their self-excuses, saying that +mamma would like them to be in their own fields as quickly as possible. + +The moonlight was now gloriously bright. The shrubs of the old garden, +in full verdure, were mysteriously beautiful in the light. The old house +could be clearly seen. Harkness led them across a narrow open space in +front of it, that had once been a gravel drive, but was now almost green +with weeds and grasses. On the other side the bushes grew, as it seemed, +in great heaps, with here and there an opening, moonlit, mysterious. As +they passed quickly before the house, the girls involuntarily shied like +young horses to the further side of Harkness, their eyes glancing +eagerly for signs of the old man. In a minute they saw the door in an +opening niche at the corner of the house; on its steps sat the old +preacher, his grey hair shining, his bronzed face bathed in moonlight. +He sat peaceful and quiet, his hands clasped. Harkness next led them +through, a dark overgrown walk, and, true to his promise, brought them +at once to the other fence. He seemed to use the old paling as a gate +whenever the fancy took him. He pulled away two of the rotten soft wood +pales and helped the girls gallantly on to their father's property. + +"Charmed, I'm sure, to be of use, ladies!" cried he, and he made his +bow. + +On the other side of their own fence, knee-deep in dry uncut grass, they +stood together a few paces from the gap he had made, and proffered their +earnest thanks. + +"Say," said Harkness, abruptly, "d'you often see Miss White up to your +house?" + +"Eliza, do you mean?" said they, with just a slight intonation to +signify that they did not look upon her as a "Miss." Their further +answer represented the exact extent of their knowledge in the matter. +"She didn't come much for a good while, but last week she came to tea. +It is arranged for mamma to ask her to tea once in a while, and we're +all to try and be nice to her, because--well, our sister says, now that +people pay her attentions, she ought to have a place where she can come +to, where she can feel she has friends." + +"How d'ye mean--'pay her attentions'?" + +"That was what we heard sister Sophia say," they replied, pursing up +their little lips. They knew perfectly well what the phrase meant, but +they were not going to confess it. The arts of those who are on the +whole artless are very pretty. + +"Say, d'ye think Miss White's got the least bit of a heart about her +anywheres?" + +"We don't know exactly what you mean"--with dignity--"but one of the +ladies who boards at the hotel told mamma that Eliza _always_ behaves +_admirably_'; that's part of the reason we're having her to tea." + +"Did she, though? If having about as much feeling as this fence has is +such fine behaviour--!" He stopped, apparently not knowing exactly how +to end his sentence. + +The girls began to recede. The grass grew so thin and dry that they did +little harm by passing through it. It sprang up in front of their feet +as they moved backwards in their white dresses. All colour had passed +from the earth. The ripple of the river and the cry of the +whip-poor-will rose amid the murmur of the night insects. + +"Do you sometimes come down here of an evening?" asked the young man. +"At sunset it's real pleasant." + +"Sometimes," answered Blue. Her soft voice only just reached him. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +So the days wore on till August. One morning Cyril Harkness lay in wait +for Eliza. It was early; none of the boarders at the hotel were down +yet. Eliza, who was always about in very good time, found him in the +corridor on the first floor. He did not often attempt to speak to her +now. + +"Say," said he, gloomily, "come into my office. I've something to tell." + +The gloom of his appearance, so unusual to him, gave her a presage of +misfortune. She followed him into the room of dental appliances. + +He told her to sit down, and she did so. She sat on a stiff sofa against +the wall. He stood with one elbow on the back of the adjustable chair. +Behind him hung a green rep curtain, which screened a table at which he +did mechanical work. They were a handsome pair. The summer morning +filled the room with light, and revealed no flaw in their young +comeliness. + +"Look here! It's January, February, March"--he went on enumerating the +months till he came to August--"that I've been hanging on here for no +other earthly reason than to inspire in you the admiration for me that +rises in me for you quite spontaneous." + +"Is that all you have to say?" + +"Isn't that enough--eight months out of a young man's life?" + +"It's not enough to make me waste my time at this hour in the morning." + +"Well, it's _not_ all, but it's what I'm going to say first; so you'll +have to listen to it for my good before you listen to the other for your +own. I've done all I could, Miss White, to win your affection." + +He paused, looking at her, but she did not even look at him. She did +appear frightened, and, perceiving this, he took a tone more gentle and +pliant. + +"I can't think why you won't keep company with me. I'm a real lovable +young man, if you'd only look at the thing fairly." + +He had plenty of humour in him, but he did not seem to perceive the +humour of acting as showman to himself. He was evidently sincere. + +"Why, now, one of my most lovable qualities is just that when I do +attach myself I find it awful hard to pull loose again. Now, that's just +what you don't like in me; but if you come to think of it, it's a real +nice characteristic. And then, again, I'm not cranky; I'm real amiable; +and you can't find a much nicer looking fellow than me. You'll be sorry, +you may believe, if you don't cast a more favourable eye toward me." + +She did not reply, so he continued urging. "If it's because you're stuck +up, it must have been those poor English Rexfords put it into your head, +for you couldn't have had such ideas before you came here. Now, if +that's the barrier between us, I can tell you it needn't stand, for I +could have one of those two pretty young ladies of theirs quick as not. +If I said 'Come, my dear, let's go off by train and get married, and ask +your father's blessing after,' she'd come." + +"How dare you tell me such a falsehood!" Eliza rose magnificently. + +"Oh," said he, "I meet them occasionally." + +She looked at him in utter disdain. She did not believe him; it was only +a ruse to attract her. + +"How do you know," she asked fiercely, "what ideas I could have had or +not before I went to the Rexfords?" + +"That's a part of what I was going to say next"--she sat down +again--"but I don't _want_ to hurt you, mind. I'd make it real easy for +you if you'd let me cherish you." + +"What have you to say?" + +"Just this--that it'll all have to come out some time; you know to what +I allude." + +She did not look as if she knew. + +"Upon my word!" he ejaculated admiringly, "you do beat all." + +"Well, what are you talking of?" she asked. + +"In this world or the next, all you've done will be made public, you +know," he replied, not without tone of menace. "But what I want to speak +about now is Father Cameron. I've got him here, and I've never regretted +the bread and shelter I give him, for he's a real nice old gentleman; +but I can't help him going to people's houses and putting ideas into +their heads--no more than the wind, I can't keep him. He's crazed, poor +old gentleman, that's what he is." + +"You ought never to have brought him here." + +"_You'd_ rather he'd been stoned in Quebec streets?" He looked at her +steadily. "It's because they all more than half believe that he got his +ideas when dead, and then came to life again, that he gets into harm. If +it wasn't for that tale against him he'd not have been hurt in Quebec, +and he'd not be believed by the folks here." + +"I thought you believed that too." + +He gave her a peculiar smile. "If you was to say right out now in public +that you knew he wasn't the man they take him for, but only a poor +maniac who don't know who he is himself, you'd put an end to the most +part of his influence." + +"What do I know about it?" she asked scornfully; but, in haste to +divert him from an answer, she went on, "I don't see that he does any +harm, any way. You say yourself he's as good as can be." + +"So he is, poor gentleman; but he's mad, and getting madder. I don't +know exactly what's brewing, but I tell you this, there's going to be +trouble of some sort before long." + +"What sort?" + +"Well, for one thing, drunken Job is calling out in the rum-hole that +he'll kill his wife if he finds her up to any more religious nonsense; +and she is up to something of that sort, and he's quite able to do it, +too. I heard him beating her the other night." + +Eliza shuddered. + +"I'm a kind-hearted fellow, Miss White," he went on, with feeling in his +voice. "I can't bear to feel that there's something hanging over the +heads of people like her--more than one of them perhaps--and that +they're being led astray when they might be walking straight on after +their daily avocations." + +"But what can they be going to do?" she asked incredulously, but with +curious anxiety. + +"Blest if I know! but I've heard that old man a-praying about what he +called 'the coming of the Lord,' and talking about having visions of +'the day and the month,' till I've gone a'most distracted, for otherwise +he does pray so beautiful it reminds me of my mother. He's talking of +'those poor sheep in the wilderness,' and 'leading them' to something. +He's mad, and there's a dozen of them ready to do any mad thing he +says." + +"You ought to go and tell the ministers--tell the men of the town." + +"Not I--nice fool I'd look! What in this world have I to accuse him of, +except what I've heard him praying about? I've done myself harm enough +by having him here." + +"What do you want me to do then?" + +"Whatever you like; I've told you the truth. There was a carter at +Turrifs drunk himself to death because of this unfortunate Mr. Cameron's +rising again--that's one murder; and there'll be another." + +With that he turned on his heel and left her in his own room. He only +turned once to look in at the door again. "If _you're_ in any trouble, +I'm real soft-hearted, Eliza; I'll be real good to you, though you've +been crusty to me." + +If she was in trouble then, she did not show it to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Nothing contributes more frequently to indecision of character in the +larger concerns of existence than a life overcrowded with effort and +performance. Had Robert Trenholme not been living at too great a pace, +his will, naturally energetic, would not, during that spring and summer, +have halted as it did between his love for Sophia Rexford and his shame +concerning his brother's trade. With the end of June his school had +closed for the summer, but at that time the congregation at his little +church greatly increased; then, too, he had repairs in the college to +superintend, certain articles to write for a Church journal, interesting +pupils to correspond with--in a word, his energy, which sometimes by +necessity and sometimes by ambition had become regulated to too quick a +pace, would not now allow him to take leisure when it offered, or even +to perceive the opportunity. His mind, habituated to unrest, was +perpetually suggesting to him things needing to be done, and he always +saw a mirage of leisure in front of him, and went on the faster in order +to come up to it. By this mirage he constantly vowed to himself that +when the opportunity came he would take time to think out some things +which had grown indistinct to him. At present the discomfort and sorrow +of not feeling at liberty to make love to the woman he loved was some +excuse for avoiding thought, and he found distraction in hard work and +social engagements. With regard to Sophia he stayed his mind on the +belief that if he dared not woo she was not being wooed, either by any +man who was his rival, or by those luxuries and tranquillities of life +which nowadays often lure young women to prefer single blessedness. + +In the meantime he felt he had done what he could by writing again and +again, and even telegraphing, to Turrifs Station. It is a great relief +to the modern mind to telegraph when impatient; but when there is +nothing at the other end of the wire but an operator who is under no +official obligation to deliver the message at an address many miles +distant, the action has only the utility already mentioned--the relief +it gives to the mind of the sender. The third week in August came, and +yet he had heard nothing more from Alec. Still, Alec had said he would +come in summer, and if the promise was kept he could not now be long, +and Robert clung to the hope that he would return with ambitions toward +some higher sphere of life, and in a better mind concerning the +advisability of not being too loquacious about his former trade. + +In this hope he took opportunity one day about this time, when calling +on Mrs. Rexford, to mention that Alec was probably coming. He desired, +he said, to have the pleasure of introducing him to her. + +"He is very true and simple-heaped," said the elder brother; "and from +the photograph you have seen, you will know he is a sturdy lad." He +spoke with a certain air of depression, which Sophia judged to relate to +wild oats she supposed this Alec to be sowing. "He was always his dear +father's favourite boy," added Trenholme, with a quite involuntary sigh. + +"A Benjamin!" cried Mrs. Rexford, but, with that quickness of mind +natural to her, she did not pause an instant over the thought. + +"Well, really, Principal Trenholme, it'll be a comfort to you to have +him under your own eye. I often say to my husband that that must be our +comfort now--that the children are all under our eye; and, indeed, with +but one sitting-room furnished, and so little outing except in our own +fields, it couldn't well be otherwise. It's an advantage in a way." + +"A doubtful advantage in some ways," said Sophia; but the little +children were now heard crying, so she ran from the room. + +"Ah, Principal Trenholme," cried the little step-mother, shaking her +head (she was sewing most vigorously the while), "if my children will +but profit by _her_ example! But, indeed, I reproach myself that she is +here at all, although she came against my desire. Sophia is not involved +in our--I might say poverty, Principal Trenholme." (It was the +first-time the word had crossed her lips, although she always conversed +freely to him.) "When I see the farm producing so little in comparison, +I may say, in confidence, _poverty_; but Sophia has sufficient income of +her own." "I did not know that," said Trenholme, sincerely. "She came +with us, for we couldn't think of taking any of it for the house +expenses if she was away; and, as it's not large, it's the more +sacrifice she makes. But Sophia--Sophia might have been a very rich +woman if she'd married the man she was engaged to. Mr. Monekton was only +too anxious to settle everything upon her." + +Trenholme had positively started at these words. He did not hear the +next remark. The eight years just passed of Sophia's life were quite +unknown to him, and this was a revelation. He began to hear the talk +again. + +"My husband said the jointure was quite remarkable. And then the +carriages and gowns he would have given! You should have seen the jewels +she had! And poor Mr. Monekton--it was one month off the day the wedding +was fixed, for when she broke it off. Suddenly she would have none of +it." + +Trying to piece together these staccato jottings by what he knew of the +character of his love, Trenholme's mind was sore with curiosity about it +all, especially with regard to the character of Mr. Monckton. + +"Perhaps"--he spoke politely, as if excusing the fickleness of the +absent woman--"perhaps some fresh knowledge concerning the gentleman +reached Miss Rexford." + +"For many a year we had known all that was to be known about Mr. +Monckton," declared the mother, vigorously. "Sophia changed her mind. It +was four years ago, but she might be Mrs. Monckton in a month if she'd +say the word. He has never been consoled; her father has just received a +letter from him to-day begging him to renew the subject with her; but +when Sophia changes once she's not likely to alter again. There's not +one in a thousand to equal her." + +Trenholme agreed perfectly with the conclusion, even if he did not see +that it was proved by the premises. He went away with his mind much +agitated and filled with new anxieties. The fact that she had once +consented to marry another seemed to him to make it more probable that +she might do so again. He had allowed himself to assume that since the +time when he had seen her as a young girl, the admired of all, Sophia +had drifted entirely out of that sort of relation to society; but now, +by this sudden alarm, she seemed to be again elevated on some pinnacle +of social success beyond his reach. It struck him, too, as discouraging +that he should be able to know so little about a girl he had loved in a +vague way so long, and now for a time so ardently, and who had dwelt for +months at his very door. He blamed the conventionalities of society that +made it impossible for him to ask her the thousand and one questions he +fain would ask, that refused him permission to ask any until he was +prepared to make that offer which involved the explanation from which he +shrank so much that he would fain know precisely what degree of evil he +must ask her to face before he asked at all. He told himself that he +shrank not so much on account of his own dislike, as on account of the +difficulty in which his offer and explanation must place her if she +loved him; for if she was not bound strongly by the prejudices of her +class, all those she cared for certainly were. On the other hand, if she +did not love him, then, indeed, he had reason to shrink from an +interview that would be the taking away of all his hope. Who would not +wrestle hard with hope and fear before facing such an alternative? +Certainly not a man of Trenholme's stamp. + +It is a mistake to suppose that decision and fearlessness are always the +attributes of strength. Angels will hover in the equipoise of indecision +while clowns will make up their minds. Many a fool will rush in to woo +and win a woman, who makes her after-life miserable by inconsiderate +dealings with incongruous circumstance, in that very unbending temper of +mind through which he wins at first. Trenholme did not love the less, +either as lover or brother, because he shrank, as from the galling of an +old wound, when the family trade was touched upon. He was not a weaker +man because he was capable of this long suffering. That nature has the +chance to be the strongest whose sensibilities have the power to draw +nourishment of pain and pleasure from every influence; and if such soul +prove weak by swerving aside because of certain pains, because of +stooping from the upright posture to gain certain pleasures, it still +may not be weaker than the more limited soul who knows not such +temptations. If Trenholme had swerved from the straight path, if he had +stooped from the height which nature had given him, the result of his +fault had been such array of reasons and excuses that he did not now +know that he was in fault, but only had hateful suspicion of it when he +was brought to the pass of explaining himself to his lady-love. The +murmurs of an undecided conscience seldom take the form of definite +self-accusation. They did not now; and Trenholme's suspicion that he was +in the wrong only obtruded itself in the irritating perception that his +trouble had a ludicrous side. It would have been easier for him to have +gone to Sophia with confession of some family crime or tragedy than to +say to her, "My father was, my brother is, a butcher; and I have allowed +this fact to remain untold!" It was not that he did not intend to prove +to her that his silence on this subject was simply wise; he still +writhed under the knowledge that such confession, if it did not evoke +her loving sympathy, might evoke her merriment. + +That afternoon, however, he made a resolution to speak to Sophia before +another twenty-four hours had passed--a resolution which was truly +natural in its inconsistency; for, after having waited for months to +hear Alec's purpose, he to-day decided to act without reference to him. +At the thought of the renewed solicitation of another lover, his own +love and manliness triumphed over everything else. He would tell her +fully and frankly all that had made him hesitate so long, and of his +long admiration for her, and how dearly he now loved her. He would not +urge her; he would, leave the choice to her. This resolution was not +made by any impulsive yielding to a storm of feeling, nor in the calm of +determined meditation; he simply made up his mind in the course of that +afternoon's occupation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Trenholme went from Mrs. Rexford's door that same day to pay some visits +of duty in the village. The afternoon was warm, and exquisitely bright +with the sort of dazzling brightness that sometimes presages rain. On +his return he met a certain good man who was the Presbyterian minister +of the place. The Scotch church had a larger following in Chellaston +than the English. The clergyman and the minister were friends of a sort, +a friendship which was cultivated on chance occasions as much from the +desire to exercise and display large-mindedness as from the drawings of +personal sympathy. The meeting this afternoon led to their walking out +of the village together; and when the Scotchman had strolled as far as +the college gate, Trenholme, out of courtesy and interest in the +conversation, walked a mile further up the road with him. + +Very beautiful was the road on that bright summer day. They heard the +ripple of the river faintly where it was separated from them by the +Harmon garden and the old cemetery. Further on, the sound of the water +came nearer, for there was only the wilderness of half overgrown pasture +and sumac trees between them and it. Then, where the river curved, they +came by its bank, road and river-side meeting in a grove of majestic +pines. The ground here was soft and fragrant with the pine needles of +half a century; the blue water curled with shadowed wave against matted +roots; the swaying firmament was of lofty branches, and the summer wind +touched into harmony a million tiny harps. Minds that were not choked +with their own activities would surely here have received impressions of +beauty; but these two men were engaged in important conversation, and +they only gave impassive heed to a scene to which they were well +accustomed. + +They were talking about improvements and additions which Trenholme hoped +to get made to the college buildings in the course of a few years. The +future of the college was a subject in which he could always become +absorbed, and it was one sufficiently identified with the best interests +of the country to secure the attention of his listener. In this land, +where no church is established, there is so little bitterness existing +between different religious bodies, that the fact that the college was +under Episcopal management made no difference to the Presbyterian's +goodwill towards it. He sent his own boys to school there, admired +Trenholme's enthusiastic devotion to his work, and believed as firmly as +the Principal himself that the school would become a great university. +It was important to Trenholme that this man--that any man of influence, +should believe in him, in his college, and in the great future of both. +The prosperity of his work depended so greatly upon the good opinion of +all, that he had grown into the habit of considering hours well spent +that, like this one, were given to bringing another into sympathy with +himself in the matter of the next projected improvement. It was thus +that he had advanced his work step by step since he came to Chellaston; +if the method sometimes struck his inner self as a little sordid, the +work was still a noble one, and the method necessary to the quick +enlargement he desired. Both men were in full tide of talk upon the +necessity for a new gymnasium, its probable cost, and the best means of +raising the money, when they walked out of the pine shade into an open +stretch of the road. + +Soft, mountainous clouds of snowy whiteness were winging their way +across the brilliant blue of the sky. The brightness of the light had +wiped all warm colour from the landscape. The airy shadows of the clouds +coursed over a scene in which the yellow of ripened fields, the green of +the woods on Chellaston Mountain, and the blue of the distance, were +only brought to the eye in the pale, cool tones of high light. The road +and the river ran together now as far as might be seen, the one almost +pure white in its inch-deep dust, the other tumbling rapidly, a dancing +mirror for the light. + +The talkers went on, unmindful of dust and heat. Then a cloud came +between them and the sun, changing the hue of all things for the moment. +This lured them further. The oat harvest was ready. The reaping machines +were already in the fields far and near, making noise like that of some +new enormous insect of rattling throat. From roadside trees the cicada +vied with them, making the welkin ring. + +There were labourers at various occupations in the fields, but on the +dusty stretch of road there was only one traveller to be seen in front +of the two companions. When they gained upon him they recognised the old +preacher who went by the name of Cameron. The poor old wanderer had been +a nine days' wonder; now his presence elicited no comment. He was +walking cap in hand in the sunshine, just as he had walked in the winter +snow. To Trenholme the sight of him brought little impression beyond a +reminder of his brother's wayward course. It always brought that +reminder; and now, underneath the flow of his talk about college +buildings, was the thought that, if all were done and said that might +be, it was possible that it would be expedient for the future of the New +College that the present principal should resign. This was, of course, +an extreme view of the results of Alec's interference; but Trenholme had +accustomed himself to look at his bugbear in all lights, the most +extreme as well as the most moderate. _That_ for the future; and, for +immediate agitation, there was his resolution to speak to Sophia. As he +walked and talked, his heart was wrestling with multiform care. + +With one of those welcome surprises which Nature can bestow, the big +swinging cloud which had shadowed their bit of earth for a few minutes +and then passed off the sun again, now broke upon them in a heavy +shower. They saw the rain first falling on Chellaston Mountain, which +was only about a quarter of a mile distant, falling in the sunshine like +perpendicular rays of misty light; then it swept down upon them; but so +bright was the sunshine the while that it took them a few minutes to +realise that this dazzling shower could actually be wet. Its drenching +character was made apparent by the sight of field labourers running to a +great spreading maple for shelter; then they, literally having regard to +their cloth, ran also and joined the group. They passed the old man on +the road, but when they were all under the tree he also came towards it. + +There is no power in the art of words, or of painting, or of music, to +fully describe the perfect gratefulness of a shower on a thirsty day. +The earth and all that belongs to her thrill with the refreshing, and +the human heart feels the thrill just in so far as it is one with the +great plan of nature, and has not cut itself off from the whole by +egotism as a dead branch is cut. All under the tree were pleased in +their own way. The labourers cooled their sweating brows by wiping them +with the shirtsleeves the rain had wet; Trenholme and his friend saw +with contentment the dust laid upon their road, listened to the chirp of +birds that had been silent before, and watched the raindrops dance high +upon the sunny surface of the river. + +The old man came quietly to them. The rain falling through sunshine made +a silver glory in the air in which he walked saintlike, his hoary locks +spangled with the shining baptism. He did not heed that his old clothes +were wet. His strong, aged face was set as though looking onward and +upward, with the joyful expression habitual to it. + +Trenholme and his friend were not insensible to the picture. They were +remarking upon it when the old man came into their midst. There was +something more of keenness and brightness in his mien than was common to +him; some influence, either of the healing summer or of inward joy, +seemed to have made the avenues of his senses more accessible. + +"Sirs," he said, "do you desire the coming of the Lord?" + +He asked the question quite simply, and Trenholme, as one humours a +village innocent, replied, "We hope we are giving our lives to advance +His kingdom." + +"But the _King,_" said the old man. "He is coming. Do you cry to Him to +come quickly?" + +"We hope and trust we shall see Him in His own time," said Trenholme, +still benignly. + +"His own time is suddenly, in the night," cried the old man, "when the +Church is sleeping, when her children are planting and building, +selling, buying; and marrying--that is _His time_. We shall see Him. We +shall see His face, when we tell Him that we love Him; we shall hear His +voice when he tells us that He loves us. We shall see Him when we pray; +we shall hear Him give the answer. Sirs, do you desire that He should +come now, and reign over you?" + +The labourers bestirred themselves and came nearer. The old man had +always the power of transmitting his excitements to others, so that, +strangely, they felt it incumbent upon them to answer. One, a +dull-looking man, answered "yes," with conventional piety. Another said +sincerely that he would like to get the oats in first. Then, when the +first effect of the enthusiast's influence was passing off, they began +to rebel at having this subject thrust upon them. A youth said rudely +that, as there were two parsons there, Father Cameron was not called on +to preach. + +The old man fixed his questioning look on Trenholme. "He will come to +reign," he cried, "to exalt the lowly and meek, to satisfy the men who +hunger for righteousness; and the pure in heart shall live with Him. +Sir, do you desire that He shall come now?" + +Trenholme did not give answer as before. + +"Poor fellow," said the Presbyterian, pityingly. + +The shower was passing over, and they moved away. + +The old man lifted his arm, and pointed to the mountain that stood in +all the beauty of its wet verdure. He looked round upon them all, and +there was unusual show of excitement in his manner. + +"I have a message to you," he said. "Before another Lord's, day comes, +_He_ will come." + +The two ministers heard him as they walked away, and the Scotchman +thought to go back and reprove such an audacious word. + +"He is mad; they all know that he is mad," urged Trenholme, dissuading +him. + +They looked back, and saw the old man still preaching to the labourers +under the tree. A mare with its foal, and two half-grown colts, had come +up to an open fence within the tree's shadow, and, with their long +gentle heads hanging over, they too seemed to be listening. + +The Scotchman, exhilarated by the cooling of the atmosphere, genially +invited Trenholme to a longer walk. Chellaston Mountain, with its cool +shades and fine prospect, was very near. A lane turned from the high +road, which led to the mountain's base. A hospitable farmhouse stood +where the mountain path began to ascend, suggesting sure offer of an +evening meal. Trenholme looked at the peaceful lane, the beautiful hill, +and all the sunny loveliness of the land, and refused the invitation. He +had not time, he said. + +So they walked back the mile they had come, and Trenholme little thought +how soon, and with what agitation, he would pass that way again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +The next day, before Trenholme had had time to devise a plan for seeing +Miss Rexford, Mrs. Martha brought him a telegram. She watched him as he +drew his finger through the poor paper of the envelope, watched him as +one might watch another on the eve of some decisive event; yet she could +not have expected much from a telegram--they came too often. + +"Ha!" cried Trenholme, "we are going to have visitors, Mrs. Martha." + +A good deal to Trenholme's surprise, the message was from Alec, and from +a point no further away than Quebec. It stated that he was there with +Bates, who was ill, and he thought the best thing would be to bring him +with him to Chellaston, if his brother had house-room enough. + +The answers we give to such appeals are more often the outcome of +life-long habit than instances of separate volition. No question of what +answer to send occurred to Trenholme's mind as he pencilled his reply, +assuring a welcome to the sick man. + +When the answer was despatched he saw that, as fate had thrust the +notice of this arrival between him and the proposed interview with +Sophia; it would be better, after all, to wait only a day or two more, +until he knew his brother's mind. + +He heard nothing more from Alec that day. The day after was Saturday, +and it rained heavily. + +"What time will the gentlemen arrive?" asked Mrs. Martha, but not as if +she took much interest in the matter. + +"I can't tell," he replied. "They will probably let us know; but it's +best to be ready when guests may come any time, isn't it?" + +He asked her this with a cheering smile, because her manner was strange, +and he wished to rouse her to a sense of her duties. + +"Yes, sir; 'twouldn't seem like as if we was truly expecting and hoping +unless we did our best to be ready." + +The fervour of her answer surprised him. + +For some time past Winifred Rexford had been spending part of each +morning learning housewifery of Mrs. Martha. That day, because of the +rain, Trenholme insisted upon keeping her to dinner with him. He brought +her into his dining-room with playful force, and set her at the head of +his table. It was a great pleasure to him to have the child. He twitted +her with her improvement in the culinary art, demanding all sorts of +impossible dishes in the near future for his brother's entertainment. He +was surprised at the sedateness of her answers, and at a strange look of +excited solicitude that arose in her eyes. It seemed to him that she was +several times on the point of saying something to him, and yet she did +not speak. + +"What is it, Princess Win?" he cried. "What is in your mind, little +one?" + +He came to the conclusion that she was not very well. He got no +information from her on the subject of her health or anything else; but +thinking naturally that the change in the weather might have given her +cold, he took pains to wrap her in his own mackintosh and take her home +under his own large umbrella. + +When there, he went in. He was greatly cheered by the idea that, +although he might not tell his mind that day, he was now and henceforth +courting Sophia openly, whatever befell; but the open courting, since it +had only begun with his resolution of yesterday, and existed only in his +own intention, was naturally not recognised. He was received with the +ordinary everyday friendliness. But a change had occurred in the family +circumstances, nothing less than that they sat now in the long neglected +and still unfurnished room which went by the name of the drawing-room. +The windows had been thrown open, and the covering taken from the family +carriage. There it stood, still wheelless, but occupied now by Sophia +and Mrs. Rexford, the girls and the darning basket, while some of the +children climbed upon the box. Blue and Red, who were highly delighted +with the arrangement, explained it to Trenholme. + +"You see, we had a carriage we couldn't use, and a room we couldn't use +for want of furniture; so this rainy day, when we all were so tired of +the other room, mamma suddenly thought that we'd make the carriage do +for furniture. It's the greatest fun possible." They gave little jumps +on the soft cushions, and were actually darning with some energy on +account of the change. + +Trenholme shook hands with the carriage folk in the gay manner necessary +to the occasion, but his heart ached for the little mother who had thus +so bravely buried her last vestige of pride in the carriage by giving it +to her children as a plaything. + +"It's more comfortable than armchairs, and keeps the feet from the bare +floor," she said to him, in defiance of any criticisms he might have in +mind. But all his thought was with and for her, and in this he was +pleased to see that he had divined Sophia's mind, for, after adding her +warm but brief praise to the new arrangement, she changed the subject. + +Winifred went upstairs quietly. Trenholme suggested that he hardly +thought her looking quite well. + +"She's an odd child," said Sophia. "I did not tell you, mamma, what I +found her doing the other day. She was trying on the white frock she had +this spring when she was confirmed. It's unlike her to do a thing like +that for no reason; and when I teased her she began to cry, and then +began speaking to me about religion. She has been puzzled by the views +your housekeeper holds, Mr. Trenholme, and excited by old Cameron's +teaching about the end of the world." + +"I don't think it's the end of the world he's prophesying exactly," said +Trenholme, musingly. "The Adventists believe that the earth will not be +ruined, but glorified by the Second Advent." + +"Children should not hear of such abstruse, far-off things," observed +Mrs. Rexford; "it does harm; but with no nursery, no schoolroom, what +can one do?" + +Trenholme told them of Alec's telegram, and something of what he knew +concerning Bates. His own knowledge was scanty, but he had not even said +all he might have said when Mrs. Rexford politely regretted that her +husband and son, taking advantage of the rain, had both gone to the next +town to see some machinery they were buying, and would be away over +Sunday, otherwise they would not have missed the opportunity offered by +Sunday's leisure to call upon the newcomers. + +"Oh, he's quite a common working-man, I fancy," added Trenholme, +hastily, surprised at the gloss his words had thrown on Bates's +position, and dimly realising that his way of putting things might +perhaps at some other times be as misleading as it had just that moment +been. + +Then he went away rather abruptly, feeling burdened with the further +apologies she made with respect to Alec. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Trenholme went home and sat down to write an article for a magazine. Its +subject was the discipline of life. He did not get on with it very well. +He rose more than once to look at the weather-glass and the weather. +Rain came in torrents, ceasing at intervals. The clouds swept over, with +lighter and darker spaces among them. The wind began to rise. Thunder +was in the air; as it became dusk lightning was seen in the far +distance. + +A little after dark he heard a quick, light step upon the garden path. +The voice of the young dentist was audible at the door, and Mrs. Martha +ushered him into the study. Trenholme had felt more or less prejudice +against this fellow since he had become aware that he was in some way +connected with the incident that had discomforted his brother in his +lonely station. He looked at him with a glance of severe inquiry. + +"I'm _real_ sorry to disturb you," said the dentist; "but, upon my word, +I'm uneasy in my mind. I've lost old Mr. Cameron." + +It occurred to Trenholme now for the first time since he had heard of +Bates's coming that he, Bates, was the very man who could speak with +authority as to whether the old man in question had a right to the name +of Cameron. He wondered if the American could possibly have private +knowledge of Bates's movements, and knew that his coming could dispel +the mystery. If so, and if he had interest in keeping up the weird +story, he had done well now to lose his charge for the time being. Wild +and improbable as such a plot seemed, it was not more extraordinary than +the fact that this intensely practical young man had sought the other +and protected him so long. + +"Your friend is in the habit of wandering, is he not?" asked Trenholme, +guardedly. + +"Can't say that he is since he came here, Principal. He's just like a +child, coming in when it's dark. I've never"--he spoke with zeal--"I've +never known that good old gentleman out as late as this, and it's +stormy." + +"Did you come here under the idea that I knew anything about him?" + +"Well, no, I can't say that I did; but I reckoned you knew your Bible +pretty well, and that you were the nearest neighbour of mine that did." +There was an attempt at nervous pleasantry in this, perhaps to hide real +earnestness. + +Trenholme frowned. "I don't understand you." + +"Well, 'twould be strange if you did, come to think of it; but I'm +mighty uneasy about that old man, and I've come to ask you what the +Bible really does say about the Lord's coming. Whether he's crazed or +not, that old man believes that He's coming to-night. He's been telling +the folks all day that they ought to go out with joy to meet Him. I +never thought of him budging from the house till some _manifestation_ +occurred, which I thought _wouldn't_ occur, but when I found just now he +was gone, it struck me all of a heap that he was gone out with that +idea. I do assure you"--he spoke earnestly--"that's what he's after at +this very time. He's gone out to meet Him, and I came to ask +you--well--what sort of a place he'd be likely to choose. He knows his +Bible right off, that old gentleman does; he's got his notions out of +it, whether they're right or wrong." + +Trenholme stared at him. It was some time before the young man's ideas +made their way into his mind. Then he wondered if his apparent +earnestness could possibly be real. + +"Your application is an extraordinary one," he said stiffly. + +Harkness was too sensitive not to perceive the direction the doubt had +taken. "It may be extraordinary, but I do assure you it's genuine." + +As he grew to believe in the youth's sincerity, Trenholme thought he +perceived that, although he had asked what would be the probable +direction of the enthusiast's wanderings, the dentist was really +stricken with doubt as to whether the prediction might not possibly be +correct, and longed chiefly to know Trenholme's mind on that important +matter. + +"This crazy fellow is astray in his interpretation of Scripture," he +said, "if he believes that it teaches that the Second Advent is now +imminent; and his fixing upon to-night is, of course, quite arbitrary. +God works by growth and development, not by violent miracle. If you +study the account of our Lord's first coming, you see that, not only was +there long preparation, but that the great miracle was hidden in the +beautiful disguise of natural processes. We must interpret all special +parts of the inspired Word by that which we learn of its Author in the +whole of His revelation, otherwise we should not deal as reverently with +it as we deal with the stray words of any human author." + +The young man, if he did not understand, was certainly comforted by this +official opinion. + +"I'm glad to hear you look upon it in that light," he said approvingly, +"for, to tell the truth, if I thought the millennium was coming to-night +I'd be real scared, although I've lived better than most young men of my +age do; but, some way, the millennium isn't the sort of thing I seem to +hanker after very much. I suppose, though, people as good as you would +like nothing so well as to see it begin at once." + +Trenholme looked down at the sheet of paper before him, and absently +made marks upon it with his pen. He was thinking of the spiritual +condition of a soul which had no ardent desire for the advent of its +Lord, but it was not of the young man he was thinking. + +"Of course," the latter continued, "I didn't suppose myself there was +anything in it--at least"--candidly--"I didn't in the day-time; but when +I found he'd gone out in the dark, and thought of all the times I'd +heard him praying--" he broke off. "He's real good. I'm a better fellow +for having lived with him so long, but I wish to goodness I'd never +caught him." + +The word "caught," so expressive of the American's relation to the +wanderer, roused Trenholme's attention, and he asked now with interest, +"May I inquire why you did take possession of him and bring him here?" + +"Well, as to that, I don't know that I'd like to tell," said the young +man, frankly. "Since I've lived with him I've seen my reasons to be none +of the best." He fidgeted now, rising, cap in hand. "I ought to go and +look after him," he said, "if I only knew where to go." + +It struck Trenholme that Harkness had an idea where to go, and that his +questioning was really a prelude to its announcement. "Where do _you_ +think he has gone?" + +"Well, if you ask me what I think, Principal--but, mind, I haven't a +word of proof of it--I think he's gone up the mountain, and that he's +not gone there alone." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I think drunken Job's wife, and old McNider, and some more +of the Second Advent folks, will go with him, expecting to be caught +up." + +"Impossible!" cried Trenholme, vehemently. Then more soberly, "Even if +they had such wild intentions, the weather would, of course, put a stop +to it." + +Harkness did not look convinced. "Job's threatened to beat his wife to +death if she goes, and it's my belief she'll go." + +He twirled his hat as he spoke. He was, in fact, trying to get the +responsibility of his suspicions lightened by sharing them with +Trenholme at this eleventh hour, but his hearer was not so quickly +roused. + +"If you believe that," he said coolly, "you ought to give information to +the police." + +"The police know all that I know. They've heard the people preaching and +singing in the streets. I can't make them believe the story if they +don't. They'd not go with me one step on a night like this--not one +step." + +There was a short silence. Trenholme was weighing probabilities. On the +whole, he thought the police were in the right of it, and that this +young man was probably carried away by a certain liking for novel +excitement. + +"In any case," he said aloud, "I don't see what I can do in the matter." + +Harkness turned to leave as abruptly as he had come in. "If you don't, I +see what I can do. I'm going along there to see if I can find them." + +"As you are in a way responsible for the old man, perhaps that is your +duty," replied Trenholme, secretly thinking that on such roads and under +such skies the volatile youth would not go very far. + +A blast of wind entered the house door as Harkness went out of it, +scattering Trenholme's papers, causing his study lamp to flare up +suddenly, and almost extinguishing it. + +Trenholme went on with his writing, and now a curious thing happened. +About nine o'clock he again heard steps upon his path, and the bell +rang. Thinking it a visitor, he stepped to the door himself, as he often +did. There was no one there but a small boy, bearing a large box on his +shoulders. He asked for Mrs. Martha. "Have you got a parcel for her?" +said Trenholme, thinking his housekeeper had probably retired, as she +did not come to the door. The boy signified that he had, and made his +way into the light of the study door. Trenholme saw now, by the label on +the box, that he had come from the largest millinery establishment the +place could boast. It rather surprised him that the lean old woman +should have been purchasing new apparel there, but there was nothing to +be done but tell the boy to put out the contents of the box and be gone. +Accordingly, upon a large chair the boy laid a white gown of delicate +material, and went away. + +Trenholme stood contemplating the gown; he even touched it lightly with +his hand, so surprised he was. He soon concluded there was some +mistake, and afterwards, when he heard the housekeeper enter the kitchen +from the garden door, he was interested enough to get up with alacrity +and call to her. "A gown has come for you, Mrs. Martha," he cried. Now, +he thought, the mistake would be proved; but she only came in soberly, +and took up the gown as if it was an expected thing. He bade her +good-night. "Good-night," said she, looking at him. There was a red spot +on each of her thin, withered cheeks. He heard her footstep mounting her +bedroom staircase, but no clue to the mystery of her purchase offered +itself to mitigate his surprise. Had she not been his housekeeper now +for six years, and during that time not so much as a trace of any vagary +of mind had he observed in her. + +About an hour afterwards, when he had gone into the next room to look +for some papers, he heard quiet sounds going on in the kitchen, which +was just at the rear end of the small hall on which the room doors +opened. A moment more and he surmised that his housekeeper must have +again descended for something. "Are you there, Mrs. Martha?" he called. +There was no answer in words, but hearing the kitchen door open, he +looked into the lobby, and there a strange vision flashed on his sight. +His end of the lobby was dark, but in the kitchen doorway, by the light +of the candles she held, he saw his elderly housekeeper arrayed in the +pure white gown. + +He paused in sheer astonishment, looking at her, and he observed she +trembled--trembled all over with the meek courage it cost her to thus +exhibit herself; for she appeared to have opened the door for no other +purpose than to let him see her. She said nothing, and he--most men are +cowards with regard to women--he had a vague sense that it was his duty +to ask her why she wore that dress, but he did not do it. He had no +reason to suppose her mad; she had a perfect right to array herself in +full dress at night if she chose; she was a great deal older than he, a +woman worthy of all respect. This was the tenor of his thought--of his +self-excusing, it might be. He bade her good-night again, somewhat +timidly. Surely, he thought, it was her place to make remark, if remark +were needful; but she stood there silent till he had gone back into the +room. Then she shut the kitchen door. + +In a little while, however, as stillness reigned in the house, some +presentiment of evil made him think it would be as well to go and see if +Mrs. Martha had finished trying on her finery and gone to bed as usual. +He found the kitchen dark and empty. He went to the foot of her stairs. +There was no chink of light showing from her room. The stillness of the +place entered into his mind as the thin edge of a wedge of alarm. "Mrs. +Martha!" he called in sonorous voice. "Mrs. Martha!" But no one +answered. He opened the back-door, and swept the dark garden with the +light of his lamp, but she was not there. Lamp in hand, he went +upstairs, and passed rapidly through the different rooms. As he entered +the less frequented ones, he began to fear almost as much to see the +gaily-attired figure as he would have done to see a ghost. He did not +know why this feeling crept over him, but, whether he feared or hoped to +see her, he did not. The house was empty, save for himself. The night +blast beat upon it. The darkness outside was rife with storm, but into +it the old woman must have gone in her festal array. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Trenholme went out on the verandah. At first, in the night, he saw +nothing but the shadowy forms of the college building and of the trees +upon the road. It was not raining at the moment, but the wind made it +hard to catch any sound continuously. He thought he heard talking of +more than one voice, he could not tell where. Then he heard wheels begin +to move on the road. Presently he saw something passing the trees--some +vehicle, and it was going at a good pace out from the village. Shod +though he was only in slippers, he shut his door behind him, and ran +across the college grounds to the road; but the vehicle was already out +of sight, and on the soft mud he could hear no further sound. + +Trenholme stood hardly knowing what to think. He wore no hat; the damp, +cool air was grateful to his head, but he gave no thought to it. Just +then, from the other way of the road, he heard a light, elastic step and +saw a figure that, even in the darkness, he could not fail to know. + +"Sophia!" There was fear in his voice. + +"Have you seen Winifred?" she cried. + +"Winifred? No," he called, back. + +"What are you doing here?" she asked, breathless. She never noticed that +he had called her by name. The abruptness of her own question was +evidently atoned for by some necessity the nature of which he had not +yet entirely grasped. Yet a knowledge, gleaned too late from all the +occurrences of the evening, leaped up within him to anticipate her +tidings. + +"Winifred has gone out since dark. Whether she is alone or not I don't +know, but she has gone to the mountain. She means to climb it to-night +because they have told her that--that----" + +His lady-love stopped. Voice and language seemed alike to fail her when +she essayed to tell him, and he, awed at the thought of hearing such +sacred words from her lips, awed to think that the sword of this +fanaticism had come so near as to strike the pure young girl who was so +dear to them both, took her pause as if it had told him everything. + +"How do you know?" His words were brief and stern. + +She was walking on, he thought merely from excitement. As he kept up +with her he perceived, more by quickness of sympathy than by any sign, +that, in her effort to speak, she had begun to weep. She walked erect, +giving no heed to her own tears nor lifting a hand to wipe them, only at +first her throat refused to articulate a reply, and when she spoke it +was quickly, a word or two at a time, as though she feared her voice +would be traitor to her. + +"She left a paper for me." And then she added, "She wrote on it--what +she was afraid to say--dear child!" + +He was silent a moment, listening with bowed head lest she should tell +more. He thought he saw her now dash the tears from her face. She was +walking fast, and he felt that she must not go further, also that he had +no time to lose; so he told her hastily that he thought his housekeeper +had gone also to the mountain, and why he thought so. He said that he +hoped and believed Winifred would be with her, and that it was not many +minutes since they had driven away. He would go at once, hoping to +overtake them on the difficult ascent, and Miss Rexford, he said, must +go home and send her father and brother to aid him in his search. + +She never stopped in her steady walk. "You know they are not at home." + +He was shocked to remember it. "Never mind!" he cried, "I will go with +your authority. I will bring her back." + +Still she did not waver in her walk. She spoke thickly out of her tears. +"You may go to find this woman who has worked for you so long; I will go +for Winifred." + +"You must not come," he said almost harshly. "It is far too late; it is +far too wet." + +He stopped to make her stop, but she only went on, getting much in +front. Then he ran up to her, laid his hand on her arm, and implored her +not to go. + +There was nothing in his words or action that was precisely loverlike, +nor did such likeness occur to her; but in the restraint he put upon the +lover in him, his manner appeared to assume the confidence and ease of a +perfect friendship, and she, scarce noting much how he spoke or acted, +still felt that this advance of his gave her a new liberty to tell him +that she scorned his friendship, for she had something of that sort +seething in her mind concerning him. As to his request just then, she +merely said she would go on. + +He was very urgent. "Then I will not go," he said, stopping again. "You +can't go without me, and if my going involves your going, it is better +not to go." He did not mean what he said, but he hoped to move her. + +"You can go or stay as you think right," she said. "I am going to get +Winifred, poor lamb. I am not in the least afraid to go alone. I have +got a pistol in my belt." + +So he went with her. They both walked fast. The road was wide and muddy, +and the night was very dark. + +Trenholme noticed now for the first time that he walked in slippers; he +would as soon have thought of turning back on this account as he would +have thought of stopping if thorns and briars had beset his path. He +felt almost as if it were a dream that he was walking thus, serving the +woman he loved; but even as he brooded on the dreamlike strangeness of +it, his mind was doing its practical work. If Winifred and Mrs. Martha +were in the vehicle he had seen, what time they would gain while driving +on the road they would be apt to lose by their feebleness on the +mountain path, which he and Sophia could ascend so much more lightly. +Wherever their goal, and whatever their purpose, he was sanguine that he +would find and stop them before they joined the main party. He +communicated the grounds of this hope to his companion. His heart was +sore for his lady's tears. He had never before seen her weep. They had +passed the cemetery, and went forward now into the lonelier part of the +road. Then Trenholme thought of the warning Harkness had given him about +the drunkard's violence. The recollection made him hasten on, forgetting +that his speed was almost too great for a woman. + +In the stir of events we seldom realise to the full the facts with which +we are dealing, certainly never perceive at first their full import. +Trenholme, however, after some minutes of tramping and thinking, felt +that he had reason for righteous indignation, and became wroth. He gave +vent to strictures upon superficiality of character, modern love of +excitement, and that silly egotism that, causing people to throw off +rightful authority, leaves them an easy prey to false teachers. He was +not angry with Winifred--he excepted her; but against those who were +leading her astray his words were harsh, and they would have flowed more +freely had he not found language inadequate to express his growing +perception of their folly. + +When he had talked thus for some time Sophia answered, and he knew +instantly, from the tone of her voice, that her tears had dried +themselves. + +"Are you and I able to understand the condition of heart that is not +only resigned, but eager to meet Him Whom they hope to meet--able so +fully to understand that we can judge its worth?" + +He knew her face so well that he seemed to see the hint of sarcasm come +in the arching of her handsome eyebrows as she spoke. + +"I fear they realise their hope but little," he replied. "The excitement +of some hysterical outbreak is what they seek." + +"It seems to me that is an ungenerous and superficial view, especially +as we have never seen the same people courting hysterics before," she +said; but she did not speak as if she cared much which view he took. + +Her lack of interest in his opinion, quite as much as her frank reproof, +offended him. They walked in silence for some minutes. Thunder, which +had been rumbling in the distance, came nearer and every now and then a +flash from an approaching storm lit up the dark land with a pale, vivid +light. + +"Even setting their motives at the highest estimate," he said, "I do not +know that you, or even I, Miss Rexford, need hold ourselves incapable of +entering into them." This was not exactly what he would have felt if +left to himself, but it was what her upbraiding wrung from him. He +continued: "Even if we had the sure expectation for to-night that they +profess to have, I am of opinion that we should express our devotion +better by patient adherence to our ordinary duties, by doing all we +could for the world up to the moment of His appearing." + +"Our ordinary duties!" she cried; "_they_ are always with us! I dare say +you and I might think that the fervour of this night's work had better +have been converted into good works and given to the poor; but our +opinion is not specially likely to be the true one. What do we know? +Walking here in the dark, we can't even see our way along this road." + +It was an apt illustration, for their eyes were becoming so dazzled by +the occasional lightning that they could make no use of its brief flash, +or of the faint light of night that was mingled in the darkness of the +intervals. + +Although he smarted under the slight she put upon him, he was weary of +opposing her, because he loved her. "I am sorry that nothing I say meets +with your approval," he said sadly. + +It was lack of tact that made him use the personal tone when he and she +had so far to travel perforce together, and she, being excited and much +perturbed in spirit, had not the grace to answer wisely. + +"Happily it matters little whether what you say pleases me or not." + +She meant in earnestness to depreciate herself, and to exalt that higher +tribunal before which all opinions are arraigned; still, there was in +the answer a tinge of spite, telling him by the way that it did not +distress her to differ with him. It was not wonderful that Trenholme, +self-conscious with the love she did not guess at, took the words only +as a challenge to his admiration. + +"Indeed you wrong me. It was long ago I proved the value I put upon your +advice by acting upon it in the most important decision of my life." + +She had so long tacitly understood what her influence over him at that +time had been that she could not now be much affected by the avowal. + +"Indeed, if you recklessly mistook the advice of a vain child for +wisdom, it is to be hoped that Providence has shaped your ends for you." + +He did not understand her mood; he only thought of protesting his long +loyalty to her. "It is true," said he, "that Providence has done more +for me than I have done for myself; but I have always been glad to +attribute my coming here to your beneficent influence." + +Her heart was like flint to him at that moment, and in his clumsiness he +struck sparks from it. + +"Yet when I remember how you tried to explain to me then that the poor +parish in which you were working might be offering the nobler life-work +for you, I think that you were wiser than I. In their serious moments +people can judge best for themselves, Mr. Trenholme." + +He had noticed that, in the rare times she addressed him by name, she +never used his big-sounding title of Principal. This little habit of +hers, differently read before, seemed now like a clue to guide him to +the meaning of her last remark, partly wrapped as it was in her +politeness. He was no dullard; once on the track of her thought, he soon +came up with her. In surprise he faced her insinuation squarely. + +"You mean to tell me that you think I have not done well." + +Half startled, she could think of no answer but the silence that gives +consent. + +"Is it for myself or others I have done ill?" he asked. + +"The world here speaks loudly of your exertions on its behalf; I have +never doubted the truth of its report." + +"Then you consider that I myself am not what you would wish?" There was +neither anger nor graciousness in his tone. His mind, arrested, merely +sought to know further, and feeling had not yet arisen. + +"You alarm me," she said coldly. "I had no thought of bringing these +questions upon myself." + +But it was of moment to him to know her mind. + +"I spoke inadvisedly," she added. + +"Yet you spoke as you thought?" he asked. + +Fast as they were walking, she could not but notice that they were in +the pine grove now, close by the river. Here the gale was loud, +reminding her afresh of the loneliness of the place, and, as she felt +the force of his question pressing upon her, all her energies rushed in +anger to her self-defence. + +"Yes, I said what I thought; but I ask your pardon for any truthfulness. +Question me no further." + +His stronger will was also roused. In bitterness of spirit he told her +that he had a right to know her full meaning. He plied her with +questions. When in steady tramp they came out on the open stretch of +road between the pines and the mountain, over the noise of the swollen +river he heard what she thought of him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +That afternoon Alec Trenholme had essayed to bring his friend John Bates +to Chellaston. Bates was in a very feeble state, bowed with asthma, and +exhausted by a cough that seemed to be sapping his life. Afraid to keep +him longer in the lodging they had taken in Quebec, and in the stifling +summer heat that was upon, the narrow streets of that city, but +uncertain as to what length of journey he would be able to go, Alec +started without sending further notice. + +As the hours of travel wore on, Bates's dogged pluck and perseverance +had to give way to his bodily weakness, but they had reached a station +quite near Chellaston before he allowed himself to be taken out of the +train and housed for the night in a railway inn. In his nervous state +the ordeal of meeting fresh friends seemed as great, indeed, as that +involved in the remaining journey. So it came to pass that at dusk on +that same evening, Alec Trenholme, having put his friend to bed, joined +the loungers on the railway platform in front of the inn, and watched +lightning vibrate above the horizon, and saw its sheet-like flames light +up the contour of Chellaston Mountain. He did not know what hill it was; +he did not know precisely where he was in relation to his brother's +home; but he soon overheard the name of the hill from two men who were +talking about it and about the weather. + +"How far to Chellaston?" asked Alec. + +They told him that it was only nine miles by road, but the railway went +round by a junction. + +Alec began to consider the idea of walking over, now that he had +disposed of Bates for the night. + +"Is the storm coming this way?" he said. + +The man who had first answered him pointed to another. "This gentleman," +he said, "has just come from Chellaston." + +As the remark did not seem to be an answer to his question about the +weather, Alec waited to hear its application. It followed. + +The first man drew a little nearer. "He's been telling us that the +Adventists--that means folks that are always expecting the end of the +world--all about Chellaston believe the end's coming to-night." + +Alec made an exclamation. It was a little like hearing that some one +sees a ghost at your elbow. The idea of proximity is unpleasant, even to +the incredulous. "Why to-night?" he asked. + +"Well, I'll say this much of the notion's come true," said the native of +Chellaston hastily--"it's awful queer weather--not that I believe it +myself," he added. + +"Has the weather been so remarkable as to make them think that?" asked +Alec. + +"'Tain't the weather _made_ them think it. He only said the weather +weren't unlike as if it were coming true." As the first man said this, +he laughed, to explain that he had nothing to do with the tale or its +credence, but the very laugh betrayed more of a tendency to dislike the +idea than perfect indifference to it would have warranted. + +In defiance of this laugh the Chellaston man made further explanation. +He said the religious folks said it was clearly written in the Book of +Daniel (he pronounced it Dannel); if you made the days it talks of +years, and the weeks seven years, the end must come about this time. At +first folks had calculated it would be 1843, but since then they had +found they were thirty years out somehow. + +"That would make it this year," agreed the first man. Some others that +had gathered round laughed in chorus. They vented some bad language to; +but the Chellaston man, excited with his tale, went on. + +"All the Advent folks believe that. They believe all the good folks will +be caught up in the air; and after that they're to come back, and the +world will be just like the Garden of Eden for a thousand years." + +He was casting pearls before swine, for some of his hearers chanted +gibes. "Is that so?" they sang, to the notes of a response in Church +music. + +Night had closed in black about them. All on the platform had come +together in close group. The wind-blown light of the station lamp was on +their faces. In the distance the smouldering storm rumbled and flashed. + +"All religious folks believe that," continued the speaker, a little +scornfully, "and the Advents think it'll be now; but old Cameron we've +had in Chellaston for a year, he tells them it'll be to-night." + +Alec Trenholme had by this time received his brother's letters. "A +year!" interrupted he almost fiercely. "Didn't he come in January?" + +The narrator drew in the horns of his exaggeration. "D'ye know all about +him, for there's no use telling if you do?" + +"I only thought you might be talking about an old man heard went there +then." + +"He a'most died, or did really, somewhere below Quebec; and then he got +up and preached and prayed, and his folks wouldn't keep him, so he +wandered everywhere, and a kind young man we have at our place took him +in and keeps him. When he was in the other world he heard the Judgment +would happen to-night. Would that be the same man you know?" + +"It will be the same man." + +"Did you know his people?" asked the other curiously. + +But Alec had no thought of being questioned. He brought the speaker back +to his place as historian, and he, nothing loth, told of the intended +meeting on the mountain, and of the white ascension robes, in his +ignorant, blatant fashion, laying bare the whole pathetic absurdity of +it. + +Two ribald listeners, who had evidently been in some choir, paced arm in +arm, singing the responses to the Litany in melodramatic fashion, except +when their voices were choked with loud laughter at their own wit. + +Pushed by the disagreeableness of these surroundings, and by keen +interest in the old man who had once visited him, Alec decided on the +walk. The mountain was nearer than the village; he hoped to reach it in +time. He was told to keep on the same road till he came to the river, to +follow its bank for about a mile, and when he saw the buildings of a +farm just under the hill, to turn up a lane which would lead him by the +house to the principal ascent. He walked out into the night. + +At first he was full of thoughts, but after walking a while, fatigue and +monotony made him dull. His intelligence seemed to dwell now in his +muscles rather than in his brain. His feet told him on what sort of a +road he was walking; by his fatigue he estimated, without conscious +thought, how far he had walked. + +When he had gone for nearly two hours the storm had come so much nearer +that the lightning constantly blinded his eyes. He heard now the rushing +of the river, and, as he turned into the road by its side, he saw the +black hill looming large. Nothing but the momentum of a will already +made up kept his intention turned to the climb, so unpropitious was the +time, so utterly lonely the place. As it was, with quiescent mind and +vigorous step, he held on down the smooth road that lay beside the +swollen river. + +Some way farther, when the water had either grown quieter or his ear +accustomed to the sound, human voices I became audible, approaching on +the road. Perhaps they might have been two or three hundred yards away +when he first heard them, and from that moment his mind, roused from its +long monotony, became wholly intent upon those who were drawing near. + +It was a woman's voice he heard, and before he could see her in the +least, or even hear her footsteps in the soft mud, the sense of her +words came to him. She was, evidently speaking under the influence of +excitement, not loudly, but with that peculiar quality of tone which +sometimes makes a female voice carry further than is intended. She was +addressing some companion; she was also walking fast. + +"There _was_ a time when I thought you were ambitious, and would +therefore do great things." + +There was an exquisite edge of disdain in her tone that seemed to make +every word an insult that would have had power, Alec thought, to wither +any human vanity on which it might fall. + +Some reply, she received--he could not hear it--and she went on with +such intensity in her voice that her words bore along the whole current +of Alec's thought with them, though they came to him falling out of +darkness, without personality behind them. + +"We may _call_ it ambition when we try to climb trees, but it is not +really so for us if we once had mountain-tops for our goal." + +Again came a short reply, a man's voice so much lower in key that again +he could not hear; and then: + +"Yes, I have wasted years in tree climbing, more shame to me; but even +when I was most willing to forget the highest, I don't think a little +paltry prosperity in the commonplace atmosphere of a colony would have +tempted me to sell my birthright." + +The man she was rating answered, and the clear voice came proudly again: + +"You have at least got the pottage that pleases you--you are a success +in this Canadian world." + +Just then the soft, wet sound of feet tramping in mud came to him, and +apparently the sound of his own feet was heard also, for the talking +stopped until he had passed them. He discerned their figures, but so +dimly he could hardly have told they were man and woman had he not known +it before by their voices. They were walking very fast, and so was he. +In a moment or two they were out of sight, and he had ceased to hear +their footsteps. Then he heard them speak again, but the wind blew their +words from him. + +The tones, the accent, of the woman who had been speaking, told that she +was what, in good old English, used to be called a lady. Alec Trenholme, +who had never had much to do with well-bred women, was inclined to see +around each a halo of charm; and now, after his long, rough exile, this +disposition was increased in him tenfold. Here, in night and storm, to +be roused from the half lethargy of mechanical exercise by the +modulations of such a voice, and forced by the strength of its feeling +to be, as it were, a confidant--this excited him not a little. For a few +moments he thought of nothing but the lady and what he had heard, +conjecturing all things; but he did not associate her with the poor +people he had been told were to meet that night upon the mountain. + +Roused by the incident, and alert, another thought came quickly, +however. He was getting past the large black hill, but the lane turning +to it he had not found. Until he now tried with all his might to see, he +did not fully know how difficult seeing was. + +The storm was not near enough to suggest danger, for there was still +more than a minute between each flash and its peal. As light rain +drifted in his face, he braced himself to see by the next flash and +remember what he saw; but when it came he only knew that it reflected +light into the pools on the road in front of him, and revealed a black +panorama of fence and tree, field and hill, that the next moment, was +all so jumbled in his mind that he did not know where to avoid the very +puddles he had seen so clearly, and splashed on through them, with no +better knowledge of his way, and eyes too dazzled to see what otherwise +they would have seen. In this plight he did not hesitate, but turned and +ran after the two he had met, to ask his way, thinking, as he did so, +that he must have already passed the lane. + +With some effort he caught them up. They must have heard him coming, for +their voices were silent as he approached. He asked for the lane to +Cooper's Farm, which he had been told was the name of the house at the +foot of the mountain path. They both hesitated in their walk. The man, +who ought to have answered, seemed, for some reason, suddenly dumb. +After waiting impatiently, the lady took upon herself to reply. She said +they had not yet reached the turning to the farm. She remarked that they +were going to the same place. + +Then they went on again, and he, too, walked quickly, supposing that he +could soon pass them and get in front. It is not the matter of a moment, +however, to pass people who are walking at a rate of speed almost equal +to one's own. He had the awkwardness of feeling, that, whether he would +or no, he was obliged to intrude upon them. He noticed they were not +walking near together; but when one is tramping and picking steps as +best one can in mud that is hidden in darkness, it is, perhaps, more +natural that two people on a wide road should give one another a wide +berth. At any rate, for a minute all three were making their way through +puddles and over rough places in silence. Then, when Alec thought he had +got a few paces in advance, he heard the lady speak again, and of +himself. + +"Did you think you knew that man?" + +There was no answer. Alec felt angry with her companion that he should +dare to sulk so obviously. After a minute or two more of fast walking, +she said again: + +"I can't think where he has gone to. Do you see him anywhere?" + +To this again there was no answer. Alec naturally went the quicker that +he might get out of hearing. As he did so he wondered much that his +fellow-travellers went so fast, or rather that the lady did, for she, +although some way behind, seemed to keep very near to him. + +On they went in silence for ten minutes more, when the lady again took +up her reproachful theme. Her voice was quieter now, but amid the +harmonious sounds of wind and river he still heard it distinctly. The +clear enunciation of her words seemed to pierce through the baffling +noises of the night as a ray of light pierces through darkness, albeit +that there was excitement in her tones, and her speech was, interspersed +with breathless pauses. + +"I have been rude; but you insisted upon my rudeness, now you are +offended by it. So be it--let me say something else! I don't much +believe now in all the sentiment that used to seem so noble to me about +forgetting oneself. No thoughtful person _can_ forget himself, and no +candid person says he has done it. What we need is to think _more_ of +ourselves--to think so much of ourselves that all aims but the highest +are beneath us--are impossible to our own dignity. What we chiefly need +is ambition." + +She stopped to take breath. It seemed to Alec she came near enough to +see him as she continued. He could think of nothing, however, but what +she was saying. He felt instinctively that it was because of haste and +some cause of excitement, not in spite of them, that this lady could +speak as she now did. + +"Christianity appeals to self-regard as the motive of our best action," +she went on, giving out her words in short sentences, "so there must be +a self-regard which is good--too good to degrade itself to worldly +ends; too good even to be a part of that amalgam--the gold of +unselfishness and the alloy of selfishness--which makes the _ordinary_ +motive of the _ordinary_ good man." + +Her voice seemed to vibrate with scorn on the emphasized words. + +"If we desired to live nearer heaven--" she said, and then she stopped. + +Alec turned perforce to tell her, what she must now perceive, that he +was still close to them; but this impulse was checked by a sudden +thought. Was she not addressing himself? Was there another man now with +her? + +He stopped, looked backward, listened. He was quite alone with the lady, +who went past him now, only looking, as she walked, to see why he was +tarrying. In his fierce young loyalty to her he took for granted, +without question or proof, that her escort had deserted her in revenge +for her disdain. He would willingly have gone back to fetch him up, but +the impossibility of finding a man who did not wish to be found, the +impossibility, as it seemed to him, of letting her go further alone, the +boorishness of calling after her--all this constrained him to follow. He +ran to make his communication gently, and, as he ran, courage to make it +failed him. He thought of her as delicately accustomed to incessant +protection. At the thought of letting her know that she was telling her +thoughts to a stranger, that she was alone at such hour and place with +him, his throat swelled. He hated to speak words that would be so +hateful to her; and when he came by her side breathless, and she spoke +to him again, he walked on, waiting till she should stop, trying to +formulate what he had to say, listening and watching intently for some +sign of the recreant. Again speaking as though she must unburden her +mind, she turned into the lane. Over its fences he peered down the dark +main road, but neither in flash nor interval could the other man be +seen. He had not the slightest notion what the lady was saying now; +lofty philosophy or practical sarcasm it might be, it was all lost in +his exaggerated idea of what her fear and dismay would be when he spoke. + +Before he had a chance to speak, however, he saw, in dark outline, the +building of the farm to which he supposed her to be going. It would be a +thousand times better to conduct her in silence to the door, which was +now so near. To tell her before could serve no end, for even if she +should wish to return to seek her late companion she could there obtain +an escort. So, with feeling of guiltiness in the part he was acting, and +in the surly silence he assumed, Alec let her lead up the lane she must +know better than he. Her previous speeches, which he had followed so +closely, were only remembered now to give food for conjecture as to who +she might be and what relation she held to her late companion. The +interest in his own journey and its extraordinary object were lost for +the time in the excitement of his knight-errantry. + +He was astonished to see that the house, as they neared it, showed no +sign of life and light. The lady, whether inmate or guest, must surely +be expected; but the very roofs of the house and huge barns seemed to +droop in slumber, so black was the whole place and closely shut. Alec +was looking out for the house gate in order to step forward and open it, +when, to his utter surprise, he saw that the lady with haste passed it, +and went on toward the hill. + +He stopped with hand on the gate and called her. + +"What is the matter?" she asked, checking her walk. "Are you ill? What +is it?" + +He supposed that his strange voice would tell her all, but, although she +was evidently puzzled, to his further astonishment, she did not realise +that he was a stranger. + +"Why do you speak like that?" she asked. And she talked on rapidly about +some waggon she expected to find at the foot of the path. She went on, +in fact, as if unable to endure the loss of time; and he, thinking of +the waggon and waggoner as a further point of safety for her, ran after. +In a minute they both came out of the lane on a small common. Here were +two horses tied under a tree and an open waggon with its shafts laid +down. + +"Call the man," she said. + +To Alec's call a man came sleepily from a small barn that was near. He +said he had brought about a dozen women in the waggon, and they had gone +up the hill. Impatiently she demanded of him how long it was since they +had started to walk, and heard it was about a quarter of an hour. She +went on once more, with what seemed to Alec incredible speed. But this +time he gave way to no further indecision. Where she had darted under +the trees he followed in her path. + +They were just under the covert of the first trees on a steep footpath +when he stopped her, and above him she turned, listening. The scent of +moss and fern and overhanging leaf was sweet. So perfect a woodland +bower was the place, so delicate did the lady seem to his imagination, +that he wished he could tell his concern for her alarm and readiness to +devote himself to her cause. But when he saw her shrink from him, he +could only stand awkwardly, tell her in a few clumsy words that he and +the other man had changed places, he did not know how, and he had +thought to take her to the farm. + +"Your voice is very like his," she said, looking at him strangely. + +But he now knew certainly, what for the last hour had seemed to him +almost impossible, that in very truth the religious assembly was to take +place that night; and the thought of it, and of the strange excitement +with which others had gone before them on that same path took from Alec, +and, he supposed, from the lady also, the power to give much +consideration to their own strange encounter. When he had told her of +the time he had seen old Cameron at prayer in the lone wintry fields, +and how far he had just walked to see him again in the strange +conditions of to-night, they climbed on together. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +There is nothing of which men take less heed than the infection of +emotion, a thing as real as that mysterious influence which in some +diseases leaps forth from one to another till all are in the same pain. +With the exception, perhaps, of the infection of fear, which societies +have learnt to dread by tragic experience, man still fondly supposes +that his emotions are his own, that they must rise and fall within +himself, and does not know that they can be taken in full tide from +another and imparted again without decrease of force. May God send a +healthful spirit to us all! for good or evil, we are part of one +another. + +There were a good many people who went up the mountain that night to +find the enthusiasts, each with some purpose of interference and +criticism. They went secure in their own sentiments, but with minds +tickled into the belief that they were to see and hear some strange +thing. They saw and heard not much, yet they did not remain wholly their +own masters. Perhaps the idea that Cameron's assembly would be well +worth seeing was gleaned partly from the lingering storm, for an +approaching storm breeds in the mind the expectation of exciting +culmination, but long before the different seekers had found the meeting +place, which was only known to the loyal-hearted, the storm, having +spent itself elsewhere, had passed away. + +There was an open space upon a high slope of the hill. Trees stood above +it, below, around--high, black masses of trees. It was here old +Cameron's company had gathered together. No woodland spot, in dark, damp +night, ever looked more wholly natural and of earth than this. Sophia +Rexford and Alec Trenholme, after long wandering, came to the edge of +this opening, and stopped the sound of their own movements that they +might look and listen. They saw the small crowd assembled some way off, +but could not recognise the figures or count them. Listening intently, +they heard the swaying of a myriad leaves, the drip of their moisture, +the trickle of rivulets that the rain had started again in troughs of +summer drought, and, amidst all these, the old man's voice in accents of +prayer. + +Even in her feverish eagerness to seek Winifred, which had sustained her +so long, Sophia chose now to skirt the edge of the wood rather than +cross the open. As they went through long grass and bracken, here and +there a fallen log impeded their steps. A frog, disturbed, leaped before +them in the grass; they knew what it was by the sound of its falls. +Soon, in spite of the rustle of their walking, they began to hear the +old man's words. + +It seemed that he was repeating such passages of Scripture as ascribe +the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Whether these were strung together in +a prayer, or whether he merely gave them forth to the night air as the +poetry on which he fed his soul, they could not tell. The night was much +lighter now than when the storm hung over. They saw Cameron standing on +a knoll apart from his company, his face upturned to the cloudy sky. +Beyond him, over the lower ranks of trees, the thunder cloud they had +feared was still visible, showing its dark volume in the southern sky by +the frequent fiery shudderings which flashed through its length and +depth; but it had swept away so far that no sound of its thunder touched +their air; and the old man looked, not at it but at the calm, +cloud-wrapped sky above. + +"The Son of Man is coming in the clouds of heaven with power, and great +glory." + +The words fell upon the silence that was made up of the subdued sounds +of nature; it seemed to breathe again with them; while their minds had +time to be taken captive by the imagery. Then he cried, + +"He shall send His angels with a trumpet, and a great voice, and they +shall gather the elect upon the four winds. Two shall be in the fields; +one shall be taken and the other left." He suddenly broke off the +recitation with a heartpiercing cry. "My Lord and my God! Let none of +Thy children here be left. Let none of those loved ones, for whom they +have come here to entreat Thee, be among those who are left. Let it +suffice Thee, Lord, that these have come to meet Thee on Thy way, to ask +Thee that not one of their beloved may be passed over now, when Thou +comest--_Now!_" + +The last word was insistent. And then he passed once more into the +prayer that had been the burden of his heart and voice on the night that +Alec had first met him. That seemed to be the one thought of his poor +crazed brain--"Come, Lord Jesus!" + +The little band were standing nearer the trees on the upper side of the +open. They seemed to be praying. Sophia came to the end of the +straggling line they formed, and there halted, doubtful. She did not +advance to claim her sister; she was content to single out her childish +figure as one of a nearer group. She tarried, as a worshipper who, +entering church at prayer-time, waits before walking forward. Alec stood +beside his unknown lady, whose servitor he felt himself to be, and +looked about him with no common interest. About thirty people were clad +in white; there were a few others in ordinary clothes; but it was +impossible to tell just how many of these latter were there or with what +intent they had come. A young man in dark clothes, who stood near the +last comers peered at them very curiously: Alec saw another man sitting +under a tree, and gained the impression, from his attitude, that he was +suffering or perplexed. It was all paltry and pitiful outwardly, and +yet, as he looked about, observing this, what he saw had no hold on his +mind, which was occupied with Cameron's words; and under their +influence, the scene, and the meaning of the scene, changed as his mood +changed in sympathy. + +A hymn began to rise. One woman's voice first breathed it; other voices +mingled with hers till they were all singing. It was a simple, swaying +melody in glad cadence. The tree boughs rocked with it on the lessening +wind of the summer night, till, with the cumulative force of rising +feeling, it seemed to expand and soar, like incense from a swinging +censer, and, high and sweet, to pass, at length through the cloudy walls +of the world. The music, the words, of this song had no more of art in +them than the rhythmic cry of waves that ring on some long beach, or the +regular pulsations of the blood that throbs audibly, telling our sudden +joys. Yet, natural as it was, it was far more than any other voice of +nature; for in it was the human soul, that can join itself to other +souls in the search for God; and so complete was the lack of form in the +yearning, that this soul came forth, as it were, unclothed, the more +touching because in naked beauty. + + "Soon you will see your Saviour coming, + In the air." + +So they sang. This, and every line, was repeated many times. It was only +by repetition that the words, with their continuity of meaning, grew in +ignorant ears. + + "All the thoughts of your inmost spirit + Will be laid bare, + If you love Him, He will make you + White and fair." + +Then the idea of the first line was taken up again, and then again, with +renewed hope and exultation in the strain. + + "Hark! you may hear your Saviour coming." + +It was a well-known Adventist hymn which had often roused the hearts of +thousands when rung out to the air in the camp meetings of the northern +States; but to those who heard it first to-night it came as the +revelation of a new reality. As the unveiling of some solid marble +figure would transform the thought of one who had taken it, when +swathed, for a ghost or phantom, so did the heart's desire of these +singers stand out now with such intensity as to give it objective +existence to those who heard their song. + +Into the cloud-walled heaven they all looked. It is in such moments that +a man knows himself. + +Old Cameron, lifting up his strong, voice again, was bewailing the sin +of the world. "We sinners have not loved Thee, O Christ. We have not +trusted Thy love. We have not been zealous for Thy glory. This--this is +our sin. All else Thou would'st have mended in us; but this--this is our +sin. Have mercy! Have mercy! Have mercy!" Long confession came from him +slowly, bit by bit, as if sent forth, in involuntary cries, from a heart +rent by the disappointment of waiting. In strong voice, clear and true, +he made himself one with the vilest in this pleading, and all the vices +with which the soul of man has degraded itself were again summed up by +him in this--"We have not loved Thee. We have not trusted Thy love. We +are proud and vain; we have loved ourselves, not Thee." + +How common the night was--just like any other night! The clouds, as one +looked at them, were seen to swing low, showing lighter and darker +spaces. How very short a time can we endure the tensest mood! It is like +a branding iron, which though it leaves its mark forever, cannot be +borne long. The soul relaxes; the senses reclaim their share of us. + +Some men came rather rudely out from under the trees, and loitered near. +Perhaps all present, except Cameron, noticed them. Alec did; and felt +concerning them, he knew not why, uneasy suspicion. He noticed other +things now, although a few minutes before he had been insensible to all +about him. He saw that the lady he waited upon had dropped her face into +her hands; he saw that her disdainful and independent mood was melted. +Strangely enough, his mind wandered back again to her first companion, +and he wondered that she had not sent back for him or mourned his +absence. He was amazed now at his own assumption that design, not +accident, had caused such desertion. He could almost have started in +his solicitude, to seek the missing man, such was the rebound of his +mind. Yet to all this he only gave vagrant thoughts, such as we give to +our fellows in church. The temple of the night had become a holy place, +and his heart was heavy--perhaps for his old friend, standing there with +uplifted face, perhaps on account of the words he was uttering, perhaps +in contrition. In a few minutes he would go forward, and take the old +preacher by the arm, and try, as he had once tried before, to lead him +to rest and shelter from so vain an intensity of prayer. But just now he +would wait to hear the words he said. He could not but wait, for so +dull, so silent, did all things remain, that the earnestness of the +expectant band made itself felt as an agony of hope waning to despair. + +Absorbed in this, Alec heard what came to him as harsh profane speech; +and yet it was not this; it was the really modest address of a young man +who felt constrained to speak to him. + +"I don't know," he said nervously (his accent was American), "who _you_ +may be, but I just wish to state that I've a sort of notion one of those +fellows right down there means mischief to one of these poor ladies in +white, who is his wife. I ain't very powerful myself, but, I take it, +you're pretty strong, aren't you?" + +Alec gave impatient assent; but the men whom he was asked to watch +approached no nearer to the women but remained behind the preacher. + +All this time old Cameron prayed on, and while it might be that hope in +his followers was failing, in his voice there was increasing gladness +and fervour. + +The clouds above shifted a little. To those wrapped in true anticipation +their shifting was as the first sign of a descending heaven. Somewhere +behind the thick clouds there was a crescent moon, and when in the upper +region of the sky a rift was made in the deep cloud cover, though she +did not shine through, the sky beyond was lit by her light, and the +upper edges of cloud were white as snow. + +As the well of clear far light was opened to the old man's gaze, his +prayer stopped suddenly, and he stood only looking upwards. They did not +see so much as know from the manner in which his voice had failed, that +for him, at least, there were moments of ecstasy in the assurance of +hope. + +"Poor fellow!" muttered Alec under his breath, for he felt the poignant +disappointment of the awakening. + +A sweet sound made some of them turn an instant toward the wood, for a +little bird, disturbed in its hiding there, lilted forth a twittering +song of joy. + +Its notes had not ceased when Alec heard a gasp of terror from the lady +near him, and saw, as one sees an act there is no time to avert, that +one of the rough fellows who were standing behind the old man had +suddenly struck him down by a savage blow upon the head. + +Alec Trenholme ran and sprang upon the man who had struck the blow. Some +other man, he did not see which, wrested the club from the fellow's +hand. In the moments Alec was grappling with him he became conscious +that the old man lying near his feet on the grass was more to him than +revenge, and, with the caprice of a boy who turns from what interests +him less to what interests him more, he contented himself with hurling +the assailant from him, so that he fell heavily down the sloping ground +to where his companions stood. Then Alec pushed others aside and lifted +the wounded man. + +Wounded? His hair was wet with warm blood. There was something done--a +good deal done, by many people--to restore him. Alec remembered +afterwards that the young man who had previously spoken to him had been +active, showing a more personal solicitude than was seen in the awed +kindness even of the women. One lives through such scenes with little +real perception of their details. He knew at last for certain that he +put his burden from him, and throwing himself down laid his ear on the +broad, muscular breast. Long as he listened, there was no movement +there. The mad old preacher was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +When Alec Trenholme rose from the dead man's side he felt his shoulder +taken hold of by a familiar hand. He knew at once that it was his +brother. It was quite what he would have expected, that Robert should be +there; it was surely his business to come after straying sheep. + +The manslayer, awed and sobered by finding what he had done, had been +easily overpowered. Even his comrades helped to bind him. He was a poor +creature at best, and was now in the misery that comes with sudden +reaction from the exaltation of strong drink. + +Alec saw that his brother was limping, that he seemed in actual pain; he +was anxious to know how this was, yet he did not say so. He asked rather +if Robert thought that the old man had consciously awakened from his +trance of expectation, and they both, in spite of all that pressed, +stooped with a lantern some one had lit to look again at the dead face. +Just as he might have looked when the heavens seemed to open above him, +so he looked now. They talked together, wondering who he really was, as +men find words for what is easiest to say, although not relevant to the +moment's necessity. + +So absorbing is the interest of death to those who live in peaceful +times that, now that there was a lamp, all there required to slake their +curiosity by lingering gaze and comment before they would turn away. +Even the prisoner, when he saw the lantern flashed near the face of the +dead, demanded to be allowed to look before they led him down the hill. +His poor wife, who had expected his violence to fall only on herself, +kept by him, hysterically regretting that she had not been the victim. + +Yet, although all this had taken place, it was only a short time before +the energy of a few, acting upon the paralysed will of others, had +cleared the ground. The white-dressed women crossed the open to the +descending path, huddling together as they walked, their eyes perforce +upon the rough ground over which they must pick their steps. There was +many a rift now in the breaking clouds above them, but only a few turned +an upward passionate glance. Sophia moved away in their midst. Seeing +her thus surrounded, Alec did not feel that he need approach. + +"I don't know who she is," he said, pointing her out to Robert. "I +happened, in a queer way, to come up here with her." He paused a moment. +Some sentiment such as that she was a queen among women was in his mind, +but it did not rise to his lips. "She would like your help better than +mine," he added. "If you will see that she and her little sister are +taken care of, I will stay here"--he gave a gesture toward the +corpse--"till a stretcher comes." + +"I will do my best to take care of them all," Robert Trenholme answered +with a sigh. + +Old McNider and his little boy walked behind the women. Robert, limping +as he went, lifted the sleepy child in his arms and joined himself to +the company. They went under the dripping trees, down, down the dark, +slippery path. The white robes hardly glimmered in the darkness. Some of +the women wept; some of them held religious conversation, using such +forms of expression as grow up among certain classes of pious, people +and jar terribly on unaccustomed ears. Those who talked at this time had +less depth of character than those who were silent, and there was +evinced in their conversation a certain pride of resistance to +criticism--that is, they wished to show that if what they had looked for +had not come that night, their expectation of it bad been reasonable, +and that their greatest hopes would shortly be realised to the +confounding of unbelievers. They did not know the manner of their +spirit. Few who indulge in demonstration of piety as a relief to +feeling ever perceive how easily the natural passions can flow into this +channel. + +Jesus wished to try their faith, said they, but they would not cast away +their lamps; no, they must keep them trimmed and burning. They could not +live unless they felt that dear Jesus might come for them any night. + +"Blessed be His holy Name!" cried one. "When He comes the world will see +Him Whom they have despised, and His saints they have looked down on, +too, reignin' together in glory. Yes, glory be to Jesus, there'll be a +turnin' of the tables soon." + +To Trenholme it seemed that they bandied about the sacred name. He +winced each time. + +One woman, with more active intellect than some of the rest, began to +dilate on the signs already in the world which proved the Second Advent +was near. Her tone was not one of exulted feeling, but of calm reason. +Her desire was evidently to strengthen her sisters who might be cast +down. In her view all the ages of the history of the vast human race +were seen in the natural perspective which makes things that are near +loom larger than all that is far. The world, she affirmed, was more evil +than it had ever been. In the Church there was such spiritual death as +never before. The few great revivals there were showed that now the poor +were being bidden from the highways to the marriage feast. And above all +else, it was now proved that the coming of the Lord was nigh, because +bands of the elect everywhere were watching and waiting for the great +event. Her speech was well put forth in the midst of the weary descent. +She did not say more than was needed. If there were drooping hearts +among her friends they were probably cheered. + +Then some more emotional talkers took up the exultant strain again. It +was hard for Trenholme not to estimate the inner hearts of all these +women by the words that he heard, and therefore to attribute all the +grace of the midnight hour to the dead. + +When they got to the bottom of the hill, the farmer, at the request of +men who had gone first, had another waggon in readiness to take home the +women who had come to the hill on foot or who had sent away their +vehicles. Many of them did not belong to the village of Chellaston. It +was evidently better that the lighter waggon which had come from +Chellaston should go round now to the outlying farms, and that all the +villagers should return in that provided by the farmer. Trenholme put in +the child, who was now sleeping, and helped in the women, one by one. +Their white skirts were wet and soiled; he felt this as he aided them to +dispose them on the straw which had been put in for warmth. The farmer, +an Englishman, made some wise, and not uncivil, observations upon the +expediency of remaining at home at dead of night as compared with +ascending hills in white frocks. He was a kind man, but his words made +Winifred's tears flow afresh. She shrank behind the rest. Trenholme +kissed her little cold hand when he had put her in. Then, last of all, +he helped Sophia. + +She had no words ready now to offer him by which to make amends. "You +have hurt your foot?" she said. + +He told her briefly that his foot had twisted under him, so that at +first he had not been able to come on for the sprain, and he clasped her +hand as he bade the waggon drive on. + +Feeling the lack of apology on her own part she thought he had shown +himself the greater, in that he had evidently pardoned her without it. + +He did not feel himself to be great. + +The cart jolted away. Trenholme stood in the farmyard. The light of a +lantern made a little flare about the stable door. The black, huge +barns, around seemed to his weary sense oppressive in their nearness. +The waggon disappeared down the dark lane. The farmer talked more +roughly, now that kindness no longer restrained him, of the night's +event. Trenholme leaned against a white-washed wall, silent but not +listening. He almost wondered he did not faint with the pain in his +ankle; the long strain he had put upon the hurt muscle rendered it +almost agonising, but faintness did not come: it seldom does to those +who sigh for it, as for the wings of a dove, that they may go far away +with it and be at rest. The farmer shut the stable door, put out the +light, and Trenholme limped out the house with him to wait for his +brother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +All this time Alec was walking, like a sentry, up and down beside the +old man's corpse. He was not alone. When the others had gone he found +that the young American had remained with him. He came back from the +lower trees whence he had watched the party disappear. + +"Come to think of it," he said, "I'll keep you company." + +Something in his manner convinced Alec that this was no second thought; +he had had no intention of leaving. He was a slight fellow, and, +apparently too tired now to wish to stand or walk longer, he looked +about him for a seat. None offered in the close vicinity of the corpse +and Alec, its sentinel; but, equal to his own necessity, he took a +newspaper from his pocket, folded it into a small square, laid it on the +wet beaten grass, and sat thereon, arching his knees till only the soles +of his boots touched the ground. To Alec's eye his long, thin figure +looked so odd, bent into this repeated angle, that he almost suspected +burlesque, but none was intended. The youth clasped his hands round his +knees, the better to keep himself upright, and seated thus a few yards +from the body, he shared the watch for some time as mute as was all else +in that silent place. + +Alec's curiosity became aroused. At last he hesitated in his walk. + +"You are from the States?" + +"Well, yes; I am. But I reckon I'm prouder of my country than it has +reason to be of me. I'm down in the mouth to-night--that's a fact." + +A fine description of sorrow would not have been so eloquent, but +exactly what he sorrowed for Alec did not know. It could hardly be for +the death merely. + +Alec paced again. He had made himself an uneven track in the ragged +grass. Had the lineaments of the dead been more clearly seen, death +would have had a stronger influence; but even as it was, death, +darkness, and solitude had a language of their own, in which the hearts +of the two men shared more or less. + +At length the American spoke, arresting Alec's walk. + +"See here," he said, "if what they say is true--and as far as I know it +is--he's got up from being dead _once_ already." + +The emphasis on the word "once" conveyed the suggestion which had +evidently just occurred to him. + +"Oh, I know all about _that_ story." Alec spoke with the scorn of +superior information, casting off the disagreeable suggestion. "I was +there myself." + +"You were, were you? Well, so was I, and I tell you I know no more than +babe unborn whether this old gentleman's Cameron or not." + +Alec's mind was singularly free from any turn for speculative thought. +He intended to bring Bates to see the dead in the morning, and that +would decide the matter. He saw no sense in debating a question of fact. + +"I was one of the fellows in that survey," explained Harkness, "and if +you're the fellow we saw at the station, as I reckon you are, then I +don't know any more about this old gentleman I've been housing than you +do." + +Trenholme had an impulse to command silence, but, resisting it, only +kept silence himself and resumed his tread over the uneven ground. + +"'Tisn't true," broke in the other again, in unexpected denial of his +own words, "that that's all I know. I know something more; 'tisn't much, +perhaps, but as I value my soul's salvation, I'll say it here. Before I +left the neighbourhood of Turrifs, I heard of this old gentleman here +a-making his way round the country, and I put in currency the report +that he was Cameron, and I've no doubt that that suggestion made the +country folks head him off towards Turrifs Station as far as they could +influence his route; and that'll be how he came there at Christmas time. +Look you here! I didn't know then, and I don't know now, whether he +_was_ or _wasn't_--I didn't think he was--but for a scheme I had afoot I +set that idea going. I did it by telegraphing it along the line, as if +I'd been one of the operators. The thing worked better than I expected." + +Alec listened without the feeling of interest the words were expected to +arouse. To his mind a fellow who spoke glibly about his soul's salvation +was either silly or profane. He had no conception that this man, whose +way of regarding his own feelings, and whose standard of propriety as to +their expression, differed so much from his own, was, in reality, going +through a moral crisis. + +"Well?" said he. + +"Well, I guess that's about all I have to say." + +"If you don't know anything more, I don't see that you've told me +anything." He meant, anything worth telling, for he did not feel that he +had any interest with the other's tricks or schemes. + +"I do declare," cried Harkness, without heeding his indifference, "I'm +just cut up about this night's affair; I never thought Job would set on +anyone but his wife. I do regret I brought this good old gentleman to +this place. If some one offered me half Bates's land now, I wouldn't +feel inclined to take it." + +Trenholme returned to his pacing, but when he had passed and re-passed, +he said, "Cameron doesn't seem to have been able to preach and pray like +an educated man; but Bates is here, he will see him to-morrow, and if he +doesn't claim the body, the police will advertise. Some one must know +who the old man is." + +The words that came in return seemed singularly irrelevant. "What about +the find of asbestos the surveyor thought he'd got on the hills where +Bates's clearing is? Has Bates got a big offer for the land?" + +"He has had some correspondence about it," said Trenholme, stiffly. + +"He'll be a rich man yet," remarked the American, gloomily. "Asbestos +mines are piling in dollars, I can tell you. It's a shame, to my mind, +that a snapping crab-stick like that old Bates should have it all." He +rose as with the irritation of the idea, but appeared arrested as he +looked down at the dead man. "And when I think how them poor ladies got +their white skirts draggled, I do declare I feel cut up to that extent I +wouldn't care for an asbestos mine if somebody came and offered it to me +for nothing this minute." + +Then, too absorbed in feeling to notice the bathos of his speech, he put +his hands in his pockets, and began strolling up and down a beat of his +own, a few yards from the track Trenholme had made, and on the other +side of the dead. + +As they walked at different paces, and passing each other at irregular +times, perhaps the mind of each recurred to the remembrance of the other +ghostly incident and the rumour that the old man had already risen once. +The open spot of sloping ground surrounded by high black trees, which +had been so lately trodden by many feet, seemed now the most desolate of +desolate places. The hymn, the prayer, that had arisen there seemed to +leave in the air only that lingering influence which past excitement +lends to its acute reaction. + +A sudden sharp crack and rustling, coming from out the gloom of the +trees, startled them. + +"Ho!" shouted the American. "Stand! Is there any one there?" + +And Alec in his heart called him a fool for his pains, and yet he +himself had not been less startled. Nothing more was heard. It was only +that time--time, that mysterious medium through which circumstance comes +to us from the source of being; that river which, unseen, unfelt, +unheard, flows onward everywhere--had just then brought the moment for +some dead branch to fall. + + +END OF BOOK II. + + + + +BOOK III. + +"_Nothing is inexorable but Love_." + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +That which is to be seen of any event, its causes and consequences, is +never important compared with the supreme importance of those unseen +workings of things physical and things spiritual which are the heart of +our life. The iceberg of the northern seas is less than its unseen +foundations; the lava stream is less than the molten sea whence it +issues; the apple falling to the ground, and the moon circling in her +orbit, are less than the great invisible force which controls their +movements and the movements of all the things that do appear. The crime +is not so great as its motive, nor yet as its results; the beneficent +deed is not so great as the beneficence of which it is but a fruit; yet +we cannot see beneficence, nor motives, nor far-reaching results. We +cannot see the greatest forces, which in hidden places, act and +counteract to bring great things without observation; we see some broken +fragments of their turmoil which now and again are cast up within our +sight. + +Notwithstanding this, which we all know, the average man feels himself +quite competent to observe and to pass judgment on all that occurs in +his vicinity. In the matter of the curious experience which the sect of +the Adventists passed through in Chellaston, the greater part of the +community formed prompt judgment, and in this judgment the chief element +was derision. + +The very next day, in the peaceful Sunday sunshine, the good people of +Chellaston (and many of them were truly good) spent their breath in +expatiating upon the absurdity of those who had met with the madman upon +the mountain to pray for the descent of heaven. It was counted a good +thing that a preacher so dangerously mad was dead; and it was +considered as certain that his followers would now see their folly in +the same light in which others saw it. It was reported as a very good +joke that when one white-clad woman had returned to her home, wan and +weary, in the small hours of the night, her husband had refused to let +her in, calling to her from an upper window that _his wife_ had gone to +have a fly with the angels, and he did not know who _she_ might be. +Another and coarser version of the same tale was, that he had taken no +notice of her, but had called to his man that the white cow had got +loose and ought to be taken back into the paddock. Both versions were +considered excellent in the telling. Many a worthy Christian, coming out +of his or her place of worship, chuckled over the wit of this amiable +husband, and observed, in the midst of laughter, that his wife, poor +thing, had only got her deserts. + +In the earlier hours of that Sunday morning rumour had darted about, +busily telling of the sudden freak the drunkard's violence had taken, +and of Father Cameron's death. Many a version of the story was brought +to the hotel, but through them the truth sifted, and the people there +heard what had really occurred. Eliza heard, for one, and was a good +deal shocked. Still, as the men about the place remarked that it was a +happy release for Father Cameron, who had undoubtedly gone to heaven, +and that it was an advantage, too, to Job's wife, who would now be saved +from further torment at her husband's hands, her mind became +acquiescent. For herself, she had no reason to be sorry the old man was +dead. It was better for him; it was better for her, too. So, without +inward or outward agitation, she directed the morning business of the +house, setting all things in such order that she, the guiding hand of it +all, might that afternoon take holiday. + +Some days before she had been invited by Mrs. Rexford to spend this +afternoon with them and take tea. Then, as it was said that Principal +Trenholme, in spite of a sprained ankle, had insisted upon taking the +Church services as usual, all the fine ladies at the hotel intended to +go and hear him preach in the evening. Eliza would go too. This +programme was highly agreeable to her, more so than exciting amusement +which would have pleased other girls better. Although nothing would have +drawn expression of the fact from her, in the bottom of her deeply +ambitious heart she felt honoured by the invitations Miss Rexford +obtained for her, and appreciated to the full their value. She also knew +the worth of suitable attendance at church. + +Sunday was always a peaceful day at Chellaston. Much that was truly +godly, and much that was in truth worldly, combined together to present +a very respectable show of sabbath-keeping. The hotel shared in the +sabbath quiet, especially in the afternoon, when most people were +resting in their rooms. + +About three o'clock Eliza was ready to go to her room on the third story +to dress for the afternoon. This process was that day important, for she +put on a new black silk gown. It was beflounced and befrilled according +to the fashion of the time. When she had arranged it to a nicety in her +own room, she descended to one of the parlours to survey herself in the +pier-glass. No one was there. The six red velvet chairs and the uniform +sofa stood in perfect order round the room. The table, with figured +cloth, had a large black Bible on it as usual. On either side of the +long looking-glass was a window, in which the light of day was somewhat +dulled by coarse lace curtains. Abundance of light there was, however, +for Eliza's purpose. She shut the door, and pushed aside the table which +held the Bible, the better to show herself to herself in the +looking-glass. + +Eliza faced herself. She turned and looked at herself over one shoulder; +then she looked over the other shoulder. As she did so, the curving +column of her white neck was a thing a painter might have desired to +look at, had he been able to take his eyes from the changeful sheen on +her glossy red hair. But there was no painter there, and Eliza was +looking at the gown. She walked to the end of the room, looking backward +over her shoulder. She walked up the room toward the mirror, observing +the moving folds of the skirt as she walked. She went aside, out of the +range of the glass, and came into it again to observe the effect of +meeting herself as though by chance, or rather, of meeting a young woman +habited in such a black silk gown, for it was not in herself precisely +that Eliza was at the moment interested. She did not smile at herself, +or meet her own eyes in the glass. She was gravely intent upon looking +as well as she could, not upon estimating how well she looked. + +The examination was satisfactory. Perhaps a woman more habituated to +silk gowns and mantua-makers would have found small wrinkles in sleeve +or shoulder; but Eliza was pleased. If the gown was not perfect, it was +as good a one as she was in the habit of seeing, even upon gala +occasions. And she had no intention of keeping her gown for occasions; +her intention was that it should be associated with her in the ordinary +mind of the place. Now that she was fortunate enough to possess silk +(and she was determined this should only be the forerunner of a +succession of such gowns) people should think of her as Miss White, who +wore silk in the afternoons. She settled this as she saw how well the +material became her. Then, with grave care, she arranged a veil round +the black bonnet she wore, and stood putting on new gloves preparatory +to leaving the room. Eliza was not very imaginative; but had she been +disposed to foresee events, much as she might have harassed herself, she +would not have been more likely to hit upon the form to be taken by the +retributive fate she always vaguely feared than are the poor creatures +enslaved by fearful imaginations. + +The door opened, and Harkness thrust his handsome head into the room. He +was evidently looking for her. When he saw her he came in hastily, +shutting the door and standing with his back to it, as if he did not +care to enter further. + +Eliza had not seen him that day. After what had happened, she rather +dreaded the next interview, as she did not know what he might find to +say; but the instant she saw him, she perceived that it was something +more decisive than he had ever shown sign of before. He looked tired, +and at the same time as if his spirit was upwrought within him and his +will set to some purpose. + +"I'm real glad to see you," he said, but not pleasantly. "I've been +looking for you; and it's just as well for you I found you without more +ado." + +"I'm just going out," said Eliza; "I can't stay now." + +"You'll just stop a bit where you are, and hear what I'm going to say." + +"I can't," said she, angrily; but he was at the door, and she made no +movement towards it. + +He talked right on. "I'm going away," he said. "I've packed up all that +I possess here in this place, and I'm going to depart by this +afternoon's train. No one much knows of this intention. I take it you +won't interfere, so I don't mind confiding my design to your _kind_ and +_sympathetic_ breast." + +The emphasis he laid on the eulogy was evidently intended for bitter +sarcasm. Anger gave her unwonted glibness. + +"I'll ask you to be good enough to pay our bill, then. If you're making +off because you can't pay your other debts it's no affair of mine." + +He bowed mockingly. "You are real kind. Can't think how much obliged I +am for your tactful reminder; but it don't happen to be my financial +affairs that I came to introdooce to your notice." He stammered a +moment, as if carried rather out of his bearings by his own loquacity. +"It's--it's rather _your_ finances that I wish to enlarge upon." + +She opposed herself to him in cold silence that would not betray a gleam +of curiosity. + +"You're a mighty fine young lady, upon my word!" he observed, running +his eye visibly over her apparel. "Able to work for yourself, and buy +silk skirts, and owning half a bit of ground that people are beginning +to think will be worth something considerable when they get to mining +there. Oh, you're a fine one--what with your qualities and your +fortune!" + +A sudden unbecoming colour came with tell-tale vehemence over her cheek +and brow. + +"Your qualities of mind, as I've remarked, are fine; but the qualities +of your heart, my dear, are finer still. I've been making love to you, +with the choicest store of loving arts, for eight long months; and the +first blush I've been enabled to raise on your lovely countenance is +when I tell you you've more money than you looked for! You're a +tender-hearted young lady!" + +"The only train I ever heard of on Sunday afternoon goes pretty soon," +she said; and yet there was now an eager look of curiosity in her eyes +that belied her words. + +He took no notice of her warning, but resumed now with mock apology. +"But I'm afraid I'm mistaken in the identity. Sorry to disappoint you, +but the estate I allude to belongs to Miss Cameron, who lived near a +locality called Turrifs Station. Beg pardon, forgot for the moment your +name was White, and that you know nothing about that interesting and +historic spot." + +Perhaps because she had played the part of indifference so long, it +seemed easiest to her, even in her present confusion of mind; at any +rate she remained silent. + +"Pity you weren't her, isn't it?" He showed all his white teeth. He had +been pale at first, but in talking the fine dark red took its wonted +place in his cheeks. He had tossed back his loose smoke-coloured hair +with a nervous hand. His dark beauty never showed to better advantage as +he stood leaning back on the door. "Pity you aren't her, isn't it?" he +repeated, smilingly. + +She had no statuesque pose, but she had assumed a look of insensibility +almost equal to that of stone. + +"Come to think of it, even if you were her, you'd find it hard to say so +now; so, either way, I reckon you'll have to do without the tin. 'Twould +be real awkward to say to all your respectable friends that you'd been +sailing under false colours; that 'White' isn't your _bona fide_ +cognomen; that you'd deserted a helpless old woman to come away; and as +to _how you left your home_--the sort of _carriage_ you took to, my +dear, and how you got over the waggoner to do the work of a sexton--Oh, +my, fine tale for Chellaston, that! No, my dear young lady, take a +fatherly word of admonition; your best plan is to make yourself easy +without the tin." + +He looked at her, even now, with more curiosity than malice in his +smiling face. A power of complete reserve was so foreign to his own +nature that without absolute proof he could not entirely believe it in +her. The words he was speaking might have been the utter nonsense to her +that they would have been to any but the girl who was lost from the +Bates and Cameron clearing for all hint she gave of understanding. He +worked on his supposition, however. He had all the talking to himself. + +"You're mighty secret! Now, look at me. I'm no saint, and I've come here +to make a clean breast of that fact. When I was born, Uncle Sam said to +me, 'Cyril P. Harkness, you're a son of mine, and it's your vocation to +worship the God of the Pilgrim Fathers and the Almighty Dollar'; and I +piped up, 'Right you are, uncle.' I was only a baby then." He added +these last words reflectively, as if pondering on the reminiscence, and +gained the object of his foolery--that she spoke. + +"If you mean to tell me that you're fond of money, that's no news. I've +had sense to see _that_. If you thought I'd a mine belonging to me +somewhere that accounts for the affection you've been talking of so +much. I _begin_ to _believe_ in it now." + +She meant her words to be very cutting, but she had not much mobility of +voice or glance; and moreover, her heart was like lead within her; her +words fell heavily. + +"Just so," said he, bowing as if to compliment her discrimination. "You +may believe me, for I'm just explaining to you I'm not a saint, and that +is a sentiment you may almost always take stock in when expressed by +human lips. I was real sick last summer; and when I came to want a +holiday I thought I'd do it cheap, so when I got wind of a walking +party--a set of gentlemen who were surveying--I got them to let me go +along. Camp follower I was, and 'twas first rate fun, especially as I +was on the scent of what they were looking for. So then we came on +asbestos in one part. Don't know what that is, my dear? Never mind as to +its chemical proportions; there's dollars in it. Then we dropped down on +the house of the gentleman that owned about half the hill. One of them +was just dead, and he had a daughter, but she was lost, and as I was +always mighty fond of young ladies, I looked for her. Oh, you may +believe, I looked, till, when she was nowhere, I half thought the man +who said she was lost had been fooling. Well, then, I--" (he stopped and +drawled teasingly) "But _possibly_ I intrude. Do you hanker after +hearing the remainder of this history?" + +She had sat down by the centre table with her back to him. + +"You can go on," she muttered. + +"Thanks for your kind permission. I haven't got much more to tell, for I +don't know to this mortal minute whether I've ever found that young lady +or not; but I have my suspicions. Any way, that day away we went across +the lake, and when the snow drove us down from the hills the day after, +the folks near the railroad were all in a stew about the remains of +Bates's partner, the poppa of the young lady. His remains, having come +there for burial, and not appearing to like the idea, had taken the +liberty of stepping out on the edge of the evening, and hooking it. So +said I, 'What if that young lady was real enterprising! what if she got +the waggoner to put her poppa under the soil of the forest, and rode on +herself, grand as you please, in his burial casket!' (That poor waggoner +drank himself to death of remorse, but that was nothing to her.) The +circumstances were confusing, and the accounts given by different folks +were confusing, and, what's more, 'tisn't easy to believe in a sweet +girl having her poppa buried quite secret; most young ladies is too +delicate. Still, after a bit, the opinion I've mentioned did become my +view of the situation; and I said to myself 'Cyril, good dog; here's +your vocation quite handy. Find the young lady, find her, good fellow! +Ingratiate yourself in her eyes, and you've got, not only an asbestos +mine, but a wife of such smartness and enterprise as rarely falls to the +lot of a rising young man.' I didn't blame her one bit for the part she +had taken, for I'd seen the beast she'd have had to live with. No doubt +her action was the properest she could take. And I thought if I came on +her panting, flying, and offered her my protection, she'd fall down and +adore me. So, to make a long tale short, I stopped a bit in that +locality, hunting for her quite private after every one else had given +up hunting. I heard of a daft old man who'd got about, the Lord only +knows how, and I set the folks firmly believing that he was old Cameron. +Well, _if_ he was, then the girl was lost and dead; but if he +_wasn't_--well, I twigged it she'd got on the railroad, and, by being +real pleasant to all the car men, I found out, quite by the way and +private, how she might have got on, and where any girl had got off, till +by patience and perseverance I got on your track; and I've been eight +months trying to fathom your deepness and win your affections. The more +fool I! For to try to win what hasn't any more existence than the pot at +the rainbow's tail is clear waste of time. Deep you are; but you haven't +got any of the commodity of affection in your breast." + +"Why didn't you tell me this before, like an honest man?" she asked; +"and I'd have told you you didn't know as much as you thought you did." +Her voice was a little thick; but it was expressionless. + +"I'm not green. If you'd known you were possessed of money, d'you +suppose you'd have stayed here to marry me? Oh no, I meant to get that +little ceremony over first, and _spring the mine_ on you for a wedding +present _after_. The reason I've told you now is that I wouldn't marry +you now, not if you'd ten millions of dollars in cash in your pocket." + +"Why not? If I'm the person you take me for, I'm as rich and clever +now." She still sat with her back to him; her voice so impassive that +even interrogation was hardly expressed in words that had the form of a +question. + +"Yes, and you'd be richer and cleverer now with me, by a long chalk, +than without me! If you'd me to say who you are, and that I'd known it +all along, and how you'd got here, and to bring up the railroad fellows +(I've got all their names) who noticed you to bear witness, your claim +would look better in the eyes of the law. 'Twould look a deal better in +the eyes of the world, too, to come as Mrs. Cyril P. Harkness, saying +you had been Miss Cameron, than to come on the stage as Miss White, +laying claim to another name; and it would be a long sight more +comfortable to have me to support and cherish you at such a time than +not to have a friend in the world except the folks whose eyes you've +pulled the wool over, and who'll be mighty shocked. Oh, yes; by Jemima! +you'd be richer and cleverer now with me than without me. But I'll tell +you what I've come here to say"--his manner took a tone more serious; +his mocking smile passed away; he seemed to pause to arrest his own +lightness, and put on an unwonted dignity. "I tell you," he repeated +slowly, "what I've come here to say--I do despise a young lady without a +heart. Do you know what occurred last night? As good an old gentleman as +ever lived was brutally felled to the earth and killed; a poor man who +was never worse than a drunkard has become a murderer, and there's a +many good pious ladies in this town who'll go about till death's day +jeered at as fools. Would you like to be marked for a fool? No, you +wouldn't and neither will they; and if you're the young lady I take you +for, you could have hindered all this, _and_ you didn't. _I_ brought the +old man to this place; I am to blame in that, my own self, I am; but I +tell you, by the salvation of my soul, when I stood last night and heard +him pray, and saw those poor ladies with their white garbs all +bedraggled, around him praying, I said to myself, 'Cyril, you've reason +to call on the rocks and hills to cover you,' and I had grace to be +right down sorry. I'm right down ashamed, and so I'm going to pull up +stakes and go back to where I came from; and I've come here now to tell +you that after what I've seen of you in this matter I'd sooner die than +be hitched with you. You've no more heart than my old shoe; as long as +you get on it's all one to you who goes to the devil. You're not only as +sharp as I took you for, but a good deal sharper. Go ahead; you'll get +rich somehow; you'll get grand; but I want you to know that, though I'm +pretty tricky myself, and 'cute enough to have thought of a good thing +and followed it up pretty far, I've got a heart; and I do despise a +person made of stone. I was _real_ fond of you, for you far exceeded my +expectations; but I'm not fond of you now one bit. If you was to go down +on your bended knees and ask me to admire you now, I wouldn't." + +She listened to all the sentence he pronounced upon her. When he had +finished she asked a question. "What do you mean about going to law +about the clearin'?" + +"Your worthy friend, Mr. Bates, has arrived in this place this very day. +He's located with the Principal, he _is_." + +"He isn't here," she replied in angry scorn. + +"All right. Just _as you please_." + +"He isn't here," she said more sulkily. + +"But _he is_." + +She ignored his replies. "What do you mean about going to law about the +land?" + +"Why, I haven't got much time left,"--he was standing now with his watch +in his hand--"but for the sake of old times I'll tell you, if you don't +see through that. D'you suppose Bates isn't long-headed! He's heard +about Father Cameron being here, and knowing the old man couldn't give +an account of himself, he's come to see him and pretend he's your +father. Of course he's no notion of you being here. He swears right and +left that you went over the hills and perished in the snow; and he's got +up great mourning and lamenting, so I've heard, for your death. Oh, +Jemima! Can't you see through that?" + +"Tell me what you mean," she demanded, haughtily. She was standing again +now. + +"Why, my dear, if you knew a bit more of the world you'd know that it +meant that he intends to pocket all the money himself. And, what's more, +he's got the best of the situation; for you left him of your own accord, +my dear, and changed your name, and if you should surprise him now by +putting in an appearance and saying you're the lost young lady, what's +to hinder him saying you're _not_ you, and keeping the tin? I don't know +who's to swear to you, myself. The men round Turrifs said you were +growing so fast that between one time and another they wouldn't know +you. Worst, that is, of living in out-of-the-way parts--no one sees you +often enough to know if you're you or if you're not you." + +"It is not true," she cried. He had at last brought the flash to her +eyes. She stood before him palpitating with passion. "You are a liar!" +she said, intensely. "Mr. Bates is as honest as"--words failed +her--"as--as honest and as good as _you_ don't even know how to think +of." + +He was like a necromancer who, although triumphant at having truly +raised a spirit by his incantations, quails mystified before it. + +"Oh well, since you feel so badly about it I'll not say that you mayn't +outwit him if you put in your claim. You needn't give up all for lost if +he does try to face it out." + +"Give up what for lost? Do you think I care about this old mine so much? +I tell you, sooner than hear a tricky sharper like you say that Mr. +Bates is as cunning as you are, I'd--I'd--" She did not say more, but +she trembled with passion. "Go!" she concluded. "If you say I'm +unfeeling, you say a thing I suppose is true enough; but you've said +things to me this afternoon that are not true; and if there's a good +honest man in this world, it's Mr. Bates. Sooner than not believe that +I'd--sooner die." + +The tears had welled up and overflowed her eyes. Her face was red and +burning. + +"Say, Eliza," he said, gently enough. He was more astonished than he +could realise or express, but he was really troubled to see her cry. + +"Oh, don't 'Eliza' me!" she cried, angrily. "You said you were going to +go--go--go--I tell you, go! What business is it of yours, I'd like to +know, to mention Mr. Bates to me? You've no business with either him or +me." + +"Upon my word! I'll take my gospel oath I've said no more than I do +believe." + +"I dare say not. You don't know what an honest man is, so how could you +believe in one?" + +"I've a real soft heart; I hate to see you cry, Eliza." + +"Well, Mr. Bates hasn't a soft heart at all; he's as unkind as can be; +but he's as much above you, with all your softness, as light is above +boot blacking." + +She was not good-looking in her tears. She was not modest in her anger; +all the crude rude elements of her nature broke forth. She wrenched the +door open although with obstinate strength he tried to keep it shut, +desiring stupidly to comfort her. She cast him aside as a rough man +might push a boy. When she was making her way upstairs he heard +smothered sounds of grief and rage escaping from her. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +When Eliza had been in her own room for about half an hour, her passion +had subsided. She was not glad of this; in perverseness she would have +recalled the tempest if she could, but she knew not what to call back or +how to call. She knew no more what had disturbed her than in times of +earthquake the sea water knows the cause of its unwonted surging. She +sat angry and miserable; angry with Harkness, not because he had called +her heartless--she did not care in the slightest for his praise or +blame--but because he had been the bearer of ill tidings; and because he +had in some way produced in her the physical and mental distress of +angry passion, a distress felt more when passion is subsiding. She +ranked it as ill tidings that her father's land had risen in value. She +would rather that her worldly wisdom in leaving it had been proved by +subsequent events than disproved, as now, by news which raised such a +golden possibility before her ignorant eyes, that her heart was rent +with pangs of envy and covetousness, while her pride warred at the very +thought of stooping to take back what she had cast away, and all the +disclosure that must ensue. Above all, she counted it ill tidings that +Bates was reported to be in the place. She was as angry with him now as +on the day she had left him--more angry--for now he could vaunt new +prosperity as an additional reason why she had been wrong to go. Why had +he come here to disturb and interrupt? What did the story about Father +Cameron matter to him? She felt like a hunted stag at bay; she only +desired strength and opportunity to trample the hunter. + +Partly because she felt more able to deal with others than with the dull +angry misery of her own heart, partly because she was a creature of +custom, disliking to turn from what she had set out to do, she found +herself, after about an hour of solitude, rearranging her street toilet +to walk to Mrs. Rexford's house. + +When she had made her way down to the lower flat of the hotel she found +Harkness had spoken the truth in saying he intended to go, for he was +gone. The men in the cool shaded bar-room were talking about it. Mr. +Hutchins mentioned it to her through the door. He sat in his big chair, +his crutches leaning against him. + +"Packed up; paid his bill; gone clear off--did you know?" + +"Yes, I knew," said Eliza, although she had not known till that moment. + +"Said he was so cut up, and that he wouldn't stay to give evidence +against poor Job, or be hauled before the coroner to be cross-questioned +about the old man. He's a sharp 'un; packed up in less time than it +takes most men to turn round--adjustable chair and all." + +Eliza had come to the threshold of the bar-room door to hear all he +said. The sunshine of a perfect summer day fell on the verandah just +outside, and light airs came through the outer door and fanned her, but +in here the sweet air was tarnished with smoke from the cigars of one or +two loiterers. + +Two men of the village were sitting with their hats on. As they said +"Good-day" to Eliza, they did not rise or take off their hats, not +because they did not feel towards her as a man would who would give this +civility, but because they were not in the habit of expressing their +feelings in that way. Another transient caller was old Dr. Nash, and he, +looking at Eliza, recognised in a dull way something in her appearance +which made him think her a finer woman than he had formerly supposed, +and, pulling off his hat, he made her a stiff bow. + +Eliza spoke only to Mr. Hutchins: "I shall be gone about four hours; I +am going to the Rexfords to tea. You'd better look into the dining-room +once or twice when supper's on." + +"All right," said he, adding, when the clock had had time to tick once, +"Miss White." + +And the reason he affixed her name to his promise was the same that had +compelled Dr. Nash's bow--a sense of her importance growing upon him; +but the hotel-keeper observed, what the old doctor did not, that the +gown was silk. + +"Fine woman that, sir," he remarked, when she was gone, to anyone who +might wish to receive the statement. + +"Well," said one of the men, "I should just think it." + +"She seems," said Dr. Nash, stiffly, "to be a good girl and a clever +one." + +"She isn't _just_ now what I'd call a gurl," said the man who had +answered first. "She's young, I know; but now, if you see her walking +about the dining-room, she's more like a _queen_ than a _gurl_." + +Without inquiring into the nature of this distinction Dr. Nash got into +his buggy. As he drove down the street under the arching elm trees he +soon passed Eliza on her way to the Rexfords, and again he lifted his +hat. Eliza, with grave propriety, returned the salutation. + +The big hawthorn tree at the beginning of Captain Rexford's fence was +thickly bedecked with pale scarlet haws. Eliza opened the gate beside it +and turned up the cart road, walking on its grassy edge, concealed from +the house by ragged lilac trees. She preferred this to-day to the open +path leading to the central door. This road brought her to the end of +the long front verandah. Here she perceived voices from the +sitting-room, and, listening, thought she heard Principal Trenholme +talking. She went on past the gable of the house into the yard, a +sloping straggling bit of ground, enclosed on three sides by the house +and its additions of dairies and stables, and on the fourth side bounded +by the river. For once the place seemed deserted by the children. A +birch, the only tree in the enclosure, cast fluttering shadow on the +closely cropped sod. Sunlight sparkled on the river and on the row of +tin milk pans set out near the kitchen door. To this door Eliza went +slowly, fanning herself with her handkerchief, for the walk had been +warm. She saw Miss Rexford was in the kitchen alone, attending to some +light cookery. + +"I heard company in the front room, so I came round here till they were +gone." + +"You are not usually shy," said Sophia. + +Eliza sat down on a chair by the wall. With the door wide open the yard +seemed a part of the kitchen. It was a pleasant place. The birch tree +flicked its shadow as far as the much-worn wooden doorstep. + +"I was very sorry to hear about last night, Miss Sophia," said Eliza, +sincerely, meaning that she was sorry on Winifred's account more +immediately. + +"Yes," said Sophia, acknowledging that there was reason for such +sympathy. + +"Is that Principal Trenholme talking?" asked Eliza. The talk in the +sitting-room came through the loose door, and a doubt suddenly occurred +to her. + +"No; it's his brother," said Sophia. + +"The voices are alike." + +"Yes; but the two men don't seem to be much alike." + +"I didn't know he had a brother." + +"Didn't you? He has just come." + +Sophia was taking tea-cakes from the oven. Eliza leaned her head against +the wall; she felt warm and oppressed. One of the smaller children +opened the sitting-room door just then and came into the kitchen. The +child wore a very clean pinafore in token of the day. She came and sat +on Eliza's knee. The door was left ajar; instead of stray words and +unintelligible sentences, all the talk of the sitting-room was now the +common property of those in the kitchen. + +In beginning to hear a conversation already in full flow, it is a few +moments before the interchange of remarks and interrogations makes sense +to us. Eliza only came to understand what was being talked of when the +visitor said "No, I'm afraid there's no doubt about the poor girl's +death. After there had been two or three snow-storms there was evidently +no use in looking for her any more; but even then, I think it was months +before _he_ gave up hopes of her return. Night after night he used to +hoist a pinewood torch, thinking she might have fallen in with Indians +and be still alive and trying to make her way back. The fact of the +matter was, Mrs. Rexford, Bates _loved_ her, and he simply _could not_ +give her up for dead." + +The young man had as many emphasised words in his speech as a girl might +have had, yet his talk did not give the impression of easily expressed +feeling. + +"Ah, it was very sad." + +"Yes, I didn't know I could have minded so much a thing that did not +affect me personally. Then when he had given up hope of finding her +living, he was off, when the spring came, everywhere over the woods, +supposing that if she had perished, her body could be found when the +snow was gone. I couldn't help helping him to search the place for miles +round. It's a fine place in spring, too; but I don't know when one cares +less about spring flowers than when one's half expecting the dead body +of a girl to turn up in every hollow where they grow thickest. I've +beaten down a whole valley of trillium lilies just to be sure she had +not fallen between the rocks they grew on. And if I felt that way, you +may suppose it was bad enough for Bates." + +"He seems to have had a feeling heart." + +"Oh well, he had brought the girl up. I don't think he cared for +anything in the world but her." + +"And Dr. Nash saw Mr. Bates as soon as you got him to your brother's? If +Dr. Nash thinks he'll pull through I should think you must feel +hopeful." + +"Yes--well, I left him on the sofa. He's rather bad." + +There was a pause, as if Mrs. Rexford might be sighing and shaking her +head over some suffering before described. + +Sophia had gone to the milk cellar to get cream for tea. Eliza followed +her out into the yard. + +"I had better not stay to tea," said she, "there won't be room." + +"Oh yes, there will; I have a headache, so I'm not going into the +dining-room." + +"Then I won't stay. I would rather come some night when you are there." + +"How handsome your dress looks! You are getting quite a fine lady, +Eliza." + +"My dress!" said Eliza, looking down at it. It seemed to her so long +since she thought of it. "Yes," she continued, stroking it, "it looks +very nicely, doesn't it?" + +Sophia assented heartily. She liked the girl's choice of clothes; they +seemed to remove her from, and set her far above, the commoner people +who frequented the hotel. + +"You're very tired, Miss Sophia, I can see; and it's no wonder after +last night. It's no fun staying to-night, for we all feel dull about +what's happened; I'll go now." + +Eliza went quietly down the lane again, in shadow of the lilac hedge, +and let herself out of the wooden gate; but she did not return to the +village. She looked down the road the other way, measuring with her eyes +the distance to the roof of Trenholme's house. She walked in that +direction, and when she came to Captain Rexford's pasture field, she got +through the bars and crossed it to a small wood that lay behind. Long +golden strips of light lay athwart the grass between elongated shades +cast by cows and bushes. The sabbath quiet was everywhere. All the cows +in the pasture came towards her, for it was milking time, and any one +who came suggested to them the luxury of that process. Some followed her +in slow and dubious fashion; some stopped before her on the path. Eliza +did not even look at them, and when she went in among the young fir +trees they left her alone. + +It was not a thick wood; the evening sun shone freely between the clumps +of young spruce. In an open glade an elm tree stood, stretching out +branches sensitive to each breath of air, golden in the slant sunlight +above the low dark firs. The roots of this tree were raised and dry. +Eliza sat down on them. She could see between the young trees out to the +side of the college houses and their exit to the road. She could see the +road too: it was this she watched. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Eliza sat still in her rough woodland chamber till the stray sunbeams +had left its floor of moss and played only through the high open windows +in the elm bough roof. She had seen the cows milked, and now heard the +church bells ring. She looked intently through the fissures of the +spruce shrub walls till at length she saw a light carriage drive away +from the college grounds with the clergyman and his brother in it. She +knew now that their house would be left almost empty. After waiting till +the last church-going gig had passed on the road and the bells had +stopped, she went into the college grounds by a back way, and on to the +front of Trenholme's house. + +As was common in the place, the front door yielded when the handle was +turned. Eliza had no wish to summon the housekeeper. She stood in the +inner hall and listened, that she might hear what rooms had inmates. +From the kitchen came occasional clinking of cups and plates; the +housekeeper had evidently not swerved from her regular work. With ears +preternaturally acute, Eliza hearkened to the silence in the other rooms +till some slight sound, she could hardly tell of what, led her upstairs +to a certain door. She did not knock; she had no power to stand there +waiting for a response; the primitive manners of the log house in which +she had lived so long were upon her. She entered the room abruptly, +roughly, as she would have entered the log house door. + +In a long chair lay the man she sought. He was dressed in common +ill-fitting clothes; he lay as only the very weak lie, head and limbs +visibly resting on the support beneath them. + +She crossed her arms and stood there, fierce and defiant. She was +conscious of the dignity of her pose, of her improved appearance and of +her fine clothes; the consciousness formed part of her defiance. But he +did not even see her mood, just as, manlike, he did not see her dress. +All that he did see was that here, in actual life before him, was the +girl he had lost. In his weakness he bestirred himself with a cry of +fond wondering joy--"Sissy!" + +"Yes, Mr. Bates, I'm here." + +Some power came to him, for he sat erect, awed and reverent before this +sudden delight that his eyes were drinking in. "Are you safe, Sissy?" he +whispered. + +"Yes," she replied, scornfully, "I've been quite safe ever since I got +away from you, Mr. Bates. I've taken care of myself, so I'm quite safe +and getting on finely; but I'd get on better if my feet weren't tied in +a sack because of the things you made me do--you _made_ me do it, you +know you did." She challenged his self-conviction with fierce intensity. +"It was you made me go off and leave your aunt before you'd got any one +else to take care of her; it was you who made me take her money because +you'd give me none that was lawfully my own; it was you that made me run +away in a way that wouldn't seem very nice if any one knew, and do +things they wouldn't think very nice, and--and" (she was incoherent in +her passion) "you _made_ me run out in the woods alone, till I could get +a train, and I was so frightened of you coming, and finding me, and +_telling_, that I had to give another name; and _now_, when I'm getting +on in the world, I have to keep hiding all this at every turn because +people wouldn't think it very pretty conduct. They'd think it was queer +and get up a grand talk. So I've told lies and changed my name, and it's +you that made me, Mr. Bates." + +He only took in a small part of the meaning of the words she poured upon +him so quickly, but he could no longer be oblivious to her rage. His joy +in seeing her did not subside; he was panting for breath with the +excitement of it, and his eyes gloated upon her; for his delight in her +life and safety was something wholly apart from any thought of himself, +from the pain her renewed anger must now add to the long-accustomed pain +of his own contrition. + +"But how," he whispered, wondering, "how did you get over the hills? +How?--" + +"Just how and when I could. 'Twasn't much choice that you left me, Mr. +Bates. It signifies very little now how I got here. I _am_ here. You've +come after the old man that's dead, I suppose. You might have saved +yourself the trouble. He isn't father, if _that's_ what you thought." + +He did not even hear the last part of her speech. He grasped at the +breath that seemed trying to elude him. + +"You went out into the woods alone," he said, pityingly. He was so +accustomed to give her pity for this that it came easily. "You--you mean +over our hills to the back of the--" + +"No, I don't, I wasn't such a silly as to go and die in the hills. I got +across the lake, and I'm here now--that's the main thing, and I want to +know why you're here, and what you're going to do." + +Her tone was brutal. It was, though he could not know it, the half +hysterical reaction from that mysterious burst of feeling that had made +her defend him so fiercely against the American's evil imputation. + +She was not sufficiently accustomed to ill health to have a quick eye +for it; but she began now to see how very ill he looked. The hair upon +his face and head was damp and matted; his face was sunken, +weather-browned, but bloodless in the colouring. His body seemed +struggling for breath without aid from his will, for she saw he was +thinking only of her. His intense preoccupation in her half fascinated, +half discomforted her, the more so because of the feverish lustre of his +eye. + +"I'm sorry you're so ill, Mr. Bates," she said, coldly; "you'd better +lie down." + +"Never mind about me," he whispered, eagerly, and feebly moved upon the +seat to get a little nearer her. "Never mind about me; but tell me, +Sissy, have you been a good girl since you got off like this? You're +safe and well--have you been good?" + +"I took your aunt's money, if you mean that, but I left you my half of +things for it; and anyway, it was you who made me do it." + +"Yes, yes," he assented, "'twas my doing; the sin of all you did then +lies at my door. But since then, Sissy?" His look, his whole attitude, +were an eager question, but she looked at him scornfully. + +"Of _course_ I've been good. I go to church and say my prayers, and +every one respects me. I worked first in a family, but I didn't let them +call me a servant. Then I got a place in the Grand Hotel. Old Mr. +Hutchins had got lame, so he couldn't see after things, and I could. +I've done it now for six months, and it's a different house. I always do +everything I do well, so we've made money this summer. I'm thinking of +making Mr. Hutchins take me into partnership; he'd rather do it than +lose me. I'm well thought of, Mr. Bates, by everybody, and I'm going to +get rich." + +"Rich," he echoed, quietly. He looked now, his mind drawn by hers, at +her fine clothes, and at the luxuriant red hair that was arranged with +artificial display. The painfulness of his breath and his weakness +returned now within his range of feeling. + +Without having expected to absorb his mind or knowing that she cared to +do so, she still felt that instant that something was lost to her. The +whole stream of his life, that had been hers since she had entered the +room, was no longer all for her. She pressed on quietly to the business +she had with him, fearing to lose a further chance. + +"Look here, Mr. Bates! It's not more than a few hours since I heard you +were here, so I've come to tell you that I'm alive and all right, and +all that I've done that wasn't very nice was your fault; but, look here, +I've something else to say: I don't know why you've come here to see +this old preacher, or who he is, or what you have to do with him; but it +would be cruel and mean of you now, after driving me to do what I did, +to tell the people here about it, and that my name isn't White, you +know. I've very nice friends here, who'd be shocked, and it would do me +harm. I'm not going to accuse you to people of what you've done. I'm +sorry you're ill, and that you've had all the trouble of hunting for me, +and all that; but I've come to ask you now to keep quiet and not say who +I am." + +He drew great sighs, as a wounded animal draws its breath, but he was +not noticing the physical pain of breathing. He did not catch at breath +as eagerly as he was trying to catch at this new idea, this new Sissy, +with a character and history so different from what he had supposed. His +was not a mind that took rational account of the differences between +characters, yet he began to realise now that the girl who had made her +own way, as this one had, was not the same as the girl he had imagined +wandering helplessly among pathless hills, and dying feebly there. + +She still looked at him as if demanding an answer to her request, looked +at him curiously too, trying to estimate how ill he _was_. He did not +speak, and she, although she did not at all fathom his feeling, knew +instinctively that some influence she had had over him was lessened. + +"Of course you can spoil my life if you like, Mr. Bates, but I've come +to ask you not. Someone's told me there's a mine found on our +clearin'--well, when I took your aunt's gold pieces I meant to leave you +the land for them. I'm too proud to go back on that now, _far_ too +proud; you can keep the money if you want to, or you can give me some of +it if you _want_ to. I'd like to be rich better than anything, but I'd +rather be poor as a church mouse, and free to get on my own way, than +have you to say what I ought to do every touch and turn, thinking I'd +only be good and sensible so long as I did what you told me" (there was +derision in her voice). "But now, as I say, you have the chance to make +me miserable if you choose; but I've come to ask you not to, although if +you do, I dare say I can live it down." + +He looked at her bewildered. A few moments since and all the joy bells +of his life had been a-chime; they were still ringing, but jangling +confusedly out of tune, and--now she was asking him to conceal the cause +of his joy, that he had found her. He could not understand fully; his +mind would not clear itself. + +"I won't do anything to make you miserable, Sissy," he said, faintly. + +"You won't tell that you've seen me, or who I am, or anything?" she +insisted, half pleading, half threatening. + +He turned his face from her to hide the ghastly faintness that was +coming over him. "I--I oughtn't to have tried to keep you, when I did," +he said. + +"No, you oughtn't to," she assented, quickly. + +"And I won't speak of you now, if that's what you want." + +"Thank you," she said, wondering what had made him turn his back to her. +"You aren't very ill, are you, Mr. Bates?" + +"No--you--I only can't get my breath. You'd better go, perhaps." + +"Yes, I think I had," she replied. + +And she went. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +There are many difficulties in this world which, if we refuse to submit +to them, will in turn be subdued by us, but a sprained ankle is not one +of them. Robert Trenholme, having climbed a hill after he had twisted +his foot, and having, contrary to all advice, used it to some extent the +next day, was now fairly conquered by the sprain and destined to be held +by this foot for many long days. He explained to his brother who the +lady was whom he had taken up the hill, why he himself had first +happened to be with her, and that he had slipped with one foot in a +roadside ditch, and, thinking to catch her up, had run across a field +and so missed the lane in the darkness. This was told in the meagre, +prosaic way that left no hint of there being more to tell. + +"What is she like?" asked Alec, for he had confessed that he had talked +to the lady. + +"Like?" repeated Robert, at a loss; "I think she must be like her own +mother, for she is like none of the other Rexfords." + +"All the rest of the family are good-looking." + +"Yes," said Robert dreamily. + +So Alec jumped to the conclusion that Robert did not consider Miss +Rexford good-looking. He did not tell anything more about her or ask +anything more. He saw no reason for insulting Robert by saying he had at +first overheard her conversation, and that it had been continued to him +after she had mistaken one for the other. He wondered over those of her +remarks which he remembered, and his family pride was hurt by them. He +did not conceive that Robert had been much hurt, simply because he +betrayed no sign of injured feeling. Younger members of a family often +long retain a curiously lofty conception of their elders, because in +childhood they have looked upon them as embodiments of age and wisdom. +Alec, in loose fashion of thought, supposed Robert to be too much +occupied by more important affairs to pay heed to a woman's opinion of +him, but he cherished a dream of some day explaining to Miss Rexford +that she was mistaken in his brother's character. His pulse beat quicker +at the thought, because it would involve nearness to her and equality of +conversation. That Robert had any special fancy for the lady never +entered his mind. + +Although we may be willing to abuse those who belong to us we always +feel that the same or any censure coming from an outsider is more or +less unjust; and, too, although the faults of near relatives grieve us +more bitterly than the crimes of strangers, yet most of us have an +easy-going way of forgetting all about the offence at the first +opportunity. There is nothing in the world stronger than the quiet force +of the family tie, which, except in case of need, lies usually so +passive that its strength is overlooked by the superficial observer. It +was by virtue of this tie now that the two brothers, although they had +so great a difference, although they were so constituted as to see most +things very differently, found themselves glad to be in each other's +company. Their hearts grew warmer by mere proximity; they talked of old +family incidents, and of the incidents of the present, with equal zest. +The one thing they did not immediately mention was the subject of the +quarrel about which they had not yet come to an agreement. + +One thing that fretted Alec considerably during that Sunday and Monday +was that Bates had arrived at Chellaston in such a weak state, and had +had so severe an attack of his malady on the Sunday evening, that it was +impossible to take him to see the body of the old man who went by the +name of Cameron. It was in vain that Bates protested, now more strongly +than ever, that he was certain the man was not Cameron; as he would give +no proof of his certainty further than what had already been discussed +between them, Alec could not but feel that he was unreasonable in +refusing to take any interest in the question of identity. However, he +was not well enough to be troubled, certainly not well enough to be +moved. Alec strode over to Cooper's farm alone, and took a last look at +the old man where he lay in a rough shed, and gave his evidence about +the death before the coroner. + +What few belongings the old man had were taken from the Harmon house by +the coroner before Harkness left, but no writing was found upon them. A +description of the body was advertised in the Monday's papers, but no +claim came quickly. Natural law is imperious, seeking to gather earth's +children back to their mother's breast, and when three warm days were +past, all of him that bore earthly image and superscription was given +back to earth in a corner of the village cemetery. An Adventist +minister, who sometimes preached in Chellaston, came to hold such +service as he thought suitable over the grave, and Alec Trenholme was +one of the very few who stood, hat in hand, to see the simple rite. + +They were not in the old graveyard by the river, but in a new cemetery +that had been opened on a slope above the village. It was a bare, stony +place; shrubs that had been planted had not grown. In the corner where +they untie it, except little by little, in a lifetime, or in +generations of lives! Alec Trenholme, confronted almost for the first +time with the thought that it is not easy to find the ideal modern life, +even when one is anxious to conform to it, began tugging at all the +strands of difficulty at once, not seeing them very clearly, but still +with no notion but that if he set his strength to it, he could unravel +them all in the half-hour's walk that lay between him and the college. + +He had not got from under the arching elms at the thin end of the +village when two young ladies in an open phaeton bowed to him. He was +not absent; his mind worked wholesomely at the same instant with his +senses. He saw and knew that these were the Miss Browns, to whom Robert +had introduced him at the end of the Sunday evening service. He thought +them very pretty; he had seen then that they were very gentle and +respectful to Robert; he saw now from the smile that accompanied the +bow, that he was a person they delighted to honour. They were driving +quickly: they were past in a flash of time; and as he replaced his hat +upon his head, he thought that he really was a very good-looking fellow, +very well proportioned, and straight in the legs. He wondered if his +clothes were just the thing; they had not been worn much, but it was a +year since he had got them in England to bring out, and their style +might be a little out of date! Then he thought with satisfaction that +Robert always dressed very well. Robert was very good-looking too. They +were really a very fine pair of brothers! Their father had been a very +fine--He had got quite a bit further on the road since he met the +carriage, so lightly had he stepped to the tune of these thoughts, so +brightly had the sun shone upon them. Now he thought of that pile of +aprons he had in his portmanteau, and he saw them, not as they were now, +freshly calendered in the tight folds of a year's disuse, but as he had +often seen them, with splashes of blood and grease on them. He fancied +the same stains upon his hands; he remembered the empty shop he had +just passed near the general store, which for nearly a year back he had +coveted as a business stand. He estimated instinctively the difference +in the sort of bow the pretty Brown girls would be likely to give him if +he carried his own purpose through. The day seemed duller. He felt more +sorry for his brother than he had ever felt before. He looked about at +the rough fields, the rude log fences, at the road with its gross +unevennesses and side strips of untrimmed weeds. He looked at it all, +his man's eyes almost wistful as a girl's. Was it as hard in this new +crude condition of things to hew for oneself a new way through the +invisible barriers of the time-honoured judgments of men, as it would be +where road and field had been smoothed by the passing of generations? + +He had this contrast between English and Canadian scenery vividly in his +mind, wondering what corresponding social differences, if any, could be +found to make his own particular problem of the hour more easy, and all +the fine speculations he had had when he came down from the cemetery had +resolved themselves into--whether, _after all_, it would be better to go +on being a butcher or not, when he came to the beginning of the Rexford +paling. He noticed how battered and dingy it was. The former owner had +had it painted at one time, but the paint was almost worn off. The front +fencing wanted new pales in many places, and the half acre's space of +grass between the verandah and the road was wholly unkempt. It certainly +did not look like the abode of a family of any pretensions. It formed, +indeed, such a contrast to any house he would have lived in, even had +painting and fencing to be done with his own hand, that he felt a sort +of wrath rising in him at Miss Rexford's father and brother, that they +should suffer her to live in such a place. + +He had not come well in front before he observed that the women of the +family were grouped at work on the green under a tree near the far end +of the house. A moment more, and he saw the lady of the midnight walk +coming towards him over the grass. He never doubted that it was she, +although he had not seen her before by daylight. She had purposely +avoided him on the Sunday; he had felt it natural she should do so. Now +when he saw her coming--evidently coming on purpose to waylay and speak +to him, the excitement he felt was quite unaccountable, even to himself; +not that he tried to account for it--he only knew that she was coming, +that his heart seemed to beat against his throat, that she had come and +laid her hand upon the top of the paling, and looked over at him and +said: + +"Have they buried him? Did you--have you been there?" + +"Yes," said he. + +"We have only just heard a rumour that the funeral was taking place. I +thought when I saw you that perhaps you had been there. I am so glad you +went." Her eyes looked upon him with kind approval. + +He fancied from her manner that she thought herself older than he--that +she was treating him like a boy. Her face was bright with interest and +had the flush of some slight embarrassment upon it. + +He told her what had happened and where the grave was, and stood in the +sweet evening air with quieted manner before her. She did not seem to be +thinking of what he said. "There was something else that I--I rather +wanted to take the first opportunity of saying to you." + +All her face now was rosy with embarrassment, and he saw that, although +she went on bravely, she was shy--shy of him! He hardly took in what she +was saying, in the wonder, in the pleasure of it. Then he knew that she +had been saying that she feared she had talked to him while mistaking +him for his brother, that what she had said had doubtless appeared very +wild, very foolish, as he did not know the conversation out of which it +grew; probably he had forgotten or had not paid heed at the time, but if +he should chance to remember, and had not already repeated her words, +would he be kind enough not to do so, and to forget them himself? + +This was her request, and he guessed, from the tenor of it, that she did +not know how little he had heard in all or how much she had said to him +and how much to his brother; that she would like to know, but was too +proud to ask or to hear; that, in fact, this proud lady had said words +that she was ashamed of. + +"I haven't said a word to Robert about it, and of course I won't now." +It was a very simple thing to say, yet some way he felt a better man in +his own eyes because she had asked him. He did not claim that he had +paid no attention or forgotten, for he felt just now that all her words +were so supremely worthy of deference that he only wished he could +remember more of what she had let fall when her heart was stirred. "Of +course," he said, "I didn't know it had been Robert, or I would have +gone back for him." + +He floundered on into the midst of excuses, and her embarrassment had +time to pass away, with it the blush on her face, and he felt as if a +sun had somewhere set. + +"Thank you" (she was all sedateness now) "I fear that Principal +Trenholme is suffering very much from his foot and will be kept in for +some time. If you had told me that you had repeated my unjust speeches I +should have asked you to take some apology, to say that I am quite +willing to acknowledge my own--unreasonableness." + +He saw that this speech was intended to cover all the ground, and that +he was desired to impart as much of the apology as he believed to be +needed, and no more. He remembered now that he had intended to plead +Robert's cause, but could think of nothing to say except-- + +"Robert is--Robert really is an awfully good man." + +This he said so suddenly and so earnestly looking at her, that she was +betrayed into an unintended answer. + +"Is he?" And then in a moment she smiled on him again, and said warmly, +"He certainly is if you say that; a brother knows as no one else can." + +She was treating him like a boy again. He did not like it now because +he had felt the sweetness of having her at an advantage. There are some +men who, when they see what they want, stretch out their hands to take +it with no more complexity of thought than a baby has when it reaches +for a toy. At other times Alec Trenholme might consider; just then he +only knew that he wanted to talk longer with this stately girl who was +now retiring. He arrested her steps by making a random dash at the first +question that might detain her. + +There was much that, had he known his own mind clearly and how to +express it, he would have liked to say to her. Deep down within him he +was questioning whether it was possible always to live under such +impulse of fealty to Heaven as had befallen him under the exciting +influence of Cameron's expectation, whether the power of such an hour to +sift the good from the evil, the important from the unimportant in life, +could in any wise be retained. But he would have been a wholly different +man from what he was had he thought this concisely, or said it aloud. +All that he did was to express superficial curiosity concerning the +sentiments of others, and to express it inanely enough. + +"Do you think," he said, "that all those poor people--my brother's +housekeeper, for instance--do you think they really thought--really +expected--" + +"I think--" she said. (She came back to the fence and clasped her hands +upon it in her interest.) "Don't you think, Mr. Trenholme, that a person +who is always seeking the Divine Presence, lives in it and has power to +make other people know that it is near? But then, you see, these others +fancy they must model their seeking upon the poor vagaries of their +teacher. We are certain that the treasure is found, but--we mix up +things so, things are really so mixed, that we suppose we must shape our +ideas upon the earthen vessel that holds it. I don't know whether I have +said what I mean, or if you understand--" she stopped. + +She was complaining that people will not distinguish between the +essence of the heaven-sent message and the accident of form in which it +comes. He did not quite understand, because, if the truth must be told, +he had not entirely listened; for although all the spiritual nature that +was in him was stimulated by hers, a more outward sympathy asserted +itself too; he became moved with admiration and liking for her, and +feeling struggled with thought. + +"Yes," he said, dreaming of her alone, "if one could always be with +people who are good, it would be easier to do something worth doing." + +Notwithstanding her interest in what she was saying, Sophia began now to +see the inclination of his heart for her as one might see a trivial +detail of landscape while looking at some absorbing thing, such as a +race. She saw the homage he inwardly proffered more clearly than he saw +it himself. She had seen the same thing before often enough to know it. + +"I think," she continued, "if I had been very ignorant, and had seen a +good deal of this old man, I would have followed him anywhere, because I +would have thought the spiritual force of his life was based on his +opinions, which must therefore be considered true. Isn't that the way we +are apt to argue about any phase of Church or Dissent that has +vitality?" + +But the knowledge she had just come by was making its way to a foremost +place in her thought, and her open heart closed gently as a sensitive +plant closes its leaves. As he watched the animation of her face, he saw +the habitual reserve come over it again like a shadow. He felt that she +was withdrawing from him as truly as if she had been again walking away, +although now she stood still where his renewal of talk had stopped her. +He tried again to grasp at the moment of gracious chance, to claim her +interest, but failed. + +He went on down the road. He had not guessed the lady had seen his +heart, for he hardly saw it himself; yet he called himself a blundering +fool. He wondered that he had dared to talk with her so long, yet he +wondered more that he had not dared to talk longer. In all this he never +thought of social grades, as he had done in connection with the smiles +of the Miss Browns. Sophia Rexford had struck his fancy more as a +superior being; and to angels, or to the Madonna, we do not seek to +recommend ourselves by position or pedigree. + +The strong, clear evening light, tinted with gold, was upon everything. +He felt that if he could but live near the woman he had left, the +problem of living would become simple, and the light of life's best +hours would shine for him always; but he entered into no fine +distinction of ideal friendships. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +In the meantime the elder of the brothers Trenholme had not the +satisfaction of meeting with Sophia Rexford, or of going to see the +strange old man laid away in his last resting-place. + +Robert Trenholme lay in his house, suffering a good deal of physical +pain, suffering more from restlessness of nerve caused by his former +tense activity, suffering most from the consideration of various things +which were grievous to him. + +He had been flouted by the woman he loved. The arrow she had let fly had +pierced his heart and, through that, his understanding. He never told +her, or anyone, how angry he had been at the first stab that wounded, +nor that, when the familiar sound of his brother's voice came to him in +the midst of this anger, he had been dumb rather than claim kindred in +that place with the young man who, by his actions, had already taken up +the same reproach. No, he never told them that it was more in surly rage +than because he had slipped in the ditch that he had let them go on +without him in the darkness; but he knew that this had been the case; +and, although he was aware of no momentous consequences following on +this lapse, he loathed himself for it, asking by what gradual steps he +had descended to be capable of such a moment of childish and churlish +temper. He was a product of modern culture, and had the devil who had +overcome him been merely an unforgiving spirit, or the spirit of +sarcastic wit or of self-satisfied indifference, he might hardly have +noticed that he had fallen from the high estate of Christian manhood, +even though the fiend jumped astride his back and ambled far on him; but +when he found that he had been overcome by a natural impulse of +passionate wrath he was appalled, and was philosopher enough to look for +the cause of such weakness prior to the moment of failure. Was it true, +what Sophia had said, that he had sold his birthright for a little +paltry prosperity? He thought more highly of her discrimination than any +one else would have done, because he loved her. What had she seen in him +to make her use that form of accusation? And if it was true, was there +for him no place of repentance? + +Then he remembered the purer air of the dark mountaintop. There he had +seen many from his own little cure of souls who were shaken by the +madman's fervour as _he_ had never been able to move them by precept or +example. There he, too, had seen, with sight borrowed from the eyes of +the enthusiast, the enthusiast's Lord, seen Him the more readily because +there had been times in his life when he had not needed another to show +him the loveliness that exceeds all other loveliness. He was versed in +the chronicle of the days when the power of God wrought wonders by +devoted men, and he asked himself with whom this power had been working +here of late--with him, the priest, or with this wandering fool, out of +whose lips it would seem that praise was ordained. He looked back to +divers hours when he had given himself wholly to the love of God, and to +the long reaches of time between them, in which he had not cast away the +muck-rake, but had trailed it after him with one hand as he walked +forward, looking to the angel and the crown. He seemed to see St. Peter +pointing to the life all which he had professed to devote while he had +kept back part; and St. Peter said, "Whiles it remained, was it not +thine own? Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God." + +There was for him the choice that is given to every man in this sort of +pain, the choice between dulling his mind to the pain, letting it pass +from him as he holds on his way (and God knows it passes easily), or +clasping it as the higher good. Perhaps this man would not have been +wiser than many other men in his choice had he not looked at the +gathering of his muck-rake and in that found no comfort. Since a woman +had called this prosperity paltry, it seemed less substantial in his own +eyes; but, paltry or worthy, he believed that it was in the power of his +younger brother to reverse that prosperity, and he felt neither brave +enough to face this misfortune nor bad enough to tamper with that +brother's crude ideals for the sake of his own gain. From the length of +his own experience, from the present weariness of his soul, he looked +upon Alec more than ever as a boy to be shielded from the shock of +further disillusion with regard to himself. He had not had Alec's weal a +thorn in his conscience for ten months without coming to feel that, if +merely for the sake of his own comfort, he would not shoulder that +burden again. Now this conception he had of Alec as a weaker man, and of +his ideals as crude and yet needing tender dealing, was possibly a +mistaken one, yet, so curious is our life that, true or false, it was +the thing that at this juncture made him spurn all thought of setting +aside the reproach of his roused sense of loss as morbid or unreal. He +looked to his early realisation of the all-attractiveness of the love of +God, not with the rational view that such phase of religion is ordained +to fade in the heat of life, but with passionate regret that by his own +fault he had turned away from the glory of life. He thought of the +foolish dreamer who had been struck dead in the full impulse of +adoration and longing love, and he would have given reason and life +itself to have such gate of death open now for him. + +His spirit did not rest, but tossed constantly, as a fever patient upon +his bed, for rest requires more than the softest of beds; and as even +those whose bodies are stretched on pillows of down may be too weak to +find bodily rest, so the soul that lies, as do all self-sick souls, in +the everlasting arms, too often lacks health to feel the up-bearing. + +A clever sailor, whose ship is sinking because of too much freight does +not think long before he throws the treasure overboard; a wise man in +pain makes quick vows of abstinence from the cause of pain. In Trenholme +there was little vestige of that low type of will which we see in +lobsters and in many wilful men, who go on clutching whatever they have +clutched, whether it be useful or useless, till the claw is cut off. He +had not realised that he had fallen from the height of his endeavours +before he began to look about eagerly for something that he might +sacrifice. But here he was met by the difficulty that proves that in the +higher stages of human development honest effort after righteousness is +not one whit easier than are man's first simple efforts to put down the +brute in him. Trenholme could find in himself no offending member that +was not so full of good works toward others that he could hardly destroy +it without defrauding them. He had sought nothing for himself that was +not a legitimate object of desire. The world, the flesh, and the devil +had polished themselves to match all that was best in him, and blended +impartially with it, so that in very truth he did not know where to +condemn. A brave man, when examined, will confess all that he honourably +may, but not more; so Trenholme confessed himself to be worldly, but +against that he was forced to confess that a true son of the world would +have been insensible to the torture he was groaning under. He upbraided +himself for not knowing right from wrong, and yet he knew that it was +only a very superficial mind that imagined that without direct +inspiration from Heaven it could detect its sin and error truly. Crying +for such inspiration, his cry seemed unanswered. + +Ah, well, each man must parley as best he may with the Angel who +withstands him in the narrow place where there is no way to turn to the +right hand or the left. We desire at such times to be shown some such +clear portraiture of the ideal to which we must conform in our place and +circumstance as shall cause us no more to mistake good for evil. +Possibly, if such image of all we ourselves ought to be were given to +our gaze, we could not look in its eyes and live. Possibly, if Heaven +granted us the knowledge of all thoughts and deeds that would make up +the ideal self, we should go on our way producing vile imitations of it +and neglecting Heaven, as they do who seek only to imitate the Divine +Example. At any rate, such perfection of self-ideal is not given us, +except with the years that make up the sum of life. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Robert Trenholme had a lively wit, and it stood him many times in lieu +of chapel walls for within it he could retire at all times and be +hidden. Of all that he experienced within his heart at this time not any +part was visible to the brother who was his idle visitor; or perhaps +only the least part, and that not until the moot point between them was +touched upon. + +There came a day, two days after the old preacher had been buried, when +the elder brother called out: + +"Come, my lad, I want to speak to you." + +Robert was lying on a long couch improvised for him in the corner of his +study. The time was that warm hour of the afternoon when the birds are +quiet and even the flies buzz drowsily. Bees in the piebald petunias +that grew straggling and sweet above the sill of the open window, dozed +long in each sticky chalice. Alec was taking off his boots in the lobby, +and in reply to the condescending invitation he muttered some graceless +words concerning his grandmother, but he came into the room and sat +with his elbows on the table. He had an idea of what might be said, and +felt the awkwardness of it. + +"That fellow Bates," he observed, "is devouring your book-case +indiscriminately. He seems to be in the sort of fever that needs +distraction every moment. I asked him what he'd have to read, and he +said the next five on the shelf--he's read the first ten." + +"It's not of Bates I wish to speak; I want to know what you've decided +to do. Are you going to stick to your father's trade, or take to some +other?" + +Robert held one arm above his head, with his fingers through the leaves +of the book he had been reading. He tried to speak in a casual way, but +they both had a disagreeable consciousness that the occasion was +momentous. Alec's mind assumed the cautious attitude of a schoolboy +whispering "_Cave_". He supposed that the other hoped now to achieve by +gentleness what he had been unable to achieve by storm. + +"Of course," he answered, "I won't set up here if you'd rather be quit +of me. I'll go as far as British Columbia, if that's necessary to make +you comfortable." + +"By that I understand that in these ten months your mind has not +altered." + +"No; but as I say, I won't bother you." + +"Have you reconsidered the question, or have you stuck to it because you +said you would?" + +"I have reconsidered it." + +"You feel quite satisfied that, as far as you are concerned, this is the +right thing to do?" + +"Yes." + +"Well then, as far as I am concerned, I don't want to drive you to the +other side of the continent. You can take advantage of the opening here +if you want to." + +Alec looked down at the things on the table. He felt the embarrassment +of detecting his brother in some private religious exercise; nothing, he +thought, but an excess of self-denial could have brought this about; +yet he was gratified. + +"Look here! You'd better not say that--I might take you at your word." + +"Consider that settled. You set up shop, and I will take a fraternal +interest in the number of animals you kill, and always tell you with +conscientious care when the beef you supply to me is tough. And in the +meantime, tell me, like a good fellow, why you stick to this thing. When +you flung from me last time you gave me no explanation of what you +thought." + +"At least," cried Alec, wrath rising at the memory of that quarrel, "I +gave you a fair hearing, and knew what you thought." + +When anger began he looked his brother full in the face, thus noticing +how thin that face was, too thin for a man in the prime of life, and the +eye was too bright. As the brief feeling of annoyance subsided, the +habitual charm of the elder man's smile made him continue to look at +him. + +"And yet," continued Robert, "two wrongs do not make a right. That I am +a snob does not excuse you for taking up any line of life short of the +noblest within your reach." + +The other again warned himself against hidden danger. "You're such a +confoundedly fascinating fellow, with your smiles and your suppressed +religion, I don't wonder the girls run after you. But you are a +Jesuit--I never called you a snob--you're giving yourself names to fetch +me round to see things your way." + +It was an outburst, half of admiring affection, half of angry obstinacy, +and the elder brother received it without resentment, albeit a little +absently. He was thinking that if Alec held out, "the girls" would not +run after him much more. But then he thought that there was one among +them who would not think less, who perhaps might think more of him, for +this sacrifice. He had not made it for her; it might never be his lot to +make any sacrifice for her; yet she perhaps would understand this one +and applaud it. The thought brought a sudden light to his face, and +Alec watched the light and had no clue by which to understand it. He +began, however, defending himself. + +"Look here! You suggest I should take the noblest course, as if I had +never thought of that before. I'm not lower in the scale of creation +than you, and I've had the same bringing up. I've never done anything +great, but I've tried not to do the other thing. I felt I should be a +sneak when I left school if I disappointed father for the sake of being +something fine, and I feel I should be a sneak now if I turned--" + +"You acted like the dear fellow I always knew you were in the first +instance, but why is it the same now? It's not for his sake, surely, +for, for all you know, from where he is now, the sight of you going on +with that work may not give him pleasure, but pain." + +"No; I went into it to please him, but now he's gone that's ended." + +"Then it's _not_ the same now. Why do you say you'd feel like a sneak if +you changed? There is, I think, no goddess or patron saint of the trade, +who would be personally offended at your desertion." + +"You don't understand at all. I'm sick--just sick, of seeing men trying +to find something grand enough to do, instead of trying to do the first +thing they can grandly." + +"I haven't noticed that men are so set on rising." + +"No, not always; but when they're not ambitious enough to get something +fine to do, they're not ambitious enough to do what they do well, unless +it's for the sake of money. Look at the fellows that went to school with +us, half of them shopkeepers' sons. How many of them went in with their +fathers? Just those who were mean enough to care for nothing but +money-making, and those who were too dull to do anything else." + +"The education they got was good enough to give them a taste for higher +callings." + +"Yes"--with a sneer--"and how the masters gloried over such brilliant +examples as yourself, who felt themselves 'called higher,' so to speak! +You had left school by the time I came to it, but I had your shining +tracks pointed out to me all along the way, and old Thompson told me +that Wolsey's father was 'in the same line as my papa,' and he +instructed me about Kirke White's career; and I, greedy little pig that +I was, sucked it all in till I sickened. I've never been able to feed on +any of that food since." + +In a moment the other continued, "Well, in spite of the fact that our +own father was too true and simple ever to be anything but a gentleman, +it remains true that the choice of this trade and others on a level with +it--" + +"Such as hunting and shooting, or the cooking of meats that ladies are +encouraged to devote themselves to." + +"I was saying--the choice of this trade, or of others on a level with +it, be they whatever they are, implies something coarse in the grain of +the average man who chooses it, and has a coarsening effect upon him." + +"If the old novels are any true picture of life, there was a time when +every cleric was a place-hunter. Would you have advised good men to keep +out of the church at that time? I'm told there's hardly an honourable +man in United States politics: is that less reason, or more, for honest +fellows to go into public life there?" (Impatience was waxing again. The +words fell after one another in hot haste.) "There's a time coming when +every man will be taught to like to keep his hands clean and read the +poets; and will you preach to them all then that they mustn't be coarse +enough to do necessary work, or do you imagine it will be well done if +they all do an hour a day at it in amateur fashion? You're thoroughly +inconsistent," he cried. + +"Do you imagine I'm trying to argue with you, boy?" cried the other, +bitterly. "I could say a thousand things to the point, but I've no +desire to say them. I simply wish to state the thing fairly, to see how +far you have worked through it." + +"I've thought it out rather more thoroughly than you, it seems to me, +for at least I'm consistent." + +They were both offended; the elder biting his lip over sarcastic words, +the younger flushed with hasty indignation. Then, in a minute, the one +put away his anger, and the other, forgetting the greater part of his, +talked on. + +"I'll tell you the sort of thing that's made me feel I should be a sneak +to give it up. Just after I left school I went back to visit old +Thompson, and he and his wife took me to a ball at the Assembly Rooms. +It was quite a swell affair, and there weren't enough men. So old +Thompson edged us up to a grand dame with a row of daughters, and I +heard him in plethoric whisper informing her, as in duty bound, just who +I was, 'but,' added he, as a compensating fact, 'there isn't a finer or +more gentlemanly fellow in the room.' So the old hen turned round and +took me in with one eye, all my features and proportions; but it wasn't +till Thompson told her that father was about to retire, and that I, of +course, was looking to enter a higher walk, that she gave permission to +trot me up. Do you think I went? They were pretty girls she had, and the +music--I'd have given something to dance that night; but if I was the +sort of man she'd let dance with her girls, she needn't have taken +anything else into account; and if I was decent enough for them, it was +because of something else in me other than what I did or didn't do. I +swore then, by all that's sweet--by music and pretty girls and +everything else--that I'd carve carcases for the rest of my days, and if +the ladies didn't want me they might do without me. You know how it was +with father; all the professional men in the place were only too glad to +have a chat with him in the reading-rooms and the hotel. They knew his +worth, but they wouldn't have had him inside their own doors. Well, the +worse for their wives and daughters, say I. They did without him; they +can do without me. The man that will only have me on condition his trade +is not mine can do without me too, and if it's the same in a new +country, then the new country be damned!" + +The hot-headed speaker, striding about the room, stopped with the word +that ended this tirade, and gave it out roundly. + +"The thing is," said Robert, "can you do without _them_--all these men +and women who won't have you on your own terms? They constitute all the +men and women in the world for you and me, for we don't care for the +other sort. Can you do without them? I couldn't." He said the "I +couldn't" first as if looking back to the time when he had broken loose +from the family tradition; he repeated it more steadfastly, and it +seemed to press pathetically into present and future--"I couldn't." The +book that he had been idly swinging above his pillow was an old missal, +and he lowered it now to shield his face somewhat from his brother's +downward gaze. + +"No, you couldn't," repeated Alec soberly. He stood with his hands in +his pockets, looking down half pityingly, perhaps with a touch of +superiority. "You couldn't; but I can, and I'll stand by my colours. I +should be a coward if I didn't." + +Robert coloured under his look, under his words, so he turned away and +stood by the window. After a minute Robert spoke. + +"You haven't given me the slightest reason for your repeated assertion +that you would be a coward." + +"Yes, I have. That's just what I've been saying." + +"You have only explained that you think so the more strongly for all +opposition, and that may not be rational. Other men can do this work and +be thankful to get it; you can do higher work." His words were +constrainedly patient, but they only raised clamour. + +"I don't know what you profess and call yourself! What should I change +for? To pamper your pride and mine--is that a worthy end? To find +something easier and more agreeable--is that manly, when this has been +put into my hand? How do I know I could do anything better? I know I can +do this well. As for these fine folks you've been talking of, I'll see +they get good food, wherever I am; and that's not as easy as you think, +nor as often done; and there's not one of them that would do all their +grand employments if they weren't catered for; and as for the other men +that would do it" (he was incoherent in his heat), "they do it pretty +badly, some of them, just because they're coarse in the grain; and you +tell me it'll make them coarser; well then, I, who can do it without +getting coarse, will do it, till men and women stop eating butcher's +meat. You'd think it more pious if I put my religion into being a +missionary to the Chinese, or into writing tracts? Well, I don't." + +He was enthusiastic; he was perhaps very foolish; but the brother who +was older had learned at least this, that it does not follow that a man +is in the wrong because he can give no wiser reason for his course than +"I take this way because I will take it." + +"Disarm yourself, old fellow," he said. "I am not going to try to +dissuade you. I tried that last year, and I didn't succeed; and if I had +promise of success now, I wouldn't try. Life's a fearful thing, just +because, when we shut our eyes to what is right in the morning, at noon +it's not given us to see the difference between black and white, unless +our eyes get washed with the right sort of tears." + +Alec leaned his head out of the window; he felt that his brother was +making a muff of himself, and did not like it. + +"If you see this thing clearly," Robert continued, "I say, go ahead and +do it; but I want you just to see the whole of it. According to you, I +am on the wrong track; but I have got far along it, and now I have other +people to consider. It seems a pity, when there are only two of us in +the world, that we should have to put half the world between us. We used +to have the name, at least of being attached." He stopped to find the +thread, it was a disconnected speech for him to formulate. He had put +his arm under his head now, and was looking round at his brother. "I +have never misrepresented anything. For the matter of that, the man who +had most to do with putting me in my berth here, knew all that there was +to be known about my father. He didn't publish the matter, for the sake +of the school; and when I had taken the school, I couldn't publish it +either. All the world was free to inquire, but as far as I know, no one +has done so; and I have let the sleeping dog lie." + +"I never said you ought to have been more talkative. It's not my +business." + +"The position you take makes it appear that I am in a false position. +Give me time to get about again. I ought at least to be more frank with +my personal friends. Wait till I have opportunity to speak myself--that +is all I ask of you. After that do what you will; but I think it only +right to tell you that if you set up shop here, or near here, I should +resign my place in this college." + +"I'm not going to stay here. I told you I see that won't work." + +"Don't be hasty. As I said, it's hard lines if this must separate us. I +can keep the church. They can't be particular about my status there, +because they can't pay me." + +"It's mad to think of such a thing; it would be worse for the college +than for you." + +"If I knew it would be the worse for the college it might not be right +to do it" (he spoke as if this had cost him thought), "but there are +plenty who can manage a concern like this, now it is fairly established, +even if they could not have worked it up as I have." + +"I'd like to see them get another man like you!"--loudly--"H'n, if they +accepted your resignation they'd find themselves on the wrong side of +the hedge! They wouldn't do it, either; it isn't as if you were not +known now for what you are. They can't be such fools as to think that +where I am, or what I do, can alter you." + +"It is not with the more sensible men who are responsible for the +college that the choice would ultimately lie, but with the boys' +parents. If the numbers drop off--" + +"Then the parents are the greatest idiots--" + +There was a world of wrath in the words, but the principal of the New +College, who felt his position so insecure, laughed. + +"Yes, you may fairly count on that. A clever woman, who kept a girls' +school, told me once that if she had to draw up rules for efficient +school-keeping they would begin:--'1st. Drown all the parents!'--My own +experience has led me to think she was not far wrong." + +Alec stood looking out of the open window with a thunderous face. For +several reasons, some of which he hardly understood, he did not want to +leave Chellaston; but he had no intention of ruining his brother. It +annoyed him that Robert should seriously propose to retire, and more, +that he should let jokes and laughter fall on the heels of such a +proposal. He did not know that there are hours to some men, coming not +in the heat of party conflict, but in the quiet of daily life, when +martyrdom would be easy, and any sacrifice short of martyrdom is mere +play. And because he did not know this, he did not believe in it, just +as the average man does not. His cogitation, however, was not on such +abstruse matters, nor was it long, but its result was not insignificant. + +"Put your money into it," he said, "and fight it out! Put part of my +money into it, if you like, and let us fight it out together." + +Perhaps the sentiment that actuated the suggestion, even as concerned +part of his own inheritance, was nothing more than pugilistic; the idea, +however, came to Robert Trenholme as entirely a new one. The proceeds of +his father's successful trade lay temporarily invested, awaiting Alec's +decision, and his own share would probably be ample to tide the college +over any such shock to its income as might be feared from the +circumstances they had been contemplating, and until public confidence +might be laboriously regained. The plan was not one that would have +occurred to his own mind--first, because the suggestions of his mind +were always prudent; secondly, because such a fight was shocking to +that part of his nature which was usually uppermost. It would be far +more agreeable to him to turn away from the averted eyes of correct +taste than to stand brazenly till he was again tolerated. Still, this +very thing he disliked most might be the thing that he was meant to do, +and also there is nothing more contagious than the passion for war. +Alec's bellicose attitude aroused party spirit in him. He knew the power +of money; he knew the power of the prestige he had; he began to realise +that he could do this thing if he chose. + +"You are a piece of consummate conceit," he mocked. "Do you imagine that +with a little money, and a very few personal graces, we two can +brow-beat the good judgment of the public?" + +"The fun of the fight would be worth the money _almost_," observed Alec +parenthetically. Then he jeered: "Brace up, and put on more style; put +your groom in livery; get a page to open your front door; agitate till +you get some honorary degrees from American colleges! And as for me, +I'll send out my bills on parchment paper, with a monogram and a crest." + +"Do you so despise your fellow men?" asked Robert sadly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +For a day or two previous to the conversation of the brothers about +Alec's decision, Alec had been debating in his own mind what, after all, +that decision had better be. Never had he come so near doubting the +principle to which he adhered as at this time. A few days went a long +way in Chellaston towards making a stranger, especially if he was a +young man with good introduction, feel at home there, and the open +friendliness of Chellaston society, acting like the sun in Ćsop's fable, +had almost made this traveller take off his coat. Had Robert been a +person who had formerly agreed with him, it is probable that when the +subject was opened, he would have confessed the dubious condition of his +heart, and they would together have very carefully considered the +advisability of change of plan. Whether the upshot in that case would +have been different or not, it is impossible to say, for Robert had not +formerly agreed with him, and could not now be assumed to do so, and +therefore for Alec, as a part of militant humanity, there was no +resource but to stand to his guns, forgetting for the time the weakness +in his own camp, because he had no thought of betraying it to the enemy. +He who considers such incidents (they are the common sands of life), and +yet looks upon the natural heart of man as a very noble thing, would +appear to be an optimist. + +However that may be, the conversation ended, Alec's heart stood no +longer in the doubtful attitude. There are those who look upon +confessions and vows as of little importance; but even in the lower +affairs of life, when a healthy man has said out what he means, he +commonly means it more intensely. When Alec Trenholme had told his +brother that he still intended to be a butcher, the thing for him was +practically done, and that, not because he would have been ashamed to +retract, but because he had no further wish to retract. + +"And the mair fules ye are baith," said Bates, having recourse to broad +Scotch to express his indignation when told what had passed. + +It was out of good nature that Alec had told the one invalid what had +been going on in the other's room, but Bates was only very much annoyed. + +"I thought," said he, "that ye'd got that bee out of yer ain bonnet, but +ye're baith of ye daft now." + +"Come now, Bates; you wouldn't dare to say that to my 'brother, the +clergyman.'" + +"I know more what's due than to call a minister a fule to his face, but +whiles it's necessary to say it behind his back." + +"Now I call him a hero, after what he's said to-day." + +Alec was enjoying the humour of poking up the giant of conventionality. + +"Hoots, man; it's yourself ye regard as a hero! Set yerself up as a +Juggernaut on a car and crush him under the wheels!" + +"Oh, I'm going to British Columbia. I won't take him at his word; but +I'm pleased he had pluck enough to think of taking the bull by the +horns." + +"But I'm thinking ye just will take him at his word, for it's the +easiest--standing there, patting him on the back, because he's given up +to you!" + +It was as odd a household this as well might be. Alec spent some of his +time offering rough ministrations to his lame brother and asthmatic +visitor, but more often left them to the sad but conscientious care of +Mrs. Martha, preferring to exercise his brother's horses; and he scoured +the country, escaping from social overtures he did not feel prepared to +meet. To all three men Mrs. Martha was at this time an object of silent +wonder. Before the Adventist disturbance she had appeared a very +commonplace person; now, as they saw her going about her daily work, +grim in her complete reserve, questions which could hardly be put into +words arose in their minds concerning her. She suggested to them such +pictorial ideas as one gleans in childhood about the end of the world, +and this quite without any effort on their part, but just because she +had clothed herself to their eyes in such ideas. Bates, who had exact +opinions on all points of theology, tackled her upon what he termed "her +errors"; but, perhaps because he had little breath to give to the cause, +the other two inmates of the house could not learn that he had gained +any influence over her or any additional information as to her state of +mind. + +Bates himself was so incongruous an element in Principal Trenholme's +house that it became evident he could not be induced to remain there +long. Sufficiently intelligent to appreciate thoroughly any tokens of +ease or education, he was too proud not to resent them involuntarily as +implying inferiority on his own part. He had, to a certain degree, fine +perception of what good manners involved, but he was not sufficiently +simple to act without self-conscious awkwardness when he supposed any +deviation from his ordinary habits to be called for. Had he not been +miserable in mind and body he might have taken more kindly to carpets +and china; but as it was, he longed, as a homesick man for home, for +bare floors and the unceremoniousness that comes with tin mugs and a +scarcity of plates. + +For home as it existed for him--the desolate lake and hills, the +childish crone and rude hearth--for these he did not long. It was his +home, that place; for into it--into the splashing lake and lonely woods, +into the contour of the hills, and into the very logs of which the house +was built--he had put as much of himself as can be absorbed by outside +things; but just because to return there would be to return to his +mind's external habitat, he could not now take comfort in returning. All +the multiform solace it might have yielded him had been blasted by the +girl from the hotel, who had visited him in secret. Before he had seen +Sissy again his one constant longing had been to get done with necessary +business, financial and medical, and go back to his place, where sorrow +and he could dwell at peace together. He would still go, for he +cherished one of those nervous ideas common with sick men, that he could +breathe there and nowhere else; but he hated the place that was now rife +with memories far more unrestful and galling than memories of the dead +can ever be. + +He hugged to himself no flattering delusion; in his judgment Sissy had +shown herself heartless and cruel; but he did not therefore argue, as a +man of politer mind might have done, that the girl he had loved had +never existed, that he had loved an idea and, finding it had no +resemblance to the reality, he was justified in casting away both, and +turning to luxurious disappointment or to a search for some more worthy +recipient of the riches of his heart. No such train of reasoning +occurred to him. He had thought Sissy was good and unfortunate; he had +found her fortunate and guilty of an almost greater degree of +callousness than he could forgive; but, nevertheless, Sissy was the +person he loved--his little girl, whom he had brought up, his big girl, +in whom he centred all his hopes of happy home and of years of mature +affection. Sissy was still alive, and he could not endure to think of +her living on wholly separated from him. For this reason his mind had no +rest in the thought of remaining where he was, or of returning whence he +had come, or in the dream of seeking new places. He could think of no +satisfaction except that of being near to her and making her a better +girl; yet he had promised to have no dealings with her; and not only +that, but he now at length perceived the futility of all such care as he +might exercise over her. He had thought to shield her by his knowledge +of the world, and he had found that she, by natural common sense, had a +better knowledge of the world than he by experience; he had thought to +protect her by his strong arm, and he had found himself flung off, as +she might have flung a feeble thing that clung to her for protection. +She was better able to take care of herself in the world than he had +been to take care of her, and she did not want his tenderness. Yet he +loved her just as he had ever done, and perceived, in the deep well of +his heart's love and pity, that she did, in sooth, need something--a +tenderer heart it might be--need it more terribly than he had ever +fancied need till now. He longed unspeakably to give her this--this +crown of womanhood, which she lacked, and in the helplessness of this +longing his heart was pining. + +"A man isn't going to die because he has asthma," had been the doctor's +fiat concerning Bates. He had come to Chellaston apparently so ill that +neither he nor his friends would have been much surprised had death been +the order of the day, but as the programme was life, not death, he was +forced to plan accordingly. His plans were not elaborate; he would go +back to the clearing; he would take his aunt back from Turrifs to be +with him; he would live as he had lived before. + +Would he not sell the land? they asked; for the price offered for it was +good, and the lonely life seemed undesirable. + +No, he would not sell. It would, he said, be selling a bit of himself; +and if there was value in it, it would increase, not diminish, by +holding till the country was opened up. When he was dead, his heirs, be +they who they might (this he said mysteriously), could do as they would. +As for him, he would take a man back from this part of the country to +work in Alec's place. His cough, he said, had been worse since he had +been beguiled into leaving his wilderness to travel with Alec; the pure +air of the solitude would be better than doctors for him. + +The journey into which Alec had beguiled him had already had three +results: he had sold his lumber at a good price; had found out, by +talking with business men at Quebec, what the real value of his land +probably was, and would be; and had been put by Dr. Nash into a right +way of thinking concerning his disease and its treatment, that would +stand him in good stead for years to come; but none of these goodly +results did he mention when he summed up the evils and discomforts of +the trip in Alec's hearing. If his irascible talk was the index to his +mind, certainly any virtue Alec had exercised toward him would need to +be its own reward. + +He offered to pay Alec his wages up to the time of their arrival in +Chellaston, because he had looked after him in his feebleness, and he +talked of paying "The Principal" for his board during his sojourn there. +When they treated these offers lightly, he sulked, mightily offended. He +would have given his life, had it been necessary, for either of the +brothers, because of the succour they had lent him; nay more, had they +come to him in need a lifetime afterwards, when most men would have had +time to forget their benefaction many times over, John Bates would have +laid himself, and all that he had, at their disposal; but he was too +proud to say "thank you" for what they had done for him, or to confess +that he had never been so well treated in his life before. + +During his first days in Chellaston he was hardly able to leave his own +room; but all the time he talked constantly of leaving the place as soon +as he was well enough to do so; and the only reason that he did not +bring his will to bear upon his lagging health, and fix the day of +departure, was that he could not compel himself to leave the place where +Sissy was. He knew he must go, yet he could not. One more interview with +her he must have, one more at least before he left Chellaston. He could +not devise any way to bring this about without breaking his promise to +her, but his intention never faltered--see her he must, if only once, +and so the days passed, his mental agitation acting as a drag on the +wheels of his recovery. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +When Alec Trenholme had had the key of the Harmon house in his +possession some days, he went one evening, beguiled by the charm of the +weather and by curiosity, for the first time into the Harmon garden. He +wished to look over the rooms that were of some interest to him because +of one of their late inmates, and having procrastinated, he thought to +carry out his intention now, in the last hour before darkness came on, +in order to return the key that night. + +The path up to the house was lightly barred by the wild vine, that, +climbing on overgrown shrubs on either side, had more than once cast its +tendrils across. A trodden path there was in and out the bushes, +although not the straight original one, and by following it Alec gained +the open space before the house. Here self-sown magenta petunias made +banks of colour against the old brick walls, and the evening light, +just turning rosy, fell thereon. He could not see the river, although he +heard it flowing behind a further mass of bushes. He stood alone with +the old house in the opening that was enclosed by shrubs and trees so +full of leaf that they looked like giant heaps of leaves, and it seemed +to him that, if earth might have an enchanted place, he had surely +entered it. Then, remembering that the light would not last long, he +fitted the key to the door and went in. + +Outside, nature had done her work, but inside the ugly wall-paper and +turned bannisters of a modern villa had not been much beautified by dust +and neglect. Still, there is something in the atmosphere of a long +neglect that to the mind, if not to the eye, has softening effect. Alec +listened a moment, as it were, to the silence and loneliness of the +house, and went into the first dark room. + +It was a large room, probably a parlour of some pretension, but the only +light came through the door and lit it very faintly. All the windows of +the house were shut with wooden shutters, and Alec, not being aware +that, except in the rooms Harkness had occupied, the shutters were +nailed, went to a window to open it. He fumbled with the hasp, and, +concluding that he did not understand its working, went on into the next +room to see if the window there was to be more easily managed. In this +next room he was in almost total darkness. He had not reached the window +before he heard some one moving in an adjoining room. Turning, he saw a +door outlined by cracks of lamplight, and as it was apparent that some +one else was in the house, he made at once for this door. Before he had +reached it the cracks of light which guided him were gone; and when he +had opened it, the room on whose threshold he stood was dark and silent; +yet, whether by some slight sounds, or by some subtler sense for which +we have no name, he was convinced that there was some one in it. +Indignant at the extinction of the light and at the silence, he turned +energetically again in the direction of the window in order to wrench +it open, when, hearing a slight scratching sound, he looked back into +the inner room. There was light there again, but only a small vaporous +curl of light. Connecting this with the sound, he supposed that a poor +sulphur match had been struck; but this supposition perhaps came to him +later, for at the moment he was dazed by seeing in this small light the +same face he had seen over old Cameron's coffin. The sight he had had of +it then had almost faded from his memory; he had put it from him as a +thing improbable, and therefore imaginary; now it came before his eyes +distinctly. A man's face it certainly was not, and, in the fleet moment +in which he saw it now, he felt certain that it was a woman's. The +match, if it was a match, went out before its wood was well kindled, and +all he could see vanished from sight with its light. His only thought +was that whoever had escaped him before should not escape him again, and +he broke open the window shutters by main strength. + +The light poured in upon a set of empty rooms, faded and dusty. A glance +showed him an open door at the back of the farthest room, and rushing +through this, he opened the windows in that part of the house which had +evidently been lately inhabited. He next came into the hall by which he +had entered, and out again at the front door, with no doubt that he was +chasing some one, but he did not gain in the pursuit. He went down the +path to the road, looking up and down it; he came back, in and out among +the bushes, searching the cemetery and river bank, vexed beyond measure +all the time to perceive how easy it would be for any one to go one way +while he was searching in another, for the garden was large. + +He had good reason to feel that he was the victim of most annoying +circumstances, and he naturally could not at once perceive how it +behoved him to act in relation to this new scene in the almost forgotten +drama. Cameron was dead; the old preacher was dead; whether they were +one and the same or not, who was this person who now for the second +time suddenly started up in mysterious fashion after the death? Alec +assumed that it could be no one but Cameron's daughter, but when he +tried to think how it might be possible that she should be in the +deserted house, upon the track of the old preacher, as it were, his mind +failed even to conjecture. + +The explanation was comparatively simple, if he had known it, but he did +not know it. Someone has said that the man most assured of his own +truthfulness is not usually truthful; and in the same sense it is true +that the man most positive in trusting his own senses is not usually +reliable. Alec Trenholme flagged in his search; a most unpleasing doubt +came to him as to whether he had seen what he thought he saw and was not +now playing hide-and-seek with the rosy evening sunbeams among these +bushes, driven by a freak of diseased fancy. He was indeed provoked to a +degree almost beyond control, when, in a last effort of search through +the dense shrubbery, he skirted the fence of Captain Rexford's nearest +field, and there espied Sophia Rexford. + +Those people are happy who have found some person or thing on earth that +embodies their ideal of earthly solace. To some it is the strains of +music; to some it is the interior of church edifices; to the child it is +his mother; to the friend it is his friend. As soon as Alec Trenholme +saw this fair woman, whom he yet scarcely knew, all the fret of his +spirit found vent in the sudden desire to tell her what was vexing him, +very much as a child desires to tell its troubles and be comforted. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +That evening Mrs. Rexford and Sophia had been sitting sewing, as they +often did, under a tree near the house. Sophia had mused and stitched. +Then there came a time when her hands fell idle, and she looked off at +the scene before her. It was the hour when the sun has set, and the +light is not less than daylight but mellower. She observed with pleasure +how high the hops had grown that she had planted against the gables of +the house and dairies. On this side the house there was no yard, only +the big hay-fields from which the hay had been taken a month before; in +them were trees here and there, and beyond she saw the running river. +She had seen it all every day that summer, yet-- + +"I think I never saw the place look so nice," she said to her +step-mother. + +Dottie came walking unsteadily over the thick grass. She had found an +ox-daisy and a four-o'clock. + +"Here! take my pretties," she said imperiously. + +Sophia took them. + +"They's to be blowed," said Dottie, not yet distinguishing duly the +different uses of flowers or of words. + +Sophia obediently blew, and the down of the four-o'clock was scattered +into space; but the daisy, impervious to the blast, remained in the +slender hand that held it. Dottie looked at it with indignation. + +"Blow again!" was her mandate, and Sophia, to please her, plucked the +white petals one by one, so that they might be scattered. It was not +wonderful that, as she did so, the foolish old charm of her school-days +should say itself over in her mind, and the lot fell upon "He loves me." +"Who, I wonder?" thought Sophia, lightly fanciful; and she did not care +to think of the wealthy suitor she had cast aside. Her mind glanced to +Robert Trenholme. "No," she thought, "he loves me not." She meditated on +him a little. Such thoughts, however transient, in a woman of +twenty-eight, are different from the same thoughts when they come to her +at eighteen. If she be good, they are deeper, as the river is deeper +than the rivulet; better, as the poem of the poet is better than the +songs of his youth. Then for some reason--the mischief of idleness, +perhaps--Sophia thought of Trenholme's young brother--how he had looked +when he spoke to her over the fence. She rose to move away from such +silly thoughts. + +Dottie possessed herself of two fingers and pulled hard toward the +river. Dearly did she love the river-side, and mamma, who was very +cruel, would not allow her to go there without a grown-up companion. + +When she and her big sister reached the river they differed as to the +next step, Dottie desiring to go on into the water, and Sophia deeming +it expedient to go back over the field. As each was in an indolent mood, +they both gave way a little and split the difference by wandering along +the waterside, conversing softly about many things--as to how long it +would take the seed of the four-o'clock to "sail away, away, over the +river," and why a nice brown frog that they came across was not getting +ready for bed like the birdies. There is no such sweet distraction as an +excursion into Children's Land, and Sophia wandered quite away with this +talkative baby, until she found herself suddenly cast out of Dottie's +magic province as she stood beyond the trees that edged the first field +not far from the fence of the Harmon garden. And that which had broken +the spell was the appearance of Alec Trenholme. He came right up to her, +as if he had something of importance to say, but either shyness or a +difficulty in introducing his subject made him hesitate. Something in +his look caused her to ask lightly: + +"Have you seen a ghost?" + +"Yes." + +"Are you in earnest?" + +"I am in earnest, and," added he, somewhat dubiously, "I think I am in +my right mind." + +He did not say more just then, but looked up and down the road in his +search for someone. In a moment he turned to her, and a current of +amusement seemed to cross his mind and gleamed out of his blue eyes as +he lifted them to hers. "I believe when I saw you I came to you for +protection." + +The light from pink tracts of sunset fell brightly upon field and +river, but this couple did not notice it at all. + +"There is no bogie so fearful as the unknown," she cried. "You +frightened me, Mr. Trenholme." + +"There is no bogie in the case," he said, "nor ghost I suppose; but I +saw someone. I don't know how to tell you; it begins so far back, and I +may alarm you when I tell you that there must be someone in this +neighbourhood of yours who has no right to be here." Then to her eager +listening he told the story that he had once written to his brother, and +added to it the unlooked for experience of the last half-hour. His +relation lacked clearness of construction. Sophia had to make it lucid +by short quick questions here and there. + +"I'm no good," he concluded, deprecating his own recital. "Robert has +all the language that's in our family; but do you know, miss, what it is +to see a face, and know that you know it again, though you can't say +what it was like? Have you the least notion how you would feel on being +fooled a second time like that?" + +The word of address that he had let fall struck her ear as something +inexplicable which she had not then time to investigate; she was aware, +too, that, as he spoke fast and warmly, his voice dropped into some +vulgarity of accent that she had not noticed in it before. These +thoughts glanced through her mind, but found no room to stay, for there +are few things that can so absorb for the time a mind alive to its +surroundings as a bit of genuine romance, a fragment of a life, or +lives, that does not seem to bear explanation by the ordinary rules of +our experience. + +That mind is dulled, not ripened, by time that does not enter with zest +into a strange story, and the more if it is true. If we could only learn +it, the most trivial action of personality is more worthy of our +attention than the most magnificent of impersonal phenomena, and, in +healthy people, this truth, all unknown, probably underlies that +excitement of interest which the affairs of neighbours create the +moment they become in any way surprising. + +Sophia certainly did not stop to seek an excuse for her interest. She +plied Alec with questions; she moved with him nearer the Harmon fence to +get a better look at the house; she assured him that Chellaston was the +last place in the world to harbour an adventurer. + +He was a little loth, for the sake of all the pathos of Bates's story, +to suggest the suspicion that had recurred. + +"I saw the face twice. It was first at Turrifs Station, far enough away +from here; and I saw it again in this house. As sure as I'm alive, I +believe it was a woman." + +They stood on the verge of the field where the grass sloped back from +the river. Sophia held the little child's hand in hers. The dusk was +gathering, and still they talked on, she questioning and exclaiming with +animation, he eager to enter the house again, a mutual interest holding +their minds as one. + +He began to move again impatiently. He wanted a candle with which to +search the rooms more carefully, and if nothing was found, he said, he +would go to the village and make what inquiries he could; he would leave +no stone unturned. + +Sophia would not let him go alone. She was already on perfectly familiar +terms with him. He seemed to her a delightful mixture of the ardent boy +and the man who, as she understood it, was roughened by lumberman's +life. She lifted Dottie on her shoulder and turned homeward. "I will +only be a few minutes getting Harold and some candles; don't go without +us, I beg of you," she pleaded. + +He never thought of offering to carry the child, or call her brother for +her; his ideas of gallantry were submerged in the confusion of his +thoughts. He watched her tripping lightly with the child on her +shoulder. He saw her choose a path by the back of the white dairy +buildings, and then he heard her clear voice calling, "Harold! Harold!" +All up the yard's length to windows of house and stable he heard her +calling, till at length came the answering shout. In the silence that +followed he remembered, with a feeling of wonder, the shudder of +distaste that had come over him when he found that the other creature +with whom he had been dealing bore a woman's form. He could not endure +to think of her in the same moment in which he longed to hear Miss +Rexford's voice again and to see her come back. In the one case he could +not believe that evil was not the foundation of such eccentricity of +mystery; in the other he thought nothing, realised nothing, he only +longed for Sophia's return, as at times one longs for cool air upon the +temples, for balm of nature's distilling. He never thought that because +Sophia was a woman she would be sure to keep him waiting and forget the +candle. He felt satisfied she would do just what she said, and even to +his impatience the minutes did not seem long before he saw her return +round the same corner of the outbuildings, her brother beside her, +lantern in hand. + +So in the waning daylight the three went together to the Harmon house, +and found torn bits of letters scattered on floor and window-sill near +the spot where Alec had last seen the unlooked-for apparition. The +letters, to all appearance, had belonged to the dentist, but they were +torn very small. The three searched the house all through by the light +of more than one candle, and came out again into the darkness of the +summer night, for the time nothing wiser concerning the mystery, but +feeling entirely at home with one another. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Although Mrs. Rexford had been without an indoor servant for several +months of the winter, she had been fortunate enough to secure one for +the summer. Her dairy had not yet reached the point of producing +marketable wares, but it supplied the family and farm hands with milk +and butter, and, since the cows had been bought in spring, the one +serving girl had accomplished this amount of dairy work satisfactorily. +The day after Sophia and Harold had made their evening excursion through +the Harmon house, this maid by reason of some ailment was laid up, and +the cows became for the first time a difficulty to the household, for +the art of milking was not to be learnt in an hour, and it had not yet +been acquired by any member of the Rexford family. + +Harold was of course in the fields. Sophia went to the village to see if +she could induce anyone to come to their aid; but, hard as it was to +obtain service at any time, in the weeks of harvest it was an +impossibility. When she returned, she went in by the lane, the yard, and +the kitchen door. All the family had fallen into the habit of using this +door more than any other. Such habits speak for themselves. + +"Mamma!"--she took off her gloves energetically as she spoke--"there is +nothing for it but to ask Louise to get up and do the milking--the mere +milking--and I will carry the pails." + +Louise was the pale-faced Canadian servant. She often told them she +preferred to be called "Loulou," but in this she was not indulged. + +Mrs. Rexford stirred Dottie's porridge in a small saucepan. Said she, +"When Gertrude Bennett is forced to milk her cows, she waits till after +dark; her mother told me so in confidence. Yes, child, yes"--this was to +Dottie who, beginning to whimper, put an end to the conversation. + +Sophia did not wait till after dark: it might be an excellent way for +Miss Bennett, but it was not her way. Neither did she ask her younger +sisters to help her, for she knew that if caught in the act by any +acquaintance the girls were at an age to feel an acute distress. She +succeeded, by the administration of tea and tonic, in coaxing the +servant to perform her part. Having slightly caught up her skirts and +taken the empty pails on her arms, Sophia started ahead down the lane. + +Just then some one turned in from the road. It was Eliza, and she was +in too much haste to take heed of the milking gear. + +"Oh, Miss Sophia. I'm so glad I've met you, and alone. We've been so +busy at the hotel with a cheap excursion, I've been trying all day to +get a word to you. Look here!" (she thrust some crumpled letters into +Sophia's hand) "I thought you'd better see those, and say something to +the girls. They'll get themselves into trouble if they go on as silly as +this. It seems it's some silly 'post office' they've had in a tree +between them and that Harkness. I've had that letter from him, and +certainly, Miss Sophia, if he's as much to blame as them, he's acted +civil enough now. He had a better heart than most men, I believe, for +all he bragged about it. He forgot where he had thrown their letters as +waste paper, and you'll see by that letter of his he took some trouble +to write to me to go and get them, for fear they should be found and the +girls talked about." + +Sophia stood still in dismay. + +"There!" said Eliza, "I knew you'd feel hurt, but I thought you'd better +know for all that. There's no harm done, only they'd better have a good +setting down about it." She began to turn back again. "I must go," she +said, "the dining-room girls are rushed off their feet; but if I were +you, Miss Sophia, I wouldn't say a word to anyone else about it. Some +one came in while I was getting these letters, but it was dark and I +dodged round and made off without being seen, so that I needn't explain. +It wouldn't do for the girls, you know--" + +Sophia turned the letters about in her hand. One was from Cyril Harkness +to Eliza; the others were poor, foolish little notes, written by Blue +and Red. Louise came out of the yard and passed them into the field, and +Sophia thrust the letters into her dress. + +That Eliza should naďvely give her advice concerning the training of her +sisters was a circumstance so in keeping with the girl's force of +character that her late mistress hardly gave it a thought, nor had she +time at that moment to wonder where the letters had been left and found. +It was the thought that the family reputation for sense and sobriety had +apparently been in the hands of an unprincipled stranger, and had been +preserved only by his easy good-nature and by Eliza's energy, that +struck her with depressing and irritating force. Had the girls come in +her way just then, the words she would have addressed to them would have +been more trenchant than wise, but as Eliza was by her side, retreating +towards the road, she felt no desire to discuss the matter with her. + +She observed now that Eliza looked worn and miserable as she had never +seen her look before, unless, indeed, it had been in the first few days +she ever saw her. The crowded state of the hotel could hardly account +for this. "I hope, Eliza, that having despised that suitor of yours when +he was here, you are not repenting now he is gone." + +The girl looked at her dully, not understanding at first. + +"Speaking of Cyril Harkness?" she cried; "good gracious, no, Miss +Sophia." But the response was not given in a sprightly manner, and did +not convey any conviction of its truth. + +"You must be working too hard." + +"Well, I needn't. I'll tell you a bit of good fortune that's come to me. +Mrs. Glass--one of our boarders--you know her?" + +"The stout person that comes to church in red satin?" + +"Yes; and she's rich too. Well, she's asked me to go and visit her in +Montreal in the slack time this next winter; and she's such a good +boarder every summer, you know, Mr. Hutchins is quite set on me going. +She's promised to take me to parties and concerts, and the big rink, and +what not. Ah, Miss Sophia, you never thought I could come that sort of +thing so soon, did you?" + +"And are you not going?" + +Sophia's question arose from a certain ring of mockery in Eliza's +relation of her triumph. + +"No, I'm not going a step. D'you think I'm going to be beholden to her, +vulgar old thing! And besides, she talks about getting me married. I +think there's nothing so miserable in the world as to be married." + +"Most women are much happier married." Sophia said this with orthodox +propriety, although she did not altogether believe it. + +"Yes, when they can't fend for themselves, poor things. But to be for +ever tied to a house and a man, never to do just what one liked! I'm +going to take pattern by you, Miss Sophia, and not get married." + +Eliza went back to the village, and Sophia turned toward the pasture and +the college. The first breath of autumn wind was sweeping down the road +to meet her. All about the first sparks of the great autumnal fire of +colour were kindling. In the nearer wood she noticed stray boughs of +yellow or pink foliage displayed hanging over the dark tops of young +spruce trees, or waving against the blue of the unclouded sky. It was an +air to make the heavy heart jocund in spite of itself, and the sweet +influences of this blithe evening in the pasture field were not lost +upon Sophia, although she had not the spirit now to wish mischievously, +as before, that Mrs. and Miss Bennett, or some of their friends, would +pass to see her carry the milk in daylight. It was a happy pride that +had been at the root of her defiance of public opinion, and her pride +was depressed now, smarting under the sharp renewal of the conviction +that her sisters were naughty and silly, and that their present training +was largely to blame. + +The Bennetts did not come by, neither did Mrs. Brown's carriage pass, +nor a brake from the hotel. Sophia had carried home the milk of two cows +and returned before anyone of the slightest consequence passed by. She +was just starting with two more pails when Alec Trenholme came along at +a fast trot on his brother's handsome cob. He was close by her before +she had time to see who it was, and when he drew up his horse she felt +strangely annoyed. Instinct told her that, while others might have +criticised, this simple-hearted fellow would only compassionate her +toil. Their mutual adventure of the previous evening had so far +established a sense of comradeship with him that she did not take refuge +in indifference, but felt her vanity hurt at his pity. + +At that moment the simple iron semi-circle which the milk maid used to +hold her pails off her skirts, became, with Sophia's handling, the most +complex thing, and would in no wise adjust itself. Alec jumped from his +horse, hung his bridle-rein over the gate-post as he entered the +pasture, and made as if to take the pails as a matter of course. + +Pride, vanity, conceit, whatever it may be that makes people dislike +kindness when their need is obvious, produced in her an awkward gaiety. +"Nay," said she, refusing; "why should you carry my milk for me?" + +"Well, for one thing, we live too near not to know you don't do it +usually." + +"Still, it may be my special pleasure to carry it to-night; and if not, +why should you help me with this any more than, for instance, in cooking +the dinner to-morrow? I assure you my present pastoral occupation is +much more romantic and picturesque than that." + +But he took the half-filled pails (she had not attempted to carry full +ones), and, pouring the contents of one into the other, proceeded to +carry it. + +"Since it is you who command," she cried, "shall I hold your horse in +the meantime?" + +With provoking literalism he gave a critical glance at the bridle. "He's +all right," he said, not caring much, in truth, whether the cob broke +loose or not. + +So she followed him across the road into the lane, because it hardly +seemed civil to let him go alone, and because he would not know what to +do with the milk when he got to the yard. She did not, however, like +this position. + +"Do you know," she began again, "that I am very angry with you, Mr. +Trenholme?" + +He wished for several reasons that she would cease her banter, and he +had another subject to advance, which he now brought forward abruptly. +"I don't know, Miss Rexford, what right I have to think you will take +any interest in what interests me, but, after what happened last night, +I can't help telling you that I've got to the bottom of that puzzle, and +I'm afraid it will prove a very serious matter for my poor friend +Bates." + +"What is it?" she cried, his latest audacity forgotten. + +"Just now, as I came out of the village, I met the person I saw in the +Harmon house, and the same I saw before, the time I told you of. It was +a woman--a young woman dressed in silk. I don't know what she may be +doing here, but I know now _who_ she must be. She must be Sissy Cameron. +No other girl could have been at Turrifs Station the night I saw her +there. She _is_ Sissy Cameron." (His voice grew fiercer.) "She must have +turned her father's hearse into a vehicle for her own tricks; and what's +more, she must, with the most deliberate cruelty, have kept the +knowledge of her safety from poor Bates all these months." + +"Stay, stay!" cried Sophia, for his voice had grown so full of anger +against the girl that he could hardly pour out the tale of her guilt +fast enough. "Where did you meet her? What was she like?" + +"I met her ten minutes ago, walking on this road. She was a great big +buxom girl, with a white face and red hair; perhaps people might call +her handsome. I pulled up and stared at her, but she went on as if she +didn't see me. Now I'm going in to tell Bates, and then I shall go back +and bring her to book. I don't know what she may be up to in Chellaston, +but she must be found." + +"Many people do think her handsome, Mr. Trenholme," said Sophia, for she +knew now who it was; "and she is certainly not--the sort of--" + +"Do you mean to say you know her?" + +"Yes, I know her quite well. I had something to do with bringing her to +Chellaston. I never knew till this moment that she was the girl you and +Mr. Bates have been seeking, and indeed--" She stopped, confused, for, +although it had flashed on her for the first time that what she knew of +Eliza's history tallied with his story, she could not make it all match, +and then she perceived that no doubt it was in the Harmon house that +Eliza had so faithfully sought the letters now held in her own hand. +"Really," she continued, "you mustn't go to work with this girl in the +summary manner you suggest. I know her too well to think anything could +be gained by that. She is, in a sense, a friend of mine." + +"Don't say she is a _friend_ of yours--_don't!_" he said, with almost +disgust in his tone. + +They had halted in the lane just outside the yard gate, and now he put +down the pail and turned his back on the still shut gate to speak with +more freedom. As he talked, the brisk air dashed about the boughs of the +spindling lilac hedge, shaking slant sunbeams upon the unpainted gate +and upon the young man and woman in front of it. + +Then, but in a way that was graphic because of strong feeling, Alec +Trenholme told the more real part of the story which he had outlined the +night before; told of the melancholy solitude in which Bates had been +left with the helpless old woman in a house that was bewitched in the +eyes of all, so that no servant or labourer would come near it. In talk +that was a loose mosaic of detail and generalisation, he told of the +woman's work to which the proud Scotchman had been reduced in care of +the aunt who in his infancy had cared for him, and how he strove to keep +the house tidy for her because she fretted when she saw housework +ill-done. He explained that Bates would have been reduced to hard +straits for want of the yearly income from his lumber had not he himself +"chanced" to go and help him. He said that Bates had gone through all +this without complaint, without even counting it hard, because of the +grief he counted so much worse--the loss of the girl, and the belief +that she had perished because of his unkindness. + +"For he _loved_ her, Miss Rexford. He had never had anyone else to care +for, and he had just centred his whole heart on her. He cared for her as +if she had been his daughter and sister, and--and he cared for her in +another way that was more than all. It was a lonely enough place; no one +could blame a woman for wanting to leave it; but to leave a man to think +her dead when he loved her!" + +Sophia was touched by the story and touched nearly also by the heart of +the man who told it, for in such telling the hearts of speaker and +listener beat against one another through finer medium than that which +we call space. But just because she was touched it was characteristic in +her to find a point that she could assail. + +"I don't see that a woman is specially beholden to a man because he +loves her against her will." + +"Do you mean to say"--fiercely--"that she was not beholden to him +because he taught her everything she knew, and was willing to work to +support her?" + +"Yes, certainly, she was under obligation for all his kindness, but his +being in love with her--that is different." + +But Alec Trenholme, like many people, could not see a fine point in the +heat of discussion. Afterwards, on reflection he saw what she had meant, +but now he only acted in the most unreasonable of ways. + +"Well, I don't see it as you do," he said; and then, the picture of +suppressed indignation, he took up the pail to go inside and dispose of +it. + +"I don't know how it can all be," said Sophia considering, "but I'm sure +there's a great deal of good in her." + +At this, further silence, even out of deference to her, seemed to him +inadequate. "I don't pretend to know how it can be; how she got here, or +what she has been doing here, dressed in silk finery, or what she may +have been masquerading with matches in the old house over there for. All +I know is, a girl who treated Bates as she did--" + +"No, you don't know any of these things. You have only heard one side +of the story. It is not fair to judge." + +"She has ruined his life, done as good as killed him. Why should you +take her part?" + +"Because there are always two sides to everything. I don't know much of +her story, but I have heard some of it, and it didn't sound like what +you have said. As to her being in the Harmon house--" Sophia stopped. + +"Do you mean to say," asked Alec, "that she has been living here all the +time quite openly?" + +"Yes--that is, she has given a false name, it seems, but, Mr. +Trenholme--" + +"If she has lied about her name, depend upon it she has lied about +everything else. I wouldn't want you to go within ten feet of her." + +Although the fallacy of such argument as Alec's too often remains +undetected when no stubborn fact arises to support justice, Sophia, with +her knowledge of Eliza, could not fail to see the absurdity of it. Her +mind was dismayed at the thought of what the girl had apparently done +and concealed, but nothing could make her doubt that the Eliza she knew +was different from the Sissy Cameron he was depicting. She did not +doubt, either, that if anything would bring out all the worst in her and +make her a thousand times more unkind to Bates, it would be the attack +Alec Trenholme meditated. She decided that she ought herself to act as +go-between. She remembered the scorn with which the patronage of a +vulgar woman had that evening been discarded, and whether Eliza herself +knew it or not, Sophia knew that this nicety of taste was due chiefly to +her own influence. The subtle flattery of this pleaded with her now on +the girl's behalf: and perceiving that Alec Trenholme was not amenable +to reason, she, like a good woman, condescended to coax him for reason's +sake. To a woman the art of managing men is much like the art of skating +or swimming, however long it may lie in disuse, the trick, once learnt, +is there to command. The milk, it seemed, must be taken down the cellar +steps and poured into pans. Then a draught of milk off the ice was given +to him. Then, it appeared, she must return to the pasture, and on their +way she pointed out the flowers that she had planted, and let him break +one that he admired. + +When they reached the field Sophia proffered her request, which was, +that he would leave his discovery in her hands for one day, for one day +only, she pleaded. She added that he might come to see her the next +afternoon, and she would tell him what explanation Eliza had to give, +and in what mood she would meet her unfortunate guardian. + +And Sophia's request was granted, granted with that whole-hearted +allegiance and entire docility, with a tenderness of eye and +lightsomeness of demeanour, that made her perceive that this young man +had not been so obdurate as he appeared, and that her efforts to appease +him had been out of proportion to what was required. + +When he mounted his horse and rode off unmindful of the last pail of +milk, for indeed his head was a little turned, Sophia was left standing +by the pasture gate feeling unpleasantly conscious of her own handsome +face and accomplished manner. If she felt amused that he should show +himself so susceptible, she also felt ashamed, she hardly knew why. She +remembered that in his eyes on a previous occasion which she had taken +as a signal for alarm on her part, and wondered why she had not +remembered it sooner. The thing was done now: she had petted and cajoled +him, and she felt no doubt that masculine conceit would render him blind +to her true motive. Henceforth he would suppose that she encouraged his +fancy. Sophia, who liked to have all things her own way, felt +disconcerted. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +After tea Sophia took Blue and Red apart into their little bedroom. An +old cotton blind was pulled down to shield the low window from passers +in the yard. The pane was open and the blind flapped. The room had +little ornament and was unattractive. + +"How could you write letters to that Mr. Harkness?" asked Sophia, trying +to be patient. + +"We didn't--exactly," said Blue, "but how did you know?" + +"At least--we did," said Red, "but only notes. What have you heard, +Sister Sophia? Has he"--anxiously--"written to papa?" + +"Written to papa!" repeated Sophia in scorn. "What should he do that +for?" + +"I don't know," said Red, more dejected. "It's"--a little pause--"it's +the sort of thing they do." + +Sophia drew in her breath with an effort not to laugh, and managed to +sigh instead. "I think you are the silliest girls of your age!" + +"Well, I don't care," cried Blue, falling from bashfulness into a pout, +and from a pout into tears. "I _don't_ care, so now. I think he was much +nicer--much nicer than--" She sat upon a chair and kicked her little +toes upon the ground. Red's dimpled face was flushing with ominous +colour about the eyes. + +"Really!" cried Sophia, and then she stopped, arrested by her own word. +How was it possible to present reality to eyes that looked out through +such maze of ignorance and folly; it seemed easier to take up a sterner +theme and comment upon the wickedness of disobedience and secrecy. Yet +all the time her words missed the mark, because the true sin of these +two pretty criminals was utter folly. Surely if the world, and their +fragment of it, had been what they thought--the youth a hero, and their +parents wrongly proud--their action had not been so wholly evil! But how +could she trim all the thoughts of their silly heads into true +proportion? + +"I shall have to tell papa, you know; I couldn't take the responsibility +of not telling him; but I won't speak till this press of work is over, +because he is so tired, so you can be thinking how you will apologise to +him." + +Both Blue and Red were weeping now, and Sophia, feeling that she had +made adequate impression, was glad to pause. + +Red was the first to withdraw her handkerchief from dewy eyes. Her tone +and attitude seemed penitent, and Sophia looked at her encouragingly. + +"Sister Sophia"--meekly--"does he say in his letter where he is, +or--or"--the voice trembled--"if he's ever coming back?" + +For such disconsolate affection Sophia felt that the letter referred to +was perhaps the best medicine. "I will read you all that he says." And +she read it slowly and distinctly, as one reads a lesson to children. + + "Dear Eliza." + +"He didn't think she was 'dear'" pouted Blue. "He told us she was 'real +horrid.'" + +Sophia read on from the crumpled sheet with merciless distinctness. + + "Come to think of it, when I was coming off I threw all my + bills and letters and things down in a heap in the back kitchen at + Harmon's; and there were some letters there that those 'cute little + Rexford girls wrote to me. They were real spoony on me, but I wasn't + spoony on them one bit, Eliza, at least, not in my heart, which having + been given to you, remained yours intact; but I sort of feel a qualm + to think how their respected pa would jaw them if those _billets-doux_ + were found and handed over. You can get in at the kitchen window + quite easy by slipping the bolt with a knife; so as I know you have + a hankering after the Rexfords, I give you this chance to crib those + letters if you like. They are folded small because they had to be + put in a nick in a tree, called by those amiable young ladies, a + post-office." + + "I'm real sorry I made you cry, Eliza. It's as well I didn't remain or I + might have begun admiring of you again, which might have ended in + breaking my vow to be--Only your ex-admirer, + CYRIL, P. H----." + +"Oh!" cried Blue, her tears dried by the fire of injury, "we never +talked to him except when he talked to us--never!" + +"There's a postscript," said Sophia, and then she read it. + + "P.S. They used to cock their eyes at me when they saw me over + the fence. You had better tell them not to do it; I could not bear to + think of them doing it to anyone else." + +"Oh!" cried Red, "Oh--h! he never said to us that we cocked our eyes. He +said once to Blue that the way she curled her eyelashes at him was +_real_ captivating." + +Sophia rose delivering her final word: "Nothing could be more utterly +vulgar than to flirt with a young man who is beneath you in station just +because he happens to be thrown in your way." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +When Sophia went to the hotel next morning, Eliza was not to be found. +She was not in, and no one knew where she was. Mr. Hutchins was inclined +to grumble at her absence as an act of high-handed liberty, but Miss +Rexford was not interested in his comments. She went back to her work at +home, and felt in dread of the visit which she had arranged for Alec +Trenholme to make that day. She began to be afraid that, having no +information of importance with which to absorb his attention, he might +to some extent make a fool of himself. Having seen incipient signs of +this state of things, she took for granted it would grow. + +When the expected caller did come, Sophia, because the servant could +still do but little, was at work in the dairy, and she sent one of the +children to ask him to come into the yard. The dairy was a pleasant +place; it was a long low stone room, with two doors opening on the green +yard. The roof of it was shaded by a tree planted for that purpose, and +not many feet from its end wall the cool blue river ran. A queen could +not have had a sweeter place for an audience chamber, albeit there was +need of paint and repairs, and the wooden doorstep was almost worn away. + +Sophia, churn-handle in hand, greeted her visitor without apology. She +had expected that this churn-handle, the evidence of work to be done, +would act as a check upon feeling, but she saw with little more than a +glance that such check was superfluous; there was no sign of +intoxication from the wine of graciousness which she had held to his +lips when last she saw him. As he talked to her he stood on the short +white clover outside the door's decaying lintel. He had a good deal to +say about Bates, and more about Sissy Cameron, and Sophia found that she +had a good deal to say in answer. + +The churn was a hideous American patent, but light and very convenient. +They talked to the monotonous splash of the milk within, and as work was +not being interrupted, Alec was at length asked to sit down on the worn +doorstep, and he remained there until the butter "came." He had gone up +in Sophia's esteem many degrees, because she saw now that any escape of +warmer sentiment had been involuntary on his part. She blessed him in +her heart for being at once so susceptible and so strong. She fancied +that there was a shade of sadness in his coolness which lent it +attraction. With that shadow of the epicurean which is apt to be found +upon all civilised hearts, she felt that it did her good to realise how +nice he was, just as a fresh flower or a strong wind would have done her +good. She said to him that she supposed he would not be staying much +longer in Chellaston, and he replied that as soon as Bates would go and +his brother was on his feet again he intended to leave for the West. +Then he begged her to lose no time in seeing Eliza, for Bates had taken +to hobbling about the roads, and he thought a sudden and accidental +meeting with the girl might be the death of him. + +Now this assertion of Alec's, that Bates had taken to walking out of +doors, was based on the fact told him by Mrs. Martha and his brother, +that the day before Bates had wilfully walked forth, and after some +hours came back much exhausted. "Where did you go?" Alec had asked him +fiercely, almost suspecting, from his abject looks, that he had seen the +girl. He could, however, learn nothing but that the invalid had walked +"down the road and rested a while and come back." Nothing important had +happened, Alec thought; and yet this conclusion was not true. + +That which had happened had been this. John Bates, after lying for a +week trying to devise some cunning plan for seeing Sissy without +compromising her, and having failed in this, rose up in the sudden +energy of a climax of impatience, and, by dint of short stages and many +rests by the roadside, found his way through the town, up the steps of +the hotel, and into its bar-room. No one could hinder him from going +there, thought he, and perchance he might see the lassie. + +Years of solitude, his great trouble, and, lastly, the complaint which +rendered him so obviously feeble, had engendered in his heart a shyness +that made it terrible to him to go alone across the hotel verandah, +where men and women were idling. In truth, though he was obviously ill, +the people noticed him much less than he supposed, for strangers often +came there; but egotism is a knife which shyness uses to wound itself +with. When he got into the shaded and comparatively empty bar-room, he +would have felt more at home, had it not been for the disconsolate +belief that there was one at home in that house to whom his presence +would be terribly unwelcome. It was with a nightmare of pain and +desolation on his heart that he laid trembling arms upon the bar, and +began to chat with the landlord. + +"I'm on the look-out for a young man and a young woman," said he, +"who'll come and work on my clearing;" and so he opened talk with the +hotel-keeper. He looked often through the door into the big passage, but +Sissy did not pass. + +Now Mr. Hutchins did not know of anyone to suit Bates's requirements, +and he did know that the neighbourhood of Chellaston was the most +unlikely to produce such servants, but, having that which was +disappointing to say, he said it by degrees. Bates ordered a glass of +cooling summer drink, and had his pipe filled while they discussed. The +one tasted to him like gall, and the fumes of the other were powerless +to allay his growing trepidation, and yet, in desperate adventure, he +stayed on. + +Hutchins, soon perceiving that he was a man of some education, and +finding out that he was the oft-talked-of guest of "The Principal," +continued to entertain him cheerfully enough. "Now," said he, "talking +of people to help, I've got a girl in my house now--well, I may say I +fell on my feet when I got her." Then followed a history of his dealings +with Eliza, including an account of his own astuteness in perceiving +what she was, and his cleverness in securing her services. Bates +listened hungrily, but with a pang in his heart. + +"Aye," said he outwardly, "you'll be keeping a very quiet house here." + +"You may almost call it a religious house," said Hutchins, taking the +measure of his man. "Family prayer every Sunday in the dining-room for +all who likes. Yes," he added, rubbing his hand on his lame knee, +"Canadians are pious for the most part, Mr. Bates, and I have the illeet +of two cities on _my_ balconies." + +Other men came in and went out of the room. Women in summer gowns passed +the door. Still Bates and Hutchins talked. + +At last, because Bates waited long enough, Eliza passed the door, and +catching sight of him, she turned, suddenly staring as if she knew not +exactly what she was doing. There were two men at the bar drinking. +Hutchins, from his high swivel chair, was waiting upon them. They both +looked at Eliza; and now Bates, trembling in every nerve, felt only a +weak fear lest she should turn upon him in wrath for being unfaithful, +and summoned all his strength to show her that by the promise with which +he had bound himself he would abide. He looked at her as though in very +truth he had never seen her before. And the girl took his stony look as +if he had struck her, and fell away from the door, so that they saw her +no longer. + +"Looked as if she'd seen someone she knew in here," remarked Hutchins, +complacently. He was always pleased when people noticed Eliza, for he +considered her a credit to the house. + +The others made no remark, and Bates felt absurdly glad that he had seen +her, not that it advanced his desire, but yet he was glad; and he had +shown her, too, that she need not fear him. + +And Eliza--she went on past the door to the verandah, and stood in sight +of the boarders, who were there, in sight of the open street; but she +did not see anyone or anything. She was too common a figure at that door +to be much noticed, but if anyone had observed her it would have been +seen that she was standing stolidly, not taking part in what was before +her, but that her white face, which never coloured prettily like other +women's, bore now a deepening tint, as if some pale torturing flame were +lapping about her; there was something on her face that suggested the +quivering of flames. + +In a few minutes she went back into the bar-room. + +"Mr. Hutchins," she said, and here followed a request, that was almost a +command, that he should attend to something needing his oversight in the +stable-yard. + +Hutchins grumbled, apologised to Bates; but Eliza stood still, and he +went. She continued to stand, and her attitude, her forbidding air, the +whole atmosphere of her presence, was such that the two men who were on +the eve of departure went some minutes before they otherwise would have +done, though perhaps they hardly knew why they went. + +"Mr. Bates! You're awfully angry with me, Mr. Bates, I'm afraid." + +He got up out of his chair, in his petty vanity trying to stand before +her as if he were a strong man. "Angry!" he echoed, for he did not know +what he said. + +"Yes, you're angry; I know by the way you looked at me," she complained +sullenly. "You think I'm not fit to look at, or to speak to, and--" + +They stood together in the common bar-room. Except for the gay array of +bottles behind the bar the place was perfectly bare, and it was open on +all sides. She did not look out of door or windows to see who might be +staring at them, but he did. He had it so fixed in his faithful heart +that he must not compromise her, that he was in a tremor lest she should +betray herself. He leaned on the back of his chair, breathing hard, and +striving to appear easy. + +"No, but I'm thinking, Sissy--" + +"You're dreadfully ill, Mr. Bates, I'm afraid." + +"No, but I was thinking, Sissy, I must see ye again before I go. I've +that to say to ye that must be said before I go home." + +"Home!" She repeated the word like the word of a familiar language she +had not heard for long. "Are you going home?" + +"Where will ye see me?" he urged. + +"Anywhere you like," she said listlessly, and then added with sudden +determination, "I'll come." + +"Hoots!" he said, "_where_ will ye come?" + +"Where?" she said, looking at him keenly as if to gauge his strength or +weakness. "You're not fit to be much on your feet." + +"Can you come in the bush at the back of the college? It would be +little harm for you to speak to me there. When can ye come?" + +"To-morrow morning." + +"How can ye come of a morning? Your time's not your own." + +"I say I'll come." She enunciated the words emphatically as Hutchins's +crutches were heard coming near the door. Then she left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +The wood behind the college grounds and Captain Rexford's pasture had +appeared to Bates to be a place possessed only by the winds of heaven +and by such sunshine and shadow as might fall to its share. He had +formed this estimate of it while he had lain for many days watching the +waving of its boughs from out his window, and therefore he had named it +to Eliza as a place where he could talk to her. Eliza well knew that +this wood was no secluded spot in the season of summer visitors, but she +was in too reckless a mood to care for this, any more than she cared for +the fact that she had no right to leave the hotel in the morning. She +left that busy house, not caring whether it suffered in her absence or +not, and went to the appointed place, heedless of the knowledge that she +was as likely as not to meet with some of her acquaintances there. Yet, +as she walked, no one seeing her would have thought that this young +woman had a heart rendered miserable by her own acts and their +legitimate outcome. In her large comeliness she suggested less of +feeling than of force, just as the gown she wore had more pretension to +fashion than to grace. + +When she entered the wood it was yet early morning. Bates was not there. +She had come thus early because she feared hindrance to her coming, not +because she cared when he came. She went into the young spruce fringes +of the wood near the Rexford pasture, and sat down where she had before +sat to watch Principal Trenholme's house. The leaves of the elm above +her were turning yellow; the sun-laden wind that came between the spruce +shades seemed chill to her; she felt cold, an unusual thing for her, and +the time seemed terribly long. When she saw Bates coming she went to the +more frequented aisles of the trees to meet him. + +Bates had never been a tall man, but now, thin and weak, he seemed a +small one, although he still strove to hold himself up manfully. His +face this day was grey with the weariness of a sleepless night, and his +enemy, asthma, was hard upon him--a man's asthma, that is a fierce thing +because it is not yielded to gracefully, but is struggled against. + +"Oh, but you're ill, Mr. Bates," she said, relapsing into that repeated +expression of yesterday. + +"I'm no so ill as I--I seem," he panted, "but that's neither here--nor +there." + +This was their greeting. Round them the grass was littered by old picnic +papers, and this vulgar marring of the woodland glade was curiously akin +to the character of this crucial interview between them, for the beauty +of its inner import was overlaid with much that was common and garish. A +rude bench had been knocked together by some picnicker of the past, and +on this Bates was fain to sit down to regain his breath. Sissy stood +near him, plucking at some coloured leaves she had picked up in her +restlessness. + +"You think of going back to the old place," she said, because he could +not speak. + +"Aye." + +"Miss Bates is keeping pretty well?"--this in conventional tone that was +oddly mortised into the passionate working of her mind. + +"Oh, aye." + +"Why wouldn't you sell it and live in a town?" + +"It's the only air there I can be breathing," said he; the confession +was wrung from him by his present struggle for breath. "I'm not fit for +a town." + +"I hear them saying down at the hotel that you're awfully ill." + +"It's not mortal, the doctor says." + +"You'll need someone to take care of you, Mr. Bates." + +"Oh, I'll get that." + +He spoke as if setting aside the subject of his welfare with impatience, +and she let it drop; but because he was yet too breathless to speak his +mind, she began again: + +"I don't mind if you don't sell, for I don't want to get any money." + +"Oh, but ye can sell when I'm gone; it'll be worth more then than now. +I'm just keeping a place I can breathe in, ye understand, as long as I +go on breathing." + +She pulled the leaves in her hand, tearing them lengthwise and +crosswise. + +"What I want--to ask of ye now is--what I want to ask ye first is a +solemn question. Do ye know where your father's corpse--is laid?" + +"Yes, I know," she said. "He didn't care anything about cemeteries, +father didn't." + +He looked at her keenly, and there was a certain stern setting of his +strong lower jaw. His words were quick: "Tell on." + +"'Twas you that made me do it," said she, sullenly. + +"Do what? What did ye do?" + +"I buried my father." + +"Did ye set Saul to do it?" + +"No; what should I have to do asking a man like Saul?" + +"Lassie, lassie! it's no for me to condemn ye, nor maybe for the dead +either, for he was whiles a hard father to you, but I wonder your own +woman's heart didn't misgive ye." + +Perhaps, for all he knew, it had misgiven her often, but she did not say +so now. + +"In the clearin's all round Turrifs they buried on their own lands," +she said, still sullen. + +"Ye buried him on his own land!" he exclaimed, the wonder of it growing +upon him. "When? Where? Out with it! Make a clean breast of it." + +"I buried him that night. The coffin slipped easy enough out of the +window and on the dry leaves when I dragged it. I laid him between the +rocks at the side, just under where the bank was going to fall, and then +I went up and pushed the bank down upon him." She looked up and cried +defiantly: "Father'd as soon lie there as in a cemetery!" Although it +was as if she was crushing beneath her heel that worship of +conventionality which had made Bates try to send the body so far to a +better grave, there was still in her last words a tone of pathos which +surprised even herself. Something in the softening influences which had +been about her since that crisis of her young life made her feel more +ruth at the recital of the deed than she had felt at its doing. "I made +a bed of moss and leaves," she said, "and I shut up the ledge he lay in +with bits of rock, so that naught could touch him." + +"But--but I dug there," cried Bates. (In his surprise the nervous +affection of his breath had largely left him.) "I dug where the bank had +fallen; for I had strange thoughts o' what ye might have been driven to +when I was long alone, and I dug, but his body wasna' there." + +It was curious that, even after her confession, he should feel need to +excuse himself for his suspicion. + +"There was a sort of cleft sideways in the rock at the side of the +stream; you'd never have seen it, for I only saw it myself by hanging +over, holding by a tree. No one would ever have thought o' digging there +when I'd closed up the opening with stones; I thought o' that when I put +him in." + +He got up and took a step or two about, but he gave no gesture or prayer +or word of pain. "The sin lies at my door," he said. + +"Well, yes, Mr. Bates, you drove me to it, but--" + +Her tone, so different from his, he interrupted. "Don't say 'but,' +making it out less black. Tell what ye did more." + +Then she told him, coolly enough, how she had arranged the bedclothes to +look as though, she slept under them: how she had got into the box +because, by reason of the knot-hole in the lid, she had been able to +draw it over her, and set the few nails that were hanging in it in their +places. She told him how she had laughed to herself when he took her +with such speed and care across the lake that was her prison wall. She +told him that, being afraid to encounter Saul alone, she had lain quiet, +intending to get out at Turrifs, but that when she found herself in a +lonely house with a strange man, she was frightened and ran out into the +birch woods, where her winding-sheet had been her concealment as she ran +for miles among the white trees; how she then met a squaw who helped her +to stop the coming railway train. + +"We lit a fire," she said, "and the Indian woman and the children stood +in the light of it and brandished; and further on, where it was quite +dark, we had got a biggish log or two and dragged them across the track, +so when the train stopped the men came and found them there; and I went +round to the back and got on the cars when all the men were off and they +didn't come near me till morning. I thought they'd find me, and I'd got +money to pay, but I got mixed up with the people that were asleep. I +gave the squaw one of your aunt's gold pieces for helping, but"--with a +sneer--"the passengers gave her money too. I made sure she'd not tell on +me, for if she had she'd have got in jail for stopping the train." + +"Puir body," said he; "like enough all she had seen o' men would make +her think, too, she had no call to say anything, though she must have +known of the hue and cry in the place." + +"More like she wanted to save herself from suspicion of what she had +done," said Eliza, practically. + +She still stood before him on the path, the strong firm muscles of her +frame holding her erect and still without effort of her will. The +stillness of her pose, the fashionableness of gown and hat, and the +broad display of her radiant hair, made a painful impression on Bates as +he looked, but the impression on two other men who went by just then was +apparently otherwise. They were a pair of young tourists who stared as +they passed. + +"By Jove, what a magnificent girl!" said one to the other just before +they were out of hearing. There was that of consciousness in his tone +which betrayed that he thought his own accents and choice words were +well worthy her attention. + +Eliza turned her back to the direction in which the strangers had gone, +thus covering the spare man to whom she was talking from their backward +glances. Bates, who was looking up at her face with his heart-hunger in +his eyes, saw a look of contempt for the passing remark flit across her +face, and because of the fond craving of his own heart, his sympathy, +strangely enough, went out to the young man who had spoken, rather than +to her sentiment of contempt. The angel of human loves alone could tell +why John Bates loved this girl after all that had passed, but he did +love her. + +And perceiving now that she had told what she had to tell, he turned his +mind to that something that lay on his mind to say to her. With the +burden of the thought he rose up again from his rude seat, and he held +up his head to look at her as with effort; she was so tall, that he +still must needs look up. + +"All's said that need be said, Sissy, between us two." His voice was +almost hard because he would not betray his wistfulness. "Ye have chosen +your own way o' life, and I willna raise a cry to alter it; I'm no fit +for that. If I could shape ye to my pleasure, I see now I'd make a poor +thing of it. Ye can do better for yourself if--if"--his square jaw +seemed almost to tremble--"if ye'll have a heart in ye, lassie. Forgive +me if I seem to instruct ye, for I've no thought in me now that I could +make ye better if I tried." + +He stopped again, and she saw his weak frame moving nervously; she +thought it was for want of breath. + +"You're awfully ill, Mr. Bates," she said, in dulness repeating words +that she seemed to have got by heart. + +Her stupid pity stung him into further speech. + +"Oh, lassie, it's not because I'm fond of ye that I say it, for what +does it matter about me, but because of all the men in the world that +love women. It's God's voice through them to you; and (although I can't +rightly frame it into words) because God set men and women in families, +and gave them to have affections, I tell ye the soul in which the pride +o' life, or pleasure, or the like o' that, takes the place of the +affections is a lost soul." Again his harsh mouth trembled, and the +words came with effort. "Sissy Cameron, ye've not known a mother nor a +sister, and your father was hard, and I who loved ye was worse than a +brute, and I can't rightly say what I would; but when I'm gone, look +round ye; lassie, at the best women ye know that are wives and mothers, +and if ye can't greet at the things they greet at, and if ye laugh at +things they don't laugh at, and if ye don't fear to do the things they +fear, then, even if your cleverness should make ye queen o' the whole +world, God pity ye!" + +"Yes, Mr. Bates," she said, just as she used to when she said the +catechism to him and he admonished her. She had listened to him with +that dull half-attention which we give to good-sounding words when our +heart is only alert for something for which we yet wait. She had it +firmly in her mind that he was going to say something on which would +hang her future fate, that he would either still ask her, in spite of +all she had said, to go back with him, or would tell her that he would +not have her now, as the American had done. All her sensibilities lay, +as it were, numb with waiting; she had no purpose concerning the answer +she would make him; her mind was still full of invective and complaint; +it was also full of a dull remorse that might melt into contrition; +either or both must break forth if he said that which appealed to words +in her. + +When Bates saw, however, that the little sermon which he had wrung from +his heart with so much pain had not impressed her much, he felt as if he +had never known until then the sharpest pain of sorrow, for although he +did not know what he had hoped for, there had been hope in proportion to +effort, and disappointment, the acutest form of sorrow, cut him to the +heart. He did not moan or bewail, that was not his way. He stood holding +himself stiffly, as was his wont, and pain laid emphasis on the severe +and resolute lines upon his face, for a face that has long been lent as +a vehicle for stern thoughts does not express a milder influence, +although the depths of the heart are broken up. + +She looked at his face, and the main drift of what he had said was +interpreted by his look; she had expected censure and took for granted +that all this was reproof. + +"I don't see, Mr. Bates"--her tone was full of bitterness--"that you've +got any call to stand there handing me over as if I was a leper." + +To which he answered angrily, "Bairn, haven't I told you once and again +that take your sin on my own soul?" + +"Well then"--still in angry complaint--"what right have you to be +looking and talking of me as if nothing was to be expected of me but +ill?" + +So he believed that it was worse than useless to speak to her. He drew +his hand over his heavy eyebrows. He thought to himself that he would go +home now, that he would start that day or the next and never see her +again, and in the decision he began walking away, forgetting the word +"good-bye" and all its courtesy, because oblivious of everything except +that thought that he was unfit for anything but to go and live out his +time in the desolate home. But when he had got about twenty paces from +her he remembered that he had said no farewell, and turned, looked back, +and came to her again, his heart beating like a boy's. + +She stood where he had left her, sullen, with head slightly bent, and +tearing the same leaves. Bates recognised her beauty to the full, as +much as any other man could have done, but it only hurt him and made him +afraid. He looked at her, timid as a child, yet manfully ignoring his +timidity, he tried to smile to her as he said, + +"Bairn, I may never see ye in this world again; give your old teacher a +kiss." + +Eliza stared, then lent her face to be kissed. She was surprised at the +gentleness of his sparing caress, so surprised that when she lifted her +head she stood stock still and watched him till he was out of sight, +for, driven by the scourge of his feeling, he went away from her with +quick, upright gait, never looking back. + +She watched him till he disappeared into Trenholme's house. When she +walked home she did not sob or wipe her eyes or cover her face, yet when +she got to the hotel her eyes were swollen and red, and she went about +her work heedless that anyone who looked at her must see the +disfigurement of tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +In the latter part of that day Bates suffered a fierce attack of his +malady. Everyone in Trenholme's house, including the master himself on +crutches, became agile in their desire to alleviate the suffering, and +he received their ministrations with that civility which denoted that, +had conventionality allowed, he would not have received them; for to +fling all that is given him at the heads of the givers is undoubtedly +the conduct that nature suggests to a man in pain. Having need, however, +of some help, Bates showed now, as before, an evident preference for +Alec as an attendant, a preference due probably to the fact that Alec +never did anything for him that was not absolutely necessary, and did +that only in the most cursory way. When Alec entered his room that +night to see, as he cheerfully remarked, whether he was alive or not, +Bates turned his face from the wall. + +"I think it right to tell ye," he began, and his tone and manner were so +stiff that the other knew something painful was coming, "I think it +right to tell ye that Eliza Cameron is alive and well. I have seen her." + +In his annoyance to think a meeting had occurred Alec made an +exclamation that served very well for the surprise that Bates expected. + +"Her father," continued Bates, "was decently buried, unknown to me, on +his own land, as is the custom in those parts of the country. The girl +was the person ye saw get up from the coffin--the one that ye were so +frightened of." + +This last word of explanation was apparently added that he might be +assured Alec followed him, and the listener, standing still in the +half-darkened room, did not just then feel resentment for the +unnecessary insult. He made some sound to show that he heard. + +"Then"--stiffly--"she took the train, and she has been living here ever +since, a very respectable young woman, and much thought of. I'm glad to +have seen her." + +"Well?" + +"I thought it right to tell ye, and I'm going home to-morrow or next +day." + +That was evidently all that was to be told him, and Alec refrained from +all such words as he would like to have emitted. But when he was going +dumbly out of the room, Bates spoke again. + +"Ye're young yet; when ye feel inclined to give your heart to any young +thing that you've a caring for, gie it as on the altar of God, and not +for what ye'll get in return, and if ye get in answer what ye're +wanting, thank God for a free gift." + +Then Alec knew that Sissy had been unkind to Bates. + +The night being yet early, he willingly recognised an obligation to go +and tell Miss Rexford that their mutual solicitude had in some way been +rendered needless. It was easy for him to find the lady he desired to +see, for while the weather was still warm it was the habit in Chellaston +to spend leisure hours outside the house walls rather than in, and Alec +Trenholme had already learned that at evening in the Rexford household +the father and brother were often exhausted by their day's work and +asleep, and the mother occupied by the cribs of her little ones. He +found the house, as usual, all open to the warm dry autumn evening, +doors and windows wide. The dusk was all within and without, except +that, with notes of a mother's lullaby, rays of candle light fell from +the nursery window. As his feet brushed the nearer grass, he dimly saw +Miss Rexford rise from a hammock swung on the verandah, where she had +been lounging with Winifred. She stood behind the verandah railing, and +he in the grass below, and they talked together on this subject that had +grown, without the intention of either, to be so strong a bond of +interest between them. Here it was that Alec could give vent to the pity +and indignation which he could not express to the man whose sufferings +excited these emotions. + +In spite of this visit Sophia sought Eliza again the next day. As she +entered the hotel Mr. Hutchins begged a word with her in his little +slate-painted office, saying that the young housekeeper had not been +like herself for some time, and that he was uneasy, for she made a +friend of no one. + +"Are you afraid of losing her?" asked Miss Rexford coldly, with slight +arching of her brows. + +He replied candidly that he had no interest in Eliza's joys or sorrows, +except as they might tend to unsettle her in her place. Having, by the +use of his own wits, discovered her ability, he felt that he had now a +right to it. + +Sophia went upstairs, as she was directed, to Eliza's bedroom on the +highest storey, and found her there, looking over piles of freshly +calendered house linen. The room was large enough, and pleasant--a +better bedroom than Sophia or her sisters at present possessed. Eliza +was apparently in high spirits. She received her guest with almost loud +gaiety. + +"What do you think's happened now, Miss Sophia?" cried she. "You +remember what I told you about Mrs. Glass? Well, there's two young +gentlemen come to the house here yesterday morning, and she's +entertained them before at her house in town, so they struck up great +friends with her here, and yesterday she had her supper served in the +upstairs parlour, and had them, and me, and nobody else. She says one of +them saw me out yesterday morning, and was 'smitten'--that's what she +calls it." + +Eliza gave an affected laugh as she repeated the vulgar word, and +coloured a little. "She says if I'll come to see her in town she's no +doubt but that he'll 'propose.'". + +"But I thought you were not going?" + +"I don't care for her," said Eliza, as if ingratitude were a virtue, +"but I rather like the young gentleman. That makes a difference. Look +here! She says he's getting on in business, and would give me a +carriage. How do you think I should look driving in a carriage, like +Mrs. Brown? Should I look as grand as she does?" + +"Much grander, I daresay, and much handsomer." + +"They all give dinner parties at Montreal." Eliza said this +reflectively, speaking the name of that city just as an English country +girl would speak of "London." "Don't you think I could go to dinner +parties as grand as any one? And, look here, they showed me all sorts of +photographs the Montreal ladies get taken of themselves, and one was +taken with her hair down and her side face turned. And Mrs. Glass has +been up here this afternoon, saying that her gentlemen friends say I +must be taken in the same way. She was fixing me for it. Look, I'll show +you how it is." + +Her great masses of hair, left loose apparently from this last visit, +were thrown down her back in a moment, and Eliza, looking-glass in hand, +sat herself sideways on a chair, and disposed her hair so that it hung +with shining copper glow like a curtain behind her pale profile. "What +do I look like, Miss Sophia?" + +"Like what you are, Eliza--a handsome girl." + +"Then why shouldn't I marry a rich man? It would be easier than drudging +here, and yet I thought it was grand to be here last year. It's easy +enough to get up in the world." + +"Yes, when anyone has the right qualities for it." + +"I have the right qualities." + +"Unscrupulousness?" interrogated Sophia; and then she charged the girl +with the falsehood of her name. + +Eliza put down her looking-glass and rolled up her hair. There was +something almost leonine in her attitude, in her silence, as she +fastened the red masses. Sophia felt the influence of strong feeling +upon her; she almost felt fear. Then Eliza came and stood in front of +her. + +"Is he _very_ ill, do you think, Miss Sophia?" + +"Not dangerously." Sophia had no doubt as to who was meant. "If he would +only take reasonable care he'd be pretty well." + +"But he won't," she cried. "On the clearin', when he used to take cold, +he'd do all the wrong things. He'll just go and kill himself doing like +that now, when he goes back there alone--and winter coming on." + +"Do you think you could persuade him not to go?" + +"He's just that sort of a man he'd never be happy anywhere else. He +hones for the place. No, he'll go back and kill himself. I'm sorry, but +it can't be helped. I'm _not_ sorry I came away from him; I'm not sorry +I changed my name, and did all the things I s'pose he's told you I did, +and that I s'pose you think are so wicked. I'd do it again if I was as +frightened and as angry. Was he to make me his slave-wife? _That's_ what +he wanted of me! I know the man!"--scornfully--"he said it was for my +good, but it was his own way he wanted." All the forced quiescence of +her manner had changed to fire. "And if you think that I'm unnatural, +and wicked to pretend I had a different name, and to do what I did to +get quit of him, then I'll go among people who will think it was clever +and a fine joke, and will think more about my fine appearance than about +being good all day long." + +Sophia was terribly roused by the torrent of feeling that was now +pouring forth, not more in words than in silent force, from the young +woman who stood over her. + +"Go!" she cried, "go to such people. Marry the man who cares for your +hair and your good looks. Urge him on to make money, and buy yourself +clothes and carriages and houses. I have no doubt you can do it! I tell +you, Eliza Cameron, such things are not much worth picking up at a gift, +let alone selling the nicer part of yourself for them!" + +The two had suddenly clashed, with word and feeling, the one against the +other. + +The window of Eliza's room was open, and the prospect from it had that +far-off peace that the prospect from high windows is apt to have. The +perfect weather breathed calm over the distant land, over the nearer +village; but inside, the full light fell upon the two women aglow with +their quarrel. + +Sophia, feeling some instinctive link to the vain, ambitious girl before +her, struck with words as one strikes in the dark, aiming at a depth and +tenderness that she dimly felt to be there. + +She believed in, and yet doubted, the strength in the better part of +Eliza's heart; believed, but spoke hurriedly, because she felt that a +chilly doubt was coming over her as to whether, after all, there was any +comprehension, any answering thrill, for the words she said. + +Her own stately beauty was at its height, at its loveliest hour, when +she spoke. She had been, in girlhood, what is called a beauty; she had +dazzled men's eyes and turned their heads; and when the first bloom was +past, she had gone out of the glare, having neither satisfied the world +nor been satisfied with it, because of the higher craving that is +worldly disability. She had turned into the common paths of life and +looked upon her beauty and her triumph as past. And yet, ten years +after the triumphs of her girlhood, this day, this hour, found her more +beautiful than she had ever been before. The stimulus of a new and more +perfect climate, the daily labour for which others pitied her, had done +their part. The angels who watch over prayer and effort and failure; and +failure and effort and prayer, had laid their hands upon her brow, +bestowing graces. As she sat now, speaking out of a full heart, there +came a colour and light that gave an ethereal charm to her handsome +face. There was no one there to see it; Eliza Cameron was not +susceptible to beauty. God, who created beauty in flowers and women, and +knew to the full the uses thereof, did not set flowers in gardeners' +shows nor women in ball-rooms. + +Sophia had spoken strongly, vividly, of the vanity of what men call +success, and the emptiness of what they call wealth, but Eliza, +self-centred, did not enter into this wide theme. + +"You despise me," she repeated sullenly, "because of what I have done." + +"What makes you think I despise you?" + +She did not intend to draw a confession on the false supposition that +Bates had already told all the story, but this was the result. Eliza, +with arms folded defiantly, stated such details of her conduct as she +supposed, would render her repulsive, stated them badly, and evoked that +feeling of repulsion that she was defying. + +Sophia was too much roused to need time for thought. "I cannot condemn +you, for I have done as bad a thing as you have done, and for the same +reason," she cried. + +Eliza looked at her, and faltered in her self-righteousness. "I don't +believe it," she said rudely. She fell back a pace or two, and took to +sorting the piles of white coverlets mechanically. + +"You did what you did because of everything in the world that you wanted +that you thought you could get that way; and, for the same reason, I +once agreed to marry a man I didn't like. If you come to think of it, +that was as horrid and unnatural; it is a worse thing to desecrate the +life of a living man than the death of a dead one. I stand condemned as +much as you, Eliza; but don't you go on now to add to one unnatural deed +another as bad." + +"Why did you do it?" asked Eliza, drawn, wondering, from the thought of +herself. + +"I thought I could not bear poverty and the crowd of children at home, +and that fortune and rank would give me all I wanted; and the reason I +didn't go through with it was that through his generosity I tasted all +the advantages in gifts and social distinction before the wedding day, +and I found it wasn't worth what I was giving for it, just as you will +find some day that all you can gain in the way you are going now is not +worth the disagreeableness, let alone the wrong, of the wrong-doing." + +"You think that because you are high-minded," said Eliza, beginning +again in a nervous way to sort the linen. + +"So are you, Eliza." Miss Rexford wondered whether she was true or false +in saying it, whether it was the merest flattery to gain an end or the +generous conviction of her heart. She did not know. The most noble +truths that we utter often seem to us doubtfully true. + +Now Sophia felt that what Eliza had said was only the fact--that it was +very sad that Mr. Bates should go ill and alone to his lonely home, but +that it could not be helped. To whatever degree of repentance and new +resolution Eliza might be brought, Sophia saw no way whatever of +materially helping Bates; but she urged the girl to go and visit him, +and say such kind and penitent things as might be in her power to say, +before he set forth on his melancholy journey. + +"No," said Eliza, "I won't go"; and this was all that could be obtained +from her. + +The visit was at an end. Sophia felt that it had been futile, and she +did not overlook the rebuff to herself. With this personal affront +rankling, and indignation that Eliza should still feel so resentful +after all that had been urged on behalf of Bates, she made her way into +the street. + +She was feeling that life was a weary thing when she chanced, near the +end of the village, to look back, and saw Alec Trenholme some way +behind, but coming in the same direction. Having her report to give, she +waited and brought him to her side. + +Sophia told all that had just passed, speaking with a restful feeling of +confidence in him. She had never felt just this confidence in a man +before; it sprang up from somewhere, she knew not where; probably from +the union of her sense of failure and his strength. She even told him +the analogy she had drawn between Eliza's conduct and the mistake of her +own life, alluding only to what all her little public knew of her deeds; +but it seemed to him that she was telling what was sacred to her +self-knowledge. He glanced at her often, and drank in all the pleasure +of her beauty. He even noticed the simplicity of the cotton gown and +leather belt, and the hat that was trimmed only with dried everlasting +flowers, such as grew in every field. As she talked his cane struck +sometimes a sharp passionate blow among plumes of golden-rod that grew +by their path, and snapped many a one. + +The roadside grass was ragged. The wild plum shrubs by the fences were +bronzed by September. In the fields the stubble was yellow and brown. +The scattered white houses were all agleam in the clear, cool sunshine. + +As he listened, Alec Trenholme's feeling was not now wrought upon at all +by what he was hearing of the girl who had stumbled in and out of his +life in ghostly fashion. Her masquerade, with all its consequences, had +brought him within near touch of another woman, whose personality at +this hour overshadowed his mind to the exclusion of every other +interest. He was capable only of thinking that Sophia was treating him +as a well-known friend. The compunction suppressed within him culminated +when, at her father's gate, Miss Rexford held out her hand for the +good-bye grasp of his. The idea that he was playing a false part became +intolerable. Impulsively he showed reluctance to take the hand. + +"Miss Rexford, I--I'm afraid you think--" + +Then he remembered the promise by which he was bound to let Robert tell +his own story. Confused, he seemed to know nothing but that he must +finish his sentence to satisfy the interrogation in her eyes. + +"You think I am a gentleman like Robert. I am only a--" + +"What?" she asked, looking upon him good-humouredly, as she would have +looked upon a blundering boy. + +"I am only a--a--cad, you know." + +His face had an uncomfortable look, hot and red. She was puzzled, but +the meaning that was in his thought did not enter hers. In a moment that +romantic didacticism which was one of the strongest elements in her +character had struck his strange words into its own music. + +"Oh, Mr. Trenholme!" she cried; "do not so far outdo us all in the grace +of confession. We are all willing to own ourselves sinners; but to +confess to vulgarity, to be willing to admit that in us personally there +is a vein of something vulgar, that, to our shame, we sometimes strike +upon! Ah, people must be far nobler than they are before that clause can +be added to the General Confession!" + +He looked at her, and hardly heard her words; but went on his way with +eyes dazzled and heart tumultuous. + +When at home he turned into the study, where his brother was still a +prisoner. The autumn breeze and sunshine entered even into this domain +of books and papers. The little garden was so brimful of bloom that it +overflowed within the window-sill. + +When he had loitered long enough to make believe that he had not come +in for the sake of this speech, Alec said, "I'm going to the West--at +least, when Bates is gone, I'll go; and, look here, I don't know that +I'd say anything to these people if I were in your case. Don't feel any +obligation to say anything on my account." + +Principal Trenholme was at his writing-table. "Ah?" said he, prolonging +the interrogation with benign inflection. + +"Have you come to doubt the righteousness of your own conclusions?" But +he did not discuss the subject further. + +He was busy, for the students and masters of the college were to +assemble in a few days; yet he found time in a minute or two to ask +idly, "Where have you been?" + +"For one thing, I walked out from the village with Miss Rexford." + +"And"--with eyes bent upon his writing--"what do you think of Miss +Rexford?" + +Never was question put with less suspicion; it was interesting to Robert +only for the pleasure it gave him to pronounce her name, not at all for +any weight that he attached to the answer. And Alec answered him +indifferently. + +"She has a pretty face," said he, nearing the door. + +"Yes," the other answered musingly, "yes; 'her face is one of God +Almighty's wonders in a little compass.'" + +But Alec had gone out, and did not hear the words nor see the dream of +love that they brought into the other's eyes. There was still hope in +that dream, the sort of hope that springs up again unawares from the +ground where it has been slain. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +It had not been continued resentment against Bates that had made Eliza +refuse Miss Rexford's request; it was the memory of the kiss with which +he had bade her good-bye. For two days she had been haunted by this +memory, yet disregarded it, but when that night came, disturbed by +Sophia's words, she locked out the world and took the thing to her heart +to see of what stuff it was made. + +Eliza lived her last interview with Bates over and over again, until she +put out her light, and sat by her bedside alone in the darkness, and +wondered at herself and at all things, for his farewell was like a lens +through which she looked and the proportion of her world was changed. + +There is strange fascination in looking at familiar scenes in +unfamiliar aspect. Even little children know this when, from some +swinging branch, they turn their heads downwards, and see, not their own +field, but fairyland. + +Eliza glanced at her past while her sight was yet distorted, it might +be, or quickened to clearer vision, by a new pulse of feeling; and, +arrested, glanced again and again until she looked clearly, steadily, at +the retrospect. The lonely farm in the hills was again present to her +eyes, the old woman, the father now dead, and this man. Bates, stern and +opinionated, who had so constantly tutored her. Her mind went back, +dwelling on details of that home-life; how Bates had ruled, commanded, +praised, and chidden, and she had been indifferent to his rule until an +hour of fear had turned indifference into hate. It was very strange to +look at it all now, to lay it side by side with a lover's kiss and this +same man her lover. + +Perhaps it was a sense of new power that thrilled her so strangely. It +needed no course of reasoning to tell her that she was mistress now, and +he slave. His words had never conveyed it to her, but by this sign she +knew it with the same sort of certainty we have that there is life in +breath. She had sought power, but not this power. Of this dominion she +had never dreamed, but she was not so paltry at heart but that it +humbled her. She whispered to herself that she wished this had not been; +and yet she knew that to herself she lied, for she would rather have +obliterated all else in the universe than the moment in which Bates had +said farewell. The universe held for her, as for everyone, just so much +of the high and holy as she had opened her heart to; and, poor girl, her +heart had been shut so that this caress of the man whose life had been +nearly wrecked by her deed was the highest, holiest thing that had yet +found entrance there, and it brought with it into the darkness of her +heart, unrecognised but none the less there, the Heaven which is beyond +all selfless love, the God who is its source. Other men might have +proffered lavish affection in vain, but in this man's kiss, coming out +of his humiliation and resignation, there breathed the power that moves +the world. + +She did not consider now whether Bates's suffering had been of his own +making or hers. She was not now engaged in an exercise of repentance; +compunction, if she felt it, came to her in a nervous tremor, a sob, a +tear, not in intelligible thought. Her memory gave her pictures, and the +rest was feeling--dumb, even within. She crouched upon the floor and +leaned her head against the bedside. Dry, trembling sobs came at +intervals, passing over her as if some outside force had shaken and left +her again; and sometimes, in the quiet of the interval, her lips smiled, +but the darkness was around. Then, at length, came tranquillity. Her +imagination, which had been strained to work at the bidding of memory, +in weariness released itself from hard reality, and in a waking dream, +touched, no doubt, into greater vividness by hovering hands of Sleep, +she found temporary rest. Dreams partake of reality in that that which +is and that which might be, are combined in their semblance of life. +Eliza saw the home she had so long hated and lived its life once more, +but with this difference, that she, her new present self, was there, and +into the old life she brought perforce what knowledge of the world's +refinements she had gained in her year of freedom. The knowledge seemed +to her much more important than it was, but such as it was, she saw it +utilised in the log house, and the old way of life thereby changed, but +changed the more because she, she the child Sissy, reigned there now as +a queen. It was this idea of reigning, of power, that surely now made +this dream--wild, impossible as she still felt it to be--pleasant. But, +as she pondered, arranging small details as a stimulated imagination is +wont to do, she became gradually conscious that if love were to reign +long, the queen of love would be not only queen but slave, and, as by +the inevitable action of a true balance, the slave of love would be a +ruler too. This new conception, as it at first emerged, was not +disagreeable. Her imagination worked on, mapping out days and months to +her fascinated heart. Then Sleep came nearer, and turned the +self-ordered dream into that which the dreamer mistook for reality. In +that far-off home she saw all the bareness and roughness of the lonely +life which, do what she would, she could not greatly alter; and there +again Bates kissed her; she felt his touch in all its reality, and in +her dream she measured the barrenness of the place against the knowledge +that her love was his life. + +The soul that lay dreaming in this way was the soul of a heavy-limbed, +ungracious woman. She lay now on the floor in ungainly attitude, and all +the things that were about her in the darkness were of that commonest +type with which ignorance with limited resource has essayed to imitate +some false ideal of finery, and produced such articles as furniture +daubed with painted flowers, jute carpets, and gowns beflounced and +gaudy. Yet this soul, shut off from the world now by the curtain of +sleep, was spoken to by an angel who blended his own being into +recollections of the day, and treated with her concerning the life that +is worthy and the life that is vain. + +Eliza awoke with a start. She raised herself up stiff and chilly. She +looked back upon her dream, at first with confusion and then with +contempt. She lit her lamp and the present was around her again. + +"No, I will not go," she said to herself. The words had been conned in +her fit of rudeness to Sophia Rexford that day, but now they had a wider +meaning. + +All sweet influences sent out from Heaven to plead with human hearts +withdrew for the time, for--such an awful thing is life--we have power +to repulse God. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Robert Trenholme was still obliged to rest his sprained ankle, and was +not yet going out, but an opportunity was afforded him of meeting his +friendly neighbours, at least the feminine portion of them, in company, +sooner than he anticipated. + +The day before the college reassembled it happened that the +sewing-circle connected with the church met at Mrs. Rexford's house. The +weather was unusually warm for the season; the workers still preferred +to sit out of doors, and the grass under the tree at the front of the +house was their place of meeting. About a dozen were there, among whom +Mrs. and Miss Bennett were conspicuous, when Mrs. Brown and her daughter +drove up, a little belated, but full of an interesting project. + +"Oh, Mrs. Rexford," they cried, "we have just thought of such a charming +plan! Why not send our carriage on to the college, and beg Principal +Trenholme to drive back here and sit an hour or two with us? It's so +near that, now he is so much better, the motion cannot hurt him; this +charming air and the change cannot fail to do him good, so confined as +he has been, and we shall all work with the more zeal in his presence." + +The plan was approved by all. If there were others there who, with +Sophia Rexford, doubted whether greater zeal with the needle would be +the result of this addition to their party, they made no objections. +They could not but feel that it would be a good thing for the invalid's +solitude to be thus broken in upon, for, for some reason or other, +Trenholme had been in solitude lately; he had neither invited visitors +nor embraced such opportunity as he had of driving out. + +Trenholme answered this invitation in person. The motherly members of +the party attended him at the carriage door when he drove up, and, with +almost affectionate kindness, conducted his limping steps to a reclining +chair that had been provided. His crutch, and a certain pensive pallor +on his countenance, certainly added to his attractions. Even Sophia +Rexford was almost humble in the attentions she offered him, and the +other maidens were demonstrative. In spite of such protestations as he +made, he was enthroned, as it were, in the most comfortable manner. Fur +sleigh robes were spread on the grass for a carpet, and the best of them +was used as a rug about his feet. + +The majority of women are best pleased by the company of a man whom +other men admire. Trenholme had never descended to being, even in +leisure hours, a mere "ladies' man"; if he had been that he would not +have had his present place in this company. Yet he was not bored by +finding himself the only man among so many women; he knew most of these +women, their faults and their worthiness, far too well not to be at ease +with them, even if he had troubled to give a second thought to their +largess of kindliness. He had responded to their unexpected call to meet +them together because he had something to say to them, and he said it +that afternoon in his own time and in his own way. Had he needed to +borrow dignity to sustain their jubilant welcome, his purpose would have +lent it to him, and, for the rest, all his heart was overshadowed and +filled with the consciousness of Sophia Rexford's presence. He had not +seen her since the night in which they had walked through midnight hours +together. He could not touch her hand without feeling his own tremble. +He did not look at her again. + +It was a pretty scene. The women, on their carpet of faded ox and +buffalo skins, were grouped on chairs and cushions. The foliage of the +maple tree above them was turning pink and crimson, shedding a glow as +of red curtains, and some of its leaves were already scattered upon the +ragged grass or on the shelving verandah roof of the wooden farmhouse. +The words that fell in small talk from the women were not unlike the +colour of these fading leaves--useless, but lending softness to the +hour. + +"And _your_ sewing-party will quite bear the palm for this season, Mrs. +Rexford, quite the palm; for no other has been honoured by the presence +of the Principal." + +It was Mrs. Bennett who spoke; her upright carriage, thin nose, and +clear even voice, carried always the suggestion of mild but obstinate +self-importance. + +The birdlike little hostess, confused by the misapplied praise, +remonstrated. "'Tis Mrs. Brown," cried she, "who bears the palm." + +Here the younger ladies, to whom nature had kindly given the saving +sense of humour, laughed a little--not too obviously--in concert with +the man thus lauded. + +Then they all fell to talking upon the latest news that Chellaston could +afford, which was, that a gentleman, a minister from the south of Maine, +had arrived, and by various explanations had identified the old preacher +who had been called Cameron as his father. It seemed that the old man +had long ago partially lost his wits--senses and brain having been +impaired through an accident--but this son had always succeeded in +keeping him in a quiet neighbourhood where his condition was understood, +until, in the beginning of the previous winter, the poor wanderer had +escaped the vigilance of his friends. It was partly on account of the +false name which had been given him that they had failed to trace him +until the circumstances of his tragic death were advertised. + +"The son is culpable. Mad people should be shut up where they can do no +mischief." About half the ladies present joined in this comment. + +Mrs. Rexford looked round uneasily to see that her young daughter +Winifred had not joined the party. Indiscreet usually, she was +wonderfully tender in these days of Winifred. + +"I am not sure that if he had been my father I would have shut him up." +Trenholme spoke and sighed. + +"If he had been my father," Sophia cried vehemently, "I would have gone +with him from village to village and door to door; I would rather have +begged my bread than kept him from preaching. I would have told the +people he was a _little_ mad, but not much, and saner than any of +_them_." + +There was enough sympathy with Sophia's vivacity among her friends to +make it easy to express herself naturally. + +"What is one false opinion more or less?" she cried. "Do any of us +imagine that _our_ opinions are just those held in heaven? This old man +had all his treasure in heaven, and that is, after all, the best +security that heart or mind will not go far astray." + +The youngest Miss Brown was sitting on the fur rugs, not very far from +Trenholme. She looked up at him, pretty herself in the prettiness of +genuine admiration. + +"It is such a pity that Miss Rexford is sitting just out of your sight. +You would be lenient to the heresy if you could see how becoming it is +to the heretic." + +But Trenholme was not seen to look round. He was found to be saying that +the son of the late preacher evidently held his father in reverence; it +seemed that the old man had in his youth been a disciple and preacher +under Miller, the founder of the Adventist sect; it was natural that, as +his faculties failed, his mind should revert to the excitements of the +former time. + +Mrs. Bennett had already launched forth an answer to Sophia's +enthusiasm. She continued, in spite of Trenholme's intervening remarks. +"When I was a girl papa always warned us against talking on serious +subjects. He thought we could not understand them." + +"I think it was good advice," said Sophia with hardihood. + +"Oh yes, naturally--papa being a dean--" + +Trenholme encouraged the conversation about the dean. It occurred to him +to ask if there was a portrait extant of that worthy. "We are such +repetitions of our ancestors," said he, "that I think it is a pity when +family portraits are lacking." + +Mrs. Bennett regretted that her father's modesty, the fortunes of the +family, etc.; but she said there was a very good portrait of her uncle, +the admiral, in his son's house in London. + +"I do not feel that I represent my ancestors in the least," said Miss +Bennett, "and I should be very sorry if I did." + +She certainly did not look very like her mother, as she sat with +affectionate nearness to Sophia Rexford, accomplishing more work in an +hour with her toil-reddened hands than her mother was likely to do in +two. + +"Ah, ladies' feelings!" Trenholme rallied her openly. "But whatever you +may _feel_, you assuredly do represent them, and owe to them all you +are." + +"Very true," said the mother approvingly. "Papa had black hair, +Principal Trenholme; and although my daughter's hair is brown, I often +notice in it just that gloss and curl that was so beautiful in his." + +"Yes, like and unlike are oddly blended. My father was a butcher by +trade, and although my work in life has been widely different from his, +I often notice in myself something of just those qualities which enabled +him to succeed so markedly, and I know that they are my chief reliance. +My brother, who has determined to follow my father's trade, is not so +like him in many ways as I am." + +If he had said that his father had had red hair, he would not have said +it with less emphasis. No one present would have doubted his +truthfulness on the one point, nor did they now doubt it on this other; +but no one mastered the sense and force of what he had said until +minutes, more or less in each case, had flown past, and in the meantime +he had talked on, and his talk had drifted to other points in the +subject of heredity. Sophia answered him; the discussion became general. + +Blue and Red came offering cups of tea. + +"Aren't they pretty?" said the youngest Miss Brown, again lifting her +eyes to Trenholme for sympathy in her admiration. + +"Sh--sh--," said the elder ladies, as if it were possible that Blue and +Red could be kept in ignorance of their own charms. + +A man nervously tired can feel acute disappointment at the smallest, +silliest thing. Trenholme had expected that Sophia would pour out his +tea; he thought it would have refreshed him then to the very soul, even +if she had given it indifferently. The cup he took seemed like some +bitter draught he was swallowing for politeness' sake. When it, and all +the necessary talk concerning it, were finished, together with other +matters belonging to the hour, he got himself out of his big chair, and +Mrs. Brown's horses, that had been switching their tails in the lane, +drove him home. + +The carriage gone, Mrs. Brown's curiosity was at hand directly. She and +Mrs. Rexford were standing apart where with motherly kindness they had +been bidding him good-bye. + +"I suppose, Mrs. Rexford, you know--you have always known--this fact +concerning Principal Trenholme's origin. I mean what he alluded to just +now." Mrs. Brown spoke, not observing Mrs. Rexford but the group in +which her daughters were prominent figures. + +Nothing ever impressed Mrs. Rexford's imagination vividly that did not +concern her own family. + +"I do not think it has been named to me," said she, "but no doubt my +husband and Sophia--" + +"You think they have known it?" It was of importance to Mrs. Brown to +know whether Captain Rexford and Sophia had known or not; for if they +knew and made no difference--"If Miss Rexford has not objected. She is +surely a judge in such matters!" + +"Sophia! Yes, to be sure, Sophia is very highly connected on her +mother's side. I often say to my husband that I am a mere nobody +compared with his first wife. But Sophia is not proud. Sophia would be +kind to the lowest, Mrs. Brown." (This praise was used with vaguest +application.) "She has such a good heart! Really, what she has done for +me and my children--" + +A light broke in upon Mrs. Brown's mind. She heard nothing concerning +Mrs. Rexford and her children. She knew now, or felt sure she knew, why +Miss Rexford had always seemed a little stiff when Trenholme was +praised. Her attitude towards him, it appeared, had always been that of +mere "kindness." Now, up to this moment, Mrs. Brown, although not a +designing woman, had entertained comfortable motherly hopes that +Trenholme might ultimately espouse one of her daughters, and it had +certainly advanced him somewhat in her favour that his early +acquaintance with Miss Rexford was an undisputed fact; but in the light +of what Mrs. Rexford had just said of her daughter's good-heartedness +all assumed a different aspect. Mrs. Brown was in no way "highly +connected," belonging merely to the prosperous middle class, but, with +the true colonial spirit that recognises only distance below, none +above, she began to consider whether, in the future, her rôle should not +be that of mere kindness also. To do her justice, she did not decide the +question just then. + +The voice of her youngest daughter was heard laughing rather +immoderately. "Indeed, Mrs. Bennett," she laughed, "we all heard him say +it, and, unlike you, we believed our ears. We'll draw up a statement to +that effect and sign our names, if that is necessary to assure you." + +Her mother, approaching, detected, as no one else did, a strain of +hysterical excitement in her laughter, and bid her rise to come home, +but she did not heed the summons. + +"Yes, he _did_ say it. That handsome brother of his, to whom I lost my +heart two weeks ago, does really--well, to put it plainly, knock animals +on the head, you know, and sell them in chops, and--what do you call it, +mamma?--the sirloin and brisket. 'How do you do, Mr. Trenholme? I want +some meat for dinner--chops, I think.' Oh, how I should love to go and +buy chops!" + +Sophia was kneeling over a pile of work, folding it. She asked the +boisterous girl for the cloth she had been sewing, and her voice was +hard and impatient, as if she wished the talk at an end. + +Mrs. Bennett arose and wrapped her cape about her thin shoulders, not +without some air of majesty. There was a bitter angry expression upon +her delicate face. + +"All that I wish to say in this matter is, that _I_ never knew this +before; others may have been in possession of these facts, but I was +not." + +"If you had been, of course you would have honoured him the more for +triumphing over difficulties," answered the elder Miss Brown, with +smooth sarcasm. + +"Yes, certainly _that_, of course; but I should have thought him very +unsuitably placed as an instructor of youth and--" + +The right adjustment of the cape seemed to interrupt the speech, but +others mentally supplied the ending with reference to Miss Bennett. + +"Miss Rexford, being one of Principal Trenholme's oldest friends, is not +taken by surprise." Some one said this; Sophia hardly knew who it was. +She knelt upright by the packing basket and threw back her head. + +"I met him often at my own uncle's house. My uncle knew him +_thoroughly_, and liked him well." + +Most of the women there were sensibly commenting on the amount of work +done, and allotting shares for the ensuing week. It would take a week at +least to rouse them to the state of interest at which others had already +arrived. + +Her cape adjusted, Mrs. Bennett found something else to say. "Of course, +personally, it makes no difference to me, for I have always felt there +was _something_ about Principal Trenholme--that is, that he was not--It +is a little hard to express; one feels, rather than speaks, these +things." + +It was a lie, but what was remarkable about it was that its author did +not know it for one. In the last half-hour she had convinced herself +that she had always suffered in Trenholme's presence from his lack of +refinement, and there was little hope that an imagination that could +make such strides would not soon discover in him positive coarseness. +As the party dispersed she was able to speak aside to Sophia. + +"I see how you look upon it," she said. "There is no difference between +one trade and another, or between a man who deals in cargoes of cattle +and one who sells meat in a shop."--She was weakly excited; her voice +trembled. "Looking down from a higher class, we must see that, although +all trades are in a sense praiseworthy, one is as bad as another." + +"They seem to me very much on a level," said Sophia. There was still a +hard ring in her voice. She looked straight before her. + +"Of course in this country"--Mrs. Bennett murmured something +half-audible about the Browns. "One cannot afford to be too particular +whom one meets, but I certainly should have thought that in our +pulpits--in our schools--" + +She did not finish. Her thin mouth was settling into curves that bespoke +that relentless cruelty which in the minds of certain people, is +synonymous with justice. + +It was a rickety, weather-stained chaise in which Mrs. Bennett and her +daughter were to drive home. As Miss Bennett untied the horse herself, +there was a bright red spot on either of her cheeks. She had made no +remark on the subject on which her mother was talking, nor did she speak +now. She was in love with Trenholme, that is, as much in love as a +practical woman can be with a man from whom she has little hope of a +return. She was not as pretty as many girls are, nor had she the +advantages of dress and leisure by which to make herself attractive. She +had hoped little, but in an honest, humble-minded, quiet way she had +preferred this man to any other. Now, although she was as different from +her mother as nature could make her, precepts with which her mind had +been plied from infancy had formed her thought. She was incapable of +self-deception, she knew that he had been her ideal man; but she was +also incapable of seeing him in the same light now as heretofore. + +Miss Bennett held the reins tight and gave her horse smart strokes of +the whip. The spiritless animal took such driving passively, as it +jogged down the quiet road by the enclosure of the New College. + +Unconscious that her words were inconsistent with what she had so lately +said, Mrs. Bennett complained again. "My nerves have received quite a +shock; I am all in a tremble." It was true; she was even wiping away +genuine tears. "Oh, my dear, it's a terribly low occupation. Oh, my +dear, the things I have heard they do--the atrocities they commit!" + +"I daresay what you heard was true," retorted Miss Bennett, "but it does +not follow that they are all alike." Without perceiving clearly the +extent of the fallacy, she felt called upon to oppose the +generalisations of a superficial mind. + +So they passed out of sight of Trenholme's house. Inside he sat at his +desk, plunged again in the work of writing business letters. We seldom +realise in what way we give out the force that is within us, or in what +proportion it flows into this act or that. Trenholme was under the +impression that what he had done that afternoon had been done without +effort? The effort, as he realised it, had come days and weeks before. +Yet, as he worked through the hours that were left of that day's light, +he felt a weariness of body and mind that was almost equivalent to a +desire for death. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Sophia Rexford stood and watched the last of the afternoon's company as, +some driving and some on foot, they passed in different directions along +the level road. It was a very peaceful scene. The neighbourhood lay +sunning itself in the last warmth of the summer, and the neighbours, to +all appearance, were moving homeward in utmost tranquillity. Sophia was +not at peace; she was holding stern rule over her mind, saying, "Be at +peace; who hath disturbed thee?" This rule lasted not many minutes; then +suddenly mutiny. "Good Heavens!" she cried within herself, "how +indiscreet I have been, making friends with these men. Shall I never +learn wisdom--I who have sought to direct others?" The recollections +that came caused her, in the sting of mortified pride, to strike her +hand with painful force against a chair near her. The bruise recalled +her to calm. The chair she had struck was that large one in which Robert +Trenholme had reclined. It aided her to ponder upon the man who had so +lately been seen on its cushions, and, in truth, her pondering +bewildered her. Why had he not said as much to her years before, and why +had he now said what he did, as he did? She thought she had known this +man, had fathomed him as to faults and virtues, though at some times she +rated their combination more reverently than at others. Truth to tell, +she had known him well; her judgment, impelled by the suggestion of his +possible love, had scanned him patiently. Yet now she owned herself at +fault, unable to construe the manner of this action or assign a +particular motive with which it was in harmony. It is by manner that the +individual is revealed (for many men may do the same deed), and a friend +who perforce must know a friend only by faith and the guessing of the +unseen by the seen, fastens instinctively upon signs too slight to be +written in the minutest history. At this moment, as Sophia stood among +the vacant seats, the scene of the conversation which had just taken +place, she felt that her insight into Robert Trenholme failed her. She +recalled a certain peace and contentment that, in spite of fatigue, was +written on his face. She set it by what he had said, and gained from it +an unreasoning belief that he was a nobler man than she had lately +supposed him to be; in the same breath her heart blamed him bitterly for +not having told her this before, and for telling it now as if, forsooth, +it was a matter of no importance. "How dare he?" Again herself within +herself was rampant, talking wildly. "How dare he?" asked Anger. Then +Scorn, demanded peace again, for, "It is not of importance to me," said +Scorn. + +Blue and Red and Winifred and the little boys came out to carry in the +chairs and rugs. A cool breeze came with the reddening of the sunlight, +and stirred the maple tree into its evening whispering. + +As Sophia worked with the children the turmoil of her thought went on. +Something constantly stung her pride like the lash of a whip; she turned +and shifted her mind to avoid it, and could not. + +She had deliberately deceived her friends when she had asserted that her +uncle had known all Trenholme's affairs. She had not the slightest doubt +now, looking back, that he had known--a thousand small things testified +to it; but he had not made a confidante of her, his niece, and she knew +that that would be the inference drawn from her assertion. She knew, +too, that the reason her uncle, who had died soon after, had not told +her was that he never dreamed that then or afterwards she would come +into intimate relationship with his protégé. To give the impression that +he, and she also, knowing Trenholme's origin, had overlooked it, was +totally false. Yet she did not regret this falsehood. Who with a spark +of chivalry would not have dealt as hard a blow as strength might permit +in return for so mean an attack on the absent man? But none the less did +her heart upbraid the man she had defended. + +Sophia stood, as in a place where two seas met, between her indignation +against the spirit Mrs. Bennett had displayed (and which she knew was +lying latent ready to be fanned into flame in the hearts of only too +many of Trenholme's so-called friends) and her indignation against +Trenholme and his history. But it was neither the one current of emotion +nor the other that caused that dagger-like pain that stabbed her pride +to the quick. It was not Robert Trenholme's concerns that touched her +self-love. + +She had gained her own room to be alone. "Heaven help me," she cried +(her ejaculation had perhaps no meaning except that she had need of +expletive), "what a fool I have been!" + +She rehearsed each meeting she had had with Alec Trenholme. How she had +dallied with him in fields and on the road, seeing now clearly, as never +before, how she had smiled upon him, how she had bewitched him. What +mischance had led her on? She sprang up again from the seat into which +she had sunk. "Mercy!" she cried in an agony of shame, "was ever woman +so foolish as I? I have treated him as a friend, and he is--!" + +Then for some reason, she ceased to think of herself and thought of him. +She considered: had he made no effort? had he felt no pain? She saw how +he had waveringly tried to avoid her at first, and how, at last, he had +tried to warn her. She thought upon the epithet he had applied to +himself when trying to explain himself to her: she lifted her head +again, and, in a glow of generous thought, she felt that this was a +friend of whom no one need be ashamed. + +The bell for the evening meal rang. There are hours in which we +transcend ourselves, but a little thing brings us back to the level on +which we live. As Sophia hastily brushed her dark hair, mortified pride +stabbed her again, and scorn again came to the rescue. "What does it +matter? It would have been better, truly, if I had had less to do with +him, but what has passed is of no importance to anyone, least of all to +me!" + +As she had begun at first to rule her heart, so did she rule it all that +evening. But when she was again within her room alone she lingered, +looking out of her small casement at the fields where she had met Alec +Trenholme, at the road where she walked with him: all was white and cold +now in the moonlight. And soon she leaned her head against the pane and +wept. + +Those are often the bitterest tears for which we can furnish no definite +cause; when courage fails, we see earth only through our tears, and all +form is out of proportion, all colour crude, all music discord, and +every heart a well of evil, and we bewail, not our own woes only, but +the woe of the world. So this proud woman wept, and prayed God wildly to +save the world out of its evil into His good--and did not, could not, +tell herself what was the exciting cause of her tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Just as that day had turned rosy at the close and then white with the +lesser light of night, so did the summer now fade away in a blaze of +colour, giving one last display of what life could do before leaving the +land to the shroud of the winter's snow. Cool bracing winds, of which +there had already been foretaste, now swept the land. The sun seemed +brighter because the air was clearer. The college boys had returned, and +were heard daily shouting at their games. A few days made all this +outward difference. No other difference had as yet come about. + +Now that harvest was over and Captain Rexford was more at leisure, +Sophia felt that she must no longer postpone the disagreeable duty of +speaking to him seriously about his younger daughters. She chose an hour +on Sunday when he and she were walking together to a distant point on +the farm. She told the story of the flirtation of poor little Blue and +Red slightly, for she felt that to slight it as much as possible was to +put it in its true proportion. + +"Yes," said Captain Rexford. He took off his hat and brushed back his +hair nervously. He had many difficulties in his life. "Yes, and then +there is Winifred." + +"Girls here are not kept always under the eye of older people, as is +usually considered necessary in England; but then they learn from their +infancy to be more self-reliant. We have taken the safeguards of +governess and schoolroom suddenly from children almost grown-up, and set +them where no one has had time to look after them. They would need to +have been miraculously wise if, with time on their hands, they had not +spent some of it absurdly." + +"Yes," he said again unhappily, "what must we do about it, my dear? Your +hands are already full." He always leaned on Sophia. + +"I fear there is only one thing to do. We cannot give them society; we +cannot give them further education; they must have the poor woman's +protection--work--to take up their time and thoughts. We have saved them +from hard work until now, and it has not been true kindness." + +He did not answer. He believed what she said, but the truth was very +disagreeable to him. When he spoke again he had left that subject. + +"I am sorry for this affair about the Trenholmes. I like Trenholme, and, +of course, he has shown himself able to rise. The younger fellow is +plain and bluff, like enough to what he is." + +"His manners are perfectly simple, but I--I certainly never imagined--" + +"Oh, certainly not; otherwise, you would hardly have received him as you +did. For us men, of course, in this country--" He gave a dignified wave +of his hand. + +"Are you sure of that, papa,--that I would not have received him?" It +was exactly what she had been saying to herself for days; but, now that +another said it, the sentiment involved seemed weak. + +"I am aware"--his tone was resigned--"that your opinions are always more +radical than I can approve. The extreme always seems to have, shall I +say, some attraction for you; but still, my daughter, I believe you are +not lacking in proper pride." + +"I am too proud to think that for a good many days I have liked a man +who was not fit for my liking. I prefer to believe that he is fit until +I can have more conclusive proof to the contrary." + +Captain Rexford walked some minutes in sterner silence. He had long +ceased to regard Sophia as under his authority. + +"Still I hope, my dear, the next time you see this young man--rudeness, +of course, being impossible to you, and unnecessary--still I hope you +will allow your manner to indicate that a certain distance must be +preserved." + +Her own sense of expediency had been urging this course upon her, but +she had not been able to bring her mind to it. + +"I should show myself his inferior if I could deliberately hurt him," +she cried, with feeling. The trouble of a long debate she had been +having with herself, her uncertainty what to feel or think, gave more +emotion to her voice than she supposed. + +"My dear daughter!" cried the father, with evident agitation. + +Sophia instantly knew on what suspicion this sudden sympathy was +bestowed. She was too indignant to deny the charge. + +"Well, papa?" + +"He is, no doubt, a worthy man; but"--he got no help from his daughter; +she was walking beside him with imperious mien--"in short, my dear, I +hope--indeed, if I could think that, under false pretences, he could +have won--" + +"He is the last man to seek to win anything under a false pretence." The +coldness of her manner but thinly veiled her vehemence; but even in that +vehemence she perceived that what proofs of her assertion she could +bring would savour of too particular a recollection. She let it stand +unproved. + +"My dear child!" he cried, in affectionate distress, "I know that you +will not forget that rank, birth--" He looked at her, and, seeing that +she appeared intractable, exclaimed further, "It's no new thing that +ladies should, in a fit of madness, demean themselves--young ladies +frequently marry grooms; but, believe me, my dear Sophia"--earnestly--"no +happiness ever came of such a thing--only misery, and vice, and squalor." + +But here she laughed with irresistible mirth. "Young women who elope +with grooms are not likely to have much basis of happiness in +themselves. And you think me capable of fancying love for a man without +education or refinement, a man with whom I could have nothing in common +that would last beyond a day! What have I ever done, papa, that you +should bring such, an accusation?" + +"I certainly beg your pardon, my daughter, if I have maligned you." + +"You _have_ maligned me; there is no 'if' about it." + +"My dear, I certainly apologise. I thought, from the way in which you +spoke--" + +"You thought I was expressing too warm a regard for Mr. Alec Trenholme; +but that has nothing whatever to do with what you have just been talking +about; for, if he were a groom, if he chose to sweep the streets, he +would be as far removed from the kind of man you have just had in your +mind as you and I are; and, if he were not I could take no interest in +him." + +The gloom on Captain Rexford's brow, which had been dispelled by her +laughter, gathered again. + +"Separate the character of the man from his occupation," she cried. +"Grant that he is what we would all like in a friend. Separate him, too, +from any idea that I would marry him, for I was not thinking of such a +thing. Is there not enough left to distress me? Do you think I underrate +the evil of the occupation, even though I believe it has not tainted +him? Having owned him as a friend, isn't it difficult to know what +degree of friendship I can continue to own for him?" + +"My dear, I think you hardly realise how unwise it is to think of +friendship between yourself and any such man; recognition of worth there +may be, but nothing more." + +"Oh, papa!"--impatiently--"think of it as you will, but listen to what I +have to say; for I am in trouble. You were sorry for me just now when +you imagined I was in love; try and understand what I say now, for I am +in distress. I cannot see through this question--what is the right and +what is the wrong." + +"I do not think I understand you my dear," he said. + +She had stopped, and leaned back on the roadside fence. He stood before +her. All around them the yellow golden-rod and mullein were waving in +the wind, and lithe young trees bent with their coloured leaves. Captain +Rexford looked at his daughter, and wondered, in his slow way, that she +was not content to be as fair and stately as the flowers without +perplexing herself thus. + +"Papa, pray listen. You know that night when I went to seek +Winifred--you do not know, because I have not told you--but just before +the old man died. When he stood there, looking up and praying that our +Saviour would come again, there was not one of us who was not carried +away with the thought of that coming--the thought that when it comes all +time will be _present,_ not _past;_ and, papa, the clouds parted just a +little, and we saw through, beyond all the damp, dark gloom of the place +we were in, into a place of such perfect clearness and beauty beyond--I +can't explain it, but it seemed like an emblem of the difference that +would be between our muddy ways of thinking of things and the way that +we should think if we lived always for the sake of the time when He will +come--and it is very easy to talk of that difference in a large general +way, and it does no good--but to bring each particular thing to that +test is practical. Here, for instance, you and I ought to reconsider our +beliefs and prejudices as they regard this man we are talking about, and +find out what part of them, in God's sight, is pure and strong and to be +maintained, and what part is unworthy and to be cast away. Is it easy, +even in such a small matter as this?" + +Captain Rexford took off his hat in tribute to his theme, and stood +bareheaded. He looked what he was--a military man of the past and more +formal generation, who with difficulty had adapted himself to the dress +and habits of a farmer. He was now honestly doing his utmost to bring +himself to something still more foreign to his former experience. + +"To put it in a practical way, papa: if our Lord were coming to-morrow, +how would you advise me to meet Alec Trenholme to-day?" + +"Of course," began Captain Rexford, "in sight of the Almighty all men +are equal." + +"No, no," she pleaded, "by all that is true, men are not equal nor are +occupations equal. Everything has its advantages and disadvantages. It +is not as well to be stupid as to be wise, to be untaught as to be +taught, to be ugly as to be beautiful; it is not as good to kill cattle +as to till the soil, and it is not as good to be a farmer as to be a +poet. It is just because moralists go too far, and say what is not true, +that they fail. External things are of more importance to their Creator +than they are even to us." + +Captain Rexford brushed his hat with his sleeve. The thing that he was +most anxious to do at that moment was to pacify his daughter. + +"But if you feel this difference so keenly, Sophia, what then perplexes +you?" + +"I want to know how to deal with these differences, for the way we have +been accustomed to deal with them is false. This case, where one brother +is at the top of our little society and the other at the bottom, shows +it. Not all false--there comes the difficulty" (her face was full of +distress), "but largely false. If we have any spiritual life in us it is +because we have heard the call that Lazarus heard in the tomb, but the +opinions we will not let God transform are the graveclothes that are +binding us hand and foot." + +"My dear, I certainly think it right that we should live as much as +possible as we should wish to have lived when we come to die, but I do +not know that for that it is necessary to make a radical change in our +views." + +"Look you, dear father, if we were willing to step out of our own +thoughts about everything as out of a hindering garment, and go forth in +the thoughts in which God is willing to clothe us, we should see a new +heaven and a new earth; but--but--" she sought her word. + +"There may be truth in what you say" (his words showed how far he had +been able to follow her), "but your views would lead to very +revolutionary practices." + +"Revolution! Ah, that takes place when men take some new idea of their +own, like the bit, between their teeth, and run. But I said to live in +His ideas--His, without Whom nothing was made that was made; Who caused +creation to revolve slowly out of chaos" (she looked around at the +manifold life of tree and flower and bird as she spoke); "Who will not +break the reed of our customs as long as there is any true substance +left in it to make music with." + +"It sounds very beautiful, my dear, but is it practicable?" + +"As practicable as is any holy life!" she cried. "We believe; if we do +not live by a miracle we have no sort or manner of right to preach to +those who do not believe." + +Captain Rexford would have died for his belief in miracles, but he only +believed in them at the distance of some eighteen hundred years or more. + +"How would you apply this?" he asked, mildly indulgent. + +"To the question of each hour as it comes. What, for instance, is the +right way to act to Alec Trenholme?" + +When she came to his name for some reason she left her standing-place, +and they were now walking on side by side. + +"Well, Sophia, you bring an instance, and you say, 'put it practically.' +I will do so. This village is badly in need of such a tradesman. Even +the hotel, and other houses that can afford it, grumble at having to +obtain their supplies by rail, and we are badly enough served, as you +know. I have no idea that this young man has any notion of settling +here, but, _suppose he did_" (Captain Rexford said his last words as if +they capped a climax), "you will see at a glance that in that case any +recognition of equality such as you seem to be proposing, would be +impossible. It would be mere confusion." + +"And why should he not settle here? Are we, a Christian community, +unable to devise a way of treating him and his brother that would +neither hurt their feelings nor our welfare, that would be equally +consonant with our duty to God and our own dignity? Or must he go, +because our dignity is such a fragile thing that it would need to be +supported by actions that we could not offer to God?" + +"You know, my dear, if you will excuse my saying so, I think you are +pushing this point a little too far. If it were possible to live up to +such a high ideal--" + +"I would rather die to-night than think that it was _impossible_." + +"My dear" (he was manifestly annoyed now), "you really express yourself +too strongly." + +"But what use would it be to live?" She was going on but she stopped. +What use was it to talk? None. + +She let the subject pass and they conversed on other things. + +She felt strange loneliness. "Am I, in truth, fantastical?" she sighed, +"or, if Heaven is witness to the sober truth of that which I conceive, +am I so weak as to need other sympathy?" This was the tenor, not the +words, of her thought. Yet all the way home, as they talked and walked +through the glowing autumn land, her heart was aching. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +The day came on which Bates was to go home. He had had a week's petulant +struggle with his malady since he last passed through the door of +Trenholme's house, but now he had conquered it for the hour, and even +his host perceived that it was necessary for him to make his journey +before the weather grew colder. + +His small belongings packed, his morose good-byes said, Alec Trenholme +drove him to the railway station. + +Both the brothers knew why it was that, in taking leave of them, Bates +hardly seemed to notice that he did so; they knew that, in leaving the +place, he was all-engrossed in the thought that he was leaving the girl, +Eliza Cameron, for ever; but he seemed to have no thought of saying to +her a second farewell. + +The stern reserve which Bates had maintained on this subject had so +wrought on Alec's sympathy that he had consulted his brother as to the +advisability of himself making some personal appeal to Eliza, and the +day before Bates started he had actually gone on this mission. If it was +not successful, hardly deserved that it should be; for when he stood in +front of the girl, he could not conceal the great dislike he felt for +her, nor could he bring himself to plead on behalf of a man who he felt +was worth a thousand such as she. He said briefly that Bates was to +start for home the next day, and by such a train, and that he had +thought it might concern her to know it. + +"Did he tell you to tell me?" asked Eliza, without expression. + +"No, he didn't; and what's more, he never told me how you came here. You +think he's been telling tales about you! You can know now that he never +did; he's not that sort. I saw you at Turrifs, and when I saw you again +here I knew you. All I've got to say about _that_ is, that I, for one, +don't like that kind of conduct. You've half killed Bates, and this +winter will finish him off." + +"That's not my fault," said Eliza. + +"Oh? Well, that's for you to settle with yourself. I thought I'd come +and tell you what I thought about it, and that he was going. That's all +I've got to say." + +"But I've something more to say, and you'll stay and hear it." She +folded her arms upon her breast, and looked at him, a contemptuous, +indignant Amazon. "You think Mr. Bates would thank you if you got me to +go away with him because I was afraid he'd die. You think"--growing +sarcastic--"that Mr. Bates wants me to go with him because _I'm sorry +for him_. I tell you, if I did what you're asking, Mr. Bates would be +the first to tell you to mind your own business and to send me about +mine." + +She relapsed into cold silence for a minute, and then added, "If you +think Mr. Bates can't do his own love-making, you're vastly mistaken." + +It did not help to soothe Alec that, when he went home, his brother +laughed at his recital. + +"She is a coarse-minded person," he said. "I shall never speak to her +again." + +This had happened the day before he drove Bates to the station. + +It was a midday train. The railway platform was comparatively empty, for +the season of summer visitors was past. The sun glared with unsoftened +light on the painted station building, on the bare boards of the +platform, upon the varnished exterior of the passenger cars, and in, +through their windows, upon the long rows of red velvet seats. Alec +disposed Bates and his bundles on a seat near the stove at the end of +one of the almost empty cars. Then he stood, without much idea what to +say in the few minutes before the train started. + +"Well," said he, "you'll be at Quebec before dark." + +As they both knew this, Bates did not consider it worth an answer. His +only desire was that the train should be gone, so that he might be left +alone. He was a good deal oppressed by the idea of his indebtedness to +Alec, but he had already said all on that head that was in him to say; +it had not been much. + +An urchin came by, bawling oranges. They looked small and sour, but, for +sheer lack of anything better to do, Alec went out of the car to buy a +couple. He was just stepping in again to present them when, to his +surprise, he became aware that one of the various people on the platform +was Eliza Cameron. When he caught sight of her she was coming running +from the other end of the train, her face red with exertion and her +dress disordered. She looked in at the windows, saw Bates, and entered +where Alec had intended to enter, he drawing aside, and she not even +seeing him. + +The impetus of his intention carried Alec on to the outer porch of the +car, but his consideration for Bates caused him then to turn his back to +the door, and gaze down the long level track, waiting until Eliza should +come out again. + +The prospect that met his gaze was one in which two parallel straight +lines met visibly in the region of somewhere. He remembered learning +that such two lines do, in truth, always meet in infinity. He wondered +drearily if this were a parable. As he saw his life, all that he desired +and all that was right seemed to lie in two tracks, side by side, but +for ever apart. + +The advent of Eliza had sunk into less significance in his mind by the +time he heard the engine's warning bell. He turned and looked into the +car. There sat the man whom he had left, but not the same man; a new +existence seemed to have started into life in his thin sinewy frame, and +to be looking out through the weather-beaten visage. This man, fond and +happy, was actually addressing a glance of arch amusement at the girl +who, flushed and disconcerted, sought to busy herself by rearranging his +possessions. So quickly did it seem that Bates had travelled from one +extreme of life to another that Alec felt no doubt as to the kindly +triumph in the eye. Explanation he had none. He stepped off the jolting +car. + +"Is she coming out?" he asked the conductor. + +"No, she ain't," said a Chellaston man who stood near at hand. "She's +got her trunk in the baggage car, and she's got her ticket for Quebec, +she has. She's left the hotel, and left old Hutchins in the +lurch--that's what she's done." + +The train was moving quicker. The conductor had jumped aboard. Alec was +just aware that all who were left on the platform were gossiping about +Eliza's departure when he was suddenly spurred into violent movement by +the recollection that he had absently retained in his possession Bates's +ticket and the change of the note given him to buy it with. To run and +swing himself on to the last car was a piece of vigorous action, but +once again upon the small rear porch and bound perforce for the next +station, he gave only one uncomfortable glance through the glass door +and turned once more to the prospect of the long level track. Who could +mention a railway ticket and small change to a man so recently +beatified? + +The awkwardness of his position, a shyness that came over him at the +thought that they must soon see him and wonder why he was there, +suggested the wonder why he had desired that Bates should be happy; now +that he saw him opulent in happiness, as it appeared, above all other +men, he felt only irritation--first, at the sort of happiness that could +be derived from such a woman, and secondly, at the contrast between this +man's fulness and his own lack. What had Bates done that he was to have +all that he wanted? + +It is an easier and less angelic thing to feel sympathy with sorrow than +with joy. + +In a minute or two it was evident they had seen him, for he heard the +door slide and Bates came out on the little platform. He had gone into +the car feebly; he came out with so easy a step and holding himself so +erect, with even a consequential pose, that a gleam of derision shot +through the younger man's mind, even though he knew with the quick +knowledge of envy that it was for the sake of the woman behind the door +that the other was now making the most of himself. + +Alec gave what he had to give; it was not his place to make comment. + +Bates counted the change with a care that perhaps was feigned. If he +stood very straight, his hard hand trembled. + +"I'm sorry ye were forced to come on with the cars; it's another added +to all the good deeds you've done by me." He had found a tongue now in +which he could be gracious. + +"Oh, I shall soon get back," said Alec. + +"I suppose ye've seen"--with attempted coolness--"that my young friend +here, Eliza Cameron, is going back with me." + +"So I see." If his life had depended upon it, Alec could not have +refrained from a smile which he felt might be offensive, but it passed +unseen. + +"When she saw ye out here, she asked me just to step out, for perhaps +ye'd be so kind as to take a message to a young lady she has a great +caring for--a Miss Rexford, as I understand." + +"All right." Alec looked at the rails flying behind them, and stroked +his yellow moustache, and sighed in spite of himself. + +"I'd like ye to tell Miss Rexford from me that we intend to be married +to-morrow--in the city of Quebec; but Sissy, she would like ye to say +that she'd have gone to say good-bye if she'd known her own mind sooner, +and that she prefairred to come" (he rolled the r in this "preferred" +with emphasis not too obvious) "--ye understand?"--this last a little +sharply, as if afraid that the word might be challenged. + +Still looking upon the flying track, Alec nodded to show that he +challenged nothing. + +"And she wishes it to be said," continued the stiff, formal Scot (there +was a consequential air about him now that was almost insufferable), +"that for all I've the intention in my mind to spend my life in the old +place, she thinks she'll very likely break me of it, and bring me to +live in more frequented parts in a year or two, when she'll hope to come +and see her friends again. 'Tis what she says, Mr. Trenholme" (and Alec +knew, from his tone, that Bates, even in speaking to him, had smiled +again that gloriously happy smile), "and of course I humour her by +giving her words. As to how that will be, I can't say, but"--with +condescension--"ye'd be surprised, Mr. Trenholme, at the hold a woman +can get on a man." + +"Really--yes, I suppose so," Alec muttered inanely; but within he laid +control on himself, lest he should kick this man. Surely it would only +make the scales of fortune balance if Bates should have a few of his +limbs broken to pay for his luxury! + +Alec turned, throwing a trifle of patronage into his farewell. Nature +had turned him out such a good-looking fellow that he might have spared +the other, but he was not conscious of his good looks just then. + +"Well, Bates, upon my word I wish you joy. It's certainly a relief to +_me_ to think you will have someone to look after that cough of +yours, and see after you a bit when you have the asthma. I didn't think +you'd get through this winter alone, 'pon my word, I didn't; but I hope +that--Mrs. Bates will take good care of you." + +It was only less brutal to hurl the man's weakness at him than it would +have been to hurl him off the train. Yet Alec did it, then jumped from +the car when the speed lessened. + +He found himself left at a junction which had no interest for him, and +as there was a goods train going further on to that village where he had +stopped with Bates on their first arrival in these parts, he followed a +whim and went thither, in order to walk home by the road on which he had +first heard Sophia's voice in the darkness. + +Ah, that voice--how clear and sweet and ringing it was! It was not +words, but tones, of which he was now cherishing remembrance. And he +thought of the face he now knew so well, hugged the thought of her to +his heart, and knew that he ought not to think of her. + +Everywhere the trees hung out red and yellow, as flags upon a gala day. +He saw the maples on the mountain rise tier above tier, in feathery +scarlet and gold. About his feet the flowering weeds were blowing in one +last desperate effort of riotous bloom. The indigo birds, like flakes +from the sky above, were flitting, calling, everywhere, as they tarried +on their southward journey. Alec walked by the rushing river, almost +dazzled by its glitter, and felt himself to be, not only an unhappy, but +an ill-disposed man. + +"And yet--and yet--" thought he, "if Heaven might grant her to me--": +and the heaven above him seemed like brass, and the wish like a prayer +gone mad. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Sophia had lived on through a few more quiet days; and now she knew that +the problem to which she had set herself was not that one pleasantly +remote from her inmost self, as to where her duty lay in helping on an +ideal social state, but another question, that beside the first seemed +wholly common and vulgar, one that tore from her all glamours of +romantic conception, so that she sat, as it were, in a chamber denuded +of all softness and beauty, face to face with her own pride. And so +lusty was this pride she had deemed half-dead that beside it all her +former enthusiasms seemed to fade into ghostly nothings. + +At first she only determined, by all the chivalrous blood that ran in +her veins, to continue her kindness to the Trenholmes. She foresaw a +gust of unpopularity against them, and she saw herself defending their +interests and defying criticism. In this bright prospect the brothers +were humbly grateful and she herself not a little picturesque in +generous patronage. It was a delightful vision--for an hour; but because +she was nearer thirty than twenty it passed quickly. She touched it with +her knowledge of the world and it vanished. No; social life could not be +changed in a day; it would not be well that it should be. Much of the +criticism that would come in this case would be just; and the harsher +blows that would be dealt could not be stayed nor the unkindness defied; +even in the smaller affairs of life, he who would stand by the wronged +must be willing to suffer wrong. Was she ready for that? The longer she +meditated, the more surely she knew that Alec Trenholme loved her. And +when she had meditated a little longer--in spite of the indignation she +had felt at the bare suggestion--she knew that she loved him. + +The fine theories of universal conduct in which she had been indulging +narrowed themselves down to her own life and to sternest, commonest +reality. Christianity is never a quality that can be abstracted from the +individual and looked upon as having duties of its own. + +She fought against the knowledge that she liked him so well; the thought +of being his wife was the thought of a sacrifice that appalled her. A +convent cell would not have appeared to her half so far removed from all +that belongs to the pride of life; and lives there anyone who has so +wholly turned from that hydra-headed delight as not to shrink, as from +some touch of death, from fresh relinquishment? Her pulses stirred to +those strains of life's music that call to emulation and the manifold +pomps of honour; and, whatever might be the reality, in her judgment the +wife of Alec Trenholme must renounce all that element of interest in the +world for ever. Our sense of distinction poises its wings on the opinion +of men; and, as far as she had learnt this opinion, a saint or a nun +(she knew it now, although before she had not thought it) had honourable +part in life's pageantry, but not the wife of such as he. The prospect +in her eyes was barren of the hope that she might ever again have the +power to say to anyone, "I am better than thou." + +It did not help her that at her initiation into the Christian life she +had formally made just this renunciation, or that she had thought that +before now she had ratified the vow. The meaninglessness of such +formulas when spoken is only revealed when deepening life reveals their +depths of meaning. She asked, in dismay, if duty was calling her to this +sacrifice by the voice of love in her heart. For that Love who carries +the crown of earthly happiness in his hand was standing on the threshold +of her heart like a beggar, and so terrible did his demand seem to her +that she felt it would be easy to turn him away. + +"I," she said to herself, "I, who have preached to others, who have +discoursed on the vanity of ambition--this has come to teach me what +stuff my glib enthusiasm is made of. I would rather perjure myself, +rather die, rather choose any life of penance and labour, than yield to +my own happiness and his, and give up my pride." + +She arrayed before her all possible arguments for maintaining the +existing social order; but conscience answered, "You are not asked to +disturb it very much." Conscience used an uncomfortable phrase--"You are +only asked to make yourself of no reputation." She cowered before +Conscience. "You are not even asked to make yourself unhappy," continued +Conscience; and so the inward monitor talked, on till, all wearied, her +will held out a flag of truce. + +Most women would have thought of a compromise, would have, said, "Yes, I +will stoop to the man, but I will raise him to some more desirable +estate"; but such a woman was not Sophia Rexford. She scorned love that +would make conditions as much as she scorned a religion that could set +its own limits to service. For her there was but one question--Did +Heaven demand that she should acknowledge this love? If so, then the +all-ruling Will of Heaven must be the only will that should set bounds +to its demand. + +In the distress of her mind, however, she did catch at one idea that +was, in kind, a compromise. She thought with relief that she could take +no initiative. If Alec Trenholme asked her to be his wife--then she +knew, at last she knew, that she would not dare to deny the voice at her +heart--in the light of righteousness and judgment to come, she would not +dare to deny it. But--ah, surely he would not ask! She caught at this +belief as an exhausted swimmer might catch at a floating spar, and +rested herself upon it. She would deal honourably with her conscience; +she would not abate her kindliness; she would give him all fair +opportunity; and if he asked, she would give up all--but she clung to +her spar of hope. + +She did not realise the extent of her weakness, nor even suspect the +greatness of her strength. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +Robert Trenholme had not told his brother that he had made his +confession when he took tea with all the women. He knew that in such +cases difference and separation are often first fancied and then +created, by the self-conscious pride of the person who expects to be +slighted. He refrained from making this possible on Alec's part, and set +himself to watch the difference that would be made; and the interest of +all side-issues was summed up for him in solicitude to know what Miss +Rexford would do, for on that he felt his own hopes of her pardon to +depend. + +When he found, the day after Bates's departure, that Alec must seek Miss +Rexford to give Eliza's message, he put aside work to go with him to +call upon her. He would hold to his brother; it remained to be seen how +she would receive them together. + +That same afternoon Sophia went forth with Winifred and the little boys +to gather autumn leaves. When the two brothers came out of the college +gate they saw her, not twenty yards away, at the head of her little +troop. Down the broad road the cool wind was rushing, and they saw her +walking against it, outwardly sedate, with roses on her cheeks, her eyes +lit with the sunshine. The three stopped, and greeted each other after +the manner of civilised people. + +Trenholme knew that the change that any member of the Rexford family +would put into their demeanour could not be rudely perceptible. He set +no store by her greeting, but he put his hand upon his brother's +shoulder and he said: + +"This fellow has news that will surprise you, and a message to give. +Perhaps, if it is not asking too much, we may walk as far as may be +necessary to tell it, or," and he looked at her questioningly, "would +you like him to go and help you to bring down the high boughs?--they +have the brightest leaves." + +"Will you come and help us gather red leaves?" said Sophia to Alec. + +She did not see the gratitude in the elder brother's eyes, because it +did not interest her to look for it. + +"And you?" she said to him. + +"Ah, I" (he held up the cane with which he still eased the weight on one +foot), "I cannot walk so far, but perhaps I will come and meet you on +your return," and he pleased himself with the idea that she cared that +he should come. + +He went into his house again. His heart, which had lately been learning +the habit of peace, just now learned a new lesson of what joy might be. +His future before him looked troublous, but the worst of his fears was +allayed. He had loved Sophia long; to-day his love seemed multiplied a +thousandfold. Hope crept to his heart like a darling child that had been +in disgrace and now was forgiven. + +The others went on down the road. + +Alec told his news about Eliza as drily as facts could be told. If he +touched his story at all with feeling, it was something akin to a sneer. + +"She'll get him on to the track of prosperity now she's taken hold, Miss +Rexford," said he. "Mr. and Mrs. Bates will be having a piano before +long, and they will drive in a 'buggy.' That's the romance of a +settler's life in Canada." + +When they had left that subject Sophia said, "Now he is gone, are you +going away?" + +"Yes; in a day or two. I've fixed nothing yet, because Robert seems to +have some unaccountable objection to getting rid of me just at present; +but I shall go." + +"It is very fine weather," she said. + +"There is too much glare," said he. + +"You are surely hard to please." + +"What I call fine weather is something a man has something in common +with. If one were a little chap again, just leaving school for a +holiday, this would be a glorious day, but--what _man_ has spirits equal +to" (he looked above) "this sort of thing." + +His words came home to Sophia with overwhelming force, for, as they went +on, touching many subjects one after another, she knew with absolute +certainty that her companion had not the slightest intention of being +her suitor. If the sunny land through which she was walking had been a +waste place, in which storm winds sighed, over which storm clouds +muttered, it would have been a fitter home for her heart just then. She +saw that she was to be called to no sacrifice, but she experienced no +buoyant relief. He was going away; and she was to be left. She had not +known herself when she thought she wanted him to go--she was miserable. +Well, she deserved her misery, for would she not be more miserable if +she married him? Had she not cried and complained? And now the door of +this renunciation was not opened to her--he was going away, and she was +to be left. + +Very dull and prosaic was the talk of these two as they walked up the +road to that pine grove where the river curved in, and they turned back +through that strip of wilderness between road and river where it was +easy to be seen that the brightest leaf posies were to be had. + +Nearest the pines was a group of young, stalwart maple trees, each of a +different dye--gold, bronze, or red. It was here that they lingered, and +Alec gathered boughs for the children till their hands were full. The +noise of the golden-winged woodpecker was in the air, and the call of +the indigo bird. + +Sophia wandered under the branches; her mind was moving always. She was +unhappy. Yes, she deserved that; but he--he was unhappy too; did he +deserve it? Then she asked herself suddenly if she had no further duty +toward him than to come or go at his call. Did she dare, by all that +was true, to wreck his life and her own because she would not stoop to +compel the call that she had feared? + +Humility does not demand that we should think ill of ourselves, but that +we should not think of ourselves at all. When Sophia lost sight of +herself she saw the gate of Paradise. After that she was at one again +with the sunshine and the breeze and the birds, with the rapture of the +day and the land, and she ceased to think why she acted, or whether it +was right or wrong. The best and worst hours of life are in themselves +irresponsible, the will hurled headlong forward by an impulse that has +gathered force before. + +And what did she do? The first thing that entered her mind--it mattered +not what to her. The man was in her power, and she knew it. + +When the children's arms were full and they had gone on homeward down a +pathway among lower sumac thickets, Alec turned and saw Sophia, just as +stately, just as quiet, as he had ever seen her. So they two began to +follow. + +Her hand had been cut the day before, and the handkerchief that bound it +had come off. Demurely she gave it to him to be fastened. Now the hand +had been badly cut, and when he saw that he could not repress the +tenderness of his sympathy. + +"How could you have done it?" he asked, filled with pain, awed, +wondering. + +She laughed, though she did not mean to; she was so light-hearted, and +it was very funny to see how quickly he softened at her will. + +"Do not ask me to tell you how low we Rexfords have descended!" she +cried, "and yet I will confess I did it with the meat axe. I ought not +to touch such a thing, you think! Nay, what can I do when the loin is +not jointed and the servant has not so steady a hand as I? Would you +have me let papa grumble all dinner-time--the way that you men do, you +know?" + +The little horror that she had painted for him so vividly did its work. +With almost a groan he touched the hand with kisses, not knowing what he +did; and looking up, frightened of her as far as he could be conscious +of fear, he saw, not anger, but a face that fain would hide itself, and +he hid it in his embrace. + +"Oh," cried he, "what have I done?" + +Stepping backward, he stood a few paces from her, his arms crossed, the +glow on his face suddenly transcended by the look with which a man might +regard a crime he had committed. + +"What is it?" she cried, wickedly curious. The maple tree over her was a +golden flame and her feet were on a carpet of gold. All around them the +earth was heaped with palm-like sumac shrubs, scarlet, crimson, +purple--dyed as it were, with blood. + +"What have I done?" He held out his hands as if they had been stained. +"I have loved you, I have dared, without a thought, _without a thought +for you_, to walk straight into all the--the--heaven of it." + +Then he told her, in a word, that about himself which he thought she +would despise; and she saw that he thought she heard it for the first +time. + +Lifting her eyebrows in pretty incredulity. "Not really?" she said. + +"It is true," he cried with fierce emphasis. + +At that she looked grave. + +He had been trying to make her serious; but no sooner did he see her +look of light and joy pass into a look of thought than he was filled +with that sort of acute misery which differs from other sorrows as acute +pain differs from duller aches. + +"My darling," he said, his heart was wrung with the words--"my darling, +if I have hurt you, I have almost killed myself." (Man that he was, he +believed that his life must ebb in this pain.) + +"Why?" she asked. "How?" + +He went a step nearer her, but as it came to him every moment more +clearly that he had deceived her, as he realised what he had gained and +what he now thought to forego, his voice forsook him in his effort to +speak. Words that he tried to say died on his lips. + +But she saw that he had tried to say that because of it she should not +marry him. + +He tried again to speak and made better work of it. "This that has come +to us--this love that has taken us both--you will say it is not enough +to--to--" + +She lifted up her face to him. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes were +full of light. "This that has come to us, Alec--" (At his name he came +nearer yet) "this that has taken us both" (she faltered) "is enough." + +He came near to her again; he took her hands into his; and all that he +felt and all that she felt, passed from his eyes to hers, from hers to +his. + +He said, "It seems like talking in church, but common things must be +said and answered, and--Sophie--what will your father say?" + +"I don't know," she said; but happiness made her playful; she stroked +the sleeve of his coat, as if to touch it were of more interest to her. +"I will give him my fortune to make up, and come to you penniless." + +"He won't consent," he urged. + +There was still a honeyed carelessness in her voice and look. "At the +great age to which I have attained," said she, "fathers don't +interfere." + +"What can I do or say," he said, "to make you consider?" for it seemed +to him that her thoughts and voice came from her spellbound in some +strange delight, as the murmur comes from a running stream, without +meaning, except the meaning of all beautiful and happy things in God's +world. + +"What must I consider?" + +"The shop--the trade." + +"When you were a very young butcher, and first took to it, did you like +it?" + +"I wasn't squeamish," he said; and then he told her about his father. +After that he philosophised a little, telling something of the best that +he conceived might be if men sought the highest ideal in lowly walks of +life, instead of seeking to perform imperfectly some nobler business. It +was wonderful how much better he could speak to her than to his brother, +but Sophia listened with such perfect assent that his sense of honour +again smote him. + +"Art thinking of it all, love?" he said. + +"I was wondering what colour of aprons you wore, and if I must make +them." + +They began to walk home, passing now under the sumac's palm-like canopy, +and they saw the blue gleam of the singing river through red thickets. +Soon they came to a bit of open ground, all overgrown with bronzed +bracken, and maidenhair sere and pink, and blue-eyed asters and +golden-rod. So high and thick were the breeze-blown weeds that the only +place to set the feet was a very narrow path. Here Sophia walked first, +for they could not walk abreast, and as Alec watched her threading her +way with light elastic step, he became afraid once more, and tried to +break through her happy tranquillity. + +"Dear love," he said, "I hope--" + +"What now?" said she, for his tone was unrestful. + +He trampled down flowers and ferns as he awkwardly tried to gain her +side. + +"You know, dear, I have a sort of feeling that I've perhaps just +fascinated and entranced you--so that you are under a spell and don't +consider, you know." + +It was exactly what he meant, and he said it; but how merrily she +laughed! Her happy laughter rang; the river laughed in answer, and the +woodpecker clapped applause. + +But Alec blushed very much and stumbled upon the tangled weeds. + +"I only meant--I--I didn't mean--That is the way I feel fascinated by +you, you know; and I suppose it might be the same--" + +They walked on, she still advancing a few paces because she had the +path, he retarded because, in his attempt to come up with her, he was +knee-deep in flowers. But after a minute, observing that he was hurt in +his mind because of her laughter, she mocked him, laughing again, but +turned the sunshine of her loving face full upon him as she did so. + +"Most fascinating and entrancing of butchers!" quoth she. + +With that as she entered another thicket of sumac trees, he caught and +kissed her in its shade. + + * * * * * + +And there was one man who heard her words and saw his act, one who took +in the full meaning of it even more clearly than they could, because +they in their transport had not his clearness of vision. Robert +Trenholme, coming to seek them, chanced in crossing this place, thick +set with shrubs, to come near them unawares, and seeing them, and having +at the sight no power in him to advance another step or speak a word, he +let them pass joyously on their way towards home. It was not many +moments before they had passed off the scene, and he was left the only +human actor in that happy wilderness where flower and leaf and bird, the +blue firmament on high and the sparkling river, rejoiced together in the +glory of light and colour. + +Trenholme crossed the path and strode through flowery tangle and woody +thicket like a giant in sudden strength, snapping all that offered to +detain his feet. He sought, he knew not why, the murmur and the motion +of the river; and where young trees stood thickest, as spearsmen to +guard the loneliness of its bank, he sat down upon a rock and covered +his face, as if even from the spirits of solitude and from his own +consciousness he must hide. He thought of nothing: his soul within him +was mad. + +He had come out of his school not half an hour before, rejoicing more +than any schoolboy going to play in the glorious weather. For him there +was not too much light on the lovely autumn landscape; it was all a part +of the peace that was within him and without, of the God he knew to be +within him and without--for, out of his struggle for righteousness in +small things, he had come back into that light which most men cannot see +or believe. Just in so far as a man comes into that light he ceases to +know himself as separate, but knows that he is a part of all men and all +things, that his joy is the joy of all men, that their pain is his; +therefore, as Trenholme desired the fulfilment of his own hopes, he +desired that all hope in the world might find fruition. And because this +day he saw--what is always true if we could but see it--that joy is a +thousandfold greater than pain, the glory of the autumn seemed to him +like a psalm of praise, and he gave thanks for all men. + +Thus Trenholme had walked across the fields, into these groves--but now, +as he sat by the river, all that, for the time, had passed away, except +as some indistinct memory of it maddened him. His heart was full of rage +against his brother, rage too against the woman he loved; and with this +rage warred most bitterly a self-loathing because he knew that his anger +against them was unjust. She did not know, she had no cause to know, +that she had darkened his whole life; but--what a _fool_ she was! What +companionship could that thoughtless fellow give her? How he would drag +her down! And _he_, too, could not know that he had better have killed +his brother than done this thing. But any woman would have done for +Alec; for himself there was only this one--only this one in the whole +world. He judged his brother; any girl with a pretty face and a good +heart would have done for that boisterous fellow--while for himself--"Oh +God," he said, "it is hard." + +Thus accusing and excusing these lovers, excusing and again accusing +himself for his rage against them, he descended slowly into the depth of +his trouble--for man, in his weakness, is so made that he can come at +his worst suffering only by degrees. Yet when he had made this descent, +the hope he had cherished for months and years lay utterly overthrown; +it could not have been more dead had it been a hundred years in dying. +He had not known before how dear it was, yet he had known that it was +dearer than all else, except that other hope with which we do not +compare our desires for earthly good because we think it may exist +beside them and grow thereby. + +There are times when, to a man, time is not, when the life of years is +gathered into indefinite moments; and after, when outward things claim +again the exhausted mind, he wonders that the day is not further spent. +And Trenholme wondered at the length of that afternoon, when he observed +it again and saw that the sun had not yet sunk low, and as he measured +the shadows that the bright trees cast athwart the moving water, he was +led away to think the thoughts that had been his when he had so lightly +come into those gay autumn bowers. A swallow skimmed the wave with +burnished wing; again he heard the breeze and the rapid current. They +were the same; the movement and music were the same; God was still with +him; was he so base as to withhold the thanksgiving that had been +checked half uttered in his heart by the spring of that couchant sorrow? +_Then_ in the sum of life's blessings he had numbered that hope of his, +and _now_ he had seen the perfect fruition of that hope in joy. It was +not his own,--but was it not much to know that God had made such joy, +had given it to man? Had he in love of God no honest praise to give for +other men's mercies? none for the joy of this man who was his brother? +Across the murmur of the river he spoke words so familiar that they came +to clothe the thought-- + +"We do give Thee most humble and hearty thanks for all Thy goodness +and--loving kindness--to us--and to _all men_." + +And although, as he said them, his hand was clenched so that his fingers +cut the palm, yet, because he gave thanks, Robert Trenholme was nearer +than he knew to being a holy man. + + +THE END. + + + + +THE ONE GOOD GUEST. + +A NOVEL. By L.B. Walford + +Author of "Mr. Smith," "The Baby's Grandmother," ETC., ETC. 12mo, Cloth, +Ornamental, $1.00. + + +"It is a delightful picture of life at an English estate, which is +presided over by a young 'Squire' and his young sister. Their +experiences are cleverly told, and the complications which arise are +amusing and interesting. There are many humorous touches, too, which add +no slight strength to the story."--BOSTON TIMES. + +"A charming little social comedy, permeated with a refinement of +spontaneous humor and brilliant with touches of shrewd and searching +satire."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"The story is bright, amusing, full of interest and incident, and the +characters are admirably drawn. Every reader will recognize a friend or +acquaintance in some of the people here portrayed. Every one will wish +he could have been a guest at Duckhill Manor, and will hope that the +author has more stories to tell."--PUBLIC OPINION. + +"A natural, amusing, kindly tale, told with great skill. The characters +are delightfully human, the individuality well caught and preserved, the +quaint humor lightens every page, and a simple delicacy and tenderness +complete an excellent specimen of story telling."--PROVIDENCE JOURNAL. + +"For neat little excursions into English social life, and that of the +best, commend us to the writer of 'The One Good Guest,'"--N.Y. TIMES. + +"The story is bright, amusing, full of interest and incident, and the +characters are admirably drawn. Every reader will recognize a friend or +acquaintance in some of the people here portrayed. Every one will wish +he could have been a guest at Duckhill Manor, and will hope that the +author has more stories to tell."--PORTLAND OREGONIAN. + + + + +BEGGARS ALL. + +A NOVEL. By Miss L. Dougall. + +Sixth Edition. 12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00. + + +"This is one of the strongest as well as most original romances of the +year.... The plot is extraordinary.... The close of the story is +powerful and natural.... A masterpiece of restrained and legitimate +dramatic fiction."--LITERARY WORLD. + +"To say that 'Beggars All' is a remarkable novel is to put the case +mildly indeed, for it is one of the most original, discerning, and +thoroughly philosophical presentations of character that has appeared in +English for many a day.... Emphatically a novel that thoughtful people +ought to read ... the perusal of it will by many be reckoned among the +intellectual experiences that are not easily forgotten."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"A story of thrilling interest."--HOME JOURNAL. + +"A very unusual quality of novel. It is written with ability; it tells a +strong story with elaborate analysis of character and motive ... it is +of decided interest and worth reading."--COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER, N.Y. + +"It is more than a story for mere summer reading, but deserves a +permanent place among the best works of modern fiction. The author has +struck a vein of originality purely her own.... It is tragic, pathetic, +humerous by turns.... Miss Dougall has, in fact, scored a great success. +Her book is artistic, realistic, intensely dramatic--in fact, one of the +novels of the year."--BOSTON TRAVELLER. + +"'Beggars-All' is a noble work of art, but is also something more and +something better. It is a book with a soul in it, and in a sense, +therefore, it may be described as an inspired work. The inspiration of +genius may or may not he lacking to it, but the inspiration of a pure +and beautiful spirituality pervades it completely ... the characters are +truthfully and powerfully drawn, the situations finely imagined, and the +story profoundly interesting."--CHICAGO TRIBUNE. + + +LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK. + +KEITH DERAMORE. + +A NOVEL. By the Author of "Miss Molly." + +Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00. + + +"One of the strongest novels for the year.... A book of absorbing and +sustained interest, full of those touches of pathos, gusts of passion, +and quick glimpses into the very hearts of men and women which are a +necessary equipment of any great writer of fiction."--STAR. + +"A story with originality of plot and a number of interesting and +skillfully drawn characters.... Well worthy of a careful +perusal."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"The few important characters introduced are very clearly and well +drawn; one is a quite unusual type and reveals a good deal of power in +the author. It is a live story of more than ordinary interest."--REVIEW +OF REVIEWS. + +"A novel of quiet but distinct force and of marked refinement in manner. +The few characters in 'Keith Deramore' are clearly and delicately drawn, +and the slight plot is well sustained."--CHRISTIAN UNION. + +"The author of 'Miss Molly' shall have her reward in the reception of +'Keith Deramore.' If it is not popular there is no value in +prophecy."--SPRINGFIELD REPUBLICAN. + +"The story is strong and interesting, worthy of a high place in +fiction."--PUBLIC OPINION. + +"Its development can be followed with great interest. It is well written +and entertaining throughout."--THE CRITIC. + +"An exceptionally interesting novel. It is an admirable addition to an +admirable series."-BOSTON TRAVELLER. + +"It contains character-drawing which places it much above the average +love story, and makes the reading of it worth while. It is a fine study +of a normally-selfish man. There is humor in it, and sustained +interest."--BUFFALO EXPRESS. + + + + + +A MORAL DILEMMA. By Annie M. Thompson. + +Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00. + + +"We have in this most delightful volume ... a new novel by a new author. +The title is happily chosen, the plot is thrillingly interesting, its +development is unusually artistic, the style is exceptionally pure, the +descriptions are graphic. In short we have one of the best of recent +novels, and the author gives great promise."--BOSTON TRAVELLER. + +"A novel of rare beauty and absorbing interest. Its plot, which is +constructed with great skill, is decidedly unconventional in its +development, and its denouement, although unanticipated until near its +climax, really comes as an agreeable surprise.... As a literary work, 'A +Moral Dilemma' will take high rank."--BOSTON HOME JOURNAL. + +"The story is well written and gives promise of the development of a +writer who will take place among the ranks of those of her sex who are +supplying what is much needed at this time--entertaining, wholesome +literature."--YALE COURANT. + +"The author writes with vigor and earnestness, and the book is one of +interest and power."--PUBLIC OPINION. + +"The story is strongly told."--INDEPENDENT. + +"A strong story which leaves the reader better for the perusal. A +touchlight as Barrie's carries one through the successive scenes, which +are fraught with deep interest."--PUBLIC LEDGER. + + +LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK. + +SWEETHEART GWEN. + +A WELSH IDYLL. By William Tirebuck, + +Author of "Dorrie," "St. Margaret," ETC. + +Crown 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00. + + +"Very charming in its depiction of a simple country life giving several +piquant studies of quaint and attractive character, and not wanting in +the flavor of that romance which all good novels must possess--the +romance of love.... The book is written with knowledge and power, and +has the idyllic flavor."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"It is an idyll, a lovely one, conceived by some one whose childhood has +been happily impressed on him.... The reader lives amid the pastures and +the orchards of Ty-Cremed, and eats the brown bread and drinks the milk +there, and Auntie Gwen, with her white teeth, cracks filberts for him. +This sweet, impulsive woman, with her blue eyes and her russet hair, +bewitches you, as she does her little nephew, Martin. Mr. Tirebuck's +literary faculties are of an exceptional kind. Those who love to read of +child life will find here a perfect picture. There is, however, much +more than this."--N.Y. TIMES. + +"It is a vigorously told story of rural and child-life in Wales, and +most tenderly, imaginatively, simply, it is done ... has humor, pathos, +fancy, courage, deep human feeling, and admirable descriptive +power."--PROVIDENCE JOURNAL. + +"This is a delightful romance ... a charming description of Welsh +country life, with quaint and picturesque studies."--BOSTON TRAVELLER. + + + + + +DORRIE. By William Tirebuck, + +Author of "St. Margaret," "Sweetheart Gwen," ETC. + +Second Edition. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.50 +O. + + +"A really notable novel. Dramatic and profoundly pathetic. A +psychological study of great value."--GRAPHIC. + +"Mr. Tirebuck is a novelist of undoubted courage and fertility of +imagination. The story is interesting beyond all question. He +unquestionably knows how to draw a picture."--ATHENĆUM. + +"'Dorrie' is an extremely touching and realistic picture of Liverpool +life. Mr. Tirebuck writes vigorously, and his story is certainly one of +profound human interest."--G. BARNETT SMITH, in _The Academy_. + +"Mr. Tirebuck has the root of the matter in him. 'Dorrie' is really a +strong piece of work--a decidedly interesting story."--SPECTATOR. + +"Mr. Tirebuck has a real gift of story-telling to begin with. And he has +other greater qualities than that.... His latest novel possesses a broad +human interest as a really imaginative study of life."--RICHARD LE +GALLIENNE, in _The Star_. + +"This story possesses unusual powers of attraction, and gives +unmistakable evidence of genius."--MANCHESTER EXAMINER. + +"She (Dorrie) seems to myself the most absolutely original, and, in her +way, the most taking figure in recent fiction. She is unique. To one +reader at least she remains among the friends of fiction, the beloved of +dreams."--ANDREW LANG, _At the Sign of the Ship_. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS*** + + +******* This file should be named 16398-8.txt or 16398-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/3/9/16398 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/16398-8.zip b/16398-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..66dd947 --- /dev/null +++ b/16398-8.zip diff --git a/16398.txt b/16398.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..09989f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/16398.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16885 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, What Necessity Knows, by Lily Dougall + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: What Necessity Knows + + +Author: Lily Dougall + + + +Release Date: July 30, 2005 [eBook #16398] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS*** + + +E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Graeme Mackreth, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) from +page images generously made available by Early Canadiana Online +(http://www.canadiana.org/eco/index.html) + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through + Early Canadiana Online. See + http://www.canadiana.org/ECO/ItemRecord/05750?id=1a6d608d0d7d6b5e + + + + + +WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS + +by + +L. DOUGALL + +Author of "Beggars All," etc + +New York +Longmans, Green, and Co. +15 East Sixteenth Street +Typography by J.S. Cushing & Co., Boston. + +1893 + + + + + + + +TO MY BROTHER +JOHN REDPATH DOUGALL +THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED +WITH REVERENCE AND AFFECTION + +PREFACE. + + +One episode of this story may need a word of explanation. It is reported +that while the "Millerite" or Adventist excitement of 1843 was agitating +certain parts of North America, in one place at least a little band of +white-robed people ascended a hill in sure expectation of the Second +Advent, and patiently returned to be the laughing stock of their +neighbours. This tradition, as I heard it in my childhood, was repeated +as if it embodied nothing but eccentricity and absurdity, yet it +naturally struck a child's mind with peculiar feelings of awe and +pathos. Such an event appeared picturesque matter for a story. It was +not easy to deal with; for in setting it, as was necessary, in close +relation to the gain-getting, marrying and giving in marriage, of the +people among whom it might occur, it was difficult to avoid either +giving it a poetic emphasis which it would not appear to have in reality +or degrading it by that superficial truth often called realism, which +belittles men. Any unworthiness in the working out of the incident is +due, not so much to lack of dignity in the subject, or to lack of +material, as to the limitations of the writer's capacity. + +Lest any of my countrymen should feel that this story is wanting in +sympathy with them, I may point out that it does not happen to deal with +Canadians proper, but with immigrants, most of whom are slow to identify +themselves with their adopted Country; hence their point of view is here +necessarily set forth. + +I would take this opportunity to express my obligation to my +fellow-worker, Miss M.S. Earp, for her constant and sympathetic +criticism and help in composition. + +L.D. + +EDINBURGH, June, 1893. + + + + +BOOK I. + +"_Necessity knows no Law._" + + + + +WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS + + + +CHAPTER I. + +INTRODUCTION. + + +"It is not often that what we call the 'great sorrows of life' cause us +the greatest sorrow. Death, acute disease, sudden and great +losses--these are sometimes easily borne compared with those intricate +difficulties which, without name and without appearance, work themselves +into the web of our daily life, and, if not rightly met, corrode and +tarnish all its brightness." + +So spoke Robert Trenholme, Principal of the New College and Rector of +the English church at Chellaston, in the Province of Quebec. He sat in +his comfortable library. The light of a centre lamp glowed with shaded +ray on books in their shelves, but shone strongly on the faces near it. +As Trenholme spoke his words had all the charm lent by modulated voice +and manner, and a face that, though strong, could light itself easily +with a winning smile. He was a tall, rather muscular man; his face had +that look of battle that indicates the nervous temperament. He was +talking to a member of his congregation who had called to ask advice and +sympathy concerning some carking domestic care. The advice had already +been given, and the clergyman proceeded to give the sympathy in the form +above. + +His listener was a sickly-looking man, who held by the hand a little boy +of five or six years. The child, pale and sober, regarded with +incessant interest the prosperous and energetic man who was talking to +its father. + +"Yes, yes," replied the troubled visitor, "yes, there's some help for +the big troubles, but none for the small--you're right there." + +"No," said the other, "I did not say there was no help. It is just those +complex difficulties for which we feel the help of our fellow-men is +inadequate that ought to teach us to find out how adequate is the help +of the Divine Man, our Saviour, to all our needs." + +"Yes, yes," said the poor man again, "yes, I suppose what you say is +true." + +But he evidently did not suppose so. He sidled to the door, cap in hand. +The clergyman said no more. He was one of those sensitive men who often +know instinctively whether or not their words find response in the heart +of the hearer, and to whom it is always a pain to say anything, even the +most trivial, which awakes no feeling common to both. + +Trenholme himself showed the visitors out of his house with a genial, +kindly manner, and when the departing footsteps had ceased to crunch the +garden path he still stood on his verandah, looking after the retreating +figures and feeling somewhat depressed--not as we might suppose St. Paul +would have felt depressed, had he, in like manner, taken the Name for +which he lived upon his lips in vain--and to render that name futile by +reason of our spiritual insignificance is surely the worst form of +profanity--but he felt depressed in the way that a gentleman might who, +having various interests at heart, had failed in a slight attempt to +promote one of them. + +It was the evening of one of the balmy days of a late Indian summer. The +stars of the Canadian sky had faded and become invisible in the light of +a moon that hung low and glorious, giving light to the dry, +sweet-scented haze of autumn air. Trenholme looked out on a neat garden +plot, and beyond, in the same enclosure, upon lawns of ragged, +dry-looking grass, in the centre of which stood an ugly brick house, +built apparently for some public purpose. This was the immediate +outlook. Around, the land was undulating; trees were abundant, and were +more apparent in the moonlight than the flat field spaces between them. +The graceful lines of leafless elms at the side of the main road were +clearly seen. About half a mile away the lights of a large village were +visible, but bits of walls and gable ends of white houses stood out +brighter in the moonlight than, the yellow lights within the windows. +Where the houses stretched themselves up on a low hill, a little white +church showed clear against the broken shadow of low-growing pines. + +As Trenholme was surveying the place dreamily in the wonderful light, +that light fell also, upon him and his habitation. He was apparently +intellectual, and had in him something of the idealist. For the rest, he +was a good-sized, good-looking man, between thirty and forty years of +age, and even by the moonlight one might see, from the form of his +clothes, that he was dressed with fastidious care. The walls and +verandah, of his house, which were of wood, glistened almost as brightly +with white paint as the knocker and doorplate did with brass lacquer. + +After a few minutes Trenholme's housekeeper, a wiry, sad-eyed woman, +came to see why the door was left open. When she saw the master of the +house she retired in abrupt, angular fashion, but the suggestion of her +errand recalled him from his brief relaxation. + +In his study he again sat down before the table where he had been +talking to his visitors. From the leaves of his blotting-paper he took a +letter which he had apparently been interrupted in writing. He took it +out in a quick, business-like way, and dipped his pen in the ink as +though, to finish rapidly; but then he sat still until the pen dried, +and no further word had been added. Again he dipped his pen, and again +let it dry. If the first sentence of the letter had taken as long to +compose as the second, it was no wonder that a caller had caused an +interruption. + +The letter, as it lay before him, had about a third of its page written +in a neat, forcible hand. The arms of his young college were printed at +the top. He had written:-- + + My dear brother,--I am very much concerned not to have heard + from you for so long. I have written to your old address in Montreal, + but received no answer. + +Here came the stop. At last he put pen to paper and went on:-- + + Even though we have disagreed as to what occupation is best for + you to follow, and also as to the degree of reserve that is desirable + as to what our father did, you must surely know that there is nothing + I desire more than your highest welfare. + +After looking at this sentence for a little while he struck his pen +through the word "highest," and then, offended with the appearance of +the obliteration, he copied this much of the letter on a fresh sheet and +again stopped. + +When he continued, it was on the old sheet. He made a rough copy of the +letter--writing, crossing out, and rewriting. It seemed that the task to +which he had set himself was almost harder than could appear possible, +for, as he became more absorbed in it, there was evidence of discomfort +in his attitude, and although the room was not warm, the moisture on his +forehead became visible in the strong light of the lamp above him. At +length, after preliminary pauses had been followed by a lengthened +period of vigorous writing, the letter was copied, and the writer sealed +it with an air of obvious relief. + +That done, he wrote another letter, the composition of which, although +it engaged his care, was apparently so much pleasanter, that perhaps the +doing of it was chosen on the same principle as one hears a farce after +a tragedy, in order to sleep the more easily. + +This second letter was to a lady. When it was written, Trenholme pulled +an album from a private drawer, and looked long and with interested +attention at the face of the lady to whom he had written. It was the +face of a young, handsome girl, who bore herself proudly. The fashion of +the dress would have suggested to a calculating mind that the portrait +had been taken some years before; but what man who imagines himself a +lover, in regarding the face of the absent dear one in the well-known +picture, adds in thought the marks of time? If he had been impartial he +would have asked the portrait if the face from which it was taken had +grown more proud and cold as the years went by, or more sad and +gentle--for, surely, in this work-a-day world of ours, fate would not be +likely to have gifts in store that would wholly satisfy those eager, +ambitious eyes; but, being a man no wiser than many other men, he looked +at the rather faded phonograph with considerable pleasure, and asked no +questions. + +It grew late as he contemplated the lady's picture, and, moreover, he +was not one, under any excuse, to spend much time in idleness. He put +away his album, and then, having personally locked up his house and said +good-night to his housekeeper, he went upstairs. + +Yet, in spite of all that Trenholme's pleasure in the letter and the +possession of the photograph might betoken, the missive, addressed to a +lady named Miss Rexford, was not a love-letter. It ran thus:-- + + I cannot even feign anger against "Dame Fortune," that, by so + unexpected a turn of her wheel, she should be even now bringing you + to the remote village where for some time I have been forced to make + my home, and where it is very probable I shall remain for some years + longer. I do, of course, unfeignedly regret the financial misfortune + which, as I understand, has made it necessary for Captain Rexford + to bring you all out to this young country; yet to me the pleasure of + expecting such neighbours must far exceed any other feeling with + which I regard your advent. + + I am exceedingly glad if I have been able to be of service to Captain + Rexford in making his business arrangements here, and hope all + will prove satisfactory. I have only to add that, although you must + be prepared for much that you will find different from English life, + much that is rough and ungainly and uncomfortable, you may feel + confident that, with a little patience, the worst roughness of + colonial life will soon be overcome, and that you will find compensation + a thousand times over in the glorious climate and cheerful prospects of + this new land. + + As I have never had the pleasure of meeting Captain and Mrs. Rexford, I + trust you will excuse me for addressing this note of welcome to you, + whom I trust I may still look upon as a friend. I have not forgotten the + winter when I received encouragement and counsel from you, who had so + many to admire and occupy you that, looking back now, I feel it strange + that you should have found time to bestow in mere kindness. + +Here there followed courteous salutations to the lady's father and +mother, brothers and sisters. The letter was signed in friendly style +and addressed to an hotel in Halifax, where apparently it was to await +the arrival of the fair stranger from some other shore. + +It is probable that, in the interfacings of human lives, events are +happening every moment which, although bearing according to present +knowledge no possible relation to our own lives, are yet to have an +influence on our future and make havoc with our expectations. The train +is laid, the fuse is lit, long before we know it. + +That night, as Robert Trenholme sealed his letters, an event took place +that was to test by a strange influence the lives of these three +people--Robert Trenholme, the lady of whom he thought so pleasantly, and +the young brother to whom he had written so laboriously. And the event +was that an old settler, who dwelt in a remote part of the country, went +out of his cabin in the delusive moonlight, slipped on a steep place, +and fell, thereby receiving an inward hurt that was to bring him death. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The Indian summer, that lingers in the Canadian forest after the fall of +the leaves, had passed away. The earth lay frozen, ready to bear the +snow. The rivers, with edge of thin ice upon their quiet places, +rolled, gathering into the surface of their waters the cold that would +so soon create their crystal prison. + +The bright sun of a late November day was shining upon a small lake that +lay in the lonely region to the west of the Gaspe Peninsula near the +Matapediac Valley. There was one farm clearing on a slope of the wild +hills that encircled the lake. The place was very lonely. An eagle that +rose from the fir-clad ridge above the clearing might from its eminence, +have seen other human habitations, but such sight was denied to the +dwellers in the rude log-house on the clearing. The eagle wheeled in the +air and flew southward. A girl standing near the log-house watched it +with discontented eyes. + +The blue water of the lake, with ceaseless lapping, cast up glinting +reflections of the cold sunlight. Down the hillside a stream ran to join +the lake, and it was on the more sheltered slope by this stream, where +grey-limbed maple trees grew, that the cabin stood. Above and around, +the steeper slopes bore only fir trees, whose cone-shaped or spiky +forms, sometimes burnt and charred, sometimes dead and grey, but for the +most part green and glossy, from shore and slope and ridge pointed +always to the blue zenith. + +The log-house, with its rougher sheds, was hard by the stream's ravine. +About the other sides of it stretched a few acres of tilled land. Round +this land the maple wood closed, and under its grey trees there was a +tawny brown carpet of fallen leaves from which the brighter autumn +colours had already faded. Up the hillside in the fir wood there were +gaps where the trees had been felled for lumber, and about a quarter of +a mile from the house a rudely built lumber slide descended to the lake. + +It was about an hour before sundown when the eagle had risen and fled, +and the sunset light found the girl who had watched it still standing in +the same place. All that time a man had been talking to her; but she +herself had not been talking, she had given him little reply. The two +were not close to the house; large, square-built piles of logs, sawn +and split for winter fuel, separated them from it. The man leaned +against the wood now; the girl stood upright, leaning on nothing. + +Her face, which was healthy, was at the same time pale. Her hair was +very red, and she had much of it. She was a large, strong young woman. +She looked larger and stronger than the man with whom she was +conversing. He was a thin, haggard fellow, not at first noticeable in +the landscape, for his clothes and beard were faded and worn into +colours of earth and wood, so that Nature seemed to have dealt with him +as she deals with her most defenceless creatures, causing them to grow +so like their surroundings that even their enemies do not easily observe +them. This man, however, was not lacking in a certain wiry physical +strength, nor in power of thought or of will. And these latter powers, +if the girl possessed them, were as yet only latent in her, for she had +the heavy and undeveloped appearance of backward youth. + +The man was speaking earnestly. At last he said:-- + +"Come now, Sissy, be a good lassie and say that ye're content to stay. +Ye've always been a good lassie and done what I told ye before." + +His accent was Scotch, but not the broad Scotch of an entirely +uneducated man. There was sobriety written in the traits of his face, +and more--a certain quality of intellectual virtue of the higher stamp. +He was not young, but he was not yet old. + +"I haven't," said the girl sullenly. + +He sighed at her perverseness. "That's not the way I remember it. I'm +sure, from the time ye were quite a wee one, ye have always tried to +please me.--We all come short sometimes; the thing is, what we are +trying to do." + +He spoke as if her antagonism to what he had been saying, to what he was +yet saying, had had a painful effect upon him which he was endeavouring +to hide. + +The girl looked over his head at the smoke that was proceeding from the +log-house chimney. She saw it curl and wreathe itself against the cold +blue east. It was white wood smoke, and as she watched it began to turn +yellow in the light from the sunset. She did not turn to see whence the +yellow ray came. + +"Now that father's dead, I won't stay here, Mr. Bates." She said "I +won't" just as a sullen, naughty girl would speak. "'Twas hateful enough +to stay while he lived, but now you and Miss Bates are nothing to me." + +"Nothing to ye, Sissy?" The words seemed to come out of him in pained +surprise. + +"I know you've brought me up, and taught me, and been far kinder to me +than father ever was; but I'm not to stay here all my life because of +_that_." + +"Bairn, I have just been telling ye there is nothing else ye can do just +now. I have no ready money. Your father had nothing to leave ye but his +share of this place; and, so far, we've just got along year by year, and +that's all. I'll work it as well as I can, and, if ye like, ye're +welcome to live free and lay by your share year by year till ye have +something to take with ye and are old enough to go away. But if ye go +off now ye'll have to live as a servant, and ye couldn't thole that, and +I couldn't for ye. Ye have no one to protect ye now but me. I've no +friends to send ye to. What do ye know of the world? It's unkind--ay, +and it's wicked too." + +"How's it so wicked? You're not wicked, nor father, nor me, nor the +men--how's people outside so much wickeder?" + +Bates's mouth--it was a rather broad, powerful mouth--began to grow hard +at her continued contention, perhaps also at the thought of the evils of +which he dreamed. "It's a very _evil_ world," he said, just as he would +have said that two and two made four to a child who had dared to +question that fact. "Ye're too young to understand it now: ye must take +my word for it." + +She made no sort of answer; she gave no sign of yielding; but, because +she had made no answer, he, self-willed and opinionated man that he was, +felt assured that she had no answer to give, and went on to talk as if +that one point were settled. + +"Ye can be happy here if ye will only think so. If we seem hard on ye in +the house about the meals and that, I'll try to be better tempered. Ye +haven't read all the books we have yet, but I'll get more the first +chance if ye like. Come, Sissy, think how lonesome I'd be without ye!" + +He moved his shoulders nervously while he spoke, as if the effort to +coax was a greater strain than the effort to teach or command. His +manner might have been that of a father who wheedled a child to do +right, or a lover who sued on his own behalf; the better love, for that +matter, is much the same in all relations of life. + +This last plea evidently moved her just a little. "I'm sorry, Mr. +Bates," she said. + +"What are ye sorry for, Sissy?" + +"That I'm to leave you." + +"But ye're not going. Can't ye get that out of your head? How will ye +go?" + +"In the boat, when they take father." + +At that the first flash of anger came from him. "Ye won't go, if I have +to hold ye by main force. I can't go to bury your father. I have to stay +here and earn bread and butter for you and me, or we'll come short of +it. If ye think I'm going to let ye go with a man I know little about--" + +His voice broke off in indignation, and as for the girl, whether from +sudden anger at being thus spoken to, or from the conviction of +disappointment which had been slowly forcing itself upon her, she began +to cry. His anger vanished, leaving an evident discomfort behind. He +stood before her with a weary look of effort on his face, as if he were +casting all things in heaven and earth about in his mind to find which +of them would be most likely to afford her comfort, or at least, to put +an end to tears which, perhaps for a reason unknown to himself, gave +him excessive annoyance. + +"Come, Sissy"--feebly--"give over." + +But the girl went on crying, not loudly or passionately, but with no +sign of discontinuance, as she stood there, large and miserable, before +him. He settled his shoulders obstinately against the wood pile, +thinking to wait till she should speak or make some further sign. +Nothing but strength of will kept him in his place, for he would gladly +have fled from her. He had now less guidance than before to what was +passing in her mind, for her face was more hidden from his sight as the +light of the sinking sun focussed more exclusively in the fields of +western sky behind her. + +Then the sun went down behind the rugged hills of the lake's other +shore; and, as it sank below their sharp outlines, their sides, which +had been clear and green, became dim and purple; the blue went out of +the waters of the lake, they became the hue of steel touched with +iridescence of gold; and above the hills, vapour that had before been +almost invisible in the sky, now hung in upright layers of purple mist, +blossoming into primrose yellow on the lower edges. A few moments more +and grey bloom, such as one sees on purple fruit, was on these vast +hangings of cloud that grouped themselves more largely, and gold flames +burned on their fringes. Behind them there were great empty reaches of +lambent blue, and on the sharp edge of the shadowed hills there was a +line of fire. + +It produced in Bates unthinking irritation that Nature should quietly go +on outspreading her evening magnificence in face of his discomfort. In +ordinal light or darkness one accepts the annoyances of life as coming +all in the day's work; but Nature has her sublime moments in which, if +the sensitive mind may not yield itself to her delight, it is forced +into extreme antagonism, either to her or to that which withholds from +joining in her ecstasy. Bates was a man sensitive to many forces, the +response to which within him was not openly acknowledged to himself. He +was familiar with the magnificence of sunsets in this region, but his +mind was not dulled to the marvel of the coloured glory in which the +daylight so often culminated. + +He looked off at the western sky, at first chiefly conscious of the +unhappy girl who stood in front of him and irritated by that intervening +shape; but, as his vision wandered along the vast reaches of illimitable +clouds and the glorious gulfs of sky, his mind yielded itself the rather +to the beauty and light. More dusky grew the purple of the upper mists +whose upright layers, like league-long wings of softest feather held +edge downward to the earth, ever changed in form without apparent +movement. More sparkling glowed the gold upon their edges. The sky +beneath the cloud was now like emerald. The soft darkness of purple +slate was on the hills. The lake took on a darker shade, and daylight +began to fade from the upper blue. + +It was only perhaps a moment--one of those moments for which time has no +measurement--that the soul of this man had gone out of him, as it were, +into the vastness of the sunset; and when he recalled it his situation +took on for him a somewhat different aspect. He experienced something of +that temporary relief from personal responsibility that moments of +religious sentiment often give to minds that are unaccustomed to +religion. He had been free for the time to disport himself in something +infinitely larger and wider than his little world, and he took up his +duty at the point at which he had left it with something of this sense +of freedom lingering with him. + +He was a good man--that is, a man whose face would have made it clear to +any true observer that he habitually did the right in contradistinction +to the wrong. He was, moreover, religious, and would not have been +likely to fall into any delusion of mere sentiment in the region of +religious emotion. But that which deludes a man commonly comes through a +safe channel. As a matter of fact, the excitement which the delight of +the eye had produced in him was a perfectly wholesome feeling, but the +largeness of heart it gave him at that moment was unfortunate. + +The girl stood just as before, ungainly and without power of expression +because undeveloped, but excitation of thought made what she might +become apparent to him in that which she was. He became more generous +towards her, more loving. + +"Don't greet, that's a good lassie," he said soothingly. "There's truth +in what ye have said--that it's dull for ye here because ye have nothing +to look ahead to. Well, I'll tell ye what I didn't mean to tell ye while +ye are so young--when ye're older, if ye're a good lassie and go on +learning your lessons as ye have been doing, I will ask ye to marry me, +and then (we hope of course to get more beforehand wi' money as years +go) ye will have more interest and--" + +"Marry!" interrupted the girl, not strongly, but speaking in faint +wonder, as if echoing a word she did not quite understand. + +"Yes," he went on with great kindliness, "I talked it over with your +father before he went, and he was pleased. I told him that, in a year or +two, if he liked it, I would marry ye--it's only if ye _like_, of +course; and ye'd better not think about it now, for ye're too young." + +"Marry me!" This time the exclamation came from her with a force that +was appalling to him. The coarse handkerchief which she had been holding +to her eyes was withdrawn, and with lips and eyes open she exclaimed +again: "Marry me! _You_!" + +It was remarkable how this man, who so far was using, and through long +years had always used, only the tone of mentor, now suddenly began to +try to justify himself with almost childlike timidity. + +"Your father and I didn't know of any one else hereabouts that would +suit, and of course we knew ye would naturally be disappointed if ye +didn't marry." He went on muttering various things about the convenience +of such an arrangement. + +She listened to nothing more than his first sentence, and began to move +away from him slowly a few steps backwards; then, perceiving that she +had come to the brink of the level ground, she turned and suddenly +stretched out her arm with almost frantic longing toward the cold, grey +lake and the dark hills behind, where the fires of the west still +struggled with the encroaching November night. + +As she turned there was light enough for him to see how bright the +burning colour of her hair was--bright as the burning copper glow on the +lower feathers of those great shadowy wings of cloud--the wings of night +that were enfolding the dying day. Some idea, gathered indefinitely from +both the fierceness of her gesture and his transient observation of the +colour of her hair, suggested to him that he had trodden on the sacred +ground of a passionate heart. + +Poor man! He would have been only too glad just then to have effaced his +foot-prints if he had had the least idea how to do it. The small shawl +she wore fell from her unnoticed as she went quickly into the house. He +picked it up, and folded it awkwardly, but with meditative care. It was +a square of orange-coloured merino, such as pedlars who deal with the +squaws always carry, an ordinary thing for a settler's child to possess. +As he held it, Bates felt compunction that it was not something finer +and to his idea prettier, for he did not like the colour. He decided +that he would purchase something better for her as soon as possible. He +followed her into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Night, black and cold, settled over the house that had that day for the +first time been visited by death. Besides the dead man, there were now +three people to sleep in it: an old woman, whose failing brain had +little of intelligence left, except such as showed itself in the +everyday habits of a long and orderly life; the young girl, whose mind +slow by nature in reaching maturity and retarded by the monotony of her +life, had not yet gained the power of realising its own deeper +thoughts, still less of explaining them to another; and this man, Bates, +who, being by natural constitution peculiarly susceptible to the strain +of the sight of illness and death which he had just undergone, was not +in the best condition to resist the morbid influences of unhappy +companionship. + +The girl shed tears as she moved about sullenly. She would not speak to +Bates, and he did not in the least understand that, sullen as she was, +her speechlessness did not result from that, but from inability to +reduce to any form the chaotic emotions within her, or to find any +expression which might represent her distress. He could not realise that +the childish mind that had power to converse for trivial things had, as +yet, no word for the not-trivial; that the blind womanly emotion on +which he had trodden had as yet no counterpart in womanly thought, which +might have formed excuses for his conduct, or at least have comprehended +its simplicity. He only felt uneasily that her former cause of +contention with him, her determination, sudden as her father's death, to +leave the only home she possessed, was now enforced by her antagonism to +the suggestion he had made of a future marriage, and he felt increasing +annoyance that it should be so. Naturally enough, a deep undercurrent of +vexation was settling in his mind towards her for feeling that +antagonism, but he was vexed also with himself for having suggested the +fresh source of contest just now to complicate the issue between them as +to whether she should remain where she was, at any rate for the present. +Remain she must; he was clear upon that point. The form of his religious +theories, long held in comparative isolation from mankind, convinced +him, whether truly or not, that humanity was a very bad thing; she +should not leave his protection, and he was considerate enough to desire +that, when the time came for launching the boat which was to take her +father's body to burial, he should not need to detain her by force. + +The girl set an ill-cooked supper before Bates and the hired man, and +would not herself eat. As Bates sat at his supper he felt drearily that +his position was hard; and, being a man whose training disposed him to +vaguely look for the cause of trial in sin, wondered what he had done +that it had thus befallen him. His memory reverted to the time when, on +an emigrant ship, he had made friends with the man Cameron who that day +had died, and they had agreed to choose their place and cast in their +lot together. It had been part of the agreement that the aunt who +accompanied Bates should do the woman's work of the new home until she +was too old, and that Cameron's child should do it when she was old +enough. + +The girl was a little fat thing then, wearing a red hood. Bates, uneasy +in his mind both as to his offer of marriage and her resentment, asked +himself if he was to blame that he had begun by being kind to her then, +that he had played with her upon the ship's deck, that on their land +journey he had often carried her in his arms, or that, in the years of +the hard isolated life which since then they had all lived, he had +taught and trained the girl with far more care than her father had +bestowed on her. Or was he to blame that he had so often been strict and +severe with her? Or was he unjust in feeling now that he had a righteous +claim to respect and consideration from her to an almost greater extent +than the dead father whose hard, silent life had showed forth little of +the proper attributes of fatherhood? Or did the sin for which he was now +being punished lie in the fact that, in spite of her constant wilfulness +and frequent stupidity, he still felt such affection for his pupil as +made him unwilling, as he phrased it, to seek a wife elsewhere and thus +thrust her from her place in the household. Bates had a certain latent +contempt for women; wives he thought were easily found and not +altogether desirable; and with that inconsistency common to men, he +looked upon his proposal to the girl now as the result of a much more +unselfish impulse than he had done an hour ago, before she exclaimed at +it so scornfully. He did not know how to answer himself. In all honesty +he could not accuse himself of not having done his duty by the girl or +of any desire to shirk it in the future; and that being the case, he +grew every minute more inclined to believe that the fact that his duty +was now being made so disagreeable to him was owing, not to any fault of +his, but to the naughtiness of her disposition. + +The hired man slept in an outer shed. When he had gone, and Bates went +up to his own bed in the loft of the log-house, the last sound that he +heard was the girl sobbing where she lay beside the old woman in the +room below. The sound was not cheering. + +The next day was sunless and colder. Twice that morning Sissy Cameron +stopped Bates at his work to urge her determination to leave the place, +and twice he again set his reasons for refusal before her with what +patience he could command. He told her, what she knew without telling, +that the winter was close upon them, that the winter's work at the +lumber was necessary for their livelihood, that it was not in his power +to find her an escort for a journey at this season or to seek another +home for her. Then, when she came to him again a third time, his anger +broke out, and he treated her with neither patience nor good sense. + +It was in the afternoon, and a chill north breeze ruffled the leaden +surface of the lake and seemed to curdle the water with its breath; +patches of soft ice already mottled it. The sky was white, and leafless +maple and evergreen seemed almost alike colourless in the dull, cold +air. Bates had turned from his work to stand for a few moments on the +hard trodden level in front of the house and survey the weather. He had +reason to survey it with anxiety. He was anxious to send the dead man's +body to the nearest graveyard for decent burial, and the messenger and +cart sent on this errand were to bring back another man to work with him +at felling the timber that was to be sold next spring. The only way +between his house and other houses lay across the lake and through a gap +in the hills, a way that was passable now, and passable in calm days +when winter had fully come, but impassable at the time of forming ice +and of falling and drifting snow. He hoped that the snow and ice would +hold off until his plan could be carried out, but he held his face to +the keen cold breeze and looked at the mottled surface of the lake with +irritable anxiety. It was not his way to confide his anxiety to any one; +he was bearing it alone when the girl, who had been sauntering aimlessly +about, came to him. + +"If I don't go with the boat to-morrow," she said, "I'll walk across as +soon as the ice'll bear." + +With that he turned upon her. "And if I was a worse man than I am I'd +let ye. It would be a comfort to me to be rid of ye. Where would ye go, +or what would ye do? Ye ought to be only too thankful to have a +comfortable home where ye're kept from harm. It's a cruel and bad world, +I tell ye; it's going to destruction as fast as it can, and ye'd go +with it." + +The girl shook with passion. "I'd do nothing of the sort," she choked. + +All the anger and dignity of her being were aroused, but it did not +follow that she had any power to give them adequate utterance. She +turned from him, and, as she stood, the attitude of her whole figure +spoke such incredulity, scorn, and anger, that the flow of hot-tempered +arguments with which he was still ready to seek to persuade her reason, +died on his lips. He lost all self-control in increasing ill-temper. + +"Ye may prance and ye may dance"--he jerked the phrase between his +teeth, using words wholly inapplicable to her attitude because he could +not analyse its offensiveness sufficiently to find words that applied to +it. "Yes, prance and dance as much as ye like, but ye'll not go in the +boat to-morrow if ye'd six fathers to bury instead of one, and ye'll not +set foot out of this clearing, where I can look after ye. I said to the +dead I'd take care of ye, and I'll do it--ungrateful lass though ye +are." + +He hurled the last words at her as he turned and went into a shed at +the side of the house in which he had before been working. + +The girl stood quite still as long as he was within sight. She seemed +conscious of his presence though she was not looking towards him, for as +soon as he had stepped within the low opening of the shed, she moved +away, walking in a wavering track across the tilled land, walking as if +movement was the end of her purpose, not as if she had destination. + +The frozen furrows of the ploughed land crumbled beneath her heavy +tread. The north wind grew stronger. When she reached the edge of the +maple wood and looked up with swollen, tear-blurred eyes, she saw the +grey branches moved by the wind, and the red squirrels leaped from +branch to branch and tree to tree as if blown by the same air. She +wandered up one side of the clearing and down the other, sometimes +wading knee-deep in loud rustling maple leaves gathered in dry hollows +within the wood, sometimes stumbling over frozen furrows as she crossed +corners of the ploughed land, walking all the time in helpless, hopeless +anger. + +When, however, she came back behind the house to that part of the +clearing bounded by the narrow and not very deep ravine which running +water had cut into the side of the hill, she seemed to gather some +reviving sensations from the variety which the bed of the brook +presented to her view. Here, on some dozen feet of steeply sloping rock +and earth, which on either side formed the trough of the brook, +vegetable life was evidently more delicate and luxuriant than elsewhere, +in the season when it had sway. Even now, when the reign of the frost +held all such life in abeyance, this grave of the dead summer lacked +neither fretted tomb nor wreathing garland; for above, the bittersweet +hung out heavy festoons of coral berries over the pall of its faded +leaves, and beneath, on frond of fern and stalk of aster, and on rough +surface of lichen-covered rock, the frost had turned the spray of water +to white crystals, and the stream, with imprisoned far-off murmur, made +its little leaps within fairy palaces of icicles, and spread itself in +pools whose leafy contents gave colours of mottled marble to the ice +that had grown upon them. It was on the nearer bank of this stream, +where, a little below, it curved closer to the house, that her father, +falling with a frost-loosened rock, had received his fatal injury. Out +of the pure idleness of despondency it occurred to the girl that, from +the point at which she had now arrived, she might obtain a new view of +the small landslip which had caused the calamity. + +She cast her arms round a lithe young birch whose silver trunk bent from +the top of the bank, and thus bridging the tangle of shrub and vine she +hung over the short precipice to examine the spot with sad curiosity. + +She herself could hardly have told what thoughts passed through her mind +as, childlike, she thus lapsed from hard anger into temporary amusement. +But greater activity of mind did come with the cessation of movement and +the examination of objects which stimulated such fancy as she possessed. +She looked at the beauty in the ravine beneath her, and at the rude +destruction that falling earth and rock had wrought in it a few yards +further down. She began to wonder whether, if the roots of the tree on +which she was at full length stretched should give way in the same +manner, and such a fall prove fatal to her also, Mr. Bates would be +sorry. It gave her a sensation of pleasure to know that such a mishap +would annoy and distress him very much; and, at the very moment of this +sensation, she drew back and tested the firmness of the ground about its +roots before resigning herself unreservedly to the tree again. When she +had resumed her former position with a feeling of perfect safety, she +continued for a few minutes to dilate in fancy upon the suffering that +would be caused by the death her whim had suggested. She was not a cruel +girl, not on the whole ill-natured, yet such is human nature that this +idea was actually the first that had given her satisfaction for many +hours. How sorry Mr. Bates would be, when he found her dead, that he had +dared to speak so angrily to her! It was, in a way, luxurious to +contemplate the pathos of such an artistic death for herself, and its +fine effect, by way of revenge, upon the guardian who had made himself +intolerable to her. + +From her post of observation she now saw, what had not before been +observed by any one, that where rock and earth had fallen treacherously +under her father's tread, another portion of the bank was loosened ready +to fall. Where this loosening--the work no doubt of the frost--had taken +place, there was but a narrow passage between the ravine and the house, +and she was startled to be the first to discover what was so essential +for all in the house to know. For many days the myriad leaves of the +forest had lain everywhere in the dry atmosphere peculiar to a Canadian +autumn, till it seemed now that all weight and moisture had left them. +They were curled and puckered into half balloons, ready for the wind to +toss and drift into every available gap. So strewn was this passage with +such dry leaves, which even now the wind was drifting upon it more +thickly, that the danger might easily have remained unseen. Then, as +fancy is fickle, her mind darted from the pleasurable idea of her own +death to consider how it would be if she did not make known her +discovery and allowed her enemy to walk into the snare. This idea was +not quite as attractive as the former, for it is sweeter to think of +oneself as innocently dead and mourned, than as guilty and performing +the office of mourner for another; and it was of herself only, whether +as pictured in Bates's sufferings or as left liberated by his death, +that the girl was thinking. Still it afforded relaxation to imagine what +she might do if she were thus left mistress of the situation; and she +devised a scheme of action for these circumstances that, in its clever +adaptation to what would be required, would have greatly amazed the man +who looked upon her as an unthinking child. + +The difference between a strong and a weak mind is not that the strong +mind does not indulge itself in wild fancies, but that it never gives to +such fancy the power of capricious sway over the centres of purpose. +This young woman was strong in mind as in body. No flickering intention +of actually performing that which she had imagined had place within her. +She played with the idea of death as she might have played with a toy, +while resting herself from the angry question into which her whole being +had for two days concentrated itself, as to how she could thwart the +will of the man who had assumed authority over her, and gain the freedom +that she felt was necessary to life itself. + +She had not lain many minutes upon the out-growing birch before she had +again forgotten her gust of revengeful fancy, and yielded herself to her +former serious mood with a reaction of greater earnestness. The winter +beauty of the brook, the grey, silent trees above, and the waste of dry +curled leaves all round--these faded from her observation because the +eye of her mind was again turned inwards to confront the circumstances +of her difficulty. + +As she leaned thus in childlike attitude and womanly size, her arms +twined round the tree and her cheek resting on its smooth surface, that +clumsiness which in all young animals seems inseparable from the period +when recent physical growth is not yet entirely permeated by the +character-life which gives it individual expression, was not apparent +and any intelligent eye seeing her would have seen large beauty in her +figure, which, like a Venus in the years when art was young, had no +cramped proportions. Her rough, grey dress hung heavily about her; the +moccasins that encased her feet were half hidden in the loose pile of +dry leaves which had drifted high against the root of the tree. There +was, however, no visible eye there to observe her youthful comeliness or +her youthful distress. If some angel was near, regarding her, she did +not know it, and if she had, she would not have been much interested; +there was nothing in her mood to respond to angelic pity or +appreciation. As it was, the strong tree was impotent to return her +embrace; its cold bark had no response for the caress of her cheek; the +north wind that howled, the trees that swayed, the dead leaves that +rustling fled, and the stream that murmured under its ice, gave but +drear companionship. Had she yielded her mind to their influence, the +desires of her heart might have been numbed to a transient despair more +nearly akin to a virtuous resignation to circumstance than the revolt +that was now rampant within her. She did not yield; she was not now +observing them; they only effected upon her inattentive senses an +impression of misery which fed the strength of revolt. + +A minute or two more and the recumbent position had become unendurable +as too passive to correspond with the inward energy. She clambered back, +and, standing upon level ground, turned, facing the width of the bare +clearing and the rough buildings on it, and looked toward the downward +slope and the wild lake, whose cold breath of water was agitated by the +wind. The sky was full of cloud. + +She stood up with folded arms, strength and energy in the stillness of +her attitude. She heard the sound of carpenter's tools coming from the +shed into which Bates had retired. No other hint of humanity was in the +world to which she listened, which she surveyed. As she folded her arms +she folded her bright coloured old shawl about her, and seemed to gather +within its folds all warmth of colour, all warmth of feeling, that was +in that wild, desolate place. + +A flake of snow fell on the shawl; she did not notice it. Another rested +upon her cheek; then she started. She did not move much, but her face +lifted itself slightly; her tear-swollen eyes were wide open; her lips +were parted, as if her breath could hardly pass to and fro quickly +enough to keep pace with agitated thought. The snow had begun to come. +She knew well that it would go on falling, not to-day perhaps, nor +to-morrow, but as certainly as time would bring the following days, so +certainly the snow would fall, covering the frozen surface of the earth +and water with foot above foot of powdery whiteness. Far as she now was +from the gay, active throng of fellow-creatures which she conceived as +existing in the outer world, and with whom she longed to be, the snow +would make that distance not only great, but impassable to her, unaided. + +It was true that she had threatened Bates with flight by foot across the +frozen lake; but she knew in truth that such departure was as dependent +on the submission of his will to hers as was her going in the more +natural way by boat the next day, for the track of her snow-shoes and +the slowness of her journey upon them would always keep her within his +power. + +The girl contemplated the falling flakes and her own immediate future at +the same moment. The one notion clear to her mind was, that she must get +away from that place before the cold had time to enchain the lake, or +these flakes to turn the earth into a frozen sea. Her one hope was in +the boat that would be launched to carry her dead father. She must go. +_She must go!_ + +Youth would not be strong if it did not seek for happiness with all its +strength, if it did not spurn pain with violence. All the notions that +went to make up this girl's idea of pain were gathered from her present +life of monotony and loneliness. All the notions that went to make up +her idea of happiness were culled from what she had heard and dreamed of +life beyond her wilderness. Added to this there was the fact that the +man who had presumed to stand between her and the accomplishment of the +first strong volition of her life had become intolerable to her--whether +more by his severity or by his kindliness she could not tell. She folded +her shawl-draped arms more strongly across her breast, and hugged to +herself all the dreams and desires, hopes and dislikes, that had grown +within her as she had grown in mind and stature in that isolated place. + +How could she accomplish her will? + +The flakes fell upon the copper gloss of her uncombed hair, on face and +hands that reddened to the cold, and gathered in the folds of the shawl. +She stood as still as a waxen figure, if waxen figure could ever be true +to the power of will which her pose betrayed. When the ground was white +with small dry flakes she moved again. Her reverie, for lack of +material, seemed to have come to nothing fresh. She determined to prefer +her request again to Bates. + +She walked round the house and came to the shed door. In this shed large +kettles and other vessels for potash-making were set up, but in front of +these Bates and his man were at work making a rude pinewood coffin. The +servant was the elder of the two. He had a giant-like, sinewy frame and +a grotesquely small head; his cheeks were round and red like apples, and +his long whiskers evidently received some attention from his vanity; it +seemed an odd freak for vanity to take, for all the rest of him was +rough and dirty. He wriggled when the girl darkened the doorway, but did +not look straight at her. + +"There's more of the bank going to slip where father fell--it's loose," +she said. + +They both heard. The servant answered her, commenting on the +information. These were the only words that were said for some time. The +girl stood and pressed herself against the side of the door. Bates did +not look at her. At last she addressed him again. Her voice was low and +gentle, perhaps from fear, perhaps from desire to persuade, perhaps +merely from repression of feeling. + +"Mr. Bates," she said, "you'll let me go in the boat with that?"--she +made a gesture toward the unfinished coffin. + +His anger had cooled since he had last seen her, not lessening but +hardening, as molten metal loses malleability as it cools. Much had been +needed to fan his rage to flame, but now the will fused by it had taken +the mould of a hard decision that nothing but the blowing of another +fire would melt. + +"Ye'll not go unless you go _in_ a coffin instead of along-side of it." + +The coarse humour of his refusal was analogous to the laugh of a chidden +child; it expressed not amusement, but an attempt to conceal nervous +discomposure. The other man laughed; his mind was low enough to be +amused. + +"It's no place for me here," she urged, "and I ought by rights to go to +the burying of my father." + +"There's no place for ye neither where he'll be buried; and as to ye +being at the funeral, it's only because I'm a long sight better than +other men about the country that I don't shovel him in where he fell. +I'm getting out the boat, and sending Saul here and the ox-cart two +days' journey, to have him put decently in a churchyard. I don't +b'lieve, if I'd died, you and your father would have done as much by +me." + +As he lauded his own righteousness his voice was less hard for the +moment, and, like a child, she caught some hope. + +"Yes, it's good of you, and in the end you'll be good and let me go too, +Mr. Bates." + +"Oh yes." There was no assent in his voice. "And I'll go too, to see +that ye're not murdered when Saul gets drunk at the first house; and +we'll take my aunt too, as we can't leave her behind; and we'll take the +cow that has to be milked, and the pigs and hens that have to be fed; +and when we get there, we'll settle down without any house to live in, +and feed on air." + +His sarcasm came from him like the sweat of anger; he did not seem to +take any voluntary interest in the play of his words. His manner was +cool, but it was noticeable that he had stopped his work and was merely +cutting a piece of wood with his jack-knife. As she looked at him +steadily he whittled the more savagely. + +The other man laughed again, and wriggled as he laughed. + +"No," she replied, "you can't come, I know; but I can take care of +myself." + +"It's a thieving, drunken lot of fellows Saul will fall in with. Ye may +prefer their society to mine, but I'll not risk it." + +"I can go to the minister." + +"And his wife would make a kitchen-girl of ye, and ye'd run off from her +in a week. If ye'd not stay here, where ye have it all your own way, +it's not long that ye'd put up wi' my lady's fault-finding; and +ministers and their wives isn't much better than other folks--I've told +ye before what I think of that sort of truck." + +There was a glitter in her eyes that would have startled him, but he did +not see it. He was looking only at the wood he was cutting, but he never +observed that he was cutting it. After a minute he uttered his +conclusion. + +"Ye'll stay wi' me." + +"_Stay_ with you," she cried, her breath catching at her words--"for how +long?" + +"I don't know." Complete indifference was in his tone. "Till ye're old, +I suppose; for I'm not likely to find a better place for ye." + +All the force of her nature was in the words she cast at him. + +"_I'll not stay_." + +"No?" he sneered in heavy, even irony. "Will ye cry on the neighbours to +fetch ye away?" + +She did not need to turn her head to see the wild loneliness of hill and +lake. It was present to her mind as she leaned on the rough wooden +lintel, looking into the shed. + +"Or," continued he, "will ye go a-visiting. There's the Indians camping +other side o' the mountain here "--he jerked his head backward to denote +the direction--"and one that came down to the tree-cutting two weeks ago +said there were a couple of wolves on the other hill. I dare say either +Indians or wolves would be quite glad of the _pleasure_ o' your +company." + +She raised herself up and seemed suddenly to fill the doorway, so that +both men looked up because much of their light was withdrawn. + +"You'd not have dared to speak to me like this while father was alive." + +As a matter of fact the accusation was not true. The father's presence +or absence would have made no difference to Bates had he been wrought up +to the same pitch of anger; but neither he nor the girl was in a +condition to know this. He only replied: + +"That's the reason I waited till he was dead." + +"If he hadn't been hurt so sudden he wouldn't have left me _here."_ + +"But he _was_ hurt sudden, and he _did_ leave ye here." + +She made as if to answer, but did not. Both men were looking at her now. +The snow was white on her hair. Her tears had so long been dry that the +swollen look was passing from her face. It had been until now at best a +heavy face, but feeling that is strong enough works like a master's +swift chisel to make the features the vehicle of the soul. Both men were +relieved when she suddenly took her eyes from them and her shadow from +their work and went away. + +Saul stretched his head and looked after her. There was no pity in his +little apple face and beady eyes, only a sort of cunning curiosity, and +the rest was dulness and weakness. + +Bates did not look after her. He shut his knife and fell to joining the +coffin. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The girl lifted the latch of the house-door, and went in. She was in the +living-room. The old woman sat in a chair that was built of wood against +the log wall. She was looking discontentedly before her at an iron +stove, which had grown nearly cold for lack of attention. Some chairs, a +table, a bed, and a ladder which led to the room above, made the chief +part of the furniture. A large mongrel dog, which looked as if he had +some blood of the grey southern sheep dog in him rose from before the +stove and greeted the in-comer silently. + +The dog had blue eyes, and he held up his face wistfully, as if he knew +something was the matter. The old woman complained of cold. It was plain +that she did not remember anything concerning death or tears. + +There was one other door in the side of the room which led to the only +inner chamber. The girl went into this chamber, and the heed she gave to +the dog's sympathy was to hold the door and let him follow her. Then she +bolted it. There were two narrow beds built against the wall; in one of +these the corpse of a grey-haired man was lying. The dog had seen death +before, and he evidently understood what it was. He did not move quickly +or sniff about; he laid his head on the edge of the winding-sheet and +moaned a little. + +The girl did not moan. She knelt down some way from the bed, with a +desire to pray. She did not pray; she whispered her anger, her +unhappiness, her desires, to the air of the cold, still room, repeating +the same phrases again and again with clenched hands and the convulsive +gestures of half-controlled passion. + +The reason she did not pray was that she believed that she could only +pray when she was "good," and after falling on her knees she became +aware that goodness, as she understood it, was not in her just then, nor +did she even desire it. The giving vent to her misery in half-audible +whispers followed involuntarily on her intention to pray. She knew not +why she thus poured out her heart; she hardly realised what she said or +wished to say; yet, because some expression of her helpless need was +necessary, and because, through fear and a rugged sense of her own evil, +she sedulously averted her mind from the thought of God, her action had, +more than anything else, the semblance of an invocation to the dead man +to arise and save her, and take vengeance on her enemy. + +Daylight was in the room. The girl had knelt at first upright; then, as +her passion seemed to avail nothing, but only to weary her, she sank +back, sitting on her feet, buried her locked hands deeply in her lap, +and with head bowed over them, continued to stab the air with short, +almost inaudible, complaints. The dead man lay still. The dog, after +standing long in subdued silence, came and with his tongue softly lapped +some of the snow-water from her hair. + +After that, she got up and went with him back into the kitchen, and lit +the fire, and cooked food, and the day waned. + +There is never in Nature that purpose to thwart which man in his +peevishness is apt to attribute to her. Just because he desired so much +that the winter should hold off a few days longer, Bates, on seeing the +snow falling from the white opaque sky, took for granted that the +downfall would continue and the ice upon the lake increase. Instead of +that, the snow stopped falling at twilight without apparent cause, and +night set in more mildly. + +Darkness fell upon the place, as darkness can only fall upon solitudes, +with a lonesome dreariness that seemed to touch and press. Night is not +always dark, but with this night came darkness. There was no star nor +glimmer of light; the pine-clad hills ceased to have form; the water in +the lake was lost to all sense but that of hearing; and upon nearer +objects the thinly sprinkled snow bestowed no distinctness of outline, +but only a weird show of whitish shapes. The water gave forth fitful +sobs. At intervals there were sounds round the house, as of stealthy +feet, or of quick pattering feet, or of trailing garments--this was the +wind busy among the drifting leaves. + +The two men, who had finished the coffin by the light of a lantern, +carried it into the house and set it up against the wall while they ate +their evening meal. Then they took it to a table in the next room to put +the dead man in it. The girl and the dog went with them. They had +cushioned the box with coarse sacking filled with fragrant pine +tassels, but the girl took a thickly quilted cloth from her own bed and +lined it more carefully. They did not hinder her. + +"We've made it a bit too big," said Saul; "that'll stop the shaking." + +The corpse, according to American custom, was dressed in its clothes--a +suit of light grey homespun, such as is to be bought everywhere from +French-Canadian weavers. When they had lifted the body and put it in the +box, they stopped involuntarily to look, before the girl laid a +handkerchief upon the face. There lay a stalwart, grey-haired man--dead. +Perhaps he had sinned deeply in his life; perhaps he had lived as nobly +as his place and knowledge would permit--they could not tell. Probably +they each estimated what they knew of his life from a different +standpoint. The face was as ashen as the grey hair about it, as the grey +clothes the body wore. They stood and looked at it--those three, who +were bound to each other by no tie except such as the accident of time +and place had wrought. The dog, who understood what death was, exhibited +no excitement, no curiosity; his tail drooped; he moaned quietly against +the coffin. + +Bates made an impatient exclamation and kicked him. The kick was a +subdued one. The wind-swept solitude without and the insistent presence +of death within had its effect upon them all. Saul looked uneasily over +his shoulder at the shadows which the guttering candle cast on the wall. +Bates handled the coffin-lid with that shrinking from noise which is +peculiar to such occasions. + +"Ye'd better go in the other room," said he to Sissy. "It's unfortunate +we haven't a screw left--we'll have to nail it." + +Sissy did not go. They had made holes in the wood for the nails as well +as they could, but they had to be hammered in. It was very +disagreeable--the sound and the jar. With each stroke of Saul's hammer +it seemed to the two workmen that the dead man jumped. + +"There, man," cried Bates angrily; "that'll do." + +Only four nails had been put in their places--one in each side. With +irritation that amounted to anger against Saul, Bates took the hammer +from him and shoved it on to a high shelf. + +"Ye can get screws at the village, ye know," he said, still indignantly, +as if some fault had appertained to Saul. + +Then, endeavouring to calm an ill-temper which he felt to be wholly +unreasonable, he crossed his arms and sat down on a chair by the wall. +His sitting in that room at all perhaps betokened something of the same +sensation which in Saul produced those glances before and behind, +indicating that he did not like to turn his back upon any object of awe. +In Bates this motive, if it existed, was probably unconscious or +short-lived; but while he still sat there Saul spoke, with a short, +silly laugh which was by way of preface. + +"Don't you think, now, Mr. Bates, it 'ud be better to have a prayer, or +a hymn, or something of that sort? We'd go to bed easier." + +To look at the man it would not have been easy to attribute any just +notion of the claims of religion to him. He looked as if all his +motions, except those of physical strength, were vapid and paltry. +Still, this was what he said, and Bates replied stiffly: + +"I've no objections." + +Then, as if assuming proper position for the ceremony that was to ease +his mind, the big lumberman sat down. The girl also sat down. + +Bates, wiry, intelligent Scot that he was, sat, his arms crossed and his +broad jaw firmly set, regarding them both with contempt in his mind. +What did they either of them know about the religion they seemed at this +juncture to feel after as vaguely as animals feel after something they +want and have not? But as for him, he understood religion; he was quite +capable of being priest of his household, and he felt that its weak +demand for a form of worship at this time was legitimate. In a minute, +therefore, he got up, and fetching a large Bible from the living-room he +sat down again and turned over its leaves with great precision and +reverence. + +He read one of the more trenchant of the Psalms, a long psalm that had +much in it about enemies and slaughter. It had a very strong meaning for +him, for he put himself in the place of the writer. The enemies +mentioned were, in the first place, sins--by which he denoted the more +open forms of evil; and, in the second place, wicked men who might +interfere with him; and under the head of wicked men he classed all whom +he knew to be wicked, and most other men, whom he supposed to be so. He +was not a self-righteous man--at least, not more self-righteous than +most men, for he read with as great fervour the adjurations against sins +into which he might fall as against those which seemed to him pointed +more especially at other sinners who might persecute him for his +innocence. He was only a suspicious man made narrower by isolation, and +the highest idea he had of what God required of him was a life of +innocence. There was better in him than this--much of impulse and action +that was positively good; but he did not conceive that it was of the +workings of good that seemed so natural that God took account. + +Upon Saul also the psalm had adequate effect, for it sounded to him +pious, and that was all he desired. + +The girl, however, could not listen to a word of it. She fidgeted, not +with movement of hands or feet, but with the restlessness of mind and +eyes. She gazed at the boards of the ceiling, at the boards of the +floor, at the log walls on which each shadow had a scalloped edge +because of the form of tree-trunks laid one above another. At length her +eyes rested on the lid of the coffin, and, with nervous strain, she made +them follow the grain of the wood up and down, up and down. There was an +irregular knothole in the lid, and on this her eyes fixed themselves, +and the focus of her sight seemed to eddy round and round its darkened +edge till, with an effort, she turned from it. + +The boards used for making the coffin had been by no means perfect. +They were merely the best that could be chosen from among the bits of +sawn lumber at hand. There was a tiny hole in one side, at the foot, and +this larger one in the lid above the dead man's breast, where knots had +fallen out with rough handling, leaving oval apertures. The temptation +Sissy felt to let her eyes labour painfully over every marking in the +wood and round these two holes--playing a sort of sad mechanical game +therewith--and her efforts to resist the impulse, made up the only +memory she had of the time the reading occupied. + +There was a printed prayer upon a piece of paper kept inside the lid of +the Bible, and when Bates had read the psalm, he read this also. He +knelt while he did so, and the others did the same. Then that was +finished. + +"I'll move your bed into the kitchen, Sissy," said Bates. + +He had made the same offer the night before, and she had accepted it +then, but now she replied that she would sooner sleep in that room than +near the stove. He was in no mood to contest such a point with her. Saul +went out to his shed. Bates shut the house door, and went up the ladder +to his loft. Both were soon in the sound slumber that is the lot of men +who do much outdoor labour. + +The girl helped the old woman to bed in the kitchen. Then she went back +and sat in the chamber of death. + +Outside, the wind hustled the fallen leaves. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +At dawn Bates came down the ladder again, and went out quietly. The new +day was fair, and calm; none of his fears were fulfilled. The dead man +might start upon his journey, and Bates knew that the start must be an +early one. + +He and Saul, taking long-handled oars and poles, went down to the +water's edge, where a big, flat-bottomed boat was lying drawn up on the +shore to avoid the autumn storms. The stones of the beach looked black: +here and there were bits of bright green moss upon them: both stones and +moss had a coating of thin ice that glistened in the morning light. + +It was by dint of great exertion that they got the clumsy vessel into +the water and fastened her to a small wooden landing. They used more +strength than time in their work. There was none of that care and skill +required in the handling of the scow that a well-built craft would have +needed. When she was afloat and tied, they went up the hill again, and +harnessed a yoke of oxen to a rough wooden cart. Neither did this take +them long. Bates worked with a nervousness that almost amounted to +trembling. He had in his mind the dispute with the girl which he felt +sure awaited him. + +In this fear also he was destined to be disappointed. When he went to +the inner room the coffin lay as he had left it, ready for its journey, +and on the girl's bed in the corner the thick quilts were heaped as +though the sleeper, had tossed restlessly. But now there was no +restlessness; he only saw her night-cap beyond the quills; it seemed +that, having perhaps turned her face to the wall to weep, she had at +last fallen into exhausted and dreamless slumber. + +Bates and Saul carried out the coffin eagerly, quietly. Even to the +callous and shallow mind of Saul it was a relief to escape a contest +with an angry woman. They set the coffin on the cart, and steadied it +with a barrel of potash and sacks of buckwheat, which went to make up +the load. By a winding way, where the slope was easiest, they drove the +oxen between the trees, using the goad more and their voices as little +as might be, till they were a distance from the house. Some trees had +been felled, and cut off close to the ground, so that a cart might pass +through the wood; this was the only sign of an artificial road. The fine +powdered snow of the night before had blown away. + +When they reached the beach again, the eastern sky, which had been +grey, was all dappled with cold pink, and the grey water reflected it +somewhat. There was clearer light on the dark green of the pine-covered +hills, and the fine ice coating on stone and weed at the waterside had +sharper glints of brilliancy. + +Bates observed the change in light and colour; Saul did not; neither was +disposed to dally for a moment. They were obliged to give forth their +voices now in hoarse ejaculations, to make the patient beasts understand +that they were to step off the rough log landing-place into the boat. +The boat was almost rectangular in shape, but slightly narrower at the +ends than in the middle, and deeper in the middle than at the ends; it +was of rough wood, unpainted. The men disposed the oxen in the middle of +the boat; the cart they unloaded, and distributed its contents as they +best might. With long stout poles they then pushed off from the shore. +Men and oxen were reflected in the quiet water. + +They were not bound on a long or perilous voyage. The boat was merely to +act as a ferry round a precipitous cliff where the shore was impassable, +and across the head of the gushing river that formed the lake's outlet, +for the only road through the hills lay along the further shore of this +stream. + +The men kept the boat in shallow water, poling and rowing by turns. +There was a thin coating of ice, like white silk, forming on the water. +As they went, Bates often looked anxiously where the log house stood on +the slope above him, fearing to see the girl come running frantic to the +water's edge, but he did not see her. The door of the house remained +shut, and no smoke rose from its chimney. They had left the childish old +woman sitting on the edge of her bed; Bates knew that she would be in +need of fire and food, yet he could not wish that the girl should wake +yet. "Let her sleep," he muttered to himself. "It will do her good." +Yet it was not for her good he wished her to sleep, but for his own +peace. + +The pink faded from the sky, but the sun did not shine forth brightly. +It remained wan and cold, like a moon behind grey vapours. + +"I'll not get back in a week, or on wheels," said Saul. He spoke more +cheerfully than was pleasing to his employer. + +"If it snows ye'll have to hire a sleigh and get back the first minute +you can." The reply was stern. + +The elder and bigger man made no further comment. However much he might +desire to be kept in the gay world by the weather, the stronger will and +intellect, for the hour at least, dominated his intention. + +They rowed their boat past the head of the river. In an hour they had +reached that part of the shore from which the inland road might be +gained. They again loaded the cart. It, like the boat, was of the +roughest description; its two wheels were broad and heavy; a long pole +was mortised into their axle. The coffin and the potash barrel filled +the cart's breadth; the sacks of buckwheat steadied the barrel before +and behind. The meek red oxen were once more fastened to it on either +side of the long pole. The men parted without farewells. + +Saul turned his back on the water. The large, cold morning rang to his +voice--"Gee. Yo-hoi-ist. Yo-hoi-eest. Gee." The oxen, answering to his +voice and his goad, laboured onward over the sandy strip that bound the +beach, up the hill among the maple trees that grew thickly in the vale +of the small river. Bates watched till he saw the cattle, the cart, and +Saul's stalwart form only indistinctly through the numerous grey +tree-stems that broke the view in something the way that ripples in +water break a reflection. When the monotonous shouting of Saul's +voice--"Gee, gee, there. Haw, wo, haw. Yo-hoi-eest," was somewhat +mellowed by the widening space, Bates stepped into the boat, and, +pushing off, laboured alone to propel her back across the lake. + +It took him longer to get back now that he was single-handed. The +current of the lake towards its outlet tended to push the great clumsy +scow against the shore. He worked his craft with one oar near the stern, +but very often he was obliged to drop it and push out from shore with +his pole. It was arduous, but all sense of the cold, bleak weather was +lost, and the interest and excitement of the task were refreshing. To +many men, as to many dogs, there is an inexplicable and unreasoning +pleasure in dealing with water that no operation upon land can yield. +Bates was one of these; he would hardly have chosen his present lot if +it had not been so; but, like many a dry character of his stamp, he did +not give his more agreeable sensations the name of pleasure, and +therefore could afford to look upon pleasure as an element unnecessary +to a sober life. Mid pushings and splashings, from the management of his +scow, from air and sky, hill and water, he was in reality, deriving as +great pleasure as any millionaire might from the sailing of a choice +yacht; but he was aware only that, as he neared the end of his double +journey, he felt in better trim in mind and body to face his lugubrious +and rebellious ward. + +When, however, he had toiled round the black rock cliff which hid the +clearing from the river's head, and was again in full sight of his own +house, all remembrance of the girl and his dread of meeting her passed +from him in his excessive surprise at seeing several men near his +dwelling. His dog was barking and leaping in great excitement. He heard +the voices of other dogs. It took but the first glance to show him that +the men were not Indians. Full of excited astonishment he pushed his +boat to the shore. + +His dog, having darted with noisy scatter of dry leaves down the hill to +meet him, stood on the shore expectant with mouth open, excitement in +his eyes and tail, saying as clearly as aught can be said without +words--"This is a very agreeable event in our lives. Visitors have +come." The moment Bates put his foot on land the dog bounded barking up +the hill, then turned again to Bates, then again bounded off toward the +visitors. Even a watchdog may be glad to see strangers if the pleasure +is only rare enough. + +Bates mounted the slope as a man may mount stairs--two steps at a time. +Had he seen the strangers, as the saying is, dropping from the clouds, +he could hardly have been more surprised than he was to see civilised +people had reached his place otherwise than by the lake, for the rugged +hills afforded nothing but a much longer and more arduous way to any +settlement within reach. When he got up, however, he saw that these men +carried with them implements of camp-life and also surveying +instruments, by which he judged, and rightly, that his guests were +ranging the lonely hills upon some tour of official survey. + +That the travellers _were_ his guests neither he nor they had the +slightest doubt. They had set down their traps close to his door, and, +in the calm confidence that it would soon be hospitably opened by +rightful hands, they had made no attempt to open it for themselves. +There were eight men in the party, two of whom, apparently its more +important members, sauntered to meet Bates, with pipes in their mouths. +These told him what district they were surveying, by what track they had +just come over the hill, where they had camped the past night, where +they wanted to get to by nightfall. They remarked on the situation of +his house and the extent of his land. They said to him, in fact, more +than was immediately necessary, but not more than was pleasant for him +to hear or for them to tell. It is a very taciturn man who, meeting a +stranger in a wilderness, does not treat him with more or less of +friendly loquacity. + +Under the right circumstances Bates was a genial man. He liked the look +of these men; he liked the tone of their talk; and had he liked them +much less, the rarity of the occasion and the fact that he was their +host would have expanded his spirits. He asked astute questions about +the region they had traversed, and, as they talked, he motioned them +towards the house. He had it distinctly in his mind that he was glad +they had come across his place, and that he would give them a hot +breakfast; but he did not say so in words--just as they had not troubled +to begin their conversation with him by formal greetings. + +The house door was still shut; there was still no smoke from the +chimney, although it was now full three hours since Bates had left the +place. Saying that he would see if the women were up, he went alone into +the house. The living-room was deserted, and, passing through the inner +door, which was open, he saw his aunt, who, according to custom was +neatly dressed, sitting on the foot of Sissy's empty bed. The old woman +was evidently cold, and frightened at the unusual sounds outside; +greatly fretted, she held the girl's night-cap in her hand, and the +moment he appeared demanded of him where Sissy was, for she must have +her breakfast. The girl he did not see. + +The dog had followed him. He looked up and wagged his tail; he made no +sign of feeling concern that the girl was not there. Bates could have +cursed his dumbness; he would fain have asked where she had gone. The +dog probably knew, but as for Bates, he not only did not know, but no +conjecture rose in his mind as to her probable whereabouts. + +He took his aunt to her big chair, piled the stove from the well-stored +wood-box, and lit it. Then, shutting the door of the room where the +disordered bed lay and throwing the house-door open, he bid the visitors +enter. He went out himself to search the surroundings of the house, but +Sissy was not to be found. + +The dog did not follow Bates on this search. He sat down before the +stove in an upright position, breathed with his mouth open, and bestowed +on the visitors such cheerful and animated looks that they talked to and +patted him. Their own dogs had been shut into the empty ox-shed for the +sake of peace, and the house-dog was very much master of the situation. + +Of the party, the two surveyors--one older and one younger--were men of +refinement and education. British they were, or of such Canadian birth +and training as makes a good imitation. Five of the others were +evidently of humbler position--axe-men and carriers. The eighth man, who +completed the party, was a young American, a singularly handsome young +fellow--tall and lithe. He did not stay in the room with the others, but +lounged outside by himself, leaning against the front of the house in +the white cold sunlight. + +In the meantime Bates, having searched the sheds and inspected with +careful eyes the naked woods above the clearing, came back +disconsolately by the edge of the ravine, peering into it suspiciously +to see if the girl could, by some wild freak, be hiding there. When he +came to the narrow strip of ground between the wall of the house and the +broken bank he found himself walking knee-deep in the leaves that the +last night's gale had drifted there, and because the edge of the ravine +was thus entirely concealed, he, remembering Sissy's warning, kicked +about the leaves cautiously to find the crack of which she had spoken, +and discovered that the loose portion had already fallen. It suddenly +occurred to him to wonder if the girl could possibly have fallen with +it. Instantly he sprang down the ravine, feeling among the drifted +leaves on all sides, but nothing except rock and earth was to be found +under their light heaps. It took only a few minutes to assure him of the +needlessness of his fear. The low window of the room in which Sissy had +slept looked out immediately upon this drift of leaves, and, as Bates +passed it, he glanced through the uncurtained glass, as if the fact that +it was really empty was so hard for him to believe that it needed this +additional evidence. Then the stacks of fire-wood in front of the house +were all that remained to be searched, and Bates walked round, looking +into the narrow aisles between them, looking at the same time down the +hill, as if it might be possible that she had been on the shore and he +had missed her. + +"What are you looking for?" asked the young American. The question was +not put rudely. There was a serenity about the youth's expectation of an +answer which, proving that he had no thought of over-stepping good +manners, made it, at the same time, very difficult to withhold an +answer. + +Bates turned annoyed. He had supposed everybody was within. + +"What have you lost?" repeated the youth. + +"Oh--" said Bates, prolonging the sound indefinitely. He was not +deceitful or quick at invention, and it seemed to him a manifest +absurdity to reply--"a girl." He approached the house, words hesitating +on his lips. + +"My late partner's daughter," he observed, keeping wide of the mark, +"usually does the cooking." + +"Married?" asked the young man rapidly. + +"She?--No," said Bates, taken by surprise. + +_"Young_ lady?" asked the other, with more interest. Bates was not +accustomed to consider his ward under his head. + +"She is just a young girl about seventeen," he replied stiffly. + +"Oh, halibaloo!" cried the youth joyously. "Why, stranger, I haven't set +eyes on a young lady these two months. I'd give a five dollar-bill this +minute, if I had it, to set eyes on her right here and now." He took his +pipe from his lips and clapped his hand upon his side with animation as +he spoke. + +Bates regarded him with dull disfavour. He would himself have given more +than the sum mentioned to have compassed the same end, but for different +reasons, and his own reasons were so grave that the youth's frivolity +seemed to him doubly frivolous. + +"I hope," he said coldly, "that she will come in soon." His eyes +wandered involuntarily up the hill as he spoke. + +"Gone out walking, has she?" The youth's eyes followed in the same +direction. "Which way has she gone?" + +"I don't know exactly which path she may have taken." Bates's words grew +more formal the harder he felt himself pressed. + +"Path!" burst out the young man--_"Macadamised road,_ don't you mean? +There's about as much of one as the other on this here hill." + +"I meant," said Bates, "that I didn't know where she was." + +His trouble escaped somewhat with his voice as he said this with +irritation. + +The youth looked at him curiously, and with some incipient sympathy. +After a minute's reflection he asked, touching his forehead: + +"She ain't weak here, is she--like the _old_ lady?" + +"Nothing of the sort," exclaimed Bates, indignantly. The bare idea cost +him a pang. Until this moment he had been angry with the girl; he was +still angry, but a slight modification took place. He felt with her +against all possible imputations. + +"All right in the headpiece, is she?" reiterated the other more lightly. + +"Very intelligent," replied Bates. "I have taught her myself. She is +remarkably intelligent." The young man's sensitive spirits, which had +suffered slight depression from contact with Bates's perturbation, now +recovered entirely. + +"Oh, Glorianna!" he cried in irrepressible anticipation. "Let this very +intelligent young lady come on! Why"--in an explanatory way--"if I saw +as much as a female dress hanging on a clothes-line out to dry, I'm in +that state of mind I'd adore it properly." + +If Bates had been sure that the girl would return safely he would +perhaps have been as well pleased that she should not return in time to +meet the proposed adoration; as it was, he was far too ill at ease +concerning her not to desire her advent as ardently as did the naive +youth. The first feeling made his manner severe; the second constrained +him to say he supposed she would shortly appear. + +His mind was a good deal confounded, but if he supposed anything it was +that, having wakened to find herself left behind by the boat, she had +walked away from the house in an access of anger and disappointment, and +he expected her to return soon, because he did not think she had courage +or resolution to go very far alone. Underneath this was the uneasy fear +that her courage and resolution might take her farther into danger than +was at all desirable, but he stifled the fear. + +When he went in he told the company, in a few matter-of-fact words of +his partner's death, and the object of the excursion from which they had +seen him return. He also mentioned that his aunt's companion, the dead +man's child, had, it appeared, gone off into the woods that +morning--this was by way of apology that she was not there to cook for +them, but he took occasion to ask if they had seen her on the hill. As +they had come down the least difficult way and had not met her, he +concluded that she had not endeavoured to go far afield, and tried to +dismiss his anxiety and enjoy his guests in his own way. + +Hospitality, even in its simplest form, is more often a matter of +amiable pride than of sincere unselfishness, but it is not a form of +pride with which people are apt to quarrel. Bates, when he found himself +conversing with scientific men of gentle manners, was resolved to show +himself above the ordinary farmer of that locality. He went to the +barrel where the summer's eggs had been packed in soft sand, and took +out one apiece for the assembled company. He packed the oven with large +potatoes. He put on an excellent supply of tea to boil. The travellers, +who, in fact, had had their ordinary breakfast some hours before, made +but feeble remonstrances against these preparations, remonstrances which +only caused Bates to make more ample provision. He brought out a large +paper bag labelled, "patent self-raising pancake meal," and a small +piece of fat pork. Here he was obliged to stop and confess himself in +need of culinary skill; he looked at the men, not doubting that he could +obtain it from them. + +"The Philadelphian can do it better," said one. This was corroborated by +the others. "Call Harkness," they cried, and at the same time they +called Harkness themselves. + +The young American opened the door and came in in a very leisurely, not +to say languid, manner. He took in the situation at a glance without +asking a question. "But," said he, "are we not to wait for the +intelligent young lady? Female intelligence can make the finer pancake." + +The surveyors manifested some curiosity. "What do you know about a young +lady?" they asked. + +"The young lady of the house," replied Harkness. "Hasn't +_he"_--referring to Bates--"told you all about her? The domestic +divinity who has just happened to get mislaid this morning. I saw him +looking over the wood pile to see if she had fallen behind it, but she +hadn't." + +"It is only a few days since her father died," said the senior of the +party gravely. + +"And so," went on the young man, "she has very properly given these few +days to inconsolable grief. But now our visit is just timed to comfort +and enliven her, _why_ is she not here to be comforted and enlivened?" + +No-one answered, and, as the speaker was slowly making his way toward +the frying-pan, no one seemed really apprehensive that he would keep +them waiting. The youth had an oval, almost childish face; his skin was +dark, clear, and softly coloured as any girl's; his hair fell in black, +loose curls over his forehead. He was tall, slender without being thin, +very supple; but his languid attitudes fell short of grace, and were +only tolerable because they were comic. When he reached out his hand for +the handle of the frying-pan he held the attention of the whole company +by virtue of his office, and his mind, to Bates's annoyance, was still +running on the girl. + +"Is she fond of going out walking alone?" he asked. + +"How could she be fond of walking when there's no place to walk?" Bates +spoke roughly. "Besides, she has too much work to do." + +"Ever lost her before?" + +"No," said Bates. It would have been perfectly unbearable to his pride +that these strangers should guess his real uneasiness or its cause, so +he talked as if the fact of the girl's long absence was not in any way +remarkable. + +Having mixed a batter the American sliced pork fat into the hot pan and +was instantly obscured from view by the smoke thereof. In a minute his +face appeared above it like the face of a genius. + +"You will observe, gentlemen," he cried without bashfulness, "that I now +perform the eminently interesting operation of dropping cakes--one, two, +three. May the intelligent young lady return to eat them!" + +No one laughed, but his companions smiled patiently at his antics--a +patience born of sitting in a very hot, steamy room after weeks in the +open air. + +"You are a cook," remarked Bates. + +The youth bent his long body towards him at a sudden angle. "Born a +cook--dentist by profession--by choice a vagabond." + +"Dentist?" said Bates curiously. + +"At your service, sir." + +"He is really a dentist," said one of the surveyors with sleepy +amusement. "He carries his forceps round in his vest pocket." + +"I lost them when I scrambled head first down this gentleman's +macadamised road this morning, but if you want a tooth out I can use the +tongs." + + +"My teeth are all sound," said Bates. + +"Thank the Lord for that!" the young man answered with an emphatic piety +which, for all that appeared, might have been perfectly sincere. + +"And the young lady?" he asked after a minute. + +"What?" + +"The young lady's teeth--the teeth of the intelligent young lady--the +intelligent teeth of the young lady--are they sound?" + +"Yes." + +He sighed deeply. "And to think," he mourned, "that he should have +casually lost her _just_ this morning!" + +He spoke exactly as if the girl were a penknife or a marble that had +rolled from Bates's pocket, and the latter, irritated by an inward fear, +grew to hate the jester. + +When the meal, which consisted of fried eggs, pancakes, and potatoes, +was eaten, the surveyors spent an hour or two about the clearing, +examining the nature of the soil and rock. They had something to say to +Bates concerning the value of his land which interested him exceedingly. +Considering how rare it was for him to see any one, and how fitted he +was to appreciate intercourse with men who were manifestly in a higher +rank of life than he, it would not have been surprising if he had +forgotten Sissy for a time, even if they had had nothing to relate of +personal interest to himself. As it was, even in the excitement of +hearing what was of importance concerning his own property, he did not +wholly forget her; but while his visitors remained his anxiety was in +abeyance. + +When they were packing their instruments to depart, the young American, +who had not been with them during the morning, came and took Bates aside +in a friendly way. + +"See here," he said, "were you gassing about that young lady? There +ain't no young lady now, is there?" + +"I told you"--with some superiority of manner--"she is not a young lady; +she is a working girl, an emigrant's----" + +"Oh, Glorianna!" he broke out, "girl or lady, what does it matter to me? +Do you mean to say you've really lost her?" + +The question was appalling to Bates. All the morning he had not dared to +face such a possibility and now to have the question hurled at him with +such imperative force by another was like a terrible blow. But when a +blow is thus dealt from the outside, a man like Bates rallies all the +opposition of his nature to repel it. + +"Not at all"--his manner was as stiff as ever--"she is lurking somewhere +near." + +"Look here--I've been up the hill that way, and that way, and that +way"--he indicated the directions with his hand--"and I've been down +round the shore as far as I could get, and I've had our two dogs with +me, who'd either of them have mentioned it if there'd been a stranger +anywheres near; and she ain't here. An' if she's climbed _over_ the +hill, _she's_ a spunky one--somewhat spunkier than _I_ should think +natural." He looked at Bates very suspiciously as he spoke. + +"Well?" + +"Well, _my_ belief is that there ain't no young lady, and that you're +gassing me." + +"Very well," said Bates, and he turned away. It was offensive to him to +be accused of telling lies--he was not a man to give any other name than +"lie" to the trick attributed to him, or to perceive any humour in the +idea of it--but it was a thousand times more offensive that this youth +should have presumed to search for Sissy and to tell him that the search +had been vain. + +Horrible as the information just given was, he did not more than half +believe it, and something just said gave him a definite idea of +hope--the strange dogs had not found Sissy, but the house-dog, if +encouraged to seek, would certainly find her. He had felt a sort of +grudge against the animal all day, because he must know which way she +had gone and could not tell. Now he resolved as soon as the strangers +were gone to set the dog to seek her. Upon this he stayed his mind. + +The surveyors hoped to get a few days' more work done before the winter +put an end to their march; they determined when thus stopped to turn +down the river valley and take the train for Quebec. The way they now +wished to take lay, not in the direction in which the ox-cart had gone, +but over the hills directly across the lake. The scow belonging to this +clearing, on which they had counted, was called into requisition. + +The day was still calm; Bates had no objection to take them across. At +any other time he would have had some one to leave in charge of the +place, but especially as he would be in sight of the house all the time, +he made no difficulty of leaving as it was. He could produce four oars, +such as they were, and the way across was traversed rapidly. + +"And there ain't really a female belonging to the place, except the old +lady," said the dentist, addressing the assembled party upon the scow. +"It was all a tale, and--my eye;--he took me in completely." + +Probably he did not give entire credence to his own words, and wished to +provoke the others to question Bates further; but they were not now in +the same idle mood that had enthralled them when, in the morning, they +had listened to him indulgently. Their loins were girded; they were +intent upon what they were doing and what they were going to do. No one +but Bates paid heed to him. + +Bates heard him clearly enough, but, so stubbornly had he set himself to +rebuff this young man, and so closely was he wrapped in that pride of +reserve that makes a merit of obstinate self-reliance, that it never +even occurred to him to answer or to accept this last offer of a +fellow-man's interest in the search he was just about to undertake. + +He had some hope that, if Sissy were skulking round, she would find it +easier to go back to the house when he was absent, and that he should +find her as usual on his return; but, as he wrought at his oar in +returning across the leaden water, looking up occasionally to make the +log house his aim, and staring for the most part at the lone hills, +under the pine woods of which his late companions had disappeared, his +heart gradually grew more heavy; all the more because the cheerfulness +of their society had buoyed up his spirit in their presence, did it now +suffer depression. The awful presentiment began to haunt him that he +would not find the girl that night, that he had in grim reality "lost +her." If this were the case, what a fool, what a madman, he had been to +let go the only aid within his reach! He stopped his rowing for a +minute, and almost thought of turning to call the surveying party back +again. But no, Sissy might be--in all probability was--already in the +house; in that case what folly to have brought them back, delaying their +work and incurring their anger! So he reasoned, and went on towards +home; but, in truth, it was not their delay or displeasure that deterred +him so much as his own pride, which loathed the thought of laying bare +his cause for fear and distress. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +The day was duller now. The sun, in passing into the western sky, had +entered under thicker veils of white. The film of ice on the bay, which +had melted in the pale sunbeams of noon, would soon form again. The air +was growing bitterly cold. + +When Bates had moored his boat, he went up the hill heavily. The dog, +which had been shut in the house to guard it, leaped out when he opened +the door. Sissy was not there. + +Bates went in and found one of her frocks, and, bringing it out, tried +to put the animal on the scent of her track. He stooped, and held the +garment under the dog's nose. The dog sniffed it, laid his nose +contentedly on Bates's arm, looked up in his face, and wagged his tail +with most annoying cheerfulness. + +"Where is she?" jerked Bates. "Where is she? Seek her, good dog." + +The dog, all alert, bounded off a little way and returned again with an +inconsequent lightness in tail and eye. One of his ears had been torn in +a battle with the strange dogs, but he was more elated by the conflict +than depressed by the wound. When he came back, he seemed to Bates +almost to smile as if he said: "It pleases me that you should pay me so +much attention, but as for the girl, I know her to be satisfactorily +disposed of." Bates did not swear at the animal; he was a Scotchman, and +he would have considered it a sin to swear: he did not strike the dog +either, which he would not have considered a sin at all. He was actually +afraid to offend the only living creature who could befriend and help +him in his search. Very patiently he bent the dog's nose to the frock +and to the ground, begging and commanding him to seek. At length the dog +trotted off by a circuitous route up the clearing, and Bates followed. +He hoped the dog was really seeking, but feared he was merely following +some fancy that by thus running he would be rid of his master's +solicitude. + +Bates felt it an odd thing that he should be wandering about with a +girl's frock in his hands. It was old, but he did not remember that he +had ever touched it before or noticed its material or pattern. He looked +at it fondly now, as he held it ready to renew the dog's memory if his +purpose should falter. + +The dog went on steadily enough until he got to the edge of the woods, +where his footsteps made a great noise on the brittle leaves. He kicked +about in them as if he liked the noise they made, but offered to go no +farther. Bates looked at them and knew that the dog was not likely to +keep the scent among them if the girl had gone that way. He stood erect, +looking up the drear expanse of the hill, and the desperate nature of +his situation came upon him. He had been slow--slow to take it in, +repelling it with all the obstinacy of an obstinate mind. Now he saw +clearly that the girl had fled, and he was powerless to pursue at the +distance she might now have reached, the more so as he could not tell +which way she had taken. He would have left his live stock, but the +helpless old woman, whose life depended on his care, he dared not leave. +He stood and considered, his mind working rapidly under a stress of +emotion such as perhaps it had never known before--certainly not since +the first strong impulses of his youth had died within his cautious +heart. + +Then he remembered that Sissy had walked about the previous day, and +perhaps the dog was only on the scent of yesterday's meanderings. He +took the animal along the top of the open space, urging him to find +another track, and at last the dog ran down again by the side of the +stream. Bates followed to the vicinity of the house, no wiser than he +had been at first. + +The dog stopped under the end window of the house where old Cameron +fell, and scratched among the leaves on the fresh fallen earth. Bates +was reminded of the associations of the fatal spot. He thought of his +old friend's deathbed, of the trust that had there been confided to him. +Had he been unfaithful to that trust? With the impatience of sharp pain, +he called the dog again to the door of the house, and again from that +starting-point tried to make him seek the missing one. He did this, not +because he had much hope in the dog now, but because he had no other +hope. + +This time the dog stood by, sobered by his master's soberness, but +looking with teasing expectancy, ready to do whatever was required if he +might only know what that was. To Bates, who was only anxious to act at +the dumb thing's direction, this expectancy was galling. He tore off a +part of the dress and fastened it to the dog's collar. He commanded him +to carry it to her in such excited tones that the old woman heard, and +fumbled her way out of the door to see what was going on. And Bates +stood between the dumb animal and the aged wreck of womanhood, and felt +horribly alone. + +Clearly the sagacious creature not only did not know where to find the +girl, but knew that she was gone where he could not find her, for he +made no effort to carry his burden a step. Bates took it from him at +last, and the dog, whose feelings had apparently been much perturbed, +went down to the water's edge, and, standing looking over the lake, +barked there till darkness fell. + +The night came, but the girl did not come. Bates made a great torch of +pine boughs and resin, and this he lit and hoisted on a pole fixed in +the ground, so that if she was seeking to return to her home in the +darkness she might be guided by it. He hoped also that, by some chance, +the surveying party might see it and know that it was a signal of +distress; but he looked for their camp-fire on the opposite hills, and, +not seeing it, felt only too sure that they had gone out of sight of +his. He fed and watched his torch all night. Snow began to fall; as he +looked up it seemed that the flame made a globe of light in the thick +atmosphere, around which closed a low vault of visible darkness. From +out of this darkness the flakes were falling thickly. When the day broke +he was still alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +When Saul and the oxen were once fairly started, they plodded on +steadily. The track lay some way from the river and above it, through +the gap in the hills. Little of the hills did Saul see for he was moving +under trees all the way, and when, before noon, he descended into the +plain on the other side, he was still for a short time under a canopy of +interlacing boughs. There was no road; the trees were notched to show +the track. In such forests there is little obstruction of brushwood, and +over knoll and hollow, between the trunks, the oxen laboured on. Saul +sat on the front ledge of the cart to balance it the better. The coffin, +wedged in with the potash barrel, lay pretty still as long as they kept +on the soft soil of the forest, but when, about one o'clock, the team +emerged upon a corduroy road, made of logs lying side by side across the +path, the jolting often jerked the barrel out of place, and then Saul +would go to the back of the cart and jerk it and the coffin into +position again. + +The forest was behind them now. This log road was constructed across a +large tract which sometime since had been cleared by a forest fire, but +was now covered again by thick brush standing eight or ten feet high. +One could see little on either side the road except the brown and grey +twigs of the saplings that grew by the million, packed close together. +The way had been cut among them, yet they were forcing their sharp +shoots up again between the seams of the corduroy, and where, here and +there, a log had rotted they came up thickly. The ground was low, and +would have been wet about the bushes had it not been frozen. Above, the +sky was white. Saul could see nothing but his straight road before and +behind, the impenetrable thicket and the white sky. It was a lonely +thing thus to journey. + +While he had been under the forest, with an occasional squirrel or +chipmunk to arrest his gaze, and with all things as familiar to sight as +the environments of the house in which he was accustomed to live, Saul +had felt the vigour of the morning, and eaten his cold fat bacon, +sitting on the cart, without discontent. But now it was +afternoon--which, we all know, brings a somewhat more depressing +air--and the budless thickets stood so close, so still, Saul became +conscious that his load was a corpse. He had hoped, in a dull way, to +fall in with a companion on this made road; the chances were against it, +and the chances prevailed. Saul ate more bread and bacon. He had to walk +now, and often to give the cart a push, so that the way was laborious; +but, curiously enough, it was not the labour he objected to, but the +sound of his own voice. All the way the silent thicket was listening to +his "Gee-e, gee; haw then";--"yo-hoi-eest"; yet, as he and his oxen +progressed further into the quiet afternoon, he gradually grew more and +more timid at the shouts he must raise. It seemed to him that the dead +man was listening, or that unknown shapes or essences might be disturbed +by his voice and rush out from the thicket upon him. Such fears he +had--wordless fears, such as men never repeat and soon forget. Rough, +dull, hardy woodman as he was, he felt now as a child feels in the dark, +afraid of he knew not what. + +The way was very weary. He trudged on beside the cart. Something went +wrong with one of his boots, and he stopped the oxen in order to take it +off. The animals, thus checked, stood absolutely still, hanging down +their heads in an attitude of rest. The man went behind the cart and sat +on its edge. He leaned on the end of the coffin as he examined the boot. +When that was put right he could not deny himself the luxury of a few +minutes' rest. The oxen, with hanging heads, looked as if they had gone +to sleep. The man hung his head also, and might have been dozing from +his appearance. He was not asleep, however. What mental machinery he had +began to work more freely, and he actually did something that might be +called thinking on the one subject that had lain as a dormant matter of +curiosity in his head all day--namely, how the girl would act when she +woke to find the cart was actually gone and she left behind. He had seen +old Cameron die, and heard Bates promise to do his best for his +daughter; he remembered her tears and pleading on the preceding day; the +situation came to him now, as perceptions come to dull minds, with force +that had gathered with the lapse of time. He had not the refinement and +acuteness of mind necessary to make him understand the disinterested +element in Bates's tyranny, and while he sympathised cunningly with the +selfishness of which, in his mind, he accused Bates, it seemed to him +that the promise to the dead was broken, and he thought upon such +calamities as might befall in token of the dead man's revenge. + +How awfully silent it was! There was no breath in the chill, still air; +there was no sound of life in all the dark, close brushwood; the oxen +slept; and Saul, appalled by the silence that had come with his silence, +appalled to realise more vividly than ever that he, and he alone, had +been the instigator of voice in all that region, was cowed into thinking +that, if the dead could rise from the grave for purposes of revenge, how +much more easily could he rise now from so crude a coffin as he himself +had helped to construct for him! + +It was in this absolute silence that he heard a sound. He heard the dead +man turn in his coffin! He heard, and did not doubt his hearing; it was +not a thing that he could easily be deceived about as he sat with his +elbow on the coffin. He sat there not one instant longer; the next +moment he was twenty feet away, standing half-hidden in the edge of the +brushwood, staring at the cart and the coffin, ready to plunge into the +icy swamp and hide farther among the young trees if occasion required. +Occasion did not require. The oxen dozed on; the cart, the barrel, and +the coffin stood just as he had left them. + +Perhaps for five minutes the frightened man was still. Gradually his +muscles relaxed, and he ceased to stand with limbs and features all +drawn in horror away from the coffin. He next pulled back his foot from +the icy marsh; but even then, having regained his equilibrium on the +road, he had not decided what to do, and it took him some time longer to +turn over the situation in his mind. He had heard the dead man move; he +was terribly frightened; still, it might have been a mistake, and, any +way, the most disagreeable course, clearly, was to remain there till +nightfall. He had run backward in his first alarm; so, to get to the +nearest habitation, it would be necessary to pass the cart on the road, +even if he left it there. Had any further manifestation of vitality +appeared on the part of the corpse he would have felt justified in +running back into the forest, but this was an extreme measure. He did +not wish to go near the cart, but to turn his back upon it seemed almost +as fearsome. He stood facing it, as a man faces a fierce dog, knowing +that if he turns and runs the dog will pursue. He supposed that as long +as he stared at the coffin and saw nothing he could be sure that the +deceased remained inside, but that if he gave the ghost opportunity to +get out on the sly it might afterwards come at him from any point of the +compass. He was an ignorant man, with a vulgar mind; he had some +reverence for a corpse, but none whatever for a ghost. His mind had +undergone a change concerning the dead the moment he had heard him move, +and he looked upon his charge now as equally despicable and gruesome. + +After some further delay he discovered that the course least +disagreeable would be to drive the oxen with his voice and walk as far +behind the cart as he now was, keeping the pine box with four nails on +its lid well in view. Accordingly, making a great effort to encourage +himself to break the silence, he raised his shout in the accustomed +command to the oxen, and after it had been repeated once or twice, they +strained at the cart and set themselves to the road again. They did not +go as fast as when the goad was within reach of their flanks; or rather; +they went more slowly than then, for "fast" was not a word that could +have been applied to their progress before. Yet they went on the whole +steadily, and the "Gee" and "Haw" of the gruff voice behind guided them +straight as surely as bit and rein. + +At length it could be seen in the distance that the road turned; and +round this turning another human figure came in sight. Perhaps in all +his life Saul never experienced greater pleasure in meeting another man +than he did now, yet his exterior remained gruff and unperturbed. The +only notice that he appeared to take of his fellow-man was to adjust his +pace so that, as the other came nearer the cart in front, Saul caught up +with it in the rear. At last they met close behind it, and then, as +nature prompted, they both stopped. + +The last comer upon the desolate scene was a large, hulking boy. He had +been plodding heavily with a sack upon his back. As he stopped, he set +this upon the ground and wiped his brow. + +The boy was French; but Saul, as a native of the province, talked +French about as well as he did English--that is to say, very badly. He +could not have written a word of either.--The conversation went on in +the _patois_ of the district. + +"What is in the box?" asked the boy, observing that the carter's eyes +rested uneasily upon it. + +"Old Cameron died at our place the day before yesterday," answered Saul, +not with desire to evade, but because it did not seem necessary to +answer more directly. + +"What of?" The boy looked at the box with more interest now. + +"He died of a fall"--briefly. + +The questioner looked at the pinewood box now with considerable +solicitude. "Did his feet swell?" he asked. As Saul did not immediately +assent, he added--"When the old M. Didier died, his feet swelled." + +"What do you think of the coffin?" Saul said this eyeing it as if he +were critically considering it as a piece of workmanship. + +"M. Didier made a much better one for his little child," replied the +boy. + +"If he did, neither Mr. Bates nor me is handy at this sort of work. We +haven't been used to it. It's a rough thing. Touch it. You will see it's +badly made." + +He gained his object. The boy fingered the coffin, and although he did +not praise the handiwork, it seemed to Saul that some horrid spell was +broken when human hands had again touched the box and no evil had +resulted. + +"Why didn't you bury him at home?" asked the boy. "He was English." + +"Mr. Bates has strict ideas, though he is English. He wanted it done +proper, in a graveyard, by a minister. He has wrote to the minister at +St. Hennon's and sent money for the burying--Mr. Bates, he is always +particular." + +"You are not going to St. Hennon's?" said the boy incredulously. "I'll +stay to-night at Turrifs, and go on in the morning. It's four days' walk +for me and the cattle to go and come, but I shall take back a man to cut +the trees." + +"Why not send him by the new railroad?" + +"It does not stop at Turrifs." + +"Yes; they stop at the cross-roads now, not more than three miles from +Turrifs, There's a new station, and an Englishman set to keep it. I've +just brought this sack of flour from there. M. Didier had it come by the +cars." + +"When do they pass to St. Hennon's?" asked Saul meditatively,--"But +anyway, the Englishman wouldn't like to take in a coffin." + +"They pass some time in the night; and he must take it in if you write +on it where it's going. It's not his business to say what the cars will +take, if you pay." + +"Well," said Saul. "Good-day. Yo-hoist! Yo, yo, ho-hoist!" + +It did not seem to him necessary to state whether he was, or was not, +going to take the advice offered. The straining and creaking of the +cart, his shouts to the oxen, would have obliterated any further query +the boy might have made. He had fairly moved off when the boy also took +up his burden and trudged on the other way. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +When the blueberry bushes are dry, all the life in them, sucked into +their roots against another summer, the tops turn a rich, brownish red; +at this time, also, wild bramble thickets have many a crimson stalk that +gives colour to their mass, and the twigs that rise above the white +trunks of birch trees are not grey, but brown. + +Round the new railway station at the cross-roads near Turrifs +Settlement, the low-lying land, for miles and miles, was covered with, +blueberry bushes; bramble thickets were here and there; and where the +land rose a little, in irregular places, young birch woods stood. If the +snow had sprinkled here, as it had upon the hills the night before, +there was no sign of it now. The warm colour of the land seemed to glow +against the dulness of the afternoon, not with the sparkle and +brightness which colour has in sunshine, but with the glow of a sleeping +ember among its ashes. Round the west there was metallic blue colouring +upon the cloud vault. This colouring was not like a light upon the +cloud, it was like a shadow upon it; yet it was not grey, but blue. +Where the long straight road from Turrifs and the long straight road +from the hills crossed each other, and were crossed by the unprotected +railway track with its endless rows of tree-trunks serving as telegraph +poles, the new station stood. + +It was merely a small barn, newly built of pinewood, divided into two +rooms--one serving as a store-room for goods, the other as waiting-room, +ticket office, and living-room of the station-master. The +station-master, who was, in fact, master, clerk, and porter in one, was +as new to his surroundings as the little fresh-smelling pinewood house. +He was a young Englishman, and at the first glance it could be seen he +had not long been living in his present place. He had, indeed, not yet +given up shaving himself, and his clothes, although rough, warm, and +suited to his occupation, still suggested, not homespun, but an outfit +bought of a tailor. + +It was about four o'clock on that November afternoon when the new +official of the new station looked out at the dark red land and the +bright-tinted cloud. It was intensely cold. The ruts of the roads, which +were not made of logs here, were frozen stiff. The young man stood a +minute at his door with his hands in his pockets, sniffed the frost, and +turned in with an air of distaste. A letter that had been brought him by +the morning train lay on his table, addressed to "Alec Trenholme, Esq." +It had seen vicissitudes, and been to several addresses in different +cities, before it had been finally readdressed to this new station. +Perhaps its owner had not found the path to fortune which he sought in +the New World as easily accessible as he had expected. Whether he had +now found it or not, he set himself to that which he had found in manly +fashion. + +Coming in from the cold without, and shutting himself in, as he +supposed, for the evening, he wisely determined to alleviate the +peculiar feeling of cold and desolation which the weather was fitted to +induce by having an early tea. He set his pan upon a somewhat rusty +stove and put generous slices of ham therein to fry. He made tea, and +then set forth his store of bread, his plates and cup, upon the table, +with some apparent effort to make the meal look attractive. The frying +ham soon smelt delicious, and while it was growing brown, Alec Trenholme +read his letter for the fifth time that day. It was not a letter that he +liked, but, since the morning train, only two human beings had passed by +the station, and the young station-master would have read and re-read a +more disagreeable epistle than the one which had fallen to his lot. It +was dated from a place called Chellaston, and was from his brother. It +was couched in terms of affection, and contained a long, closely +reasoned argument, with the tenor of which it would seem the reader did +not agree, for he smiled at it scornfully! + +He had not re-read his letter and dished his ham before sounds on the +road assured him an ox-cart was approaching, and, with an eagerness to +see who it might be which cannot be comprehended by those who have not +lived in isolation, he went out to see Saul and his cattle coming at an +even pace down the road from the hills. The cart ran more easily now +that the road was of the better sort, and the spirits of both man and +beasts were so raised by the sight of a house that they all seemed in +better form for work than when in the middle of their journey. + +Alec Trenholme waited till the cart drew up between his door and the +railway track, and regarded the giant stature of the lumberman, his +small, round head, red cheeks, and luxuriant whiskers, with that +intense but unreflecting interest which the lonely bestow upon +unexpected company. He looked also, with an eye to his own business, at +the contents of the cart, and gave the man a civil "good evening." + +As he spoke, his voice and accent fell upon the air of this wilderness +as a rarely pleasant thing to hear. Saul hastily dressed his whiskers +with his horny left-hand before he answered, but even then, he omitted +to return the greeting. + +"I want to know," he said, sidling up, "how much it would cost to send +that by the cars to St. Hennon's." He nudged his elbow towards the +coffin as he spoke. + +"That box?" asked the station-master. "How much does it weigh?" + +"We might weigh it if I'd some notion first about how much I'd need to +pay." + +"What's in it?" + +Saul smoothed his whiskers again. "Well," he said--then, after a slight +pause--"it's a dead man." + +"Oh!" said Trenholme. Some habit of politeness, unnecessary here, kept +his exclamation from expressing the interest he instantly felt. In a +country where there are few men to die, even death assumes the form of +an almost agreeable change as a matter of lively concern. Then, after a +pause which both men felt to be suitable, "I suppose there is a special +rate for--that sort of thing, you know. I really haven't been here very +long. I will look it up. I suppose you have a certificate of death, +haven't you?" + +Again Saul dressed his whiskers. His attention to them was his +recognition of the fact that Trenholme impressed him as a superior. + +"I don't know about a certificate. You've heard of the Bates and Cameron +clearin', I s'pose; it's old Cameron that's dead"--again he nudged his +elbow coffinward--"and Mr. Bates he wrote a letter to the minister at +St. Hennon's." + +He took the letter from his pocket as he spoke, and Trenholme perceived +that it was addressed in a legible hand and sealed. + +"I fancy it's all right," said he doubtfully. He really had not any idea +what the railway might require before he took the thing in charge. + +Saul did not make answer. He was not quite sure it was all right, but +the sort of wrongness he feared was not to be confided to the man into +whose care he desired to shove the objectionable burden. + +"What did he die of?" asked the young man. + +"He fell down, and he seemed for some days as if he'd get over it; then +he was took sudden. We put his feet into a hot pot of water and made him +drink lye." + +"Lye?" + +"Ash water--but we gave it him weak." + +"Oh." + +"But--he died." + +"Well, that was sad. Does he leave a wife and family?" + +"No," said Saul briefly. "But how much must I pay to have the cars take +it the rest of the way?" + +Trenholme stepped into his room and lit his lamp that he might better +examine his list of rates. Saul came inside to warm himself at the +stove. The lamp in that little room was the one spot of yellow light in +the whole world that lay in sight, yet outside it was not yet dark, only +dull and bitterly cold. + +Trenholme stood near the lamp, reading fine print upon a large card. The +railway was only just opened and its tariff incomplete as yet. He found +no particular provision made for the carriage of coffins. It took him +some minutes to consider under what class of freight to reckon this, but +he decided not to weigh it. Saul looked at the room, the ham and tea, +and at Trenholme, with quiet curiosity in his beady eyes. Outside, the +oxen hung their heads and dozed again. + +"You see," said Saul, "I'll get there myself with the potash to-morrow +night; then I can arrange with the minister." + +He had so much difficulty in producing the requisite number of coins for +the carriage that it was evident the potash could not be sent by train +too; but Trenholme was familiar now with the mode of life that could +give time of man and beast so easily, and find such difficulty in +producing a little money of far less value. He did remark that, as the +cart was to complete the journey, the coffin might as well travel the +second day as it had done the first; but, Saul showed reluctance to hear +this expostulation, and certainly it was not the station-master's +business to insist. The whole discussion did not take long. Saul was +evidently in a haste not usual to such as he, and Trenholme felt a +natural desire to sit down to his tea, the cooking of which filled the +place with grateful perfume. Saul's haste showed itself more in nervous +demeanour than in capacity to get through the interview quickly. Even +when the money was paid, he loitered awkwardly. Trenholme went into his +store-room, and threw open its double doors to the outside air. + +"Help me in with it, will you?" + +It was the pleasant authority of his tone that roused the other to +alacrity. They shouldered the coffin between them. The store-room was +fairly large and contained little. Trenholme placed the coffin +reverently by itself in an empty corner. He brought a pot of black paint +and a brush, and printed on it the necessary address. Then he thought a +moment, and added in another place the inscription--"Box containing +coffin--to be handled with care." + +It is to be remarked how dependent we are for the simplest actions on +the teaching we have had. Never having received the smallest instruction +as to how to deal with such a charge, it cost him effort of thought and +some courage to put on this inscription. Saul watched, divided between +curious interest and his desire to be away. + +"You've got another coffin inside this case, of course?" said the +station-master, struck with a sudden doubt. + +To him, polished wood and silver plating seemed such a natural accessory +of death that he had, without thought, always associated the one idea +with the other. + +"No, that's all there is. We made it too large by mistake, but we put a +bed quilt in for stuffing." + +"But, my man, it isn't very well put together; the lid isn't tight." + +"No--neither it is." Saul had already sidled to the door. + +Trenholme felt it with his thumb and fingers. + +"It's perfectly loose," he cried. "It's only got a few nails in the lid. +You ought to have put in screws, you know." + +"Yes, but we hadn't got any; we had used the last screws we had for the +hinge of a door. I'm going to buy some to put in at St. Hennon's. +Good-day." + +As they spoke, Saul had been going to his cart, and Trenholme following, +with authoritative displeasure in his mien. + +"It's exceedingly careless--upon my word. Come back and nail it up +firmer," cried he. + +But Saul drove off. + +The young station-master went back to the store-room. He looked at the +box for a moment, with annoyance still in his mind. The air that he had +would have sat well upon a man with servants under him, but was somewhat +futile in the keeper of a desolate railway-station. He had not been able +to command the man, and he certainly could not command the coffin to +nail itself more firmly together. After all, his tea waited. Somewhat +sullenly he barred the double door on the inside, and went back to his +own room and his evening meal. + +The room was filled with the steam of the boiling tea as he poured it +out, and the smoke of the ham gravy. With the strength of youth and +health he thrust aside the annoyance of his official position from his +present mind, and set himself to his supper with considerable +satisfaction. + +He had not, however, eaten a single morsel before he heard a sound in +the next room which caused him to sit erect and almost rigid, forgetting +his food. He had been so pre-occupied a minute before with the +carelessness of those who constructed the coffin that he had left the +inner door between the two rooms ajar. It was through this that the +sound came, and it seemed to his quickened sense to proceed from the +corner in which the pinewood box reposed, but he hastily went over all +the contents of the room to think if any of them could be falling or +shifting among themselves. The sound still continued; it seemed as if +something was being gently worked to and fro, as in a soft socket. His +imagination was not very quick to represent impossible dangers, nor had +he in him more cowardice than dwells in most brave men. He did not allow +himself to conclude that he heard the coffin-lid being opened from the +inside. He took his lamp and went to see what was wrong. + +The sound ceased as he moved. When the light of the lamp was in the next +room all was perfectly silent. For almost half a minute he stood still, +shading his eyes from the lamp, while, with every disagreeable sensation +crowding upon him, he observed distinctly that, although the nails were +still holding it loosely in place, the lid of the coffin was raised half +an inch, more than that indeed, at the top. + +"Now, look here, you know--this won't do," said Trenholme, in loud +authoritative tones; so transported was he by the disagreeableness of +his situation that, for the moment, he supposed himself speaking to the +man with whom he had just spoken. Then, realising that that man, +although gone, was yet probably within call, he set down the lamp +hastily and ran out. + +It seemed to him remarkable that Saul and the oxen could have gone so +far along the road, although of course they were still plainly in +sight. He shouted, but received no answer. He raised his voice and +shouted again and again, with force and authority. He ran, as he +shouted, about twenty paces. In return he only heard Saul's own commands +to his oxen. Whether the man was making so much noise himself that he +could not hear, or whether he heard and would not attend, Trenholme +could not tell, but he felt at the moment too angry to run after him +farther. It was not his place to wait upon this carter and run his +errands! Upon this impulse he turned again. + +However, as he walked back, the chill frost striking his bare head, he +felt more diffidence and perplexity about his next action than was at +all usual to him. He knew that he had no inclination to investigate the +contents of the box. All the curiosity stirred within him still failed +to create the least desire to pry further; but, on the other hand, he +could not think it right to leave the matter as it was. A strong feeling +of duty commanding him to open the coffin and see that all was right, +and a stout aversion to performing this duty, were the main elements of +his consciousness during the minutes in which he retraced his steps to +the house. + +He had set down the lamp on a package just within the baggage-room door, +so that his own room, by which he entered, was pretty dark, save for the +fire showing through the damper of the stove. Trenholme stopped in it +just one moment to listen; then, unwilling to encourage hesitation in +himself, went through the next door. His hand was outstretched to take +the lamp, his purpose was clearly defined--to go to the far corner and +examine the coffin-lid. Hand and thought arrested, he stopped on the +threshold, for the lid was thrown off the coffin, and beside it stood a +figure. + +The lamp, which did not throw very much light across the comparatively +large empty room, was so placed that what light there was came directly +in Trenholme's eyes. Afterwards he remembered this, and wondered whether +all that he thought he saw had, in fact, been clearly seen; but at the +moment he thought nothing of the inadequacy of light or of the glare in +his eyes; he only knew that there, in the far corner beside the empty +coffin, stood a white figure--very tall to his vision, very lank, with +white drapery that clothed it round the head like a cowl and spread upon +the floor around its feet. But all that was not what arrested his +attention and chilled his strong courage, it was the eyes of the figure, +which were clearly to be seen--large, frightened, fierce eyes, that met +his own with a courage and terror in them which seemed to quell his own +courage and impart terror to him. Above them he saw the form of a pallid +brow clearly moulded. He did not remember the rest of the face--perhaps +the white clothes wrapped it around. While the eyes struck him with awe, +he had a curious idea that the thing had been interrupted in arranging +its own winding sheet, and was waiting until he retired again to finish +its toilet. This was merely a grotesque side-current of thought. He was +held and awed by the surprise of the face, for those eyes seemed to him +to belong to no earthly part of the old man who, he had been told, lay +there dead. Drawn by death or exhaustion as the face around them looked, +the eyes themselves appeared unearthly in their large brightness. + +He never knew whether his next action was urged more by fear, or by the +strong sense of justice that had first prompted him to call back the +carter as the proper person to deal with the contents of the coffin. +Whatever the motive, it acted quickly. He drew back; closed the door; +locked it on the side of his own room; and set out again to bring back +the man. This time he should hear and should return. Trenholme did not +spare his voice, and the wide lonely land resounded to his shout. And +this time he was not too proud to run, but went at full speed and +shouted too. + +Saul undoubtedly saw and heard him, for he faced about and looked. +Perhaps something in the very way in which Trenholme ran suggested why +he ran. Instead of responding to the command to return, he himself +began to run away and madly to goad his oxen. There are those who +suppose oxen yoked to a cart cannot run, but on occasion they can plunge +into a wild heavy gallop that man is powerless to curb. The great +strength latent in these animals was apparent now, for, after their long +day's draught, they seemed to become imbued with their driver's panic, +and changed from walking to dashing madly down the road. It was a long +straight incline of three miles from the station to the settlement +called Turrifs. Saul, unable to keep up with the cattle, flung himself +upon the cart, and, with great rattling, was borne swiftly away from his +pursuer. Young Trenholme stopped when he had run a mile. So far he had +gone, determined that, if the man would not stop for his commands, he +should be collared and dragged back by main force to face the thing +which he had brought, but by degrees even the angry young man perceived +the futility of chasing mad cattle. He drew up panting, and, turning, +walked back once more. He did not walk slowly; he was in no frame to +loiter and his run had brought such a flush of heat upon him that it +would have been madness to linger in the bitter cold. At the same time, +while his legs moved rapidly, his mind certainly hesitated--in fact, it +almost halted, unable to foresee in the least what its next opinion or +decision would be. He was not a man to pause in order to make up his +mind. He had a strong feeling of responsibility towards his little +station and its inexplicable tenant, therefore he hurried back against +his will. His only consolation in this backward walk was the key of the +door he had locked, which in haste he had taken out and still held in +his hand. Without attempting to decide whether the thing he had seen was +of common clay or of some lighter substance, he still did not lend his +mind with sufficient readiness to ghostly theory to imagine that his +unwelcome guest could pass through locked doors. + +Nor did the ghost, if ghost it was, pass through unopened doors. The +flaw in Trenholme's comfortable theory was that he had forgotten that +the large double door, which opened from the baggage room to the railway +track, was barred on the inside. When he got back to his place he found +this door ajar, and neither in his own room, nor in the baggage room, +nor in the coffin, was there sign of human presence, living or dead. + +All the world about lay in the clear white twilight. The blueberry +flats, the bramble-holts, were red. The clouded sky was white, except +for that metallic blue tinge in the west, through which, in some thin +places, a pale glow of yellower light was now visible, the last rays of +the day that had set. It was this world on which the young Englishman +looked as, amazed and somewhat affrighted, he walked round the building, +searching on all sides for the creature that could hardly yet, had it +run away in such a level land, be wholly out of sight. + +He went indoors again to make sure that nothing was there, and this time +he made a discovery--his tea was gone from his cup. He gave a shudder of +disgust, and, leaving his food untouched, put on coat and cap, and went +out shutting his door behind him. His spirits sank. It seemed to him +that, had it been midnight instead of this blank, even daylight, had his +unearthly-looking visitant acted in more unearthly fashion, the +circumstances would have had less weird force to impress his mind. + +We can, after all, only form conjectures regarding inexplicable +incidents from the successive impressions that have been made upon us. +This man was not at all given to love of romance or superstition, yet +the easy explanation that some man, for purpose of trick or crime, had +hidden in the box, did not seem to him to fit the circumstances. He +could not make himself believe that the eyes he had seen belonged to a +living man; on the other hand, he found it impossible to conceive of a +tea-drinking ghost. + +About a quarter of a mile away there was a long grove of birch trees, +the projecting spur of a second growth of forest that covered the +distant rising ground. Towards this Trenholme strode, for it was the +only covert near in which a human being could travel unseen. It was more +by the impulse of energy, however, than by reasonable hope that he came +there, for by the time he had reached the edge of the trees, it was +beginning to grow dark, even in the open plain. + +No one who has not seen birch trees in their undisturbed native haunts +can know how purely white, unmarred by stain or tear, their trunks can +be. Trenholme looked in among them. They grew thickly. White--white--it +seemed in the gathering gloom that each was whiter than the other; and +Trenholme, remembering that his only knowledge of the figure he sought +was that it was wrapped in white, recognised the uselessness, the +absurdity even, of hoping to find it here, of all places. + +Then he went back to the road and started for Turrifs Settlement. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The settlement called "Turrifs" was not a village; it was only a +locality, in which there were a good many houses within the radius of a +few square miles. + +When Alec Trenholme started off the third time to reproach the recreant +driver of the ox-cart, he had no intention of again dealing with him +directly. He bent his steps to the largest house in the neighbourhood, +the house of the family called Turrifs; whose present head, being the +second of his generation on the same farm, held a position of loosely +acknowledged pre-eminence. Turrif was a Frenchman, who had had one +Scotch forefather through whom his name had come. This, indeed, was the +case with many of his neighbours. + +Trenholme had had various negotiations with this Turrif and his +neighbours, but he had only once been to the house he was now seeking +and in the darkness, which had fallen completely during his three-mile +walk, he was a little puzzled to find it quickly. Its wooden and +weather-greyed walls glimmered but faintly in the night; it was only by +following the line of log fences through the flat treeless fields that +he found himself at last full in the feeble rays of the candle-light +that peeped from its largest window. Trenholme knocked. + +Turrif himself opened the door. He was a man of middle age, thick-set +but thin, with that curious grey shade on a healthy skin that so often +pertains to Frenchmen. For a moment his shrewd but mild countenance +peered into the darkness; then, holding wide the door and making welcome +motion with his hand, he bade Trenholme enter. + +Trenholme could not speak French, but he knew that Turrif could +understand enough English to comprehend his errand if he told it slowly +and distinctly. Slowly and distinctly, therefore, he recounted all that +had befallen him since Saul arrived at the station; but such telling of +such a story could not be without some embarrassment, caused by the +growing perception, on the part of both men, of its extraordinary +nature. + +"Eh--h!" said the Frenchman during the telling. It was a prolonged +syllable, denoting meditative astonishment, and it brought another +listener, for the wife came and stood by her husband, who interpreted +the story to her, and shortly a girl of thirteen also drew near and +stood listening to her father's interpretation. Trenholme began to +wonder whether the elder listeners were placing any confidence in his +word; but the doubt was probably in his mind only, for an honest man +does not estimate the subtle force of his own honesty. + +Turrif and his wife listened to all that was said, and looked at each +other, and looked at him, and asked him a good many questions. They were +neither of them hasty, but, as the woman's manner was the more +vivacious, so her questions, when translated, showed a somewhat quicker +wit. When all was said, like wise people, they pronounced no sentence, +either upon Trenholme's actions or upon those of the creature that had +inhabited the coffin; but they remarked that if the carter had committed +no evil he would not have run away. They said that they had some +knowledge of this man, whom they called "Monsieur Saul," and that he was +a fellow of little worth. They agreed that Turrif should go with +Trenholme, as requested, to bring the man to book. + +On crossing the threshold of the house Trenholme had come at once into a +large, long room, which composed the whole lower flat of the dwelling, +as appeared from the windows on both sides and from the fact that the +staircase went up from one end of it. It was a comfortable, well-warmed +room, containing evidences of all the various industries of the family, +from the harness that hung on the wall and the basket of carded wool by +the spinning-wheel, to the bucket of cow's mash that stood warming by +the stove at the foot of the baby's cradle. At the far end a large +table, that held the candle, had a meal spread upon it, and also some +open dog's-eared primers, at which small children were spelling audibly. + +When the conference, which had taken place near the door, was over, the +wife went back to her children and her lighted table, and Trenholme made +as if to open the door, supposing that Turrif would walk away with him. + +"Eh--_non,"_ said the older man, with a kindly smile. _"Pas encore,"_ +and taking Trenholme by the arm, he pushed him gently towards the table. +"I weel get out my 'orse," said he, in slow, broken English. "You have +had enough walking to-day, and I have had enough work. _A +present"_--with a gesture toward the table. + +He made Trenholme sit down at the table. There was a very large pan of +thick sour milk on it, and a loaf of grey bread. Bits of this bread were +set round the edge of the table, near the children, who munched at them. + +Turrif gave Trenholme a bit of bread, cutting into the loaf as men only +do in whose lives bread is not scarce. With a large spoon he took a +quantity of the thick rich cream from the top of the milk and put a +saucer of it before the visitor. Trenholme ate it with his bread, and +found it not as sour as he expected, and on the whole very good. Turrif, +eating bread as he went, carried the harness out of the house. + +As there was no one left for him to talk to, Trenholme grew more +observant. He remarked the sweetness and sense in the face of the +house-mother as she bestowed their suppers upon the children. She was +still comparatively young, but there was no beauty of youth about her, +only the appearance of strength that is produced by toil and endurance +before these two have worn the strength away. But, in spite of this look +of strength, the face was not hard--no, nor sad; and there was a certain +latent poetry, too, about the gesture and look with which she gave food +to the little ones, as if the giving and receiving were a free thing, +and not the mere necessity of life. Her manner of giving them supper was +to push the large pan of curded milk close to the edge of the table, +where the little ones were clustered, and let them, four of them at +once, lap out of the side of it with their little spoons. At the same +time she pushed the creasy yellow cover of cream to the farther side, +with a watchful glance at Trenholme's saucer, evidently meaning that it +was kept for him. She and the elder boy and girl waited to sup till the +little ones had finished. + +Trenholme endeavoured to say that he should not want any more cream, but +she did not understand his words. He would have felt more concerned at +the partiality shown him if the youngsters had looked more in need of +cream; but they were, in truth, so round-faced and chubby, and so +evidently more pleased to stare at him with their big, black eyes than +grieved to lose the richest part of their milk, that he felt distress +would have been thrown way. All four little ones wore round knitted +caps, and their little heads, at uneven heights, their serious eyes +rolling upon him, and their greedy little mouths supping in the milk the +while, formed such an odd picture round the white disk of the milk-pan +that Trenholme could not help laughing. The greedy little feeders, +without dropping their spoons, looked to their mother to see whether +they ought to be frightened or not at such conduct on the stranger's +part, but seeing her smile, they concluded that they were safe. + +Upon Trenholme's making further overtures of friendship, one or two of +them began to smile: the smile was infectious, it spread to all four, +and they began to laugh, and laughed in baby fashion quite immoderately. +Their mother considered this a sign that they had had enough, and took +their spoons from them. As they scattered from the table Trenholme +perceived that, though their heads were covered, their feet were not. +Their whole costume consisted of a short blue cotton nightgown and the +little knitted cap. + +When Turrif came in to say that the horse was ready, Trenholme made an +effort to present his thanks in saying good-bye to the mistress of the +house, but she did not seem to expect or take much notice of these +manners. As he went out of the door he looked back to see her bending +over the baby in the cradle, and he noticed for the first time that +above the cradle there was a little shrine fastened to the wall. It was +decked with a crucifix and paper flowers; above was a coloured picture +of the Virgin. + +Trenholme, whose nerves were perhaps more susceptible than usual by +reason of the creature set at large by the opening of the coffin, +wondered that Turrif should leave his wife and children alone so +willingly, without any effort to bar the house and without objection on +their part. He knew there was no other house within half a mile, and the +darkness that lay on the flat land appeared to give room for a thousand +dangers. + +He expressed this surprise to Turrif, who replied placidly that the good +saints took care of women and children--a reply which probably did not +go to prove the man's piety so much as the habitual peace of the +neighbourhood. + +The vehicle to which Turrif had harnessed his pony was a small hay +cart--that is to say, a cart consisting of a platform on two wheels, and +a slight paling along each side intended to give some support to its +contents. It was much more lightly made than Saul's ox-cart. The wheels +went over the frozen ruts at a good pace, and the inmates were badly +jolted. Trenholme would rather have walked, but he had already observed +that the Canadian rustic never walked if he could possibly avoid it, and +he supposed there must be some reason for this in the nature of the +country. The jolting made talking disagreeable; indeed, when he +attempted conversation he found his words reminded him forcibly of times +when, in the nursery of his childhood, he had noticed the cries of baby +companions gradually grow less by reason of the rapid vibrations of the +nurse's knee. He kept silence therefore, and wondered whether Turrif or +the pony was guiding, so carelessly did they go forth into the darkness, +turning corners and avoiding ghostly fences with slovenly ease. + +It soon appeared that Turrif knew no more than Trenholme where to find +Saul; his only method of seeking was to inquire at each house. It was +not, however, necessary to go into each house; the cart was only brought +sufficiently near upon the road for a lusty shout to reach the family +inside. The first house Trenholme hardly saw in the darkness; at one or +two others he had a good view of the interior through an open door or +window. From each door men and boys, sometimes women and children, +sallied forth eagerly into the cold night to see what was wanted, and to +each inquiry the phlegmatic Turrif repeated Trenholme's tale. Trenholme +would have given a good deal to be able fully to understand what was +said. There was much conversation. From each house one or two men joined +them, and in one case, from a squalid-looking doorway, a loud-speaking +and wilful girl came out and insisted on getting into the cart. She +talked to the men and shrieked loudly when any object, such as a barn or +a tree, loomed dimly at the side of the road. Two of the men brought a +lantern and walked behind. When they came to the house whose roof was +found to cover Saul, a party of eight entered to hear and pronounce upon +his explanation. Certainly, if Trenholme had had the management of the +business, he would not have proceeded in this fashion, but he had no +choice. + +The carter had been drinking whisky--not much as yet, but enough to give +him a greater command of words than he ordinarily possessed. When he saw +Trenholme among the band who were inquiring for him, he manifested +distinct signs of terror, but not at his visitors; his ghastly glances +were at door and window, and he drew nearer to the company for +protection. It was plainly what they had to tell, not what they had to +demand, that excited him to trembling; the assembled neighbourhood +seemed to strike him in the light of a safeguard. When, however, he +found the incomers were inclined to accuse him of trick or knavery, he +spoke out bravely enough. + +Old Cameron had died--they knew old Cameron? + +Yes, the men assented to this knowledge. + +And after he had been dead two days and one night, Mr. Bates--they knew +Mr. Bates?-- + +Assent again. + +--Had put him in the coffin with his own hands and nailed down the lid. +He was quite dead--perfectly dead. + +On hearing this the bold girl who had come with them shrieked again, and +two of the younger men took her aside, and, holding her head over a +bucket in the corner poured water on it, a process which silenced her. + +"And," said Turrif, quietly speaking in French, "what then?" + +"What then?" said Saul; "Then to-day I brought him in the cart." + +"And buried him on the road, because he was heavy and useless, and let +some friend of yours play with the box?" continued Turrif, with an +insinuating smile. + +Saul swore loudly that this was not the case, at which the men shrugged +their shoulders and looked at Trenholme. + +To him the scene and the circumstances were very curious. The house into +which they had come was much smaller than Turrif's. The room was a +dismal one, with no sign of woman or child about it. Its atmosphere was +thick with the smoke of tobacco and the fumes of hot whisky, in which +Saul and his host had been indulging. A soft, homemade candle, guttering +on the table, shed a yellow smoky light upon the faces of the bearded +men who stood around it. Saul, perhaps from an awkward feeling of +trembling in his long legs, had resumed his seat, his little eyes more +beady, his little round cheeks more ruddy, than ever, his whiskers now +entirely disregarded in the importance of his self-vindication. + +Too proud for asseveration, Trenholme had not much more to say. He +stated briefly that he could not be responsible for the contents of a +box when the contents had run away, nor for any harm that the runaway +might do to the neighbourhood, adding that the man who had consigned the +box to his care must now come and take it away. + +He spoke with a fine edge of authority in his voice, as a man speaks who +feels himself superior to his circumstances and companions. He did not +look at the men as he spoke, for he was not yet sure whether they gave +him the credence for which he would not sue, and he did not care to see +if they derided him. + +"I sink," said Turriff, speaking slowly in English now,--"I sink we +cannot make that mee-racle be done." + +"What miracle?" asked Trenholme. + +Those of the men who understood any English laughed. + +"Se miracle to make dis genteel-man, M. Saul, fetch se box." + +Trenholme then saw that Saul's shudderings had come, upon him again at +the mere suggestion. + +"What am I to do, then?" he asked. + +At this the men had a good deal of talk, and Turrif interpreted the +decision. + +"We sink it is for M. Bates to say what shall be done wit se box. We +sink we take se liberte to say to sis man--'Stay here till some one go +to-morrow and fetch M. Bates.'" + +This struck Trenholme as just, and any objection he felt to spending the +night under the same roof with the mysterious coffin did not seem worth +remark. + +As for Saul, he professed himself satisfied with the arrangement. He was +only too glad to have some one brought who would share his +responsibility and attest, in part at least, his tale. + +"Well," said Trenholme, "I'll go then." + +He felt for the key of the station in his pocket, and would have thanked +the men and bid them "good evening," had they not, rather clamorously, +deprecated his intention. Living, as they did, far from all organised +justice, there was in them a rough sense of responsibility for each +other which is not found in townsmen. + +Trenholme shortly made out that they had decided that two of them should +help him to guard the station that night, and were only disputing as to +who should be allotted for the purpose. + +"It isn't at all necessary," said Trenholme. + +"We sink," said Turrif, with his deliberate smile, "it will be best; for +if you have not been wandering in your mind, some one else's body has +been wandering." + +Trenholme went back to his station in the not unpleasant company of two +sturdy farmers, one young and vivacious, the other old and slow. They +found the place just as he had left it. The coffin was empty, save for +the sweet-scented cushion of roughly covered pine tassels on which the +body of the gaunt old Cameron had been laid to rest. + +The three men sat by the stove in the other room. The smoke from their +pipes dimmed the light of the lamp. The quiet sounds of their talk and +movements never entirely took from them the consciousness of the large +dark silence that lay without. No footfall broke it. When they heard the +distant rush of the night train, they all three went out to see its +great yellow eye come nearer and nearer. + +Trenholme had one or two packages to put in the van. He and his +companions exchanged greetings with the men of the train. + +Just as he was handing in his last package, a gentlemanly voice accosted +him. + +"Station-master!" said a grey-haired, military-looking traveller, +"Station-master! Is there any way of getting milk here?" + +A lady stood behind the gentleman. They were both on the platform at the +front of a passenger car. + +"It's for a child, you know," explained the gentleman. + +Trenholme remembered his untouched tea, and confessed to the possession +of a little milk. + +"Oh, hasten, hasten!" cried the lady, "for the guard says the train will +move on in a moment." + +As Trenholme knew that the little French conductor thus grandly quoted +did not know when the train would start, and as in his experience the +train, whatever else it did, never hastened, he did not move with the +sudden agility that was desired. Before he turned he heard a +loud-whispered aside from the lady: "Tell him we'll pay him +double--treble, for it; I have heard they are avaricious." + +When Trenholme had started the train he jumped upon it with the milk. He +found himself in a long car. The double seats on either side were filled +with sleepy people. There was a passage down the middle, and the lamps +above shone dimly through dirty glasses. Trenholme could not immediately +see any one like the man who had spoken to him outside, but he did spy +out a baby, and, jug in hand, he went and stood a moment near it. + +The lady who held the baby sat upright, with her head leaning against +the side of the car. She was dozing, and the baby was also asleep. It +was a rosy, healthy child, about a year old. The lady's handsome face +suggested she was about seven-and-twenty. Among all the shawl-wrapped +heaps of restless humanity around them, this pair looked very lovely +together. The dusty lamplight fell upon them. They seemed to Trenholme +like a beautiful picture of mother and child, such as one sometimes +comes upon among the evil surroundings of old frames and hideous prints. + +Said Trenholme aloud: "I don't know who asked me for the milk." + +The lady stirred and looked at him indifferently. She seemed very +beautiful. Men see with different eyes in these matters, but in +Trenholme's eyes this lady was faultless, and her face and air touched +some answering mood of reverence in his heart. It rarely happens, +however, that we can linger gazing at the faces which possess for us the +most beauty. The train was getting up speed, and Trenholme, just then +catching sight of the couple who had asked for the milk, had no choice +but to pass down the car and pour it into the jar they held. + +The gentleman put his hand in his pocket. "Oh no," said Trenholme, and +went out. But the more lively lady reopened the door behind him, and +threw a coin on the ground as he was descending. + +By the sound it had made Trenholme found it, and saw by the light of the +passing car that it was an English shilling. When the train was gone he +stood a minute where it had carried him, some hundred feet from the +station, and watched it going on into the darkness. + +Afterwards, when his companions had composed themselves to sleep, and he +lay sleepless, listening to all that could be heard in the silent night, +curiously enough it was not upon the exciting circumstances of the early +evening that he mused chiefly, but upon the people he had seen in the +night train. + +A seemingly little thing has sometimes the power to change those +currents that set one way and another within a man, making him satisfied +or dissatisfied with this or that. By chance, as it seems, a song is +sung, a touch is given, a sight revealed, and man, like a harp hung to +the winds, is played upon, and the music is not that which he devises. +So it was that Trenholme's encounter in the dusty car with the beautiful +woman who had looked upon him so indifferently had struck a chord which +was like a plaintive sigh for some better purpose in life than he was +beating out of this rough existence. It was not a desire for greater +pleasure that her beauty had aroused in him, but a desire for nobler +action--such was the power of her face. + +The night passed on; no footfall broke the silence. The passing train +was the only episode of his vigil. + +In the morning when Trenholme looked out, the land was covered deep in +snow. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +When the night train left Turrifs Station it thundered on into the +darkness slowly enough, but, what with bumping over its rough rails and +rattling its big cars, it seemed anxious to deceive its passengers into +the idea that it was going at great speed. A good number of its cars +were long vans for the carriage of freight; behind these came two for +the carriage of passengers. These were both labelled "First Class." One +was devoted to a few men, who were smoking; the other was the one from +which Trenholme had descended. Its seats, upholstered in red velvet, +were dusty from the smoke and dirt of the way; its atmosphere, heated by +a stove at one end, was dry and oppressive. It would have been +impossible, looking at the motley company lounging in the lamplight, to +have told their relations one to another; but it was evident that an +uncertain number of young people, placed near the lady who held the +baby, were of the same party; they slept in twos and threes, leaning on +one another's shoulders and covered by the same wraps. It was to seats +left vacant near this group that the man and his wife who had procured +the milk returned. The man, who was past middle life, betook himself to +his seat wearily, and pulled his cap over his eyes without speaking. His +wife deposited the mug of milk in a basket, speaking in low but brisk +tones to the lady who held the baby. + +"There, Sophia; I've had to pay a shilling for a cupful, but I've got +some milk." + +"I should have thought you would have been surer to get good milk at a +larger station, mamma." She did not turn as she spoke, perhaps for fear +of waking the sleeping baby. + +The other, who was the infant's mother, was rapidly tying a shawl round +her head and shoulders. She was a little stout woman, who in middle age +had retained her brightness of eye and complexion. Her features were +regular, and her little nose had enough suggestion of the eagle's beak +in its form to preserve her countenance from insignificance. + +"Oh, my dear," she returned, "as to the milk--the young man looked quite +clean, I assure you; and then such a large country as the cows have to +roam in!" + +Having delivered herself of this energetic whisper, she subsided below +the level of the seat back, leaving Sophia to sit and wonder in a drowsy +muse whether the mother supposed that the value of a cow's milk would be +increased if, like Io, she could prance across a continent. + +Sophia Rexford sat upright, with the large baby in her arms and a bigger +child leaning on her shoulder. Both children were more or less restless; +but their sister was not restless, she sat quite still. The attitude of +her tall figure had the composure and strength in it which do not belong +to first youth. Hers was a fine face; it might even be called beautiful; +but no one now would call it pretty--the skin was too colourless, the +expression too earnest. + +Her eyes took on the look that tells of inward, rather than outward, +vision. Her thoughts were such as she would not have told to any one, +but not because of evil in them. + +This was the lady to whom Robert Trenholme, the master of the college at +Chellaston, had written his letter; and she was thinking of that letter +now, and of him, pondering much that, by some phantasy of dreams, she +should have been suddenly reminded of him by the voice of the man who +had passed through the car with the milk. + +Her mind flitted lightly to the past; to a season she had once spent in +a fashionable part of London, and to her acquaintance with the young +curate, who was receiving some patronage from the family with whom she +was visiting. She had been a beauty then; every one danced to the tune +she piped, and this curate--a mere fledgeling--had danced also. That was +nothing. No, it was nothing that he had, for a time, followed lovesick +in her train--she never doubted that he had had that sickness, although +he had not spoken of it--all that had been notable in the acquaintance +was that she, who at that time had played with the higher aims and +impulses of life, had thought, in her youthful arrogance, that she +discerned in this man something higher and finer than she saw in other +men. She had been pleased to make something of a friend of him, +condescending to advise and encourage him, pronouncing upon his desire +to seek a wider field in a new country, and calling it good. Later, when +he was gone, and life for her had grown more quiet for lack of +circumstances to feed excitement, she had wondered sometimes if this man +had recovered as perfectly from that love-sickness as others had done. +That was all--absolutely all. Her life had lately come again into +indirect relations with him through circumstances over which neither he +nor she had had any control; and now, when she was about to see him, he +had taken upon him to write and pick up the thread of personal +friendship again and remind her of the past. + +In what mood had he written this reminder? Sophia Rexford would surely +not have been a woman of the world if she had not asked herself this +question. Did he think that on seeing her again he would care for her as +before? Did he imagine that intervening years, which had brought +misfortune to her family, would bring her more within his grasp? Or was +his intention in writing still less pleasing to her than this? Had he +written, speaking so guardedly of past friendship, with the desire to +ward off any hope she might cherish that he had remained unmarried for +her sake? Sophia's lips did not curl in scorn over this last suggestion, +because she was holding her little court of inquiry in a mental region +quite apart from her emotions. + +This woman's character was, however, revealed in this, that she passed +easily from her queries as to what the man in question did, or would be +likely to, think of her. A matter of real, possibly of paramount, +interest to her was to wonder whether his life had really expanded into +the flower of which she had thought the bud gave promise. She tried to +look back and estimate the truth of her youthful instinct, which had +told her he was a man above other men. And if that had been so, was he +less or more now than he had been then? Had he been a benefit to the new +country to which he had come? Had the move from the Old World to +this--the decision in which she had rashly aided with youthful +advice--been a good or a bad thing for him and for the people to whom he +had come? + +From this she fell a-thinking upon her own life as, in the light of +Trenholme's letter, the contrast of her present womanly self with the +bright, audacious girl of that past time was set strongly before her. It +is probably as rare for any one really to wish to be the self of any +former time--to wish to be younger--as it is really to wish to be any +one else. Sophia certainly did not dream of wishing to be younger. We +are seldom just to ourselves--either past or present: Sophia had a fine +scorn for what she remembered herself to have been; she had greater +respect for her present self, because there was less of outward show, +and more of reality. + +It might have been a quarter of an hour, it might have been more, since +the train had last started, but now it stopped rather suddenly. Sophia's +father murmured sleepily against the proximity of the stations. He was +reclining in the seat just behind her. + +Sophia looked out of her window. She saw no light. By-and-by some men +came up the side of the track with lanterns. She saw by the light they +held that they were officials of the train, and that the bank on which +they walked looked perfectly wild and untrodden. She turned her head +toward her father. + +"We are not at any station," she remarked. + +"Ay!" He got up with cumbrous haste, as a horse might rise. He, too, +looked out of the window, then round at his women and children, and clad +himself in an immense coat. + +"I'll just go out," he whispered, "and see how things are. If there's +anything wrong I'll let you know." + +He intended his whisper to be something akin to silence; he intended to +exercise the utmost consideration for those around him; but his long +remark was of the piercing quality that often appertains to whispers, +and, as he turned his back, two of the children woke, and a young girl +in the seat in front of Sophia sat up, her grey eyes dilated with alarm. + +"Sophia," she said, with a low sob, "oh, Sophia, is there something +_wrong_?" + +"Be quiet!" said Sophia, tartly. + +The snoring mother now shut her mouth with a snap. In a twinkling she +was up and lively. + +"Has your father got on his overcoat, Sophia? Is there danger?" She +darted from one side of the carriage to another, rubbing the moisture +off each window with a bit of her shawl and speaking with rapidity. + +Then she ran out of the car. Two of the children followed her. The +others, reassured by Sophia's stillness, huddled together at the +windows, shivering in the draught of cold air that came from the open +door. + +After some minutes Sophia's father came in again, leading his wife and +children with an old-world gallantry that was apparent even in these +unsatisfactory circumstances. He had a slow impressive way of speaking +that made even his unimportant words appear important. In the present +case, as soon as he began to speak most of the people in the car came +near to hear. + +Some obstruction, he said, had fallen across the line. It was not much; +the men would soon remove it. An Indian woman, who lived near, had +heroically lit a fire, and thus stopped the train in time. There was no +other train due upon the road for many hours. There was no danger. There +_might_ have been a bad accident, but they had been providentially +preserved. + +His utterance greatly impressed the bystanders, for he was an +important-looking gentleman; but long before he had finished speaking, +the bright-eyed little mother had set her children into their various +seats again, pulled their jackets close in front, rolled up their feet, +patted their caps down on their heads, and, in fact, by a series of +pokes and pulls, composed her family to sleep, or, at least, started +them as far on the way to sleep as a family can be sent by such a +method. + +Quiet settled on the car again. Soon the train went on. Sophia Rexford, +looking out, could dimly discern the black outline of wood and river. At +length the window grew thicker and opaque. There was no sound of rain or +hail, and yet something from without muffled the glass. Sophia slept +again. + +When the dawn of day at length stole upon them she found that snow had +been upon the glass and had melted. Snow lay thick on the ledges of the +windows outside. Yet in that part of the country in which they now were +there was none on the ground. They seemed to have run a race with a +snowstorm in the night, and to have gained it for the nonce. But the +sight struck her sadly. The winter, which she dreaded, was evidently on +their track. + +It was in the first grey hour of dawn that the train steamed into the +station, which was the junction for Quebec, and passengers bound for the +English settlements south of that city were obliged to change. + +For a few minutes before the train stopped the Rexford family had been +booted and spurred, so to speak, ready for the transfer. Each young +person was warmly buttoned up and tied into a warlike-looking muffler. +Each had several packages in charge. A youth came in from the +smoking-car and attached himself to them. When the train had come to a +standstill the little French conductor was energetic in helping them to +descend. + +The family was very large, and, moreover, it was lively; its members +were as hard to count as chickens of a brood. Sophia, holding the +youngest child and the tickets, endeavoured to explain their number to +the conductor. + +"There are three children that go free," she said. "Then two little boys +at half fare--that makes one ticket. Myself and three young ladies--make +five tickets; my brother and father and mother--eight." + +The sharp Frenchman looked dubious. "Three children free; two at half +fare," he repeated. He was trying to see them all as he spoke. + +Sophia repeated her count with terse severity. + +"There was not another young lady?" + +"Certainly not." + +And Sophia was not a woman to be trifled with, so he punched the tickets +and went back into his car. + +Wooden platforms, a station hotel built of wood, innumerable lines of +black rails on which freight trains stood idle, the whole place shut in +by a high wooden fence--this was the prospect which met the eyes of the +English travellers, and seen in the first struggling light of morning, +in the bitter cold of a black frost, it was not a cheerful one. The +Rexford family, however, were not considering the prospect; they were +intent only on finding the warm passenger-car of the train that was to +take them the rest of their journey, and which they had been assured +would be waiting here to receive them. + +This train, however, was not immediately to be seen, and, in the +meantime, the broad platform, which was dusted over with dry frost +crystals, was the scene of varied activities. + +From the baggage-car of the train they had left, a great number of boxes +and bags, labelled "Rexford," were being thrown down in a violent +manner, which greatly distressed some of the girls and their father. + +"Not that way. That is not the way. Don't you know that is not the way +boxes should be handled?" shouted Captain Rexford sternly, and then, +seeing that no one paid the slightest attention to his words, he was +fain to turn away from the cause of his agitation. He took a brisk turn +down the empty end of the platform, and stood there as a man might who +felt that the many irritations of life were growing too much for his +self-control. + +The little boys found occupation because they observed that the white +condensed vapour which came from their mouths with each breath bore +great resemblance to the white steam a slowly moving engine was hissing +forth. They therefore strutted in imitation of the great machine, +emitting large puffs from their little warm mouths, and making the sound +which a groom makes when he plies the curry-comb. The big brother was +assisting in the unloading of a large carriage from an open van in the +rear of the train, and Mrs. Rexford, neat, quick-moving, and excitable, +after watching this operation for a few minutes and issuing several +orders as to how it was to be done, moved off in lively search of the +next train. She ran about, a few steps in each direction, looking at the +various railway lines, and then accosted a tall, thin man who was +standing still, doing nothing. + +"Is the train for the Eastern Townships here? We were told it would be +here waiting to receive us at daybreak. Is it here? Is it ready?" + +Seeing from the man's face, as she had already seen from the empty +tracks, that no such train was in readiness, she ran at one of the +puffing and strutting children whose muffler was loose, and tied it up +again. Then, struck by another thought, she returned to the impassive +man whom she had before addressed. + +"This is really the _actual_ dawn, I suppose?" she asked, with an air of +importance. "I have read that in some countries there is what is called +a 'false dawn' that comes before the real one, you know." + +Compelled now to speak, the man, who was a New Englander, took a small +stick from between his teeth and said: "As far as I know, marm, this +morning is genuine." + +"Oh really"--with abatement of interest in her tone--"I thought perhaps +there might be that sort of thing in Canada, you know--we certainly read +of Northern Lights. Very strange that our train isn't here!" + +The Yankee took the trouble to reply again, hardly moving a muscle of +his face. "Keep a good heart, marm; it may come along yet, a-ridin' on +these same Northern Lights." + +"Riding on--? I beg your pardon--on what, did you say?" she asked +eagerly. + +At this the grey-eyed girl who had been frightened in the night plucked +her by the sleeve and pulled her away. "Don't you see he's making fun of +you, mamma?" + +Besides the grey-eyed girl, who wore short frocks, there were two other +girls in the first bloom of young-womanhood. One of these, having +overheard the conversation, ran and told the other. + +"Just because we happened to read of such a thing in that book of +Asiatic travel! Isn't it absurd? And there's papa fuming at the other +end of the station." + +Both girls giggled. + +"I know _quite_ well that people will think us all crazy," urged the +first speaker. Then they laughed again, not unhappily. + +"There's not a doubt of it," gasped the other. + +These two girls were very much alike, but one wore a red cloak and the +other a blue one. In spite of the fact that they were somewhat bloused +and a little grimy, and their pretty little noses were now nipped red by +the icy morning, they looked attractive as they stood, pressing their +handkerchiefs to their mouths and bending with laughter. The extent of +their mirth was proportioned to their youth and excitement, not to the +circumstances which called it forth. + +The train they had left now moved off. Most of the other passengers who +had alighted with them had taken themselves away in various directions, +as travellers are apt to do, without any one else noticing exactly what +had become of them. + +Sophia, with the child in her arms, made her way to a mean waiting-room, +and thither the children followed her. The mother, having at last +ascertained the train would be ready in the course of time, soon came in +also, and the father and brother, hearing it would not be ready for at +least a quarter of an hour, went away to see the town. + +There was a stove burning hotly in the small waiting-room. The only +other furniture was a bench all round the wall. The family, that had +entered somewhat tumultuously, almost filled it. There was only one +other traveller there, a big girl with a shawl over her head and a +bundle under her arm. When Sophia had come into the room alone with the +baby, she had asked the girl one or two questions, and been answered +civilly enough; but when the rest of the family followed, the girl +relapsed into silence, and, after regarding them for a little while, she +edged her way out of the room. + +Mrs. Rexford, who in the excitement of change and bustle was always +subject to being struck with ideas which would not have occurred to her +mind at other times, suddenly remembered now that they were dependent +upon the resources of the new country for domestic service, and that +she had heard that no chance of securing a good servant must be lost, as +they were very rare. Stating her thought hastily to Sophia, and darting +to the narrow door without waiting for a reply, she stretched out her +head with an ebullition of registry-office questions. + +"My good girl!" she cried, "my good girl!" + +The girl came back nearer the door and stood still. + +"Do you happen to know of a girl about your age who can do kitchen +work?" + +"I don't know any one here. I'm travelling." + +"But perhaps you would do for me yourself"--this half aside--"Can you +make a fire, keep pots clean, and scour floors?" + +"Yes." She did not express any interest in her assent. + +"Where are you going? Would you not like to come with me and enter my +service? I happen to be in need of just such a girl as you." + +No answer. + +"She doesn't understand, mamma," whispered the grey-eyed girl in a short +frock, who, having wedged herself beside her mother in the narrow +doorway, was the only one who could see or hear the colloquy. "Speak +slower to the poor thing." + +"Looks very stupid," commented Mrs. Rexford, hastily pulling in her head +and speaking within the room. "But still, one must not lose a chance." +Then with head again outside, she continued, "Do you understand me, my +good girl? What is your name?" + +"Eliza White." + +"That is a very good name"--encouragingly. "Where do you live?" + +"I used to live a good bit over there, in the French country." She +pointed with her arm in a certain direction, but as the points of the +compass had no existence for Mrs. Rexford's newly immigrated +intelligence, and as all parts of Canada, near and remote, seemed very +much in the same place in her nebulous vision of geography, the little +information the girl had given was of no interest to her and she took +little note of it. + +"Did you come from Quebec just now?" + +"Yes," replied the girl, after a moment's pause. + +Then, in answer to further questions, she told a succinct tale. She said +that her father had a farm; that he had died the week before; that she +had no relatives in the place; that, having seen her father buried, she +thought it best to come to an English-speaking locality, and wait there +until she had time to write to her father's brother in Scotland. + +"Sad, sad story! Lonely fate! Brave girl!" said Mrs. Rexford, shaking +her head for a minute inside the waiting-room and rapidly repeating the +tale. + +"Yes, if it's true," said Sophia. But Mrs. Rexford did not hear, as she +had already turned her head out of the door again, and was commending +Eliza White for the course she had taken. + +The grey-eyed Winifred, however, still turned inside to combat +reproachfully Sophia's suspicions. "You would not doubt her word, +Sophia, if you saw how cold and tired she looked." + +Mrs. Rexford seemed to argue concerning the stranger's truthfulness in +very much the same way, for she was saying:-- + +"And now, Eliza, will you be my servant? If you will come with me to +Chellaston I will pay your fare, and I will take care of you until you +hear from your uncle." + +"I do not want to be a servant." The reply was stolidly given. + +"What! do you wish to be idle?" + +"I will work in your house, if you like; but I can pay my own fare in +the cars, and I won't be a servant." + +There was so much sullen determination in her manner that Mrs. Rexford +did not attempt to argue the point. + +"Take her, mamma," whispered Winifred. "How ill she seems! And she must +be awfully lonely in this great country all alone." + +Mrs. Rexford, having turned into the room, was rapidly commenting to +Sophia. "Says she will come, but won't be called a servant, and can pay +her own fare. Very peculiar--but we read, you know, in that New England +book, that that was just the independent way they felt about it. They +can only induce _slaves_ to be servants _there_, I believe." She gave +this cursory view of the condition of affairs in the neighbouring States +in an abstracted voice, and summed up her remarks by speaking out her +decision in a more lively tone. "Well, we must have some one to help +with the work. This girl looks strong, and her spirit in the matter +signifies less." Then, turning to the girl without the door: "I think +you will suit me, Eliza. You can stay with us, at any rate, till you +hear from your uncle. You look strong and clean, and I'm _sure_ you'll +do your best to please me"--this with warning emphasis. "Come in now to +the warmth beside us. We can make room in here." + +The place was so small and the family so large that the last assurance +was not wholly unnecessary. Mrs. Rexford brought Eliza in and set her +near the stove. The girls and children gathered round her somewhat +curiously, but she sat erect without seeming to notice them much, an +expression of impassive, almost hardened, trouble on her pale face. She +was a very tall, strong girl, and when she dropped the shawl back a +little from her head they saw that she had red hair. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +The village of Chellaston was, in itself, insignificant. Its chief +income was derived from summer visitors; its largest building was an +hotel, greatly frequented in summer; and its best houses were owned by +townspeople, who used them only at that season. That which gave +Chellaston a position and name above other places of the same size in +the country was an institution called "The New College," in which boys +up to the age of eighteen were given a higher education than could be +obtained at ordinary schools. The college was a square brick building, +not handsome, but commodious; and in the same enclosure with it were the +head-master's house, and a boarding-house in which the assistant-masters +lived with the pupils. With that love of grand terms which a new country +is apt to evince, the head-master was called "The Principal," and his +assistants "Professors." The New College was understood to have the +future of a university, but its present function was merely that of a +public school. + +Chellaston was prettily situated by a well-wooded hill and a fair +flowing river. The college, with some fields that were cultivated for +its use, was a little apart from most of the houses, placed, both as to +physical and social position, between the commonplace village and the +farms of the undulating land around it; for, by a curious drift of +circumstances, the farms of this district were chiefly worked by English +gentlemen, whose families, in lieu of all other worldly advantage, held +the more stoutly by their family traditions. In doing so they were but +treasuring their only heirloom. And they did not expect to gain from the +near future any new source of pride; for it is not those who, as +convention terms it, are the best born who most easily gather again the +moss of prosperity when that which has been about them for generations +has once been removed. They were, indeed, a set of people who exhibited +more sweetness of nature than thrift. Elegance, even of the simplest +sort, was almost unknown in their homes, and fashion was a word that had +only its remotest echoes there; yet they prided themselves upon adhering +strictly to rules of behaviour which in their mother-country had already +fallen into the grave of outgrown ideas. Their little society was, +indeed, a curious thing, in which the mincing propriety of the Old World +had wed itself right loyally to the stern necessity of the New. How +stern such necessity might be, the Rexford family, who came rolling into +this state of things in their own family carriage, had yet to learn. + +It was to the Principalship of the New College that Robert Trenholme, by +virtue of scholastic honours from Oxford, had attained. Although a young +man for the post, it was admitted by all that he filled it admirably. +The school had increased considerably in the three years of his +management. And if Trenholme adapted himself to the place, the place was +also adapted to him, for by it he held an assured standing in the +country; he could, as the saying is, mix with the best; and he valued +his position. Why should he not value it? He had won it honourably, and +he cherished it merely as the greatest of his earthly goods, which he +believed he held in due subordination to more heavenly benefits. Those +lives are no doubt the most peaceful in which self-interest and duty +coalesce, and Trenholme's life at this period was like a fine cord, +composed of these two strands twisted together with exquisite equality. +His devotion to duty was such as is frequently seen when a man of +sanguine, energetic temperament throws the force of his being into +battle for the right. He had added to his school duties voluntary +service in the small English church of Chellaston, partly because the +congregation found it hard to support a clergyman; partly because he +preferred keeping his schoolboys under the influence of his own sermons, +which were certainly superior to those of such clergymen as were likely +to come there; and partly, if not chiefly, because the activity of his +nature made such serving a delight to him. The small church, like the +school, had been greatly improved since it had come under his hand, and +the disinterestedness of his unpaid ministrations was greatly lauded. He +was a very busy, and a successful, man, much esteemed by all who knew +him. The New College was expected to become a university; Robert +Trenholme hoped for this and expected to remain at its head, but this +hope of his was by the way; he did not think of it often, for he loved +work for its own sake. Even the value he set on his present success was +not often, more actively in his mind than the value he set on the fresh +air he breathed. It was very occasionally that the pride of him came to +the surface, and then chiefly when animated by the memory of the time +when he had been at a disadvantage in worldly things. Such memories came +to him when he prepared to go to the railway station to meet the +Rexfords. He concealed it perfectly, but it gave him certain swellings +of heart to think that Miss Rexford would now gradually see all to which +he had attained. + +When Captain Rexford had decided upon buying a farm at Chellaston, he +had had some correspondence with Principal Trenholme on the subject, +having been put into communication with him by the widow of the relative +at whose house Sophia and Trenholme had first met. This was the whole +extent of the acquaintance. Of Sophia's step-mother and her numerous +children Robert Trenholme knew nothing, save that a second family +existed. Nor did Captain Rexford imagine that his eldest daughter had +any distinct remembrance of a man whom she had so casually known. +Fathers are apt to assume that they know the precise extent of their +daughters' acquaintanceships, for the same reason that most people +assume that what they never heard of does not exist. Yet when Trenholme +actually repaired to the station at the hour at which Captain Rexford +had announced his arrival, it was a fact that many of his leisure +thoughts for a month back had been pointing forward, like so many +guide-posts, to the meeting that was there to take place, and it was +also true that the Rexford family--older and younger--were prepared to +hail him as a friend, simply because their knowledge of him, though +slight, was so much greater than of any other being in the place to +which they were come--and everything in this world goes by comparison. + +Now the main feature of the arrival of the Rexford family in Chellaston +was that they brought their own carriage with them. It was an old, heavy +carriage, for it had come into Captain Rexford's possession in the first +place by inheritance, and it was now a great many years since he had +possessed horses to draw it. From its long and ignominious retreat in an +outhouse it had lately emerged to be varnished and furbished anew, in +order to make the handsomer appearance in the new country. It had been +one of the considerations which had reconciled Mrs. Rexford to +emigration, that on a farm this carriage could be used with little extra +expense. + +Principal Trenholme had come to the station, which was a little way from +the village, in a smart gig of his own. According to Captain Rexford's +instructions, he had sent to the station a pair of horses, to be +harnessed to the aforesaid carriage, which had been carefully brought on +the same train with its owners. He had also sent of his own accord a +comfortable waggon behind the horses, and he straightway urged that the +family should repair in this at once to their new home, and leave the +carriage to be set upon its wheels at leisure. As he gave this advice he +eyed the wheelless coach with a curiosity and disfavour which was almost +apparent through his studious politeness. + +His arguments, however, and Captain Rexford's, who agreed with him, were +of no avail. Mrs. Rexford, partly from sentiment, partly from a certain +pathetic vanity, had set her heart on driving to the new home in the old +carriage. Captain Rexford's eldest son had helped to get the vehicle off +the train, and was now working steadily with one of the station hands to +get it upon its wheels. It was assuredly such a carriage as that bit of +Canadian road had never seen before. The station loiterers, sometimes +helping in its arrangement, sometimes merely looking on, gazed at it +with unwavering attention. Robert Trenholme gazed at it also, and at +last felt obliged to give some more distinct warning of difficulties he +foresaw. + +"We have native horses," he said, with a good-humoured smile that leaped +out of his eyes before it parted his lips; "we have horses, and we have +ponies, and I am afraid that a pair of the one would be as serviceable +in the long run as a pair of the other in drawing it on these roads. +Are you getting out carriage-horses from England, Captain Rexford?" + +The gentleman addressed continued to set the cushions in their places, +but in a minute he went back into the station, where by a stove he found +his wife and Sophia warming themselves, the smallest children, and a pot +of carriage oil. + +"You know, my dears, I never felt quite clear in my own mind that it was +wise of us to bring the carriage." He held his hands to the warmth as he +spoke. "Mr. Trenholme, I find, seems to think it heavy for these roads." + +His wife heard him quite cheerfully. "In weather like this nothing could +be more desirable," said she, "than to have one's own comfortably +cushioned carriage; and besides, I have always told you we owe it to our +children to show the people here that, whatever misfortunes we have had, +we _have_ been people of consequence." She added after a moment in +conclusion: "Harold has brought the best grease for the wheels." + +She had her way therefore, and in course of time the ladies, and as many +of the children as could be crowded into the carriage, thus commenced +the last stage of their journey. The others were driven on by Trenholme. +As for the little boys, "a good run behind," their mother said, was just +what they needed to warm them up. + +They began running behind, but soon ran in front, which rather confused +Mrs. Rexford's ideas of order, but still the carriage lumbered on. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Captain Rexford had no fortune with his second wife; and their children +numbered seven daughters and three sons. It was natural that the +expenses of so large a family should have proved too much for a slender +income in an English town where a certain style of living had been +deemed a necessity. When, further, a mercantile disaster had swept away +the larger part of this income, the anxious parents had felt that there +was nothing left for their children but a choice between degrading +dependence on the bounty of others and emigration. From the new start in +life which the latter course would give they had large hopes. +Accordingly, they gathered together all that they had, and, with a loan +from a richer relative, purchased a house and farm in a locality where +they were told their children would not wholly lack educational +opportunities or society. This move of theirs was heroic, but whether +wise or unwise remained to be proved by the result of indefinite years. +The extent of their wealth was now this new property, an income which, +in proportion to their needs, was a mere pittance, and the debt to the +richer relative. + +The men who came to call on their new neighbour, and congratulate him on +his choice of a farm, did not know how small was the income nor how big +the debt, yet even they shook their heads dubiously as they thought of +their own difficulties, and remarked to each other that such a large +family was certainly a great responsibility. + +"I wonder," said one to another, "if Rexford had an idea in coming here +that he would marry his daughters easily. It's a natural thing, you +know, when one hears of the flower of British youth leaving England for +the Colonies, to imagine that, in a place like this, girls would be at a +premium. I did. When we came out I said to my wife that when our little +girls grew up they might pick and choose for themselves from among a +dozen suitors, but--well, this isn't just the locality for that, is it?" + +Both men laughed a little. They knew that, however difficult it might be +to find the true explanation of the fact, the fact remained that there +were no young men in Chellaston, that boys who grew up there went as +inevitably elsewhere to make their fortunes as they would have done from +an English country town. + +Among the ladies who came to see Mrs. Rexford and count her children, +the feeling concerning her was more nearly allied to kindly +commiseration than she would at all have liked had she known it. They +said that Captain Rexford might succeed if his wife and daughters--Each +would complete the conditional clause in her own way, but it was clear +to the minds of all that the success of the Rexford farm would depend to +a great extent upon the economy and good management practised in the +house. + +Now the Rexfords, man, woman, and child, had come with brave hearts, +intending to work and to economise; yet they found what was actually +required of them different from all that their fancy had pictured; and +their courage, not being obliged to face those dangers to which they had +adjusted it, and being forced to face much to which it was not adjusted, +suffered shock, and took a little time to rally into moderate animation. + +At the end of their weary journey they had found themselves in a large +wooden house, not new by any means, or smart in any of its appointments; +and, as convenience is very much a matter of custom, it appeared to them +inconvenient--a house in which room was set against room without vestige +of lobby or passage-way, and in which there were almost as many doors to +the outside as there were windows. They had bought it and its furniture +as a mere adjunct to a farm which they had chosen with more care, and +when they inspected it for the first time their hearts sank somewhat +within them. Captain Rexford, with impressive sadness, remarked to his +wife that there was a greater lack of varnish and upholstery and of +traces of the turning lathe than he could have supposed possible +in--"_furniture_." But his wife had bustled away before he had quite +finished his speech. Whatever she might feel, she at least expressed no +discouragement. Torture does not draw from a brave woman expressions of +dismay. + +That which gave both Mrs. Rexford and Sophia much perplexity in the +first day or two of the new life was that the girl Eliza seemed to them +to prove wholly incompetent. She moved in a dazed and weary fashion +which was quite inconsistent with the intelligence and capacity +occasionally displayed in her remarks; and had they in the first three +days been able to hear of another servant, Mrs. Rexford would have +abruptly cancelled her agreement with Eliza. At the end of that time, +however, when there came a day on which Mrs. Rexford and Sophia were +both too exhausted by unpacking and housework to take their ordinary +share of responsibility, Eliza suddenly seemed to awake and shake +herself into thought and action. She cleared the house of the litter of +packing-cases, set their contents in order, and showed her knowledge of +the mysteries of the kitchen in a manner which fed the family and sent +them to bed more comfortably than since their arrival. From that day +Eliza became more cheerful; and she not only did her own work, but often +aided others in theirs, and set the household right in all its various +efforts towards becoming a model Canadian home. If the ladies had not +had quite so much to learn, or if the three little children had not been +quite so helpless, Eliza's work would have appeared more effective. As +it was, the days passed on, and no tragedy occurred. + +It was a great relief to Captain and Mrs. Rexford in those days to turn +to Principal Trenholme for society and advice. He was their nearest +neighbour, and had easy opportunity for being as friendly and kind as he +evidently desired to be. Captain Rexford pronounced him a fine fellow +and a perfect gentleman. Captain Rexford had great natural courtesy of +disposition. + +"I suppose, Principal Trenholme," said he blandly, as he entertained his +visitor one day in the one family sitting-room, "I suppose that you are +related to the Trenholmes of----?" + +Trenholme was playing with one of the little ones who stood between his +knees. He did not instantly answer--indeed, Captain Rexford's manner was +so deliberate that it left room for pauses. Sophia, in cloak and fur +bonnet, was standing by the window, ready to take the children for +their airing. Trenholme found time to look up from his tiny playmate and +steal a glance at her handsome profile as she gazed, with thoughtful, +abstracted air, out upon the snow. "Not a very near connection, Captain +Rexford," was his reply; and it was given with that frank smile which +always leaped first to his eyes before it showed itself about his mouth. + +It would have been impossible for a much closer observer than Captain +Rexford to have told on which word of this small sentence the emphasis +had been given, or whether the smile meant that Principal Trenholme +could have proved his relationship had he chosen, or that he laughed at +the notion of there being any relationship at all. Captain Rexford +accordingly interpreted it just as suited his inclination, and mentioned +to another neighbour in the course of a week that his friend, the +Principal of the College, was a distant relative, by a younger branch +probably, of the Trenholmes of--, etc. etc., an item of news of which +the whole town took account sooner or later. + +To Mrs. Rexford Trenholme was chiefly useful as a person of whom she +could ask questions, and she wildly asked his advice on every possible +subject. On account of Captain Rexford's friendly approval, and his +value to Mrs. Rexford as a sort of guide to useful knowledge on the +subject of Canada in general and Chellaston in particular, Robert +Trenholme soon became intimate, in easy Canadian fashion, with the +newcomers; that is, with the heads of the household, with the romping +children and the pretty babies. The young girls were not sufficiently +forward in social arts to speak much to a visitor, and with Sophia he +did not feel at all on a sure footing. + +After this little conversation with Captain Rexford about his relatives, +and when Sophia had received the other children from the hands of Eliza +and repaired with them to the house door, Trenholme also took leave, and +rose to accompany her as far as the gate. + +Sophia shivered a little when she stepped out upon the narrow wooden +gallery in front of the door. + +The Rexford house was not situated in the midst of the farm, but between +the main road that ran out of the village and the river that here lay +for some distance parallel with the road. On the next lot of land stood +an empty house in the centre of a large deserted garden; and on the +other side of the road, about a quarter of a mile off, stood the college +buildings, which were plainly to be seen over flat fields and low log +fences. Beyond the college grounds were woods and pastures, and beyond +again rose Chellaston Mountain. This view was what Sophia and Trenholme +looked upon as they stood on the verandah; and all that they saw--field, +road, roof, tree, and hill--was covered with sparkling snow. It was a +week since the snow came, and Sophia still shivered a little whenever +she looked at it. + +"I am sorry to see you do not look upon this scene as if it rejoiced +your heart," he said. "When you know it better, you will, I hope, love +it as I do. It is a glorious climate, Miss Rexford; it is a glorious +country. The depressions and fears that grow up with one's life in the +Old World fall away from one in this wonderful air, with the stimulus of +a new world and a strong young nation all around. This snow is not cold; +it is warm. In this garden of yours it is just now acting as a blanket +for the germs of flowers that could not live through an English winter, +but will live here, and next summer will astonish you with their +richness. Nor is it cold for _you_; it is dry as dust; you can walk over +it in moccasins, and not be damp: and it has covered away all the decay +of autumn, conserving for you in the air such pure oxygen that it will +be like new life in your veins, causing you to laugh at the frost." + +"I have not your enthusiasm," she replied. Together they led the +unsteady feet of the little ones down the crisp snow path which Harold's +industrious shovel had made. + +Trenholme spoke briefly of the work he was trying to do in his school. +A clergyman has social licence to be serious which is not accorded to +other men. Wherefore he spoke as a clergyman might speak to a friend, +saying, in general terms, how steep is the ascent when, among mundane +affairs, human beings try to tread only where the angels of the higher +life may lead. + +Sophia assented, feeling a little sharp because it seemed to her that he +was taking up the thread of his acquaintance with her just where it had +formerly parted when she had thrown before him the gauntlet of such high +resolves and heavenly aims as young girls can easily talk about when +they know as yet nothing of their fulfilment. Whether or not Sophia knew +more of their fulfilment since then, she had, at least, learned a more +humble reverence for the very thought of such struggles, and she was +quite ready to believe that the man to whom she had once called to come +onward had by this time far outstripped her in the race. She was _ready_ +for this belief; but she had not accepted it, because, as yet confused +and excited by all that was new, she had formed no conclusion whatever +with regard to Trenholme. It had puzzled her somewhat from the outset to +find him such a model of elegance in the matter of clothes and manners. +She had, somehow, fancied that he would have a long beard and wear an +old coat. Instead of that, his usual manner of accosting her reminded +her more of those fashion plates in which one sees tailors' blocks +taking off their hats to one another. She did not think this was to his +disadvantage; she did not, as yet, think distinctly on the matter at +all. She certainly had no time to deliberate during this particular +conversation, for her companion, having only a few minutes to utilise, +was in a talkative humour. Having spoken of his own work, and made the +more general observations on the difficulties of what is commonly called +the "narrow road," in a quiet, honest way, he said something more +personal. + +"I have always felt, Miss Rexford, that it would be a pleasure to me to +see you again, because of the strength and courage which you managed to +infuse into my youthful aspirations; but now that I have seen you, will +you permit me to say that you have been quite unknowingly a help to me +again? A week ago I was half-disheartened of my life because of the +apparent sordidness of its daily duties, and now that I have seen you +giving your life to perform small and unassuming services for others, my +own duties have appeared more sacred. I can't tell you how much I admire +your unselfish devotion to these children. Don't think me rude because I +say it. I often think we are shabby to one another because, in the +strife, we do not frankly say when we are helped by seeing the brave +fight that some one else is making." + +They had stopped by the gate, for he was going one way and she and the +little ones another. Two strong young firs, with snow upon their +shelving branches, formed gateposts. The long broad road was white as +their footpath had been. + +Sophia answered: "There is no virtue in what I do, for, had I the +choice, I certainly should not be their nursemaid." + +"Do you know," he said, "I think when we see life in its reality, +instead of in its seeming, we shall find that the greatest deeds have +been done just because their doers believe that they could not do +otherwise." + +"I don't see that. If circumstances shut us up to doing certain things, +there is no virtue in doing them. There may be a little virtue in not +repining at our fate, but not much." + +He did not answer for a minute, but broke the curl of a little snowdrift +gently with his stick. Because he did not answer or say good-bye, Sophia +tarried for a moment and then looked up at him. + +"Miss Rexford," he replied, "the voice of circumstances says to us just +what we interpret it to say. It is in the _needs must_ of a high nature +that true nobility lies." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +It is upon the anniversary of feasts that a family, if despondent at +all, feels most despondent. So it fell out that at Christmas-time the +homesickness which hitherto had found its antidote in novelty and +surprise now attacked the Rexford household. The girls wept a good deal. +Sophia chid them for it sharply. Captain Rexford carried a solemn face. +The little boys were in worse pickles of mischief than was ordinary. +Even Mrs. Rexford was caught once or twice, in odd corners, hastily +wiping away furtive tears. + +This general despondency seemed to reach a climax one afternoon some +days before the end of the year. Without, the wind was blowing and snow +was descending; inside, the housework dragged monotonously. The only +lively people in the house were the little children. They were playing +quite riotously in an upper room, under the care of the Canadian girl, +Eliza; but their shouts only elicited sighs from Mrs. Rexford's elder +daughters, who were helping her to wash the dinner dishes in the +kitchen. + +These two elder daughters had, since childhood, always been dressed, so +far as convenient, the one in blue, the other in red, and were nicknamed +accordingly. Their mother thought it gave them individuality which they +otherwise lacked. The red frock and the blue were anything but gay just +now, for they were splashed and dusty, and the pretty faces above them +showed a decided disposition to pout and frown, even to shed tears. + +The kitchen was a long, low room. The unpainted wood of floor, walls, +and ceiling was darkened somewhat by time. Two square, four-paned +windows were as yet uncurtained, except that Nature, with the kindness +of a fairy helper, had supplied the lack of deft fingers and veiled the +glass with such devices of the frost as resembled miniature landscapes +of distant alp and nearer minaret. The large, square cooking-stove +smoked a little. Between the stove and the other door stood the table, +which held the dishes at which worked the neat, quick mother and her +rather untidy and idle daughters. + +"Really, Blue and Red!" The words were jerked out to conceal a sigh +which had risen involuntarily. "This is disgraceful." + +Her sharp brown eyes fell on the pile of dishes she had washed, which +the two girls, who were both drying them, failed to diminish as fast as +she increased it. + +"Our cloths are wet," said Blue, looking round the ceiling vaguely, as +if a dry dish-towel might be lying somewhere on a rafter. + +"I declare--" the mother began, tapping her foot. But what she was going +to declare was never known, for just then a knock at the outer door +diverted their attention. + +However commonplace may be the moment after a door is opened, the moment +before the opening is apt to be full of interest, for one can never know +but that some cause of delightful excitement is on the other side. + +It was Blue who opened the door. She did not at first open it very wide, +for she had learned by experience how much icy air could rush in, and +the other two, watching from behind, saw her answering some salutation +with dubious politeness. Then, after a moment, they saw her open it more +widely, and with a shy but hospitable inclination of the pretty +head--"Will you walk in?" said Blue. + +The young man who immediately entered had a very smart appearance to +eyes which had grown accustomed to the working garb of father and +brother. He was, moreover, handsome to a degree that is not ordinary. +The curly hair from which he had lifted his fur cap was black and glossy +as a blackbird's plumage, and the moustache, which did not cover the +full red lips, matched the hair, save that it seemed of finer and softer +material. His brown eyes had the glow of health and good spirits in +them. + +"Dear me!" Mrs. Rexford gave this involuntary exclamation of surprise; +then she turned inquiringly to the visitor. It was not in her nature to +regard him with an unfriendly eye; and as for Blue and Red, a spot of +warm colour had come into each of their sorrowful cheeks. They were too +well bred to look at each other or stare at the stranger, but there was +a flutter of pleased interest about the muscles of their rosy lips that +needed no expressive glances to interpret it. + +To be sure, the next few minutes' talk rather rubbed the bloom off their +pleasure, as one rubs beauty off a plum by handling; but the plum is +still sweet; and the pleasure was still there, being composed purely of +the excitement of meeting a young human creature apparently so akin to +themselves, but different with that mysterious difference which nature +sets between masculine and feminine attributes of mind and heart. + +The young man was an American. Any one experienced in American life +would have observed that the youth was a wanderer, his tricks of speech +and behaviour savouring, not of one locality, but of many. His accent +and manner showed it. He was very mannerly. He stated, without loss of +time, that, hearing that they had lately come to the country and had +some rooms in their house which they did not use, he had taken the +liberty of calling to see if they could let him a couple of rooms. He +was anxious, he said, to set up as a dentist, and had failed, so far, to +find a suitable place. + +The disappointment which Blue and Red experienced in finding that the +handsome youth was a dentist by profession was made up for by the +ecstasy of amusement it caused them to think of his desiring to set up +his business in their house. They would almost have forgiven Fate if she +had withdrawn her latest novelty as suddenly as she had sent him, +because his departure would have enabled them to give vent to the mirth +the suppression of which was, at that moment a pain almost as great as +their girlish natures could bear. + +Oh, no, Mrs. Rexford said, they had no rooms to let in the house. + +The stranger muttered something under his breath, which to an acute ear +might have sounded like "Oh, Jemima!" but he looked so very disconsolate +they could not help being sorry for him as he immediately replied, +soberly enough, "I _am_ sorry. I can't think of any place else to go, +ma'am. I'm _real_ tired, for I've been walking this long time in the +loose snow. Will you permit me to sit and rest for a time on the +doorstep right outside here till I can think what I better do next?" + +Blue fingered the back of a chair nervously. + +"Take a chair by the stove and rest yourself," said Mrs. Rexford. She +had a dignity about her in dealing with a visitor that was not often +apparent in other circumstances. She added, "We have too lately been +strangers ourselves to wish to turn any one weary from our door." Then, +in whispered aside, "Dry your dishes, girls." + +The dignity of bearing with which she spoke to him altered as she threw +her head backward to give this last command. + +"I thank you from my heart, madam." The young man bowed--that is, he +made an angle of himself for a moment. He moved the chair to which she +had motioned him, but did not sit down. "It is impossible for me to +sit," said he, fervently, "while a lady stands." + +The quaintness and novelty in his accent made them unable to test his +manners by any known standard. For all they knew, the most cultured +inhabitant of Boston, New York, or Washington might have behaved +precisely in this way. + +"Sit down, mamma," whispered Blue and Red, with praiseworthy +consideration for their mother's fatigue; "we'll finish the dishes." + +The girls perceived what, perhaps, the stranger had already perceived, +that if their mother consented to sit there was a chance of a more equal +conversation. And Mrs. Rexford sat down. Her mind had been +unconsciously relieved from the exercise of great dignity by the fact +that the stranger did not appear to notice her daughters, apparently +assuming that they were only children. + +"It is _real_ kind of you, ma'am, to be so kind to me. I don't think +_any_ lady has seemed so kind to me since I saw my own mother last." + +He looked pensively at the stove. + +"Your mother lives in the United States, I suppose." He shook his head +sadly. "In heaven now." + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Rexford; and then in a minute, "I am glad to see that +you feel her loss, I am sure." Here she got half off her chair to poke +the damper of the stove. "There is no loss so great as the loss of a +mother." + +"No, and I _always_ feel her loss most when I am tired and hungry; +because, when I was a little chap, you know, it was always when I was +tired and hungry that I went home and found her just sitting there, +quite natural, waiting for me." + +Blue and Red looked at the cupboard. They could not conceive how their +mother could refrain from an offer of tea. But, as it was, she gave the +young man a sharp glance and questioned him further. Where had he come +from? When had he arrived? + +He had come, he said, from the next station on the railway. He had been +looking there, and in many other places, for an opening for his work, +and for various reasons he had now decided that Chellaston was a more +eligible place than any. He had come in the early morning, and had +called on the doctor and on Principal Trenholme of the College. They had +both agreed that there was an opening for a young dentist who would do +his work well, charge low prices, and be content to live cheaply till +the Tillage grew richer. "It's just what _I_ want," he said. "I don't +seem to care much about making money if I can live honestly among +kind-hearted folks." + +"But surely," cried Mrs. Rexford, "neither Dr. Nash nor Principal +Trenholme suggested to you that Captain Rexford could give you rooms +for--" She was going to say "pulling out teeth," but she omitted that. + +The young man looked at her, evidently thinking of something else. +"Would you consider it a liberty, ma'am, if I--" He stopped diffidently, +for, seeing by his manner that he meditated immediate action of some +sort, she looked at him so fiercely that her glance interrupted him for +a moment, "if I were to stop the stove smoking?" He completed the +sentence with great humility, evidently puzzled to know how he had +excited her look of offence. + +She gave another excited poke at the damper herself, and, having got her +hand blacked, wiped it on her coarse grey apron. The diamond keeper +above the wedding-ring looked oddly out of place, but not more so than +the small, shapely hand that wore it. Seeing that she had done the stove +no good, she sat back in her chair with her hands crossed upon her now +dirty apron. + +"You can do nothing with it. Before we came to Canada no one told us +that the kitchen stoves invariably smoked. Had they done so I should +have chosen another country. However, as I say to my children, we must +make the best of it now. There's no use crying; there's no use +lamenting. It only harasses their father." + +The last words were said with a sharp glance of reproof at Blue and Red. +This mother never forgot the bringing up of her children in any one's +presence, but she readily forgot the presence of others in her remarks +to her children. + +"But you aren't making the best of it," said the visitor. With that he +got up, carefully lifted an iron piece in the back of the stove, turned +a key thus disclosed in the pipe, and so materially altered the mood of +the fire that in a few moments it stopped smoking and crackled nicely. + +"Did you ever, mamma!" cried the girls. A juggler's feat could not have +entertained them more. + +"_If_ for a time, first off, you had someone in the house who had lived +in this country, you'd get on first class," said the youth. + +"But you know, my dears," Mrs. Rexford spoke to her daughters, +forgetting the young man for a moment as before, "if I had not supposed +that Eliza understood the stove I should have inquired of Principal +Trenholme before now." + +"May I enquire where you got your help?" asked the American. "If she was +from this locality she certainly ought to have comprehended the stove." + +"She is a native of the country." + +"As I say," he went on, with some emphasis, "if she comes from +hereabouts, or further west, she ought to have understood this sort of a +stove; but, on the other hand, if she comes from the French district, +where they use only the common box stove, she would not understand this +kind." + +He seemed to be absorbed entirely in the stove, and in the benefit to +them of having a "help," as he called her, who understood it. + +"I think she comes from the lumbering country somewhere near the St. +Lawrence," said Mrs. Rexford, examining the key in the stove-pipe. She +could not have said a moment before where Eliza had come from, but this +phrase seemed to sum up neatly any remarks the girl had let fall about +her father's home. + +"_That_ accounts for it! Will you be kind enough to let me see her? I +could explain the mechanism of this stove to her in a few words; then +you, ma'am, need have no further trouble." + +She said she should be sorry to trouble him. If the key were all, she +could explain it. + +"Pardon me"--he bowed again--"it is _not_ all. There are several inner +dampers at the back here, which it is most important to keep free from +soot. If I might only explain it to the help, she'd know once for all. +I'd be real glad to do you that kindness." + +Mrs. Rexford had various things to say. Her speeches were usually +complex, composed of a great variety of short sentences. She asked her +daughters if they thought Eliza would object to coming down. She said +that Eliza was invaluable, but she did not always like to do as she was +asked. She thought the girl had a high temper. She had no wish to rouse +her temper; she had never seen anything of it; she didn't wish to. +Perhaps Eliza would like to come down. Then she asked her daughters +again if they thought Eliza would come pleasantly. Her remarks showed +the track of her will as it veered round from refusal to assent, as +bubbles in muddy water show the track of a diving insect. Finally, +because the young man had a strong will, and was quite decided as to +what he thought best, the girls were sent to fetch Eliza. + +Blue and Red ran out of the kitchen. When they got into the next room +they clasped one another and shook with silent laughter. As the door +between the rooms did not shut tightly, they adjured one another, by +dances and gestures, not to laugh loud. Blue danced round the table on +her toes as a means of stifling her laughter. Then they both ran to the +foot of the attic stair and gripped each other's arms very tight by way +of explaining that the situation was desperate, and that one or other +must control her voice sufficiently to call Eliza. + +The dining-room they were in was built and furnished in the same style +as the kitchen, save that here the wood was painted slate-colour and a +clean rag carpet covered the floor. The upper staircase, very steep and +dark, opened off it at the further end. All the light from a square, +small-paned window fell sideways upon the faces of the girls as they +stretched their heads towards the shadowed covert of the stairs. + +And they could not, _could_ not, speak, although they made gestures of +despair at each other and mauled each other's poor little arms sadly in +the endeavour to prove how hard they were trying to be sober. + +If any one wants to know precisely what they were laughing at, the only +way would be to become for a time one of two girls to whom all the world +is a matter of mutual mirth except when it is a matter of mutual tears. + +Although it seemed very long to them, it was, after all, only a minute +before Blue called in trembling tones, "Eliza!" + +"Eliza!" called Red. + +"Eliza! Eliza!" they both called, and though there was that in their +voices which made it perfectly apparent to the young man in the next +room, that they were laughing, so grand was their composure compared +with what it had been before, that they thought they had succeeded +admirably. + +But when a heavy foot was heard overhead and an answering voice, and it +was necessary to explain to Eliza wherefore she was called, an audible +laugh did escape, and then Blue and Red scampered upstairs and made the +communication there. + +It spoke much for the strength and calibre of character of the girl who +had so lately come into this family that a few minutes later, when the +three girls entered the kitchen, it was Eliza who walked first, with a +bearing equal to that of the other two and a dignity far greater. + +The young man, who had been fidgeting with the stove, looked up gravely +to see them enter, as if anxious to give his lesson; but had any one +looked closely it would have been seen that his acute gaze covered the +foremost figure with an intensity of observation that was hardly called +for if he took no other interest in her than as a transient pupil in the +matter of stove dampers. + +Perhaps any one might have looked with interest at her. She was +evidently young, but there was that in her face that put years, or at +least experience of years, between her and the pretty young things that +followed her. She was largely made, and, carrying a dimpled child of two +years upon her shoulder, she walked erect, as Southern women walk with +their burdens on their heads. It detracted little that her gown was of +the coarsest, and that her abundant red hair was tossed by the child's +restless hands. Eliza, as she entered the kitchen, was, if not a +beautiful girl, a girl on the eve of splendid womanhood; and the young +man, perceiving this almost faltered in his gaze, perhaps also in the +purpose he was pursuing. The words of the lesson he had ready seemed to +be forgotten, although his outward composure did not fail him. + +Eliza came near, the child upon her shoulder, looked at him and waited. + +"Eliza will hear what you have to say," said Mrs. Rexford. + +"Oh," said he, and then, whatever had been the cause of his momentary +pause, he turned it off with the plea that he had not supposed this to +be "the--young lady who--wished to learn about the stove." + +She received what he had to say without much appreciation, remarking +that, with the exception of the one key, she had known it before. + +As for him, he took up his cap to go. "Good-day, ma'am," he said; "I'm +obliged for your hospitality. Ladies, I beg leave now to retire." He +made his bow elaborately, first to Mrs. Rexford, then in the direction +of the girls. + +"My card, ma'am," he said, presenting Mrs. Rexford with the thing he +mentioned. + +Then he went out. + +On the card was printed, "Cyril P. Harkness, M.D.S." + +It was growing so dark that Mrs. Rexford had to go to the window to read +it. As she did so, the young man's shadow passed below the frosted pane +as he made his way between snow-heaps to the main road. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Next day Eliza went out with two of the little children. It was in the +early afternoon, and the sun shone brightly. Eliza had an errand down +the street, but every one knows that one does not progress very fast on +an errand with a toddler of two years at one's side. Eliza sauntered, +giving soothing answers to the little one's treble remarks, and only +occasionally exerting herself to keep the liveliness of her older charge +in check. Eliza liked the children and the sunshine and the road. Her +saunter was not an undignified one, nor did she neglect her duty in any +particular; but all the while there was an undercurrent of greater +activity in her mind, and the under-thoughts were occupied wholly and +entirely with herself and her own interests. + +After walking in the open road for a little while she came under the +great elm trees that held their leafless limbs in wide arch over the +village street. Here a footpath was shovelled in the snow, on either +side of the sleigh road. The sun was throwing down the graceful lines of +elm twigs on path and snowdrift. The snow lawns in front of the village +houses were pure and bright; little children played in them with tiny +sledge and snow spade, often under the watchful eye of a mother who sat +sewing behind the window pane. Now and then sleighs passed on the +central road with a cheerful jingle of bells. + +When Eliza, with the children, came to the centre of the village, it +became necessary to cross the street. She was bound for the largest +shop, that stood under part of the great hotel, and just here, opposite +the hotel, quite a number of sleighs were passing. Eliza picked up the +little one in her arms, and, taking the other child by the hand, essayed +to cross. But one reckons without one's host in counting surely on the +actions of children. Sturdy five-year-old baulked like a little horse, +and would not come. Eliza coaxed in vain. A long line of draught-horses, +dragging blue box-sleighs, came slowly up the road, each jingling a +heavy belt of bells. Five-year-old was frightened and would not come. +Eliza, without irritation, but at the same time without hesitation, took +it by the waist under her left arm and started again. She got half +across before the child seemed thoroughly to realise what was occurring, +and then, with head and arms in front and little gaitered legs behind, +it began to struggle so violently that the young woman, strong and +composed as she was, was brought for a minute to a standstill. + +Two men were watching her from the smoking-room of the hotel; the one an +elderly man, the owner of the house, had his attention arrested by the +calm force of character Eliza was displaying; the other, the young +American dentist, saw in the incident an excuse for interference, and he +rushed out now to the rescue, and gallantly carried the little naughty +one safely to the right side of the road. + +Eliza, recognising him, saw that he was looking at her with the pleasant +air of an old acquaintance--one, in fact, who knew her so well that any +formal greeting was unnecessary--not that she knew anything about +greetings, or what might or might not be expected, but she had an +indistinct sense that he was surprisingly friendly. + +"How's the stove going?" then he asked. He escorted her into the shop, +and superintended her little purchases in a good-natured, elder-brother +fashion. That done, he carried the elder child across the road again, +and Eliza went upon her way back down the long narrow pavement, with the +children at her side. + +She had shown nothing to the young man but composed appreciation of his +conduct. She was, however, conscious that he would not have been so kind +to any girl he happened to meet. "He admires me," thought Eliza to +herself. For all that, she was not satisfied with the encounter. She +felt that she had not played her part well; she had been too--had been +too--she did not know what. She thought if she had held her head higher +and shown herself less thankful--yes, there had been something amiss in +her behaviour that ought to be corrected. She could not define what she +had done, or ought to have done. How could she? An encounter of this +sort was as new to her as Mrs. Rexford's sewing machine, which she had +not yet been allowed to touch. Yet had she been shut up alone with the +machine, as she was now shut up to revise her own conduct within +herself, she would, by sheer force of determined intelligence, have +mastered its intricacy to a large degree without asking aid. And so with +this strong idea that she must learn how to act differently to this +young man; dim, indeed, as was her idea of what was lacking, or what was +to be gained, she strove with it in no fear of failure. + +She raised her head as she walked, and recast the interview just past in +another form more suited to her vague ideal, and again in another. She +had a sense of power within her, that sense which powerful natures have, +without in the least knowing in what direction the power may go forth, +or when they will be as powerless--as Samson shaven. She only felt the +power and its accompanying impulses; she supposed that in all ways, at +all times, it was hers to use. + +In a day or two Cyril Harkness met Eliza in the street again, and took +occasion to speak to her. This time she was much less obliging in her +manner. She threw a trifle of indifference into her air, looking in +front of her instead of at him, and made as if she wished to proceed. +Had this interview terminated as easily as the other, she would have +been able to look back upon it with complete satisfaction, as having +been carried on, on her part, according to her best knowledge of +befitting dignity; but, unfortunately for her, the young American was of +an outspoken disposition, and utterly untrammelled by those instincts of +conventionality which Eliza had, not by training, but by inheritance +from her law-abiding and custom-loving Scotch ancestry. + +"Say," said he, "are you mad at anything?" + +He gained at least this much, that she instantly stared at him. + +"If you aren't angry with me, why should you act crusty?" he urged. "You +aren't half as pleasant as t'other day." + +Eliza had not prepared herself for this free speaking, and her mind was +one that moved slowly. + +"I must take the children home," she said. "I'm not angry. I wasn't +pleasant that I know of." + +"You ought to be pleasant, any way; for I'm your best friend." + +Eliza was not witty, and she really could not think of an answer to this +astonishing assertion. Again she looked at him in simple surprise. + +"Well, yes, I am; although you don't know it. There isn't man round +Turriffs who has the least idea in the world where you are, for your +friends left you asleep when they came out with the old gentleman; when +I twigged how you got off I never told a word. Your father had been +seen" (here he winked) "near Dalhousie, wandering round! But they won't +find you unless I tell them, and I won't." + +"Won't find me unless you tell them," repeated Eliza slowly, the utmost +astonishment in her tone. "Who?" + +So vague and great was the wonder in her voice that he brought his eyes +to interrogate hers in sudden surprise. He saw only simple and strong +interest on the face of a simple and strong country girl. He had +expected a different response and a different expression. + +He put his tongue in the side of his cheek with the air of an +uncontrolled boy who has played a trump-card in vain. "Say," said he, +"didn't you, though?" + +"Didn't I?" said Eliza, and after a minute she said, "What?" + +The young man looked at her and smiled. His smile suggested a cunning +recognition that she was deceiving him by pretended dulness. + +At this Eliza looked excessively offended, and, with her head aloft, +began to push on the little sleigh with the baby in it. + +"Beg your pardon, ma'am," he said with sudden humility, but with a +certain lingering in his voice as if he could not relinquish his former +idea as suddenly as he wished to appear to do. "I see I've made a +mistake." + +Eliza hesitated in her onward movement. "But what was it you were going +to tell about me?" She spoke as if she had merely then remembered how +the conversation began. + +His recantation was now complete. "Nothing; oh, nothing. T'was just my +fun, miss." + +She surveyed him with earnest disapprobation. + +"You're not a very sensible young man, I'm afraid." + +She said this severely, and then, with great dignity, she went home. + +The young man lingered for a minute or two by the snow piles in front of +the hotel where they had been standing. Then he went into the hotel with +the uncertain step that betokens an undecided mind. When he got to the +window he looked out at her retreating figure--a white street with this +grey-clad healthy-looking girl walking down it, and the little red +box-sleigh with the baby in it which she pushed before her. He was quite +alone, and he gave vent to an emphatic half-whisper to himself. + +"If she did it, she's a magnificent deep one--a magnificent deep one." +There was profound admiration in his voice. + +That evening it was Mrs. Rexford who happened to wipe the tea-things +while Eliza washed them. + +"That young Mr. Harkness, the dentist--" began Eliza. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Rexford, alert. + +"Twice when I've been to the shop he's tried to make himself pleasant to +me and the children. I don't suppose he means any harm, but he's not a +sensible young man, I think." + +"You're a very sensible girl, Eliza," said Mrs. Rexford, with quick +vigour and without any sense of contrast. + +"It doesn't matter to me," went on Eliza, "for I don't answer him more +than I can help; but if he was to talk to the other girls when they go +out, I suppose they'd know not to notice him too much." + +Mrs. Rexford was one of those people who get accustomed to +circumstances in the time that it takes others to begin to wonder at +them. She often took for granted now that Eliza would consider her +daughters as, entirely on a level with herself, but less sensible. It +might not be wholly agreeable; neither, to Mrs. Rexford's mind, was it +agreeable to have the earth covered with snow for four months of the +year; but she had ceased wondering at that phenomenon a minute after she +had first read of it in a book of travels, and all the ever-fresh marvel +of its glossy brightness had, failed to bring fresh comment to her lips, +or to make her mind more familiar with the idea. In the same way, she +had accepted Eliza's position and character as a complex fact which, +like the winter, had advantages and disadvantages. Mrs. Rexford put up +with the latter, was thankful for the former, and wasted no more +thoughts on the matter. + +Eliza's last remark, however, was a subject for consideration, and with +Mrs. Rexford consideration was speech. + +"Dear me!" she said. "Well!" Then she took a few paces backward, +dish-cloth and dish still in hand, till she brought herself opposite the +next room door. The long kitchen was rather dark, as the plates were +being washed by the light of one candle, but in the next room Captain +Rexford and his family were gathered round a table upon which stood +lamps giving plenty of light. + +The mother addressed the family in general. "The dentist," said she, +"talks to Eliza when she goes to the shop. Blue and Red! if he should +speak to you, you must show the same sense Eliza did, and take not the +slightest notice." + +Sophia had asked what the dentist said to Eliza, and Mrs. Rexford had +reproved the girls for laughing, while the head of the family prepared +himself to answer in his kindly, leisurely, and important way. + +"To 'take not the slightest notice' is, perhaps, requiring more of such +young heads than might be possible. It would be difficult even for me to +take no notice whatever of a young man who accosted me in a place like +this. Severity, mild displeasure, or a determination not to speak, +might be shown." + +"If necessary," said Sophia; "but--" + +"If _necessary_," the father corrected himself, emphasizing his words +with a gentle tap of his fingers on the table. "I only mean if +necessary, of course." + +"People have such easy-going ways here," said Sophia. "Don't you think, +mamma, a little ordinary discretion on the girls' part would be enough? +Blue and Red have too much sense, I suppose, to treat him as an equal; +but they can be polite." + +Eliza, overhearing this, decided that she would never treat the young +American as an equal, although she had no idea why she should not. + +Let it not be supposed that Mrs. Rexford had idled over the dish she was +wiping. The conversation was, in fact, carried on between the family in +the bright sitting-room and an intermittent appearance of Mrs. Rexford +at the door of the shady kitchen. Twice she had disappeared towards +Eliza's table to get a fresh plate and come again, rubbing it. + +"Ah, girls," she now cried, "Sophia is always giving you credit for more +sense than I'm afraid you possess. No giggling, now, if this young +fellow should happen to say 'good morning.' Just 'good morning' in +return, and pass on--nothing more." + +The father's leisurely speech again broke in and hushed the little +babble. + +"Certainly, my dear daughters, under such circumstances as your mother +suggests; to look down modestly, and answer the young man's salutation +with a little primness, and not to hesitate in your walk--that, I should +think, is perhaps the course of conduct your mother means to indicate." + +"It strikes me," said Harold, the eldest son, "a good deal depends on +what he _did_ say to Eliza. Eliza!" + +This last was a shout, and the girl responded to it, so that there were +now two figures at the door, Mrs. Rexford drying the dish, and Eliza +standing quite quietly and at ease. + +"Yes, my son," responded Captain Rexford, "it _does_ depend a good deal +on what he _did_ say to Eliza. Now, Eliza" (this was the beginning of a +judicial inquiry), "I understand from Mrs. Rexford that----" + +"I've heard all that you have said," said Eliza. "I've been just here." + +"Ah! Then without any preface" (he gave a wave of his hand, as if +putting aside the preface), "I might just ask you, Eliza, what this +young--Harkness, I believe his name is--what----" + +"He's just too chatty, that's all that's the matter with him," said +Eliza. "He took off his hat and talked, and he'd have been talking yet +if I hadn't come away. There was no sense in what he said, good or bad." + +The children were at last allowed to go on with their lessons. + +When the dish-washing was finished and Mrs. Rexford came into the +sitting-room, Sophia took the lamp by the light of which she had been +doing the family darning into the kitchen, and she and Harold +established themselves there. Harold, a quiet fellow about nineteen, was +more like his half-sister than any other member of the family, and there +was no need that either should explain to the other why they were glad +to leave the nervous briskness of the more occupied room. It was their +habit to spend their evenings here, and Sophia arranged that Eliza +should bring her own sewing and work at it under her direction. Harold +very often read aloud to them. It was astonishing how quickly, not +imperceptibly, but determinedly, the Canadian girl took on the habits +and manners of the lady beside her; not thereby producing a poor +imitation, for Eliza was not imitative, but by careful study reproducing +in herself much of Sophia's refinement. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +That evening Blue and Red were sent to bed rather in disgrace, because +they had professed themselves too sleepy to finish sewing a seam their +mother had given them to do. + +Very sleepy, very glad to fold up their work, they made their way, +through the cold empty room which was intended to be the drawing-room +when it was furnished, to one of the several bedrooms that opened off +it. There was only one object in the empty room which they passed +through, and that was the big family carriage, for which no possible use +could be found during the long winter, and for the storing of which no +outside place was considered good enough. It stood wheelless in a +corner, with a large grey cloth over it, and the girls passing it with +their one flickering candle looked at it a little askance. They had the +feeling that something might be within or behind it which would bounce +out at them. + +Once, however, within their small whitewashed bedroom, they felt quite +safe. Their spirits rose a little when they shut the door, for now there +was no exacting third person to expect anything but what they chose to +give. Theirs was that complete happiness of two persons when it has been +long proved that neither ever does anything which the other does not +like, and neither ever wants from the other what is not naturally given. + +They were still sleepy when they unbuttoned each other's frocks, but +when they had come to the next stage of shaking out their curly hair +they began to make remarks which tended to dispel their drowsiness. + +Said Blue, "Is it very dreadful to be a dentist?" + +Said Red, "Yes; horrid. You have to put your fingers in people's mouths, +you know." + +"But doctors have to _cut off legs_, and doctors are quite----" + +There is another advantage in perfect union of twin souls, and that is, +that it is never necessary to finish a remark the end of which does not +immediately find expression on the tip of the tongue, for the other +always knows what is going to be said. + +"Yes, I know doctors are," replied Red; "still, you know, Principal +Trenholme said Mr. Harkness is not a well-bred American." + +"His first name is Cyril. I saw it on the card," replied Blue, quitting +the question of social position. + +"It's a _lovely_ name," said Red, earnestly. + +"And I'll tell you," said Blue, turning round with sudden earnestness +and emphasis, "I think he's the _handsomest_ young man I _ever saw_." + +The rather odd plan Mrs. Rexford had hit on for lessening the likeness +between these two, clothing each habitually in a distinctive colour, had +not been carried into her choice of material for their dressing-gowns. +These garments were white; and, as a stern mood of utility had guided +their mother's shears, they were short and almost shapeless. The curly +hair which was being brushed over them had stopped its growth, as curly +hair often does, at the shoulders. In the small whitewashed room the two +girls looked as much like choristers in surplices as anything might +look, and their sweet oval faces had that perfect freshness of youth +which is strangely akin to the look of holiness, in spite of the +absolute frivolity of conduct which so often characterises young +companionship. + +When Blue made her earnest little assertion, she also made an earnest +little dab at the air with her brush to emphasise it; and Red, letting +her brush linger on her curly mop, replied with equal emphasis and the +same earnest, open eyes, "Oh, so do I." + +This decided, there was quiet for a minute, only the soft sound of +brushing. Then Red began that pretty little twittering which bore to +their laughter when in full force the same relation that the first faint +chit, chit, chit of a bird bears to its full song. + +"Weren't papa and mamma funny when they talked about what we should do +if he spoke to us?" + +She did not finish her sentence before merriment made it difficult for +her to pronounce the words; and as for Blue, she was obliged to throw +herself on the side of the bed. + +Then again Blue sat up. + +"You're to look down as you pass him, Red--like this, look!" + +"_That_ isn't right." Red said this with a little shriek of delight. +"You're smiling all over your face--that won't do." + +"Because I _can't_ keep my face straight. Oh, Red, what _shall_ we do? I +know that if we _ever_ see him after this we shall simply _die_." + +"Oh, yes"--with tone of full conviction--"I know we shall." + +"But we _shall_ meet him." + +They became almost serious for some moments at the thought of the +inevitableness of the meeting and the hopelessness of conducting +themselves with any propriety. + +"And what will he think?" continued Blue, in sympathetic distress; "he +will certainly think we are laughing at _him_, for he will never imagine +how much we have been amused." + +Red, however, began to brush her hair again. "Blue," said she, "did you +ever try to see how you looked in the glass when your eyes were cast +down? You can't, you know." + +Blue immediately tried, and admitted the difficulty. + +"I wish I could," said Red, "for then I should know how I should look +when he had spoken to me and I was passing him." + +"Well, do it, and I'll tell you." + +"Then you stand there, and I'll come along past and look down just when +I meet you." + +Red made the experiment rather seriously, but Blue cried out: + +"Oh, you looked at me out of the corner of your eye, just as you were +looking down--that'll never do." + +"I didn't mean to. Now look! I'm doing it again." The one white-gowned +figure stood with its back to the bed while the other through its little +acting down the middle of the room. + +"That's better"--critically. + +"Well," pursued Red, with interest, "how does it look?" + +"Rather nice. I shouldn't wonder if he fell in love with you." + +This was a sudden and extraordinary audacity of thought. + +"Oh, Blue!"--in shocked tones--"How could you think of such a thing!" She +reproached her sister as herself. It was actually the first time such a +theme had been broached even in their private converse. + +"Well," said Blue, stoutly, "he might, you know. Such things happen." + +"I don't think it's quite nice to think of it," said Red, meditatively. + +"It isn't nice," said Blue, agreeing perfectly, but unwilling to recant; +"still, it may be our duty to think of it. Sophia said once that a woman +was always more or less responsible if a man fell in love with her." + +"Did Sophia say that?" Weighty worlds of responsibility seemed to be +settling on little Red's shoulders. + +"Yes; she was talking to mamma about something. So, as it's quite +possible he might fall in love with us, we _ought_ to consider the +matter." + +"You don't think he's falling in love with Eliza, do you?" + +"Oh no!"--promptly--"but then Eliza isn't like us." + +Red looked at her pretty face in the glass as she continued to smooth +out the brown curls. She thought of Eliza's tall figure, immobile white +face, and crown of red hair. + +"No," she said, meditatively; "but, Blue"--this quite seriously--"I hope +he won't fall in love with us." + +"Oh, so do I; for it would make him feel so miserable. But I think, +Red, when you looked down you did not look _prim_ enough--you know papa +said 'prim.' Now, you stand, and I'll do it." + +So Blue now passed down the little narrow room, but when she came to the +critical spot, the supposed meeting ground, her desire to laugh +conflicting with the effort to pull a long face, caused such a wry +contortion of her plump visage that seriousness deserted them once more, +and they bubbled over in mirth that would have been boisterous had it +not been prudently muffled in the pillows. + +After that they said their prayers. But when they had taken off the +clumsy dressing-gowns and got into the feather-bed under the big +patchwork quilt, like two little white rabbits nestling into one +another, they reverted once more to their father's instructions for +meeting the dentist, and giggled themselves to sleep. + +Another pair of talkers, also with some common attributes of character, +but with less knowledge of each other, were astir after these sisters +had fallen asleep. + +Most of the rooms in the house were on the ground-floor, but there were +two attic bedrooms opening off a very large room in the roof which the +former occupant had used as a granary. One of these Sophia occupied with +a child; the other had been given to Eliza. That night, when Sophia was +composing herself to sleep, she heard Eliza weeping. So smothered were +the sounds of sorrow that she could hardly hear them. She lifted her +head, listened, then, putting a long fur cloak about her, went into the +next room. + +No sooner was her hand on the latch of Eliza's door than all sound +ceased. She stood for a minute in the large, dark granary. The draught +in it was almost great enough to be called a breeze, and it whispered in +the eaves which the sloping rafters made round the edges of the floor as +a wind might sigh in some rocky cave. Sophia opened the door and went +in. + +"What is the matter, Eliza?" + +Even in the almost darkness she could see that the girl's movement Was +an involuntary feigning of surprise. + +"Nothing." + +"I used to hear you crying when we first came, Eliza, and now you have +begun it again. Tell me what troubles you. Why do you pretend that +nothing is the matter?" + +The cold glimmer of the light of night reflected on snow came in at the +diamond-shaped window, and the little white bed was just shadowed forth +to Sophia's sight. The girl in it might have been asleep, she remained +so quiet. + +"Are you thinking about your father?" + +"I don't know." + +"Do you dislike being here?" + +"No; but--" + +"But what? What is troubling you, Eliza? You're not a girl to cry for +nothing. Since you came to us I have seen that you are a +straightforward, good girl; and you have plenty of sense, too. Come, +tell me how it is you cry like this?" + +Eliza sat up. "You won't tell them downstairs?" she said slowly. + +"You may trust me not to repeat anything that is not necessary." + +Eliza moved nervously, and her movements suggested hopelessness of +trouble and difficulty of speech. Sophia pitied her. + +"I don't know," she said restlessly, stretching out aimless hands into +the darkness, "I don't know why I cry, Miss Sophia. It isn't for one +thing more than another; everything is the reason--everything, +everything." + +"You mean, for one thing, that your father has gone, and you are +homesick?" + +"You said you wouldn't _tell?_" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I'm not sorry about _that_, because--well, I suppose I liked +father as well as he liked me, but as long as he lived I'd have had to +stay on the clearin', and I hated that. I'm glad to be here; but, oh! I +want so much--I want so much--oh, Miss Sophia, don't you know?" + +In some mysterious way Sophia felt that she did know, although she could +not in any way formulate her confused feeling of kinship with this young +girl, so far removed from her in outward experience. It seemed to her +that she had at some time known such trouble as this, which was composed +of wanting "so much--so much," and hands that were stretched, not +towards any living thing, but vaguely to all possible possession outside +the longing self. + +"I want to be something," said Eliza, "rich or--I don't know--I would +like to drive about in a fine way like some ladies do, or wear grander +clothes than any one. Yes, I would like to keep a shop, or do something +to make me very rich, and make everybody wish they were like me." + +Sophia smiled to herself, but the darkness was about them. Then Sophia +sighed. Crude as were the notions that went to make up the ignorant idea +of what was desirable, the desire for it was without measure. There was +a silence, and when Eliza spoke again Sophia did not doubt but that she +told her whole mind. + +It is a curious thing, this, that when a human being of average +experience is confided in, the natural impulse is to assume that +confidence is complete, and the adviser feels as competent to pronounce +upon the case from the statement given as if minds were as limpid as +crystal, and words as fit to represent them as a mirror is to show the +objects it reflects. Yet if the listener would but look within, he would +know that in any complicated question of life there would be much that +he would not, more than he could not, tell of himself, unless long years +of closest companionship had revealed the one heart to the other in ways +that are beyond the power of words. And that is so even if the whole +heart is set to be honest above all--and how many hearts are so set? + +"You see," said Eliza, "if people knew I had lived on a very poor +clearin' and done the work, they'd despise me perhaps." + +"It is no disgrace to any one to have worked hard, and it certainly +cannot be a disadvantage in this country." + +"It was rough." + +"You are not very rough, Eliza. It strikes me that you have been pretty +carefully trained and taught." + +"Yes, I was that"--with satisfaction. "But don't you think, if I got on, +grand people would always look down at me if they knew I'd lived so +common? And besides, I'm sometimes afraid the man that went shares at +the land with father will want to find me." + +"But you said you told him you were coming away." + +"I told him, plain and honest; but I had a long way to walk till I got +to the train, and I just went off. But he won't find it so easy to fill +my place, and get some one to do the housework! He'd have kept me, if he +could; and if he heard where I was he might come and try to get me back +by saying father said I was to obey him till I was twenty-one." + +"If your father said--that--" + +"No," cried the girl, vehemently, "he never did." + +"You will hear from your uncle in Scotland?" said Sophia. + +"I don't believe he'll write to me. I don't believe he lives any more +where I sent the letter. It's years and years since father heard from +him. I said I'd write because I thought it would look more respectable +to Mrs. Rexford to have an uncle. And I did write; but he won't answer." + +This was certainly frank. + +"Was that honest, Eliza?" + +"No, Miss Sophia; but I felt so miserable. It's hard to walk off with +your bundle, and be all alone and afraid of a man coming after you, and +being so angry. He was dreadful angry when I told him I'd come. If you'd +only _promise_ not tell where I came from to anybody, so that it can't +get round to him that I'm here, and so that people won't know how I +lived before--" + +"Well, we certainly have no reason to tell anybody. If it will make you +content, I can assure you none of us will talk about your affairs. Was +that all the trouble?" + +"No--not all." + +"Well, what else?" Sophia laughed a little, and laid her cool hand on +the girl's hot one. + +"I can't be anything grand ever, and begin by being a servant, Miss +Sophia. I say I'm not a servant, and I try not to act like one; but Mrs. +Rexford, she's tried hard to make me one. You wouldn't like to be a +servant, Miss Sophia?" + +"You are very childish and foolish," said Sophia. "If I had not been +just as foolish about other things when I was your age I would laugh at +you now. But I know it's no use to tell you that the things you want +will not make you happy, and that the things you don't want would, +because I know you will not believe it. I will do my best to help you to +get what you want, so far as it is not wrong, if you will promise to +tell me all your difficulties." + +"Will you help me? Why are you so kind?" + +"Because--" said Sophia. Then she said no more. + +Eliza showed herself cheered. + +"You're the only one I care to talk to, Miss Sophia. The others haven't +as much sense as you, have they?" + +As these words were quietly put forth in the darkness, without a notion +of impropriety, Sophia was struck with the fact that they coincided with +her own estimate of the state of the case. + +"Eliza, what are you talking of--not of my father and mother surely?" + +"Why, yes. I think they're good and kind, but I don't think they've a +deal of sense--do you?" + +"My father is a wiser man than you can understand, Eliza; and--" Sophia +broke off, she was fain to retreat; it was cold for one thing. + +"Miss Sophia," said Eliza, as she was getting to the door, "there's one +thing--you know that young man they were talking about to-night?" + +"What of him?" + +"Well, if he were to ask about me, you'd not tell him anything, would +you? I've never told anybody but you about father, or any particulars. +The others don't know anything, and you won't tell, will you?" + +"I've told you I won't take upon myself to speak of your affairs. What +has that young man to do with it?"--with some severity. + +"It's only that he's a traveller, and I feel so silly about every +traveller, for fear they'd want me to go back to the clearin'." + +Sophia took the few necessary steps in the cold dark granary and reached +her own room. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Sophia was sitting with Mrs. Rexford on the sofa that stood with its +back to the dining-room window. The frame of the sofa was not turned, +but fashioned with saw and knife and plane; not glued, but nailed +together. Yet it did not lack for comfort; it was built oblong, large, +and low; it was cushioned with sacking filled with loose hay plentifully +mixed with Indian grass that gave forth a sweet perfume, and the whole +was covered with a large neat pinafore of such light washing stuff as +women wear about their work on summer days. Sophia and her step-mother +were darning stockings. The homesickness of the household was rapidly +subsiding, and to-day these two were not uncomfortable or unhappy. The +rest of the family, some to work, some to play, and some to run errands, +had been dismissed into the large outside. + +The big house was tranquil. The afternoon sun, which had got round to +the kitchen window, blazed in there through a fringe of icicles that +hung from the low eaves of the kitchen roof, and sent a long strip of +bright prismatic rays across the floor and through the door on to the +rag carpet under the dining-room table. Ever and anon, as the ladies +sewed, the sound of sleigh-bells came to them, distant, then nearer, +then near, with the trotting of horses' feet as they passed the house, +then again more distant. The dining-room window faced the road, but one +could not see through it without standing upright. + +"Mamma," said Sophia, "it is quite clear we can never make an ordinary +servant out of Eliza; but if we try to be companionable to her we may +help her to learn what she needs to learn, and make her more willing to +stay with us." + +It was Mrs. Rexford's way never to approach a subject gradually in +speech. If her mind went through the process ordinarily manifested in +introductory remarks it slipped through it swiftly and silently, and her +speech darted into the heart of the subject, or skipped about and hit it +on all sides at once. + +"Ah, but I told her again and again, Sophia, to say 'miss' to the girls. +She either didn't hear, or she forgot, or she wouldn't understand. I +think you're the only one she'll say 'miss' to. But we couldn't do +without her. Mrs. Nash was telling me the other day that her girl had +left in the middle of the washing, and the one they had before that for +a year--a little French Romanist--stole all their handkerchiefs, and did +not give them back till she made confession to her priest at Easter. It +was very _awkward_, Sophia, to be without handkerchiefs all winter." The +crescendo emphasis which Mrs. Rexford had put into her remarks found its +fortissimo here. Then she added more mildly, "Though I got no character +with Eliza I am convinced she will never pilfer." + +Mrs. Rexford was putting her needle out and in with almost electric +speed. Her mind was never quiet, but there was a healthy cheerfulness in +her little quick movements that removed them from the region of weak +nervousness. Yet Sophia knit her brow, and it was with an effort that +she continued amicably: + +"Certainly we should be more uncomfortable without her just now than +she would be without us; but if she left us there's no saying where her +ambition might lead her." + +Mrs. Rexford bethought her that she must look at some apples that were +baking in the kitchen oven, which she did, and was back in time to make +a remark in exchange without causing any noticeable break in the +conversation. She always gave remarks in exchange, seldom in reply. + +"Scotchmen are faithful to their kinsfolk usually, aren't they, Sophia?" + +"You think that the uncle she wrote to will answer. He may be dead, or +may have moved away; the chances are ten to one that he will not get the +letter. I think the girl is in our hands. We have come into a +responsibility that we can't make light of." + +"Good gracious, Sophia! it's only the hen with one chicken that's afraid +to take another under her wing." + +"I know you want to do your best for her--that's why I'm talking." + +"Oh, _I_--it's you that takes half the burden of them all." + +"Well, _we_ want to do our best--" + +"And you, my dear, could go back whenever you liked. _You_ have not +burned the bridges and boats behind you. There's _one_ would be glad to +see you back in the old country, and that lover of yours is a good man, +Sophia." + +A sudden flush swept over the young woman's face, as if the allusion +offended her; but she took no other notice of what was said, and +continued: "I don't suggest any radical alteration in our ways; I only +thought that, if you had it in your mind to make a companion of her, the +pains you take in teaching her might take a rather different form, and +perhaps have a better result." + +"I think our own girls grow more giddy every day," said Mrs. Rexford, +exactly as if it were an answer. "If Blue and Red were separated they +would both be more sensible." + +The mother's mind had now wandered from thought of the alien she had +taken, not because she had not given attention to the words of the +daughter she thought so wise, but because, having considered them as +long as she was accustomed to consider anything, she had decided to act +upon them, and so could dismiss the subject with a good conscience. + +The conversation ceased thus, as many conversations do, without apparent +conclusion; for Sophia, vexed by her step-mother's flighty manner of +speech, hid her mood in silence. Anything like discussion between these +two always irritated Sophia, and then, conscious that she had in this +fallen below her ideal, she chafed again at her own irritation. The evil +from which she now suffered was of the stuff of which much of the pain +of life is made--a flimsy stuff that vanishes before the investigation +of reason more surely than the stuff of our evanescent joys. There was +nothing that could be called incompatibility of temper between these +two; no one saw more clearly than Sophia the generosity and courage of +Mrs. Rexford's heart; no one else sympathised so deeply with her +motherly cares, for no one else understood them half so well; and yet it +might have been easier for Sophia Rexford to have lived in external +peace with a covetous woman, able to appreciate and keep in steady view +the relative importance of her ideas. + +Meantime Mrs. Rexford went on talking. She was generally unconscious of +the other's intellectual disdain. Pretty soon they heard bells and +horses' feet that slackened at the gate. Sophia stood up to look. + +There was a comfortable sleigh, albeit somewhat battered and dingy, +turning in at the gate. A good-looking girl was driving it; a thin, pale +lady sat at her side. Both were much enveloped in faded furs. Over the +seats of the sleigh and over their knees were spread abundant robes of +buffalo hide. The horse that drew the vehicle was an old farm-horse, and +the hand that guided the reins appeared more skilful at driving than was +necessary. The old reins and whip were held in a most stylish manner, +and the fair driver made an innocent pretence of guiding her steed up +the road to the back-yard with care. The animal the while, having once +been shown the gate, trotted quietly, with head down, up the middle of +the sleigh track, and stopped humbly where the track stopped, precisely +as it would have done had there been no hand upon the rein. + +Sophia, standing in the middle of the sitting-room, watched the visitors +through the windows of that room and of the kitchen, with unwonted +animation in her handsome face. The girl, who was now evidently coming +with her mother to call upon them, had been named to her more than once +by discriminating people as the most likely person in the neighbourhood +to prove a friend and companion to herself, and Sophia, in her present +situation, could not be at all indifferent to such a prospect. She had +already observed them in church, wondering not a little at that +scrupulous attention to ceremony which had made them ignore the +existence of the newcomers till their acquaintance should have been made +in due form. + +"Mamma," said she, "this is Mrs. Bennett and her daughter." + +"Something to do with an admiral, haven't they?" cried Mrs. Rexford. + +It proved to be an unnecessary exertion of memory on Mrs. Rexford's part +to recollect what she had heard of the relatives of her visitors, for +not long after Mrs. Bennett had introduced herself and her daughter she +brought her uncle, the admiral, into the conversation with considerable +skill. + +She was a delicate, narrow-minded woman, with no open vulgarity about +her, but simply ignorant of the fact that bragging of one's +distinguished relatives had fallen into disuse. Her daughter, was like +her in manner, with the likeness imposed by having such a mother, but +much more largely made in mind and body, pleasant-looking, healthy, +high-browed. Sophia liked her appearance. + +Mrs. Rexford, her mind ever upon some practical exigency, now remembered +that she had also heard that the Bennetts managed their dairy +excellently, and, having a large craving for help on all such subjects, +she began to bewail her own ignorance, asking many and various +questions; but, although she did not perceive it, it soon became +apparent to her more observant daughter that the visitors, having come +out to make a call of ceremony, preferred to talk on subjects more +remote from their daily drudgery, on subjects which they apparently +considered more elegant and becoming. Unable to check the flow of her +mother's talk, Sophia could only draw her chair cosily near to Miss +Bennett and strike into a separate conversation, hoping for, and +expecting, mental refreshment. + +"I suppose there are no good lending libraries in any of the towns near +here," she began. "How do you get new books or magazines?" + +Miss Bennett had a bright, cordial manner. She explained that she +thought there was a circulating library in every town. When she was +visiting in Quebec her friends had got a novel for her at two cents a +day. And then she said Principal Trenholme bought a good many books, and +he had once told her mother that he would lend them any they chose, but +they had never had time to go and look over them. "It has," she added, +"been such an advantage to Chellaston to have a gentleman so clever as +he at the college." + +"Has it?" said Sophia, willing to hear more. "Is he very clever?" + +"Oh," cried the other, "from Oxford, you know;" and she said it in much +the tone she might have said "from heaven." + +"Is it long," asked Sophia, "since you have been in England?" + +Miss Bennett said she had never been "home," but she longed, above all +things, to go. + +She had, it seemed, been born in Canada, and her parents had no +possessions in the mother-country, and yet she always called it "home." +This was evidently a tradition. + +Sophia, who had come from England a little tired of the conditions +there, and eager for a change, felt the pathetic sameness of the +discontent wrought by surfeit and by famine. + +"Yet," said she, "it is a relief to the mind to feel that one lives in a +country where no worthy person is starving, and where every one has a +good chance in life if he will but avail himself of it. It seems to make +me breathe more freely to know that in all this great country there is +none of that necessary poverty that we have in big English towns." + +Little answer was made to this, and Sophia went on to talk of what +interested her in English politics; but found that of the politics, as +well as of the social condition, of the country she adored, Miss Bennett +was largely ignorant. Her interest in such matters appeared to sum +itself up in a serene belief that Disraeli, then prominent, was the one +prop of the English Constitution, and as adequate to his position as +Atlas beneath the world. Now, Sophia cherished many a Radical opinion of +her own, and she would have enjoyed discussion; but it would have been +as difficult to aim a remark at the present front of her new +acquaintance as it would be for a marksman to show his skill with a +cloud of vapour as a target. Sophia tried Canadian politics, owning her +ignorance and expressing her desire to understand what she had read in +the newspapers since her arrival; but Miss Bennett was not sure that +there was anything that "could exactly be called politics" in Canada, +except that there was a Liberal party who "wanted to ruin the country by +free trade." + +Sophia ceased to take the initiative. She still endeavoured to respect +the understanding of a girl of whom she had heard that when her father's +fortunes were at a low ebb she had retrieved them by good management and +personal industry--a girl, too, who through years of toil had preserved +sprightliness and perfect gentility. What though this gentility was +somewhat cramped by that undue importance given to trifles which is +often the result of a remote life; it was still a very lovely thing, a +jewel shining all the more purely for its iron setting of honest labour. +Sophia fought with the scorn that was thrusting itself into her heart as +she listened when Miss Bennett now talked in a charming way about the +public characters and incidents which interested her. + +"I wish for your sake, Miss Rexford," she said, "that some of the Royal +family would come out again. The only time that there is any real +advantage in being in a colony is when some of them come out; for here, +you know, they take notice of every one." + +"One would still be on the general level then," said Sophia, smiling. + +"Well, I don't know. It makes one feel distinguished, you know, in spite +of that. Now, when the Prince was out, he stopped here for a night, and +we had a ball. It was simply delightful! He danced with us all--I mean +with all who could claim to be ladies, and indeed with some who could +not; but how could _he_ discriminate? There was a man called Blake, who +kept a butcher's shop here then--you may have noticed we haven't such a +thing as a butcher's shop in the village now, Miss Rexford?" + +"Indeed I have. It seems so odd." + +"Blake had a handsome daughter; and when we had a ball for the Prince, +didn't he buy her a fine dress, and take her to it! She really looked +very handsome." + +"I hope the Prince danced with her," laughed Sophia. Her good spirits +were rising, in spite of herself, under the influence of the liveliness +with which Miss Bennett's mind had darted, birdlike, into its own +element. + +"_Yes_, he did. Wasn't it good-natured of him! I believe his +aide-de-camp told him who she was; but he was so gracious; he said she +should not go away mortified. I never spoke to her myself; but I've no +doubt she was unable to open her mouth without betraying her origin; but +perhaps on that occasion she had the grace to keep silent, and she +danced fairly well." + +"Was her head turned by the honour?" asked Sophia, led by the other's +tone to expect a sequel to the tale. + +"Poor girl! The end was sadder than that. She caught a violent cold, +from wearing a dress cut low when she wasn't accustomed to it, and she +died in a week. When we heard of it I was glad that he _had_ danced with +her; but some were cruel enough to say that it served Blake right for +his presumption. He was so broken-hearted he left the place. The dress +she wore that night was a green silk, and he had her buried in it; and +some one told the Prince, and he sent some flowers. Wasn't it sweet of +him! They were buried with her too. It was quite romantic." + +"More romantic to have such a swan-like death than to live on as a +butcher's daughter," said Sophia, and sarcasm was only a small +ingredient in the speech. + +"We were quite grieved about it," said Miss Bennett, sincerely. + +Sophia also felt sorry, but it was not her way to say so. She was more +interested in remarking upon the singular method of getting butcher's +meat then in vogue at Chellaston. A Frenchman, a butcher in a small way, +drove from door to door with his stock, cutting and weighing his joints +in an open box-sleigh. To see the frozen meat thus manipulated in the +midst of the snow had struck Sophia as one of the most novel features of +their present way of life. Miss Bennett, however, could hardly be +expected to feel its picturesqueness. Her parents did not fancy this +vendor's meat, and at present they usually killed their own. Her father, +she said, had grown quite dexterous in the art. + +"Really!" cried Sophia. This was an item of real interest, for it +suggested to her for the first time the idea that a gentleman could +slaughter an ox. She was not shocked; it was simply a new idea, which +she would have liked to enlarge on; but good-breeding forbade, for Miss +Bennett preferred to chat about the visit of the Prince, and she +continued to do so in a manner so lively that Sophia found it no dull +hearing. + +"And, do you know," she cried, "what Bertha Nash did? The Nashes, you +know, are of quite a common family, although, as Dr. Nash is everybody's +doctor, of course we are all on good terms with them. Well, Bertha asked +the Prince how his mother was!" She stopped. + +"I suppose he knew whom she was talking about?" + +"Oh, that was the worst of it--he couldn't _help knowing_," cried Miss +Bennett. "I should have sunk through the floor with mortification if I +had done such a thing. I should have expected to be arrested on the spot +for high treason. Bertha says, you know, that she was so nervous at the +thought of who her partner was that she didn't know what she was saying; +but I scarcely think she knew really how to address him. One can never +be thankful enough, I'm sure, for having been thoroughly well brought +up." + +She went on to explain what had been her own sensations when first +accosted by this wonderful Prince, upon being led out by him, and so on. +It all sounded like a new fairy tale; but afterwards, when she had gone, +with cordial wishes, as she took leave, that another prince might come +soon and dance with Sophia, the latter felt as if she had been reading a +page of an old-fashioned history which took account only of kings and +tournaments. + +This visit was a distinct disappointment on the whole. Sophia had hoped +more from it, and coming after weeks that had been trying, it had power +to depress. It was late afternoon now, and the day was the last in the +year. Sophia, going upstairs to get rid of the noise of the children, +was arrested by the glow of the sunset, and, weary as she was, stood +long by the diamond window that was set in the wooden wall of her room. +It was cold. She wrapped a cloak about her. She did not at first look +observantly at the glow and beauty outside. Her eyes wandered over the +scene, the bright colour upon it rousing just enough interest to keep +her standing there: her thoughts were within. + +Sophia Rexford had set herself, like many a saint of olden and modern +times, to crush within her all selfishness; and the result had been the +result of all such effort when it is staunch and honest--to show that +that against which she was warring was no mere mood or bad habit, to be +overcome by directing the life on a nobler plan, but a living thing, +with a vitality so strong that it seemed as if God Himself must have +given it life. She stood now baffled, as she had often been before, by +her invincible enemy. Where was the selfless temper of mind that was her +ideal? Certainly not within her. She was too candid to suppose for a +moment that the impatient scorn she felt for those with whom she had +been talking approached in any way to that humility and love that are +required of the Christian. She felt overwhelmed by surging waves of evil +within. It was at the source the fountain ought to be sweet, and there +ambition and desire for pleasure rose still triumphant; and the current +of her will, set against them, seemed only to produce, not their +abatement, but a whirlpool of discontent, which sucked into itself all +natural pleasures, and cast out around its edge those dislikes and +disdains which were becoming habitual in her intercourse with others. It +was all wrong--she knew it. She leaned her head against the cold pane, +and her eyes grew wet with tears. + +There is no sorrow on earth so real as this; no other for which such +bitter tears have been shed; no other which has so moved the heart of +God with sympathy. Yet there came to Sophia just then a strange thought +that her tears were unnecessary, that the salvation of the world was +something better than this conflict, that the angels were looking upon +her discouragement in pained surprise. + +She had no understanding with which to take in this thought. As she +looked at it, with her soul's eye dim, it passed away; and she, trying +in vain to recall the light that it seemed to hold, wondered if it would +come again. + +Perhaps the tears had given relief to her brain; perhaps some Divine +Presence had come near her, giving hope that she could not weigh or +measure or call by name; at any rate, as she looked round again with +fresh glance, the scene outside seemed fairer than it had yet appeared +to her. + +A long strip had been swept on the ice of the river by pleasure-loving +hands. Down this burnished path young men and maidens were skating, and +their way was paved with gold. There was soft tinting of this same light +on the undulations of the pearly land beyond; blue shadows were in its +woods, and reflected fire on many a window of the houses that clustered +near and far. She knew that in each house that was a true Canadian home +there was joyous preparations going on for the next day's fete. She +wondered what it would be like to be at home in this country, to be one +in its sports and festivities. She could not see from her attic window +the land on this side of the river, but she heard the shouts of some +boys who were spending their holiday at the college. They were at some +game or other in a field near. Sophia liked to hear them. + +Just then Mrs. Rexford came upstairs to consult her about something. She +joined in the outlook for a few moments, and the sunset made her +reflective. + +"Well, my love," said she, "last year at this time we did not know we +should be here to-day! Ah, Sophia, it is always a little doleful to see +the Old Year go out; but here, where there are no bells in the churches, +it will seem less solemn." + +END OF BOOK I. + + + + +BOOK II. + + "_Necessity, like light's electric force, + Is in ourselves and all things, and no more + Without us than within us_--." + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The bells have solemn sound that from old belfries ring the passing of +the year in the hearing of thousands; but perhaps it is a more solemn +thing to watch and tell the birth of a new year by the march of stars +that look down out of their purple void upon a land of trackless snow. +If ceremony and the united sentiment of many hearts have impressive +effect, they yet tend to lighten the burden of individual +responsibility, which presses with weight, like the weight of the +atmosphere upon a vacuum, when a man tries to grapple with his own soul +in solitude. + +Alec Trenholme was spending another wakeful night in the living-room of +his small railway station. Winter lay around him. For a month the +blueberry flats and bramble thickets had been wholly lost under the +snow, which stretched far whiter than the pure white of the birch trees +in the nearest groves. Now the last night but one of the old year had +brought a fresh downfall, unusually heavy; the long, straight railway +track, and the sleigh-road which was kept open between the station and +Turrifs Settlement, had been obliterated by it. Alec Trenholme had awoke +that morning to observe that his little station of new wood, and the +endless line of rough telegraph poles, were the only remaining signs of +man's lordship of earth, as far as his eyes could see. It was upon this +sight, when the snow clouds had fled, that he had seen a scarlet sun +come up; over the same scene he had watched it roll its golden chariot +all day, and, tinging the same unbroken drifts, it had sunk scarlet +again in the far southwest. He had not been far from his house, and no +one, in train, or sleigh, or on snow-shoes, had happened to come near +it. + +He would have gone himself to Turrifs for milk, for the pleasure of +exchanging a word with his fellow-men, and for air and exercise, had it +not been that he had hourly expected to see an engine, with its +snow-plough, approaching on the rails. Conversation by telegraph would +have been a relief to him, but the wires seemed to have succumbed in +more than one place to their weight of snow, and there was nothing for +this young station-master to do but wait, and believe that communication +would be re-established over the road and the wires sooner or later. In +the meantime he suffered no personal inconvenience, unless loneliness +can be thus named, for he had abundance of food and fuel. He watched the +bright day wane and the sun of the old year set, and filled his stove +with wood, and ate his supper, and told himself that he was a very +fortunate fellow and much better off than a large proportion of men. + +It is not always when we tell ourselves that we are well off that we are +happiest: that self-addressed assertion often implies some tacit +contradiction. + +When darkness came he wondered if he should put on his snow-shoes and +run over to Turrifs. Yet for some reason he did not go, in the way that +men so often do not do things that they think on the whole would be very +good things to do. An hour or two later he knew that the good people +there would have gone to bed and that he had no longer the option of +going. He did not go to bed himself. He had not had enough exercise that +day to make him sleepy; and then, too, he thought he would sit up and +see the old year out. He had an indistinct idea that it was rather a +virtuous thing to do, rather more pious than sleeping the night through +just as if it were any other night. He put his much-handled, oft-read +books down before him on the table, and set himself to passing the +evening with them. Midnight is actually midnight when the sun goes down +before five o'clock and there is no artificial interest for the after +hours. + +Most men have more religion at heart, latent or developed, than can be +seen by others. When they have not, when what shows is as much as what +is--God pity them! + +Alec Trenholme was not given to self-dissection or to expression of his +private sentiments, therefore neither to himself nor to others was the +religion of him very visible. Nevertheless, this evening his books, +which had become not less but more to him because he had read them +often, palled upon his taste. When he was a boy his father had taught +him that at New Year's time one ought to consider whether the past had +been spent well, and how the future could be spent better. So, as time +went on, he pushed his books further and set himself to this +consideration. For a while he sat looking at his own doings only by the +light, as it were, of two candles--the one, of expediency; the other, of +rectitude. Had he been wise? Had he been good? + +Not being of a contemplative or egotistical disposition, he soon +fidgeted. Thinking he heard a sound outside, which might be wind rising, +or might be the distant approach of the iron snow-plough, he got up to +look out. The small panes of his window were so obscured by frostwork +that he did not attempt to look through the glass, but opened his door. +Far or near there was no sign of rising wind or coming engine; only, +above, the glowing stars, with now and then a shaft of northern light +passing majestically beneath them, and, below, the great white world, +dim, but clearly seen as it reflected the light. The constellations +attracted his attention. There hung Orion, there the Pleiades, there +those mists of starlight which tell us of space and time of which we +cannot conceive. Standing, looking upwards, he suddenly believed himself +to be in the neighbourhood of God. + +When the keen air upon his bare head had driven him indoors, he sat down +again to formulate his good resolutions, he found that his candles of +expediency and morality had gone out. The light which was there instead +was the Presence of God; but so diffused was this light, so dim, that it +was as hard for him now to see distinction between right and wrong as +it would have been outside upon the snow to see a shadow cast by rays +which had left their stars half a century before. All, all of which he +could think seemed wrong, because it was not God; all, all of which he +could think seemed right, because it was part of God. The young man's +face sank on his arms and lay buried there, while he thought, and +thought, and thought, trying to bring a life of which he could think +into relation with that which is unthinkable. + +Was ever reverie more vain! He raised his head and stared about him. The +glaring lamp showed all the details of the room, and made it seem so +real, so much more real than mere thoughts, let alone that of which one +cannot think. He got up to alter the stove-damper, pushing it shut with +a clatter of iron, burning his fingers slightly, and sat down again, +feeling it a relief to know, if by the smart, that he had touched +something. + +The wood within the stove ceased blazing when the damper was shut, and +when its crackling was silenced there was a great quiet. The air outside +was still; the flame of the lamp could hardly make sound. Trenholme's +watch, which lay on the table, ticked and seemed to clamour for his +attention. He glanced down at it. It was not very far from midnight. + +Just then he heard another sound. It was possibly the same as that which +came to him an hour ago, but more continuous. There was no mistaking +this time that it was an unusual one. It seemed to him like a human +voice in prolonged ejaculatory speech at some distance. + +Startled, he again looked out of his door. At first he saw nothing, but +what he had seen before--the world of snow, the starry skies. Yet the +sound, which stopped and again went on, came to him as if from the +direction in which he looked. Looking, listening intently, he was just +about to turn in for his coat and snow-shoes in order to go forth and +seek the owner of the voice, when he perceived something moving between +him and the nearest wood--that very birch wood in which, more than a +month before, he had sought for the man Cameron who had disappeared from +his own coffin. In an instant the mood of that time flashed back on him +as if there had been nothing between. + +All the search that had been made for Cameron in the first days of the +snow had resulted in nothing but the finding of his coarse winding-sheet +in this birch wood. Then and since, confused rumours had come that he +was wandering from village to village, but no one had been brave enough +to detain him. Trenholme knew that people on the railway line to the +south believed firmly that the old man was still alive, or that his +ghost walked. Now, as his eyes focussed more intently upon the moving +thing, it looked to him like a man. + +Again he heard the sound of a voice, a man's voice certainly. It was +raised for the space of a minute in a sort of chant, not loud enough for +him to hear any word or to know what language was spoken. + +"Hi!" cried Trenholme at the top of his voice. "Hi, there! What do you +want?" + +There was no doubt that a man out there could have heard, yet, whatever +the creature was, it took not the slightest notice of the challenge. + +As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light he saw that the figure was +moving on the top of the deep snow near the outskirts of the +wood--moving about in an aimless way, stopping occasionally, and +starting again, raising the voice sometimes, and again going on in +silence. Trenholme could not descry any track left on the snow; all that +he could see was a large figure dressed in garments which, in the +starlight, did not seem to differ very much in hue from the snow, and he +gained the impression that the head was thrown back and the face +uplifted to the stars. + +He called again, adjuring the man he saw to come at once and say why he +was there and what he wanted. No attention was paid to him; he might as +well have kept silent. + +A minute or two more and he went in, shut and bolted his door, even +took the trouble to see that the door of the baggage-room was secured. +He took his lamp down from the wall where, by its tin reflector, it hung +on a nail, and set it on the table for company. He opened the damper of +the stove again, so that the logs within crackled. Then he sat down and +began to read the Shakespeare he had pushed from him before. What he had +seen and heard seemed to him very curious. No obligation rested upon +him, certainly, to go out and seek this weird-looking creature. There +was probably nothing supernatural, but--well, while a man is alone it is +wisest to shut out all that has even the appearance of the supernatural +from his house and from his mind. So Trenholme argued, choosing the +satirical fool of the Forest of Arden to keep him company. + +"Now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a +better place: but travellers must be content." + +Trenholme smiled. He had actually so controlled his mind as to become +lost in his book. + +There was a sound as if of movement on the light snow near by and of +hard breathing. Trenholme's senses were all alert again now as he turned +his head to listen. When the moving figure had seemed so indifferent to +his calls, what reason could it have now for seeking his door--unless, +indeed, it were a dead man retracing his steps by some mysterious +impulse, such as even the dead might feel? Trenholme's heart beat low +with the thought as he heard a heavy body bump clumsily against the +baggage-room door and a hand fumble at its latch. There was enough light +shining through his window to have shown any natural man that the small +door of his room was the right one by which to enter, yet the fumbling +at the other door continued. + +Trenholme went into the dark baggage-room and heard the stir against the +door outside. He went near it. Whoever was there went on fumbling to +find some way of entrance. + +By this time, if Trenholme had suffered any shock of dismay, he had +righted himself, as a ship rights itself after shuddering beneath a +wave. Clearly it now came within his province to find out what the +creature wanted; he went back into his room and opened its outer door. + +Extending beyond the wall, the flooring of the house made a little +platform outside, and, as the opening of the door illuminated this, a +man came quietly across the threshold with clumsy gait. This man was no +ghost. What fear of the supernatural had gathered about Trenholme's mind +fell off from it instantly in self-scorn. The stranger was tall and +strong, dressed in workman's light-coloured clothes, with a big, +somewhat soiled bit of white cotton worn round his shoulders as a shawl. +He carried in his hand a fur cap such as Canadian farmers wear; his grey +head was bare. What was chiefly remarkable was that he passed Trenholme +without seeming to see him, and stood in the middle of the room with a +look of expectation. His face, which was rugged, with a glow of +weather-beaten health upon it, had a brightness, a strength, an +eagerness, a sensibility, which were indescribable. + +"Well?" asked Trenholme rather feebly; then reluctantly he shut the +door, for all the cold of the night was pouring in. Neither of him nor +of his words or actions did the old man take the slightest notice. + +The description that had been given of old Cameron was fulfilled in the +visitor; but what startled Trenholme more than this likeness, which +might have been the result of mere chance, was the evidence that this +man was not a person of ordinary senses and wits. He seemed like one who +had passed through some crisis, which had deprived him of much, and +given him perhaps more. It appeared probable, from his gait and air, +that he was to some extent blind; but the eagerness of the eyes and the +expression of the aged face were enough to suggest at once, even to an +unimaginative mind, that he was looking for some vision of which he did +not doubt the reality and listening for sounds which he longed to hear. +He put out a large hand and felt the table as he made his clumsy way +round it. He looked at nothing in the room but the lamp on the table +where Trenholme had lately put it. Trenholme doubted, however, if he saw +it or anything else. When he got to the other side, having wandered +behind the reflector, he stopped, as if perhaps the point of light, +dimly seen, had guided him so far but now was lost. + +Trenholme asked him why he had come, what his name was, and several such +questions. He raised his voice louder and louder, but he might as well +have talked to the inanimate things about him. This one other human +being who had entered his desolate scene took, it would seem, no +cognisance of him at all. Just as we know that animals in some cases +have senses for sights and sounds which make no impression on human eyes +and ears, and are impervious to what we see and hear, so it seemed to +Trenholme that the man before him had organs of sense dead to the world +about him, but alive to something which he alone could perceive. It +might have been a fantastic idea produced by the strange circumstances, +but it certainly was an idea which leaped into his mind and would not be +reasoned away. He did not feel repulsion for the poor wanderer, or fear +of him; he felt rather a growing attraction--in part curiosity, in part +pity, in part desire for whatever it might be that had brought the look +of joyous expectancy into the aged face. This look had faded now to some +extent. The old man stood still, as one who had lost his way, not +seeking for indications of that which he had lost, but looking right +forwards and upwards, steadily, calmly, as if sure that something would +appear. + +Trenholme laid a strong hand upon his arm. "Cameron!" he shouted, to see +if that name would rouse him. The arm that he grasped felt like a rock +for strength and stillness. The name which he shouted more than once did +not seem to enter the ears of the man who had perhaps owned it in the +past. He shook off Trenholme's hand gently without turning towards him. + +"Ay," he said. (His voice was strong.) Then he shook his head with a +patient sigh. "Not here," he said, "not here." He spoke as deaf men +speak, unconscious of the key of their own voice. Then he turned +shuffling round the table again, and seemed to be seeking for the door. + +"Look here," said Trenholme, "don't go out." Again he put his hand +strongly on his visitor, and again he was quietly brushed aside. The +outside seemed so terribly cold and dark and desolate for this poor old +man to wander in, that Trenholme was sorry he should go. Yet go he did, +opening the door and shutting it behind him. + +Trenholme's greatcoat, cap, and snow-shoes were hanging against the +wall. He put them on quickly. When he got out the old man was fumbling +for something outside, and Trenholme experienced a distinct feeling of +surprise when he saw him slip his feet into an old pair of snow-shoes +and go forth on them. The old snow-shoes had only toe-straps and no +other strings, and the feat of walking securely upon seemed almost as +difficult to the young Englishman as walking on the sea of frozen atoms +without them; but still, the fact that the visitor wore them made him +seem more companionable. + +Trenholme supposed that the traveller was seeking some dwelling-place, +and that he would naturally turn either up the road to Turrifs or toward +the hills; instead of that, he made again for the birch wood, walking +fast with strong, elastic stride. Trenholme followed him, and they went +across acres of billowy snow. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Why Alec Trenholme followed the old man toward the wood he himself would +have found it a little difficult to tell. If this was really Cameron he +did not wish that he should escape; but, at the same time, he saw no +means of keeping him against his will, unless he went of his own accord +to some place where other men could be called to help. Quite apart, +however, from the question whether the stranger was Cameron or not, +Trenholme felt for him a sort of respect which character alone inspires, +and which character written in a man's appearance has often power to +inspire without a word or action to interpret it further. It was because +of this that curiosity to know where he was going and what for, and a +real solicitude as to what would happen to him, were strong enough to +lead the young man on. + +They who have not walked upon snow by starlight do not know, perhaps, +that the chief difficulty of such progress is that there is no shadow; +perhaps they do not even know that at all times the difference between +an upward and a downward slope is revealed to the eye by light and +shade. The snow on which the two men were now walking had been left by +the wind with slight undulations of surface, such as are produced in a +glassy sea by the swing of a gentle under-swell; and Trenholme, not +sensitive as the stranger seemed to be in the points of his snow-shoes, +found himself stepping up when he thought himself stepping down, and the +reverse. At last he stumbled and fell. + +It is not a matter of ease to rise from a bed which yields endlessly to +every pressure of arm or knee. Even a sea-bird, that strongest of +flyers, finds it hard to rise from any but its own element; and before +Trenholme had managed to spring up, as it were, from nothing, the man in +front had in some way become aware of his presence for the first time, +and of his fall; he turned and lifted him up with a strong hand. When +Trenholme was walking again the other retained a firm hold of his arm, +looked at him earnestly, and spoke to him. His words expressed a +religious idea which was evidently occupying his whole mind. + +"The Lord is coming presently to set up His kingdom," he said. "Are you +ready to meet Him?" + +On Alec Trenholme the effect of these words, more unexpected than any +other words could have been, was first and chiefly to convince him that +he was dealing with a witless person. Leaving him again, the speaker had +hurried on in front, making his way still toward the wood. When +Trenholme came up with him the wanderer had evidently found the place +where he had been before, for there was the irregular circular track of +his former wandering upon the snow. Trenholme counted himself a fool to +have been able before to suppose that there was no track because he had +not seen it. But he had hardly time for even this momentary glance at so +small a matter, for the old man was standing with face uplifted to the +stars, and he was praying aloud that the Divine Son of Man would return +to earth and set up His kingdom. + +Sometimes there was more light upon the dark scene, sometimes less, for +giant rays of the northern light stalked the sky, passing from it, +coming again, giving light faintly. + +Trenholme felt an uncontrollable excitement come over him. His mind was +carried out of himself, not so much to the poor man who was praying, as +to the Divine Man to whom the supplication was addressed; for the voice +of prayer spoke directly from the heart of the speaker to One who he +evidently felt was his friend. The conviction of this other man that he +knew to whom he was speaking caught hold of Alec Trenholme's mind with +mastering force; he had no conviction of his own; he was not at all +sure, as men count certainty, whether there was, or was not, any ear but +his own listening to the other's words; but he did not notice his own +belief or unbelief in the matter, any more than he noticed the air +between him and the stars. The colourlessness of his own mind took on +for the time the colour of the other's. + +And the burden of the prayer was this: Our Father, thy kingdom come. +Even so, come, Lord Jesus. + +The hardihood of the prayer was astonishing; all tender arguments of +love were used, all reasonable arguments as of friend with friend and +man with man, and its lengthened pathos was such that Trenholme felt +his heart torn for pity within him. + +"Look here!" he said at last. (He had been listening he knew not how +long, but the planets in the sky above had moved westward. He took hold +of the old man.) "Look here! He won't come so that you can see Him; but +He's here just the same, you know." + +The only result was that the old man ceased speaking aloud, and +continued as if in silent prayer. + +It seemed irreverent to interrupt him. Trenholme stood again irresolute, +but he knew that for himself at least it was madness to stand longer +without exercise in the keen night. + +"Come, Lord Jesus!" cried the old man again in loud anguish. "Come. The +world is needing only Thee. We are so wicked, so foolish, so weak--we +need Thee. Come!" + +Whether or not his companion had the full use of eyes and ears, +Trenholme was emboldened by the memory of the help he had received on +his fall to believe that he could make himself heard and understood. He +shouted as if to one deaf: "The Lord is here. He is with you now, only +you can't see Him. You needn't stay here. I don't know who you are, but +come into my place and get warmed and fed." + +"How do you know He is here?" asked the old man, shaking his head +slowly. + +"Everybody knows that." + +"I can't hear." + +"Everybody knows," shouted Trenholme. + +"How do you know? What do you know?" asked the other, shaking his head +sorrowfully. + +Trenholme would have given much to comfort him. He tried to drag him by +main force in the direction of the house. The old man yielded himself a +few steps, then drew back, asking, + +"Why do you say He is here?" + +"Because" (Trenholme called out his words in the same high key) "before +He died, and after, He said He would always be with His servants. Don't +you believe what He said?" + +Again the old man yielded a few paces, evidently listening and hearing +with difficulty, perhaps indeed only hearing one or two words that +attracted him. + +"Did the Lord say it to _you_?" he asked eagerly. + +"No." + +There was blank disappointment shown instantly. They had come to a +standstill again. + +"Do you know him?" The strong old face was peering eagerly into his, as +if it had not been dark. "Have you heard his voice?" + +"I don't know," answered Trenholme, half angrily. + +Without another word the old man shook him off, and turned once more to +the starry sky above. + +"Lord Jesus!" he prayed, "this man has never heard thy voice. They who +have heard Thee know thy voice--they know, O Lord, they know." He +retraced all the steps he had taken with Trenholme and continued in +prayer. + +After that, although Trenholme besought and commanded, and tried to draw +him both by gentleness and force, he obtained no further notice. It was +not that he was repulsed, but that he met with absolute neglect. The old +man was rock-like in his physical strength. + +Trenholme looked round about, but there was certainly no help to be +obtained. On the one side he saw the birch wood indistinctly; the white +trunks half vanished from sight against the white ground, but the brush +of upper branches hung like the mirage of a forest between heaven and +earth. All round was the wild region of snow. From his own small house +the lamp which he had left on the table shot out a long bright ray +through a chink in the frostwork on the window. It occurred to him that +when he had fetched down the lamp it was probably this ray, sudden and +unexpected in such a place, that had attracted his strange visitor to +his house. Had his poor dazed brain accepted it as some sign of the +glorious appearing for which he waited? + +Trenholme looked again at his companion. It mattered nothing to him who +or what he was; he would have done much to still that pleading voice and +pacify him, but since he could not do this, he would go for a little +while out of sight and hearing. He was fast growing numb with the fierce +cold. He would come back and renew his care, but just now he would go +home. He walked fast, and gained his own door with blood that ran less +chill. + +He heaped his stove with fresh logs, and set on food to warm, in the +hope that the stranger might eventually partake of it, and then, opening +the stove door to get the full benefit of the blaze, he sat down for a +little while to warm himself. He looked at his watch, as it lay on the +table, with that glance of interest which we cast at a familiar thing +which has lain in the same place while our minds have undergone +commotion and change. Midnight had passed since he went out, and it was +now nearly two o'clock. + +Whether it was that the man with whom he had been, possessed that power, +which great actors involuntarily possess, of imposing their own moods on +others, or whether it was that, coming into such strange companionship +after his long loneliness, his sympathies were the more easily awakened, +Trenholme was suffering from a misery of pity; and in pity for another +there weighed a self-pity which was quite new to him. To have seen the +stalwart old man, whose human needs were all so evident to Trenholme's +eyes, but to his own so evidently summed up in that one need which was +the theme of the prayer he was offering in obstinate agony, was an +experience which for the time entirely robbed him of the power of seeing +the elements of life in that proportion to which his mind's eye had +grown accustomed--that is, seeing the things of religion as a shadowy +background for life's important activities. + +The blazing logs through the open stove door cast flickering flamelight +upon the young man, who was restlessly warming himself, shifting his +position constantly, as a man must who tries to warm himself too +hastily. A traveller read in ancient lore, coming suddenly on this cabin +amid its leagues of snow, and looking in to see its light and warmth and +the goodly figure of its occupant, might have been tempted to think that +the place had been raised by some magician's wand, and would vanish +again when the spell was past. And to Alec Trenholme, just then, the +station to which he was so habituated, the body which usually seemed the +larger part of himself, might have been no more than a thought or a +dream, so intent was he upon another sort of reality. He was regardless +of it all, even of the heat that, at the same time, scorched him and +made him shiver. He thought of the words that he--he, Alec +Trenholme--had lifted up his voice to say, waking the echoes of the +snow-muffled silence with proclamation of--He tried not to remember what +he had proclaimed, feeling crushed with a new knowledge of his own +falseness; and when perforce the thought came upon him of the invisible +Actor in the night's drama whose presence, whose action, he had been so +strenuously asserting, he was like a man in pain who does not know what +remedy to try; and his mood was tense, he sought only relief. He essayed +one thought and another to reason away the cloud that was upon him; and +then he tried saying his prayers, which of late had fallen somewhat into +disuse. It was only by way of a try to see if it would do any good; and +he did not give himself much time, for he felt that he must go out again +to try to bring in the old man. + +Before he had put on his fur cap a second time, however, he heard the +whistle of the engine he had been expecting now for nearly twenty-four +hours. It came like a sudden trumpet-sound from the outside world to +call him back to his ordinary thoughts and deeds. For the first moment +he felt impatient at it; the second he was glad, for there would +certainly be some one with it who could aid him in using force, if +necessary, to bring the old man to spend the remainder of the night +within doors. + +Trenholme saw the black and fiery monster come on into his dark and +silent white world. It shook a great plume of flaming smoke above its +snorting head, and by the light of the blazing jewel in its front he saw +that the iron plough it drove before it was casting the snow in misty +fountains to right and left. + +When the engine stopped, Trenholme found that there was a small car with +it, containing about twenty men sent to dig out the drifts where snow +sheds had given way. These were chiefly French Canadians of a rather low +type. The engine-driver was a Frenchman too; but there was a brisk +English-speaking man whose business it was to set the disordered +telegraph system to rights. He came into the station-room to test its +condition at this point of the route. As there was a stove in their car, +only a few of the men straggled in after him. At a larger place the +party might have been tempted to tarry, but here they had no thought of +stopping an unnecessary moment. Trenholme had no time to lose, and yet +he hardly knew how to state his case. He sought the Englishman, who was +at the little telegraph table. The engineer and some others lounged +near. He began by recalling the incident of the dead man's +disappearance. Every one connected with the railway in those parts had +heard that story. + +"And look here!" said he, "as far as one can judge by description, he +has come back again here to-night." All who could understand were +listening to him now. "See here!" he urged addressing the brisk +telegraph man, "I'm afraid he will freeze to death in the snow. He's +quite alive, you know--alive as you are; but I want help to bring him +in." + +The other was attending to his work as well as to Trenholme. "Why can't +he come in?" + +"He won't. I think he's gone out of his mind. He'll die if he's left. +It's a matter of life or death, I tell you. He's too strong for me to +manage alone. Someone must come too." + +The brisk man looked at the engineer, and the French engineer looked at +him. + +"What's he doing out there?" + +"He's just out by the wood." + +It ended in the two men finding snow-shoes and going with Trenholme +across the snow. + +They all three peered through the dimness at the space between them and +the wood, and they saw nothing. They retraced the snow-shoe tracks and +came to the place where the irregular circuit had been made near the end +of the wood. There was no one there. They held up a lantern and flashed +it right and left, they shouted and wandered, searching into the edge of +the wood. The old man was not to be found. + +"I dare say," said the telegraph man to Trenholme, "you'd do well to get +into a place where you don't live quite so much alone. 'T'aint good for +you." + +The whole search did not take more than twenty minutes. The railway-men +went back at a quick pace. Trenholme went with them, insisting only that +they should look at the track of the stranger's snow-shoes, and admit +that it was not his own track. + +The French engineer was sufficiently superstitious to lend a half belief +to the idea that the place was haunted, and that was his reason for +haste. The electrician was only sorry that so much time had been purely +wasted; that was his reason. He was a middle-aged man, spare, quick, and +impatient, but he looked at Alec Trenholme in the light of the engine +lamp, when they came up to it, with some kindly interest. + +"I say," he went on again, "don't you go on staying here alone--a +good-looking fellow like you. You don't look to me like a chap to have +fancies if you weren't mewed up alone." + +As Trenholme saw the car carried from him, saw the faces and forms of +the men who stood at its door disappear in the darkness, and watched the +red light at its back move slowly on, leaving a lengthening road of +black rails behind it, he felt more mortified at the thought of the +telegraph man's compassion than he cared to own, even to himself. + +He went out again, and hunted with a lantern till he found a track +leading far into the wood in the opposite direction from his house. +This, then, was the way the old man had gone. He followed the track for +a mile, but never came within sight or sound of the man who made it. + +At last it joined the railway line, and where the snow was rubbed smooth +he could not trace it. Probably the old man had taken off his snow-shoes +here, and his light moccasins had left no mark that could be seen in the +night. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +For two nights after that Alec Trenholme kept his lamp lit all night, +placing it in his window so that all the light that could struggle +through the frosted panes should cast an inviting ray into the night. He +did this in the hope that the old man might still be wandering in the +neighbourhood; but it was soon ascertained that this was not the case; +the stranger had been seen by no one else in Turrifs Settlement. Though +it was clear, from reports that came, that he was the same who had +visited other villages and been accepted as the missing Cameron, nothing +more was heard of him, and it seemed that he had gone now off the lines +of regular communication--unless, indeed, he had the power of appearing +and disappearing at will, which was the popular view of his case. +Turrifs Station had become notorious. Trenholme received jeers and gibes +even by telegraph from neighbouring stations. He had given account to no +one of the midnight visit, but inventive curiosity had supplied details +of a truly wonderful nature. It was not on this account that he gave up +his situation on the line, but because a new impulse had seized him, and +he had no particular reason for remaining. He waited till a new +caretaker arrived from the headquarters of the railway, and then set +forth from the station the following morning on foot. + +Turrif had been laid up with some complaint for a week or two, and Alec +went to say good-bye to him. The roads had been opened up again. He had +his snow-shoes on his back, and some clothes in a small pack. + +Turrif's wife opened the door, and Trenholme disburdened himself and +went and sat by the bed. The little children were about, as usual, in +blue gowns; he had made friends in the house since his first supper +there, so they stood near now, and laughed at him a great deal without +being afraid. In the long large wooden room, the mother and eldest girl +pursued the housework of the morning tranquilly. Turrif lay upon a bed +in one corner. The baby's cradle, a brown box on rockers, was close to +the bed, and when the child stirred the father put out his hand and +rocked it. The child's head was quite covered with the clothes, so that +Trenholme wondered how it could breathe. He sat by the foot of the bed, +and Turrif talked to him in his slow English. + +"You are wise to go--a young man and genteel-man like you." + +"I know you think I was a fool to take the place, but a man might as +well earn his bread-and-butter while he is looking round the country." + +"You have looked round at this bit of country for two months"--with a +shrug of the shoulders. "I should have sought your bright eyes could see +all what sere is to see in two days." + +"You'll think me a greater fool when you know where I am going." + +"I hope" (Turrif spoke with a shade of greater gravity on his placid +face)--"I hope sat you are going to some city where sere is money to be +made, and where sere is ladies and other genteel-men like you." + +"I knew you would think me mad. I'm going to Bates's clearing to cut +down his trees." + +"Why?" The word came with a certain authority. + +"You would almost be justified in writing to the authorities to lock me +up in an asylum, wouldn't you? But just consider what an awful condition +of loneliness that poor wretch must be in by this time. You think I've +been more alone than's good for me; think of him, shut up with an old +woman in her dotage. He was awfully cut up about this affair of old +Cameron and the girl, and he is losing all his winter's lumbering for +want of a man. Now, there's a fix, if you will, where I say a man is to +be pitied." + +"Yes," said Turrif, gravely, "it is sad; but sat is _hees_ trouble." + +"Look here: he's not thirty miles away, and you and I know that if he +isn't fit to cut his throat by this time it isn't for want of trouble to +make him, and you say that that state of things ought to be only his own +affair?" + +"Eh?" + +"Well, I say that you and I, or at least I, have something to do with +it. You know very well I might go round here for miles, and offer a +hundred pounds, and I couldn't get a single man to go and work for +Bates; they're all scared. Well, if they're scared of a ghost, let them +stay away; but _I'm_ not frightened, and I suppose I could learn to chop +down trees as well as any of them. He's offered good wages; I can take +his wages and do his work, and save him from turning into a blethering +idiot." + +Probably, in his heat to argue, he had spoken too quickly for the +Frenchman to take in all his words. That his drift was understood and +pondered on was evident from the slow answer. + +"It would be good for Monsieur Bates, but poor for you." + +"I'm not going to turn my back on this country and leave the fellow in +that pickle. I should feel as if his blood were on my head." + +"Since?" + +"How since?" + +"Since what day did you have his care on you? Last time you came you did +not mean sen to help him." It was true, but so strongly did Trenholme +see his point that he had not realised how new was the present aspect of +the case to him. + +"Well," said he, meaning that this was not a matter of importance. + +"But why?" said Turrif again. + +"Oh, I don't know." Trenholme looked down at his moccasined feet. "I +thought" (he gave a laugh as if he were ashamed) "I'd turn over a new +leaf this year, and do something that's more worth doing. I was well +enough off here so far as looking out for myself was concerned." + +Turrif looked at him with kind and serious disapproval. + +"And when will you begin to live se life of a _man_?" + +"How do you mean--'a man'?" + +"When will you make money and get married?" + +"Do you think time is all wasted when one isn't making money and getting +married?" + +"For a _boy_, no; for a _man_, yes." + +Trenholme rose. "Good-bye, and thank you for all your hospitality," said +he. "I'll come back in spring and tell you what I'm going to do next." + +He was moving out, when he looked again at the little shrine in the +middle of the wall, the picture of the Virgin, and, below, the little +altar shelf, with its hideous paper roses. He looked back as it caught +his eye, arrested, surprised, by a difference of feeling in him towards +it. + +Noticing the direction of Trenholme's glance, the Frenchman crossed +himself. + +It was a day of such glory as is only seen amid Northern snowfields. +Alec Trenholme looked up into the sky, and the blue of other skies that +he remembered faded beside it, as the blue of violets fades beside the +blue of gentian flowers. There was no cloud, no hint of vapour; the +sky, as one looked for it, was not there, but it was as if the sight +leaped through the sunlit ether, so clear it was, and saw the dark blue +gulfs of space that were beyond the reach of the sun's lighting. The +earth was not beyond the reach of the sunlight, and in all that wide +white land, in mile after mile of fields, of softened hillock and buried +hollow, there was not a frozen crystal that did not thrill to its centre +with the sunlight and throw it back in a soft glow of myriad rays. + +Trenholme retraced his steps on the road from Turrif's door to a point +nearer his old railway-station; then he put on his snow-shoes and set +out for the gap in the hills that led to the Bates and Cameron clearing. +As he mounted the soft snow that was heaped by the roadside and struck +out across the fields, his heart bounded with a sense of power and +freedom, such as a man might have who found means to walk upon the +ocean. Little need had he of map or guide to mark the turning or +crossing of his road; the gap in the hills was clear to his eyes fifteen +miles away; the world was white, and he strode across it. When the earth +is made up of pearl-dust and sunshine, and the air is pure as the air of +heaven, the heart of man loses all sense of effort, and action is as +spontaneous as breath itself. Trenholme was half-way to the hills before +he felt that he had begun his day's journey. + +When he got past the unbroken snow of the farm lands and the blueberry +flats, the white surface was broken by the tops of brushwood. He did not +take the line of the straight corduroy road; it was more free and +exciting to make a meandering track wherever the snow lay sheer over a +chain of frozen pools that intersected the thickets. There was no +perceptible heat in the rays the sun poured down, but the light was so +great that where the delicate skeletons of the young trees were massed +together it was a relief to let the eye rest upon them. + +That same element of pleasure, relief, was found also in the restful +deadness of the wooded sides of the hills when he came near them. Grey +there was of deciduous trees in the basin of the river, and dull green +of spruce firs that grew up elsewhere. Intense light has the effect of +lack of light, taking colour from the landscape. Even the green of the +fir trees, as they stood in full light on the hill summits, was faded in +comparison with the blue beyond. + +This was while he was in the open plain; but when he walked into the +forest, passing into the gap in the hills, all was changed. The snow, +lightly shadowed by the branches overhead, was more quiet to the sight, +and where his path lay near fir trees, the snow, where fell their heavy +shade, looked so dead and cold and grey that it recalled thoughts of +night-time, or of storm, or of other gloomy things; and this thought of +gloom, which the dense shadow brought, had fascination, because it was +such a wondrous contrast to the rest of the happy valley, in which the +sunbeams, now aslant, were giving a golden tinge to the icy facets of +crags, to high-perched circling drifts, to the basin of unbroken snow, +to the brown of maple trunks, and to the rich verdure of the very firs +which cast the shadow. + +It was after four o'clock in the afternoon when he stopped his steady +tramp, arrested by the sight of the first living things he had seen--a +flock of birds upon a wild vine that, half snow-covered, hung out the +remnant of its frozen berries in a cleft of the hill. The birds did not +fly at his approach, and, going nearer and nearer on the silent snow, he +at last stopped, taking in greedily the sight of their pretty, +fluttering, life. They were rather large birds, large as the missel +thrush; they had thick curved beaks and were somewhat heavy in form; but +the plumage of the males was like the rose-tint of dawn or evening when +it falls lightly upon some grey cloud. They uttered no note, but, busy +with their feast, fluttered and hopped with soft sound of wings. + +In lieu of gun or net, Trenholme broke a branch from a tree beside him, +and climbed nearer to the birds in order to strike one down if +possible. To his surprise, as he advanced deftly with the weapon, the +little creatures only looked at him with bright-eyed interest, and made +no attempt to save themselves. The conviction forced itself upon him +with a certain awe that these birds had never seen a man before. His arm +dropped beside him; something of that feeling which comes to the +explorer when he thinks that he sets his foot where man has never trod +came to him now as he leaned against the snow-bank. The birds, it is +true, had fluttered beyond his arm's length, but they had no thought of +leaving their food. Twice his arm twitched with involuntary impulse to +raise the stick and strike the nearest bird, and twice the impulse +failed him, till he dropped the stick. + +The slight crust which usually forms on snow-banks had broken with the +weight of his figure as he leaned against it, and he lay full length +against the soft slope, enjoying rest upon so downy a couch, until the +birds forgot him, and then he put out his hand and grasped the nearest, +hardly more to its own surprise than to his. The bird feigned dead, as +frightened birds will, and when he was cheated into thinking it dead, it +got away, and it was only by a very quick movement that he caught it +again. He put it in a hanging pocket of his coat, and waited till he +could catch a companion to fill the opposite pocket. + +Thus weighted, he continued his journey. It gave him the cheerful +feeling that a boy has when choice marbles are in his pocket. Neither +birds nor marbles under such circumstances have absolute use, but then +there is always the pleasant time ahead when it will be suitable to take +them out and look at them. The man did not finger his birds as a boy +might have done his marbles, but he did not forget them, and every now +and then he lifted the flaps of the, baggy pockets to refill them with +air. + +He was tramping fast now down the trough of the little valley, under +trees that, though leafless, were thick enough to shut out the +surrounding landscape. The pencils of the evening sunlight, it is true, +found their way all over the rounded snow-ground, but the sunset was +hidden by the branches about him, and nothing but the snow and the tree +trunks was forced upon his eye, except now and then a bit of blue seen +through the branches--a blue that had lost much depth of colour with the +decline of day, and come nearer earth--a pale cold blue that showed +exquisite tenderness of contrast as seen through the dove-coloured grey +of maple boughs. + +Where the valley dipped under water and the lake in the midst of the +hills had its shore, Trenholme came out from under the trees. The sun +had set. The plain of the ice and the snowclad hills looked blue with +cold--unutterably cold, and dead as lightless snow looks when the eye +has grown accustomed to see it animated with light. He could not see +where, beneath the snow, the land ended and the ice began; but it +mattered little. He walked out on the white plain scanning the +south-eastern hill-slope for the house toward which he intended to bend +his steps. He was well out on the lake before he saw far enough round +the first cliff to come in sight of the log house and its clearing, and +no sooner did he see it than he heard his approach, although he was yet +so far away, heralded by the barking of a dog. Before he had gone much +farther a man came forth with a dog to meet him. + +The two men had seen one another before, in the days when the +neighbourhood had turned out in the fruitless search for Cameron's +daughter and for Cameron himself. At that time a fevered eye and haggard +face had been the signs that Bates was taking his misfortune to heart; +now Trenholme looked, half expecting to see the same tokens developed by +solitude into some demonstration of manner; but this was not the case. +His flesh had certainly wasted, and his eye had the excitement of +expectation in it as he met his visitor; but the man was the same man +still, with the stiff, unexpressive manner which was the expression of +his pride. + +Bates spoke of the weather, of the news Trenholme brought from Turrifs +Settlement, of the railway--all briefly, and without warmth of interest; +then he asked why Trenholme had come. + +"You haven't been able to get any one yet to fell your trees for you?" + +Bates replied in the negative. + +"They think the place is dangerous," said the other, as if giving +information, although he knew perfectly that Bates was aware of this. He +had grown a little diffident in stating why he had come. + +"Fools they are!" said Bates, ill-temperedly. + +Trenholme said that he was willing to do the work Bates had wanted a man +for, at the same wages. + +"It's rough work for a gentlemany young man like you." + +Trenholme's face twitched with a peculiar smile. "I can handle an axe. I +can learn to fell trees." + +"I mean, the living is rough, and all that; and of course" (this was +added with suspicious caution) "it wouldn't be worth my while to pay the +same wages to an inexperienced hand." + +Trenholme laughed. This reception was slightly different from what he +had anticipated. He remarked that he might be taken a week on trial, and +to this Bates agreed, not without some further hesitation. Trenholme +inquired after the health of the old aunt of whom he had heard. + +"In bodily health," said Bates, "she is well. You may perhaps have heard +that in mind she has failed somewhat." + +The man's reserve was his dignity, and it produced its result, although +obvious dignity of appearance and manner was entirely lacking to him. + +The toothless, childish old man woman Trenholme encountered when he +entered the house struck him as an odd exaggeration of the report he had +just received. He did not feel at home when he sat down to eat the food +Bates set before him; he perceived that it was chiefly because in a new +country hospitality is considered indispensable to an easy conscience +that he had received any show of welcome. + +Yet the lank brown hand that set his mug beside him shook so that some +tea was spilt. Bates was in as dire need of the man he received so +unwillingly as ever man was in need of his fellow-man. It is when the +fetter of solitude has begun to eat into a man's flesh that he begins to +proclaim his indifference to it, and the human mind is never in such +need of companionship as when it shuns companions. + +The two spent most of the evening endeavouring to restore to liveliness +the birds that Trenholme had taken from his pockets, and in discussing +them. Bates produced a very old copy of a Halifax newspaper which +contained a sonnet to this bird, in which the local poet addressed it as + + "The Sunset-tinted grosbeak of the north" + +Trenholme marvelled at his resources. Such newspapers as he stored up +were kept under the cushion of the old aunt's armchair. + +Bates brought out some frozen cranberries for the birds. They made a +rough coop and settled them in it outside, in lee of one of the sheds. +It is extraordinary how much time and trouble people will expend on such +small matters if they just take it into their heads to do it. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +There was no very valuable timber on Bates's land. The romance of the +lumber trade had already passed from this part of the country, but the +farmers still spent their winters in getting out spruce logs, which were +sold at the nearest saw-mills. Bates and Cameron had possessed +themselves of a large portion of the hill on which they had settled, +with a view to making money by the trees in this way--money that was +necessary to the household, frugal as it was, for, so far, all their +gains had been spent in necessary improvements. Theirs had been a +far-seeing policy that would in the end have brought prosperity, had the +years of uninterrupted toil on which they calculated been realised. + +It was not until the next day that Trenholme fully understood how +helpless the poor Scotchman really was in his present circumstances. In +the early morning there was the live-stock to attend to, which took him +the more time because he was not in strong health; and when that was +done it seemed that there was much ado in the house before the old woman +would sit down peacefully for the day. He apologised to Trenholme for +his housework by explaining that she was restless and uneasy all day +unless the place was somewhat as she had been accustomed to see it; he +drudged to appease her, and when at last he could follow to the bush, +whither he had sent Trenholme, it transpired that he dared not leave her +more than an hour or two alone, for fear she should do herself a +mischief with the fire. In the bush it was obvious how pitifully small +was the amount of work accomplished. Many trees had been felled before +Cameron's death; but they still had to be lopped and squared, cut into +twelve-foot lengths, dragged by an ox to the log-slide, and passed down +on to the ice of the lake. Part of the work required two labourers; only +a small part of what could be done single-handed had been accomplished; +and Trenholme strongly suspected that moonlight nights had been given to +this, while the old woman slept. + +It is well known that no line can be drawn between labour and play; it +is quite as much fun making an ox pull a log down a woodland path as +playing at polo, if one will only admit it, especially when novelty acts +as playmate. Most healthy men find this fascination hidden in labour, +provided it only be undertaken at their own bidding, although few have +the grace to find it when necessity compels to the task. Alec Trenholme +found the new form of labour to which he had bidden himself toilsome and +delightful; like a true son of Adam, he was more conscious of his toil +than of his delight--still both were there; there was physical +inspiration in the light of the snow, the keen still air, and the sweet +smell of the lumber. So he grew more expert, and the days went past, +hardly distinguished from one another, so entire was the unconsciousness +of the slumber between them. + +He had not come without some sensation of romance in his +knight-errantry. Bates was the centre, the kernel as it were, of a wild +story that was not yet explained. Turrif had disbelieved the details +Saul had given of Bates's cruelty to Cameron's daughter, and Trenholme +had accepted Turrif's judgment; but in the popular judgment, if +Cameron's rising was not a sufficient proof of Bates's guilt, the +undoubted disappearance of the daughter was. Whatever had been his +fault, rough justice and superstitious fear had imposed on Bates a term +of solitary confinement and penal servitude which so far he had accepted +without explanation or complaint. He still expressed no satisfaction at +Trenholme's arrival that would have been a comment on his own hard case +and a confession of his need. Yet, on the whole, Trenholme's interest in +him would have been heightened rather than decreased by a nearer view of +his monotonous life and his dry reserve, had it not been that the man +was to the last degree contentious and difficult to deal with. + +Taking for granted that Trenholme was of gentle extraction, he treated +him with the generosity of pride in the matter of rations; but he +assumed airs of a testy authority which were in exact proportion to his +own feeling of physical and social inferiority. Seen truly, there was a +pathos in this, for it was a weak man's way of trying to be manful but +his new labourer, could not be expected to see it in that light. Then, +too, on all impersonal subjects of conversation which arose, it was the +nature of Bates to contradict and argue; whereas Trenholme, who had +little capacity for reasonable argument, usually dealt with +contradiction as a pot of gunpowder deals with an intruding spark. As +regarded the personal subject of his own misfortune--a subject on which +Trenholme felt he had a certain right to receive confidence--Bates's +demeanour was like an iron mask. + +Bates scorned the idea, which Turrif had always held, that Cameron had +never really died; he vowed, as before, that the box he had sent in +Saul's cart had contained nothing but a dead body; he would hear no +description of the old man who, it would seem, had usurped Cameron's +name; he repeated stolidly that Saul had put his charge into some +shallow grave in the forest, and hoaxed Trenholme, with the help of an +accomplice; and he did not scruple to hint that if Trenholme had not +been a coward he would have seized the culprit, and so obviated further +mystery and after difficulties. There was enough truth in this view of +the case to make it very insulting to Trenholme. But Bates did not seem +to cherish anger for that part of his trouble that had been caused by +this defect; rather he showed an annoying indifference to the whole +affair. He had done what he could to bury his late partner decently; he +neither expressed nor appeared to experience further emotion concerning +his fate. + +When a man has set himself to anything, he generally sticks to it, for a +time at least; this seemed to be the largest reason that Trenholme had +the first four weeks for remaining where he was. At any rate, he did +remain; and from these unpromising materials, circumstance, as is often +the case, beat, out a rough sort of friendship between the two men. The +fact that Bates was a partial wreck, that the man's nerve and strength +in him were to some extent gone, bred in Trenholme the gallantry of the +strong toward the weak--a gallantry which was kept from rearing into +self-conscious virtue by the superiority of Bates's reasoning powers, +which always gave him a certain amount of real authority. Slowly they +began to be more confidential. + +"It's no place for a young man like you to be here," Bates observed with +disfavour. + +It was Sunday. The two were sitting in front of the house in the +sunshine, not because the sun was warm, but because it was bright; +dressed, as they were, in many plies of clothes, they did not feel the +cold, in flat, irregular shape the white lake lay beneath their hill. On +the opposite heights the spruce-trees stood up clear and green, as +perfect often in shape as yews that are cut into old-fashioned cones. + +"I was told that about the last place I was in, and the place before +too," Trenholme laughed. He did not seem to take his own words much to +heart. + +"Well, the station certainly wasn't much of a business," assented Bates; +"and, if it's not rude to ask, where were ye before?" + +"Before that--why, I was just going to follow my own trade in a place +where there was a splendid opening for me; but my own brother put a stop +to that. He said it was no fit position for a young man like me. My +brother's a fine fellow," the young man sneered, but not bitterly. + +"He ought to be," said Bates, surveying the sample of the family before +him rather with a glance of just criticism than of admiration. "What's +your calling, then?" + +Alec pulled his mitts out of his pocket and slapped his moccasins with +them to strike off the melting snow. "What do you think it is, now?" + +Bates eyed him with some interest in the challenge. "I don't know," he +said at last. "Why didn't your brother want ye to do it?" + +"'Twasn't grand enough. I came out naturally thinking I'd set up near my +brother; but, well, I found he'd grown a very fine gentleman--all honour +to him for it! He's a good fellow." There was no sneer just now. + +Bates sat subjecting all he knew of Alec to a process of consideration. +The result was not a guess; it was not in him to hazard anything, even a +guess. + +"What does your brother do?" + +"Clergyman, and he has a school." + +"Where?" + +"Chellaston, on the Grand Trunk." + +"Never heard of it. Is it a growing place?" + +"It's thriving along now. It was just right for my business." + +"Did the clergyman think your business was wrong?" + +The young man laughed as a man laughs who knows the answer to an amusing +riddle and sees his neighbour's mental floundering. "He admits that it's +an honest and respectable line of life." + +"Did ye give in, then?" + +"I took a year to think over it. I'm doing that now." + +"Thinking?" + +"Yes." + +"I've not observed ye spending much time in meditation." + +The young man looked off across the basin of the frozen lake. What is +more changeful than the blue of the sky? Today the far firmament looked +opaque, an even, light blue, as if it were made of painted china. The +blue of Alec Trenholme's eyes was very much like the sky; sometimes it +was deep and dark, sometimes it was a shadowy grey, sometimes it was +hard and metallic. A woman having to deal with him would probably have +imagined that something of his inward mood was to be read in these +changes; but, indeed, they were owing solely to those causes which +change the face of the sky--degrees of light and the position of that +light. As for Bates, he did not even know that his companion had blue +eyes; he only knew in a general way that he was a strong, good-looking +fellow, whose figure, even under the bulgy shapes of multiplied +garments, managed to give suggestion of that indefinite thing we call +style. He himself felt rather thinner, weaker, more rusty in knowledge +of the world, more shapeless as to apparel, than he would have done had +he sat alone. + +After a minute or two he said, "What's your trade?" + +Trenholme, sitting there in the clear light, would have blushed as he +answered had his face not been too much weathered to admit of change of +colour. He went through that momentary change of feeling that we connect +with blushes. He had been perfectly conscious that this question was +coming, and perfectly conscious, too, that when he answered it he would +fall in Bates's estimation, that his prestige would be gone. He thought +he did not mind it, but he did. + +"Butcher," he said. + +"Ye're not in earnest?" said Bates, with animosity. + +"Upon my word." + +"Ye don't look like that"--with disappointment. + +"Look like what?"--fiercely--"What would you have me look like? My +father was as good-looking a man as you'd see in the three kingdoms, and +as good a butcher, too. He got rich, had three shops, and he sent us +boys to the best school he could find. He'd have set me up in any +business I liked; if I chose his it was because--I did choose it." + +He was annoyed at Bates's open regret, just as we are constantly more +annoyed at fresh evidence of a spirit we know to be in a man than with +the demonstration of some unexpected fault, because we realise the trait +we have fathomed and see how poor it is. + +"How did your brother come to be a minister?" + +"He's a _clergyman_ of the Church of England"--with loftiness. + +"Well, that's more of a thing than a minister; how did he come by it?" + +"He was clever, and father was able to send him to Oxford. He was a good +deal older than I was. I suppose he took to the Church because he +thought it his duty." + +"And now that he's out here he wants to sink the shop?" + +"Oh, as to that"--coldly--"when he was quite young, in England, he got +in with swells. He's tremendously clever. There were men in England that +thought no end of him." + +"Did he lie low about the shop there?" + +"I don't know"--shortly--"I was at school then." + +Bates, perceiving that his questions were considered vastly offensive, +desisted, but not with that respectfulness of mind that he would have +had had Alec's father been a clergyman as well as his brother. Bates's +feeling in this matter was what it was by inheritance, exactly as was +the shape of his nose or the length of his limbs; it required no +exercise of thought on his part to relegate Alec Trenholme to a place of +less consequence. + +Trenholme assuaged his own ill-temper by going to take out his pink and +grey grosbeaks and give them exercise. He was debating in his mind +whether they were suffering from confinement or not--a question which +the deportment of the birds never enabled him to solve completely--when +Bates wandered round beside him again, and betrayed that his mind was +still upon the subject of their conversation. + +"Ye know," he began, with the deliberate interest of a Scotchman in an +argument, "I've been thinking on it, and I'm thinking your brother's in +the right of it." + +"You do!" The words had thunderous suggestion of rising wrath. + +"Well," said the other again, "ye're hard to please; ye were vexed a +while since because ye thought I was criticising him for lying low." + +The answer to this consisted in threats thrown out at any man who took +upon himself to criticise his brother. + +"And now, when I tell ye I'm thinking he's in the right of it, ye're +vexed again. Now, I'll tell ye: ye don't like to think the Rev. Mr. +Trenholme's in the right, for that puts ye in the wrong; but ye don't +like me to think he's in the wrong, because he's your brother. Well, +it's natural! but just let us discuss the matter. Now, ye'll agree with +me it's a man's duty to rise in the world if he can." + +Upon which he was told, in a paraphrase, to mind his own business. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +It was a delightful proof of the blessed elasticity of inconsistency in +human lives, a proof also that there was in these two men more of good +than of evil, that that same evening, when the lamp was lit, they +discussed the problem that had been mooted in the afternoon with a fair +amount of good temper. As they sat elbowing the deal table, sheets of +old newspapers under their inspection, Trenholme told his story more +soberly. He told it roughly, emphasising detail, slighting important +matter, as men tell stories who see them too near to get the just +proportion; but out of his words Bates had wit to glean the truth. It +seemed that his father had been a warmhearted man, with something +superior in his mental qualities and acquirements. Having made a +moderate fortune, he had liberally educated his sons. There is nothing +in which families differ more by nature than in the qualities of heart +which bind them together or easily release them from the bonds of +kinship. The members of this small family had that in them which held +them together in spite of the pulling of circumstance; for although the +elder son had come on the stage of manhood ten years before the younger, +although he had had talents that advanced him among scholarly men, and +had been quickly taken from his first curacy to fill a superior position +in a colony, he had never abated an affectionate correspondence with +Alec, and had remained the hero of his young brother's imagination. This +younger son, not having the same literary tastes, and having possibly a +softer heart, gratified his father by going into business with him; but +at that good man's death he had had sufficient enterprise, sufficient +distaste, possibly, for his English position, to sell the business that +was left in his hands, and affection drew him, as a loadstone a magnet, +to his brother's neighbourhood. He brought with him securities of the +small fortune they were to divide between them, and expected nothing but +happiness in the meeting and prosperity in his future career. +Unfortunately, a cause of dispute between the two brothers arose +instantly on Alec's arrival: there was an exceptionally good opening in +Chellaston for one of Alec's calling; the brothers took different views +concerning that calling; they had quarrelled with all the fire of warm +natures, and were parted almost as soon as met. + +"And did ye think it would be pleasing to your brother to have a +tradesman of the same name and blood as himself in the same place?" +asked Bates with lack of toleration in his tone. + +"That's all very fine!"--scornfully. "You know as well as I do that my +lord and my gentleman come out to this country to do what farm-hands and +cattle-men would hardly be paid to do at home--" + +"When they've ruined themselves first, but not till then," Bates put in. + +"And besides, old Robert sets up to be a saint. I didn't suppose he'd +look upon things in the _vulgar_ way." This reflection was cast on Bates +as one of a class. "Was I likely to suppose he'd think that to kick +one's heels on an office stool was finer than honest labour, or that my +particular kind of labour had something more objectionable about it than +any other? In old times it was the most honourable office there was. +Look at the priests of the Old Testament! Read Homer!" + +"I don't know that I'm understanding ye about Homer." + +"Why, hear him tell the way the animals were cut up, and the number of +them--yards and yards of it." + +"But in the Bible the animals were used for sacrifice; that's very +different." Bates said this, but felt that a point had been scored +against him in the poetry of Homer; the Old Testament was primeval, but +Homer, in spite of ancient date, seemed to bring with him the authority +of modern culture. + +"If they were, the people feasted upon them all the same, and the +office of preparing them was the most honourable. I'm not claiming to be +a priest (I leave that to my respected brother); I claim my right in a +new country, where Adam has to delve again, to be a butcher and a +gentleman." All his words were hot and hasty. + +"But ye see," said Bates, "in the towns here, things are beginning to +regulate themselves much in the shape they take in the old country." + +"My brother cares more what people think than I do." + +"And a verra good thing too; for with the majority there is wisdom," put +in Bates, keen and contentious. + +"You think so, do you?"--with sarcasm. + +"Ye must remember ye're young yet; your brother has seen more of the +world--" + +Now Alec Trenholme had had no intention of telling what, to his mind, +was the worst of his brother's conduct, but here he slapped the table +and burst out angrily: + +"And I tell you he believes as I do, but he hasn't pluck to act up to +it. He's not even told one of his fine friends what his brother does; he +says it's for the sake of his school. He's living a lie for his own +pride. He's got himself made master of a college, fine as a fiddle, and +he cares more about that than about his brother. With all his prayers +and his sermons in church every Sunday, he'd let me go to the dogs +rather than live out the truth. He thinks I've gone to the devil now, +because I left him in a rage, and I told him I'd go and learn to spend +my money, and drink, and swear, and gamble as a _gentleman_ should. He +thinks I've done it, and he writes and implores me, by all that's holy, +to forsake evil courses; but never a word like 'Come back and set up +your shop, old fellow, and I'll be your customer.' That's the amount of +his religion." + +"It was a hard choice ye put upon him," said Bates, solemnly. + +"You think it was? Well!" The young man gave a boisterous laugh. + +"For, in the first place, it's not his fault, but your own entirely, if +ye go to the bad." + +"I've not gone to the bad; but if I had, if I'd gone straight there, it +would have been his fault." + +"'Twould just have been your own. There's just one man that's +responsible for your actions, and that's yourself. If your brother was a +compete blackguard, instead of a good man, that's no excuse for you. God +never put any man into this world and said, 'Be good if some other man +is.'" + +"When a man sets up to preach, and then throws away his influence over +his own brother for a little finery opposition, it's more than being a +blackguard. What does a man mean by standing up to preach if he doesn't +mean that he's taking some responsibility for other people?" + +"Well, but it wasn't he that threw away his influence over you; it was +you. He never said 'Don't be influenced any more by me.' If ye thought +he was an angel before then, more fool ye were, for no man is an angel. +What business had you to make all the influence of his godly life +condeetion on his doing right, or what you thought right, on a certain +point of opinion?" + +"He's living a lie, I tell you." + +"I'm not sure but he's right not to have blazoned it. I'm not sure but +I'd have done the same myself." + +"Well, as you just remarked, men are not angels. That you would have +done it doesn't prove anything." + +Next morning Trenholme, whose half-awaked mind had not yet recurred to +the night's dispute stepped out of the house into a white morning fog, +not uncommon in fierce weather when holes for fishing had been made in +the ice of the lake. The air, seemingly as dry as smoke, but keen and +sweet, was almost opaque, like an atmosphere of white porcelain, if such +might be. The sun, like a scarlet ball, was just appearing; it might +have been near, it might have been far; no prospect was seen to mark the +distance. Trenholme was walking round by the white snow path, hardly +discerning the ox-shed to which he was bound, when he suddenly came +upon the dark figure of Bates, who was pitching hay for his Cattle. +Bates let down his fork and stood in his path. + +"For God's sake, Mr. Trenholme," said he, "let your brother know where +you are." + +Trenholme started: Bates's figure stood not unlike some gnarled thorn +that might have appeared to take human shape in the mist. + +"For God's sake, man, write! If ye only knew what it was to feel the +weight of another soul on ye, and one that ye had a caring for! Ye're +easy angered yourself; ye might as easy anger another, almost without +knowing it; and if he or she was to go ye didn't know where, or perhaps +die, be sure ye would blame yourself without heeding their blame." + +Bates's voice was trembling. The solemnity of his mien and the feminine +pronoun he had let slip revealed to Trenholme the direction his thoughts +had taken. + +He went on, holding out an arm, as though by the gesture swearing to his +own transgression: "I counted myself a good man, and I'll not say now +but I did more for"--some name died upon his lips--"than one man in a +hundred would have done; but in my folly I angered her, and when I'd +have given my life ten times over--" + +This, then, was the sorrow that dogged his life. Trenholme knew, without +more ado, that Bates loved the lost girl, that it was her loss that +outweighed all other misfortune. He felt a great compassion: he said +impatiently: + +"There's no use trying to interfere between brothers. You can't see the +thing as I see it. Let's leave it." + +"Ay, leave it," cried the other, voice and limb shaking, "and life is +short, and the time to die is every time, and if some accident is to +sweep us away to-night, who's to tell him that your death, and your soul +too, isn't on his head?" + +"Bother my soul!" said Alec; and yet there was a certain courtesy +expressed in the gentler tone in which he spoke, and what he thought +was, "How much he must have loved her!" + +When the fog had vanished, leaving daylight absolute, this scene of the +morning seemed like a dream, and in the evening, as much from curiosity +to see if he could revive its essence again as from a friendly desire to +relieve the overcharged heart of his comrade, he said: + +"Tell me about her, Bates. What was she like?" + +Bates responded to the question like a man whose heart is beating +against the walls of his silence as a bird beats upon its cage. He spoke +a few words, hardly noticing that he was telling his memories; then the +mask of his self-bound habit was resumed; then again the dignity of his +sorrow found some expression; and still again he would retire into +dumbness, setting the questioner aside slightingly; and when he had +forgotten that he had drawn back within himself some further revealing +would come from him. It was little that he said in all, but language +that has been fused in the furnace of so strong a sorrow and silence has +little of the dross of common speech--the unmeaning, misleading, +unnecessary elements: his veritable memory and thought and feeling were +painted by his meagre tale. + +Was that tale true? John Bates would have thought it a great sin to +deceive himself or another, and yet, such was the power of his love, +blown to white heat by the breath of regret and purified, that when he +spoke of the incidents of Sissy's childhood, of the cleverness she +displayed when he taught her, of her growth until the day in which he +had offended her by speaking of marriage, when he told of her tears, and +prayers, and anger, and of his own despotism, the picture of it all that +arose in Trenholme's imagination was exceedingly different from what +would have been there had he seen the reality. He would not have liked +Cameron's daughter had he seen her, but, seeing her through the medium +of a heart that loved her, all the reverence that is due to womanly +sweetness stirred in him. Cupid may be blind, but to the eyes of +chastened love is given the vision of God. + +When it appeared that Bates had said all that he was going to say, Alec +Trenholme sat pondering the problem of this girl's disappearance with +more mental energy than he had before given to it. Knowing the place +now, he knew that what Bates and Saul had averred was true--that there +were but two ways by which any one could leave it while water was +unfrozen, one by the boat, and the other by striking at random across +the hill to the back of the farm--a route that could only lead either to +one of several isolated farms, or, by a forty-mile tramp round by the +nearest river bridge, to the railway. At no farmhouse had she been seen, +and the journey by the bridge was too long to have been accomplished +before the snow storm must have impeded her. It was in attempting this +journey, Bates was convinced, that she had perished. There was, of +course, another possibility that had been mooted at Turrifs Settlement; +but the testimony of Bates and Saul, agreeing in the main points, had +entirely silenced it. Trenholme, thinking of this now, longed to +question more nearly, yet hardly dared. + +"Do you think she could have gone mad? People sometimes do go stark mad +suddenly. Because, if so, and if you could be mistaken in thinking you +saw her in the house when you went--" + +The Scotchman was looking keenly at him with sharp eyes and haggard +face. "I understand ye," he said, with a sigh of resignation, "the noise +o' the thing has been such that there's no evil men haven't thought of +me, or madness of her. Ye think the living creature ye saw rise from the +coffin was, maybe, the dead man's daughter?" + +"I think it was much too big for a woman." + +"Oh, as to that, she was a good height." Perhaps, with involuntary +thought of what might have been, he drew himself up to his full stature +as he said, "A grand height for a woman; but as to this idea of yours, +I'll not say ye're insulting her by it, though! that's true too; but +I've had the same notion; and now I'll tell ye something. She was not +mad; she took clothes; she left everything in order. Was that the act of +a maniac? and if she wasn't mad, clean out of her wits, would she have +done such a thing as ye're thinking of?" + +"No"--thoughtfully--"I should think not." + +"And, furthermore; if she had wished to do it, where is it she could +have laid him? D'ye think I haven't looked the ground over? There's no +place where she could have buried him, and to take him to the lake was +beyond her strength." There was nothing of the everyday irascibility +about his voice; the patience of a great grief was upon him, as he +argued away the gross suspicion. + +"That settles it." Trenholme said this willingly enough. + +"Yes, it settles it; for if there was a place where the earth was loose +I dug with my own hands down to the very rock, and neither man nor woman +lay under it." + +Trenholme was affected; he again renounced his suspicion. + +"And now I've told ye that," said Bates, "I'll tell ye something else, +for it's right ye should know that when the spring comes it'll not be in +my power to help ye with the logs--not if we should lose the flood and +have to let 'em lie till next year--for when the snow passes, I must be +on the hills seeking her." (He had put a brown, bony hand to shade his +eyes, and from out its shade he looked.) "There were many to help me +seek her alive; I'll take none wi' me when I go to give her burial." + +The other saddened; The weary length and uncertainty of such a search, +and its dismal purpose, came to him. + +"You've no assurance that she hasn't drowned herself in the lake here," +he cried, remonstrating. + +"But I have that; and as ye'll be naturally concerned at me leaving the +logs, I'll tell ye what it is, if ye'll give me your word as an honest +man that ye'll not repeat it at any time or place whatsoever." + +He looked so like a man seeking courage to confess some secret sin that +Trenholme drew back. + +"I'll not _tell_, but--" + +Bates took no heed. "My aunt," he began, "had money laid by; she had ten +English sovereigns she liked to keep by her--women often do. There was +no one but me and Sissy knew where it was; and she took them with her. +By that I know she was making for the railway, and--" His voice grew +unsteady as he brought his hand down; there was a look of far-off vision +in his eyes, as though he saw the thing of which he spoke. "Ay, she's +lying now somewhere on the hills, where she would be beaten down by the +snow before she reached a road." + +Trenholme was thinking of the sadness of it all, forgetting to wonder +even why he had been told not to repeat this last, when he found Bates +was regarding his silence with angry suspicion. + +"It wasn't stealing," he said irritably; "she knew she might have them +if she wanted." It was as though he were giving a shuffling excuse for +some fault of his own and felt its weakness. + +The young man, taken by surprise, said mechanically, "Would Miss Bates +have given them to her?" He had fallen into the habit of referring to +the childish old woman with, all due form, for he saw Bates liked it. + +"Hoots! What are you saying, man? Would ye have had the lassie leave the +burden on my mind that she'd gone out of her father's house penniless? +'Twas the one kindness she did me to take the gold." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +One evening Alec Trenholme sat down to write to his brother. Bates had +urged him to write, and, after a due interval, of his own accord he +wrote. The urging and the writing had a certain relation of cause and +effect, but the writer did not think so. Also, the letter he wrote was +very different from the document of penitence and recantation that Bates +had advised, and now supposed him to be writing. + +He gave a brief account of what he had done before he accepted the post +of station-master at Turrifs Station, and then, + + "I liked it well enough," he wrote, "until one night a queer thing + happened. As evening came on, a man drove up bringing a coffin + to be sent by train to the next village for burial. When I was left + alone with the thing, the man inside got up--he really did, I saw him. + I shut him in and ran to fetch the carter, but couldn't catch him. + When I came back, the man had got out and ran into the wood. + They had lined the box with a white bed-quilt, and we found that + some miles away in the bush the next day, but we never found the + man; and the queer thing is that there were two men and a girl who + seem to have been quite certain he was dead. One of them, a very + intelligent fellow that I am staying with now, thinks the carter must + have played some trick on the way; but I hardly believe that myself, + from the way the carter acted. I think he spoke the truth; he said + he had been alone on the road all day, and had been scared out of his + wits by hearing the man turn in the coffin. He seemed well frightened, + too. Of course, if this is true, the man could not really have + been dead; but I'm not trying to give an explanation; I'm just telling + you what occurred. Well, things went on quietly enough for + another month, and on the last night of the old year the place was + snowed up--tracks, roads, everything--and at midnight an old man + came about who answered to the description I had of the dead man, + clothes and all, for it seems they were burying him in his clothes. + He was rather deaf, and blind I think, though I'm not sure, and he + seemed to be wandering in his mind somehow; but he was a fine, + powerful fellow--reminded me a little of father--and the pathetic + thing about it was that he had got the idea into his head--" + +Here Alec stopped, and, holding the pen idly in his hand, sat lost in +thought. So wistful did he look, so wrapt, that Bates, glancing +furtively at him, thought the letter had raised associations of his home +and childhood, and took himself off to bed, hoping that the letter would +be more brotherly if the writer was left alone. But when Alec put pen to +paper again he only wrote:-- + + "Well, I don't know that it matters what he had got into his head; + it hadn't anything to do with whether he was Cameron (the name of the + man supposed dead) or not. I could not get a word out of him as to who + he was or where he came from. I did all I could to get him to come in + and have food and get warmed; but though I went after him and stood with + him a long while, I didn't succeed. He was as strong as a giant. It was + awfully solemn to see an old man like that wandering bareheaded in the + snow at night, so far from any human being. I was forced to leave him, + for the engine came clearing the track. I got some men to come after him + with me, but he was gone, and we never saw him again. I stayed on there + ten days, trying to hear something of him, and after that I came here to + try my hand at lumbering. The owner of this place here was terribly cut + up about the affair. It was he who started the coffin I told you of, and + he's been left quite alone because this tale frightened men from coming + to work for him in the winter as usual. I have a very comfortable berth + here. I think there must have been something curious--a streak of some + kind--in the dead man's family; his only daughter went off from here in + a rage a few days after his death, and as the snow came at once, she is + supposed to have perished in the drifts on the hills. Our logs have to + be floated down the small river here at the spring flood, and this man, + Bates, is determined to look for the lost girl at the same time. I'll + stay and see him through the spring. Very likely I shall look in on you + in summer." + +Alec Trenholme went to bed not a little sleepy, but satisfied that he +had given a clear account of the greater part of what had befallen him. + +The next day he tramped as far as the railway to post the letter. + +When Principal Trenholme received this letter he was standing in his +library, holding an interview with some of his elder pupils. He had a +pleasant manner with boys; his rule was to make friends with them as +much as possible; and if he was not the darling of their hearts, he was +as dear to them as a pedagogue ever is to a class under his authority. +When he saw Alec's letter, his heart within him leaped with hope and +quailed with fear. It is only a few times during his life that a man +regards a letter in this way, and usually after long suspense on a +subject which looms large in his estimate of things. When he could +disengage himself, he tore it open, and the first question with which +he scanned it concerned Alec only--was he in trouble? had he carried out +his threat of evil-doing? or was it well with him? + +Robert Trenholme was not now merely of the stuff of which men of the +world are made. Could we but know it, a man's mind probably bears to his +religion no very different relation from what his body bears; his creed, +opinions, and sentiments are more nearly allied to what St. Paul calls +"the flesh" than they are to the hidden life of the man, with which God +deals. To the inner spring of Robert Trenholme's life God had access, so +that his creed, and the law of temperance in him, had, not perfection, +but vitality; and the same vitality, now permitted, now refused, by +unseen inlets flowed into all he did and was, and his estimate of things +was changed. He, in subtle selfishness, did much, almost all he could, +to check and interrupt the incoming life, although indeed he prayed, and +often supposed his most ardent desire was, to obtain it. Such is the +average man of faith; such was Robert Trenholme--a better thing, truly, +than a mere man, but not outwardly or inwardly so consistent. + +The great fear he had when he opened this letter was that he had caused +his brother to stumble; the great hope, that, because of his prayers, +Heaven would grant it should not be so; but when, on the first hasty +glance over the pages, he discovered that Alec was well, and was +apparently amusing himself in a harmless way, that fear and hope +instantly glided into the background; he hardly knew that they had both +been strong, so faded did they look in the light of the commonplace +certainty. + +The next question that pressed assumed an air of paramount importance. +He had asked Alec to enter some honourable mercantile profession. He had +pressed this in the first interview, when the hot-tempered young man had +left him in a rage. He had argued the point in subsequent letters; he +had even offered his own share of their inheritance as additional +capital. He felt that he deserved an answer to this offer, and believed +that his happiness depended upon Alec's acceding to the proposed change +of his life-plan. His mind full of this secondary subject, he perused +the sheets of the letter with singular impatience and distaste. Any man +might, in the most favourable circumstances, have been excused for +experiencing impatience at having so wild a tale foisted in brief +confusion upon his credulity; in the mood of his present circumstance +the elder Trenholme refolded the letter, using within himself the +strongest language in his vocabulary. + +Robert Trenholme was not a happy man just now. Since he had last seen +Alec a change had come to him which made this matter of the other's +calling of warmer interest than it had been. Then his early love for +Sophia Rexford had been a memory and a far, half-formed hope; now it had +been roused again to be a true, steady flame, an ever-present influence. +His one desire now was to win her affection. He would not be afraid then +to tell her all that there was to tell of himself, and let her love +decide. He did not feel that he should wrong her in this. At present he +had everything to give, she everything to receive, except the possession +of gentle blood, which would apparently be her only dowry. The girl he +could not once have dared to address was now working servantless in her +father's kitchen; he knew that it was no light drudgery; and he could +offer her a comparatively luxurious home, and a name that had attracted +to itself no small honour. He had a nice appreciation for what is called +position, and the belief that their mutual positions had changed was +very sweet to him. All his mind expanded in this thought, as the nerves +of the opium-eater to the influence of his drug; it soothed him when he +was weary; it consoled him when he was vexed; it had come to him as an +unexpected, unsought good, like a blessing direct from heaven. + +This was as things now were; but if his brother adhered to his purpose +of establishing himself in his business in the same country, that would +make a difference--a difference that it was hard, perhaps, for a +thoughtful man to put into words, but which was still harder to wipe +away by any sophistry of words. Robert Trenholme may have been wise, or +he may have been foolish, but he estimated this difference as great. +Should Alec persist in this thing, it would, in the first place, +endanger the success of his school, or alter his relation to that +school; in the second, it would make him more unworthy in the eyes of +all Sophia's well-born relatives. While he remained in suspense, +therefore, he was too honourable to seek to entangle her affections by +the small arts that are used for such purposes; for if the worst came, +he felt that he would be too proud to ask her to be his wife, or, if +love should overcome pride, and he should still sue for what he loved +better than life, he must do so before he sought her heart--not after; +he must lay his cause before the tribunal of Sophia's wit before she had +let go her heart--a thing that he, being what he was, had not courage to +do. + +He was not "living a lie" (as his brother had said) any more than every +man does who allows his mind to dwell on the truth of what pleases him +more than on disagreeable truth. The fact that he was, by a distant tie +of consanguinity, related to a gentleman of some county position in +England was just as true, and to Trenholme's mind more largely true, +than the fact of his father's occupation. Yet he had never made this a +boast; he had never voluntarily stated the pleasant truth to any one to +whom he had not also told the unpleasant; and where he had kept silence +concerning the latter, he had done so by the advice of good men, and +with excuse concerning his professional influence. Yet, some way, he was +not sufficiently satisfied with all this to have courage to bring it +before Miss Rexford, nor yet was he prepared (and here was his worldly +disadvantage) to sacrifice his conscience to success. He would not ask +his brother to change, except in so far as he could urge that brother's +duty and advantage; he would not say to him, "Do this for my sake"; nor +yet would he say, "Go, then, to the other side of the world"; nor yet, +"You shall be no longer my brother." + +Robert Trenholme was bearing a haunted life. The ghost was fantastic +one, truly--that of a butcher's shop; but it was a very real haunting. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The Rexford family was without a servant. Eliza, the girl they had +brought with them from Quebec, had gone to a situation at the Chellaston +hotel. The proprietor and manager of that large building, having become +lame with rheumatism, had been sorely in need of a lieutenant, or +housekeeper, and had chosen one with that shrewdness which had ever been +his business capital. His choice had fallen on Eliza and she had +accepted the place. + +When Robert Trenholme heard of this arrangement he was concerned, +knowing how difficult servants were to procure. He took occasion to +speak to Miss Rexford on the subject, expressing sympathy with her and +strong censure of Eliza. + +"Indeed I am not sure but that she has done right," said Sophia. + +"You surprise me very much. I thought you made somewhat of a companion +of her." + +"I do; and that is why, after hearing what she has to say about it, I +think she has done right. She has abilities, and this is the only +opening in sight in which she can exercise them." + +"I should think"--sternly--"that these abilities were better +unexercised." + +"That is probably because you haven't the least idea what it is to have +energies and faculties for which you have no scope"--this archly. + +"But I should think the risk of learning pert manners--" + +"That is the way men always argue about women. I tell you there is no +such risk for an energetic, clever girl as to place her where the rust +of unexercised faculties will eat into her soul. It is just because so +many girls have to undergo this risk, and cannot do it safely, that the +world is so full of women that are captious or morbid or silly. Boys +treated in the same way would turn out as badly." + +"But there is scope for all the highest faculties of a woman's nature in +such a household as yours," cried he. + +"Since you say so"--politely--"I am bound to believe it." + +"No, but really--do you mean to say you don't think so?" + +"You have just expressed yourself so positively that I am curious to +know how you came by your knowledge, first, as to Eliza's faculties, and +secondly, as to the scope for them in our house." + +"It is unkind of you to laugh at me when I am only a humble enquirer +after truth." + +"Having expressed yourself thus modestly--" + +"Nay, but I only said what I would have said about any girl in any such +family." + +"And you only said it with that simplicity of certainty which every man +would have felt on the same subject." + +"I cry a truce; I plead for mercy. Let us have out the traits of Eliza's +character separately, and examine the scope in detail." + +"To begin with, she has wonderful foresight; her power to plan the work +of the house so as to get it done as easily as possible often surprises +me. Now, of what use is this faculty in the kingdom of my step-mother, +who always acts on the last impulse, and upsets every one's plans +without even observing them? She has great executive ability, too; but +what use is it when, as soon as she gets interested in the +accomplishment of something, my mother cries, 'Come, Eliza, all work +and no play makes Jack a dull boy; go and romp with the children!' Then, +too, she has plenty of resource; but of what use is that, when the thing +she sees to be best in an emergency is seldom the thing that is done? +The hotel-keeper is more observing than you; he has noticed that Eliza +is no ordinary manager, and offered her high wages." + +"You know, of course, what you are talking about," said Trenholme, +feelingly, for he had no doubt that her sympathy with Eliza had arisen +out of the pains of her own experience; "but in your house there is +surely boundless room for humble, loving service; and how much better +this girl would be if she could set aside her cleverness to perform such +service." He did not add, "as you have done," but there was that in his +voice which implied it. He went on: "I do not yet allow that you have +disproved my statement, for I said that where she was she had scope for +her _highest_ faculties." + +"I suppose it is admitted that the highest faculty of man is worship," +remarked Sophia, suggesting that he was not speaking to the point; "but +that is no reason why a boy with a head for figures should be made a +farmer, or that a young woman with special ability should remain a +maid-of-all-work." + +"And what of the affections--love for children, and for other women +better than herself? A girl who has such privileges as this girl had +with you has a far better chance of doing well than in a public hotel, +even if that were a safe place for her." + +Possibly Sophia thought her companion showed too great sensibility +concerning Eliza's privileges, for she did not take notice of any but +the last part of his sentence. + +"It is a safe place for her; for she is able to take care of herself +anywhere, if she chooses; and if she doesn't choose, no place is safe. +Besides, you know, the place is a boarding-house really, rather than an +hotel." + +"I am not so surprised at the view _you_ take of it, for you will do +more than any one else to supply her place." + +This, Trenholme's feeling prophecy, was quite true. Sophia did do more +of Eliza's work than any one. She spared her younger sisters because she +wanted them to be happy. + +In spite of this, however, Sophia was not so much in need of some one's +sympathy as were those younger girls, who had less work to do. A large +element in happiness is the satisfaction of one's craving for romance. +Now, there are three eras of romance in human life. The first is +childhood, when, even if the mind is not filled with fictitious fairy +tales which clothe nature, life is itself a fairy tale, a journey +through an unexplored region, an enterprise full of effort and wonder, +big with hope, an endless expectation, to which trivial realisations +seem large. It was in this era that the younger Rexford children, up to +Winifred, still lived; they built snow-men, half-expecting, when they +finished them in the gloaming, that the thing of their creation would +turn and pursue them; they learned to guide toboggans with a trailing +toe, and half dreamed that their steeds were alive when they felt them +bound and strain, so perfectly did they respond to the rider's will. +Sophia, again, had reached the third epoch of romance, when, at a +certain age, people make the discovery of the wondrous loveliness in the +face of the Lady Duty, and, putting a hand in hers, go onward, thinking +nothing hard because of her beauty. But it is admitted by all that there +is often a stage between these two, when all the romance of life is +summed up in the hackneyed word "love." The pretty girls who were +nicknamed Blue and Red had outgrown childhood, and they saw no +particular charm in work; they were very dull, and scarce knew why, +except that they half envied Eliza, who had gone to the hotel, and who, +it was well known, had a suitor in the person of Mr. Cyril Harkness, the +Philadelphian dentist. + +Harkness had set up his consulting room in the hotel, but, for economy's +sake, he lodged himself in the old Harmon house that was just beyond +Captain Rexford's, on the same road. By this arrangement he passed the +latter house twice a day, but he never took any notice of Blue and Red. +They did not wish that he should--oh no, they were above that--but they +felt sure that Eliza was very silly to dislike him as she did, +and--well, between themselves, they found an infinite variety of things +to say concerning him, sayings emphasised by sweet little chuckles of +laughter, and not unfrequently wandering sighs. Sophia, at their age, +had had many suitors, this was the family tradition, and lo, upon their +own barren horizon there was only one pretty young man, and he only to +be looked at, as it were, through the bars of a fence. + +One day, when the blue merino frock was flitting about near the red one, +the wearers of both being engaged in shaking up a feather bed, Red +suddenly stopped her occupation in some excitement. + +"Oh, Blue!" She paused a moment as if she were experiencing some +interesting sensation; "oh, Blue, I think I've got toothache." + +"No!" cried Blue, incredulously, but with hope. + +Again over Red's face came the absorbed expression of introspection, and +she carefully indented the outside of her pretty cheek several times +with her forefinger. + +"Yes, I'm sure I feel it. But no; there, it's gone again!" + +"It's just the very way things have," said Blue, lamenting. "For two +months we've quite wished we had toothache, and there was Tommy the +other night just roaring with it." + +"I shouldn't like a _roaring_ toothache," said Red, reflectively. + +"Oh, but the worse it was," cried Blue, encouragingly, "the more +necessary it would be--" She stopped and shook her head with a very +roguish and significant glance at her sister. + +"Mamma only put a bag of hot salt to Tommy's," said Red, prognosticating +evil. + +"But if it were me," cried Blue, with assurance, "I'd not be cured by +bags of hot salt. I would insist upon consulting a dentist." + +They both laughed a laugh of joyful plotting. + +"It was only the other day," said Red, twisting her little English voice +into the American accent, "that he told Harold he was right down clever +at tinkering a tooth in the most pain_less_ manner." + +"Oh, Red, dear Red," begged Blue, "do feel it again, for my sake; it +would be so joyfully funny if mamma would take us to him." + +"I'd a little bit rather _you_, had the ache, Blue." + +"I'd have it this _instant_ if I could, but"--reproachfully--"it was you +that felt the twinge.". + +"Well, I don't mind," said Red, heroically, "as long as my cheek doesn't +swell; I won't go with a swelled face." + +"What would it matter? He knows that your face is alike on both sides +_usually_." + +"Still, I shouldn't like it," replied Red, with a touch of obstinacy. + +Eliza, however, was of a very different mind about this same young man. +She had not taken her new situation with any desire to see more of him; +rather she hoped that by seeing him oftener she should more quickly put +an end to his addresses. + +The "Grand Hotel" of Chellaston was, as Miss Rexford had said, a +boarding-house. It had few transient visitors. The only manufacturer of +the village, and his wife, lived in it all the year round; so did one of +the shopkeepers. Several other quiet people lived there all winter; in +summer the prices were raised, and it was filled to overflowing by more +fashionable visitors from the two cities that were within a short +journey. This "hotel" was an enormous wooden house, built in the +simplest fashion, a wide corridor running from front to rear on each +storey, on which the room doors opened. Rooms and corridors were large, +lofty, and well-lighted by large windows. The dining-room, +billiard-room, office, and bar-room, on the ground-floor, together with +the stairs and corridors, were uncarpeted, painted all over a light +slate grey. With the exception of healthy geraniums in most of the +windows, there was little ornament in these ground-floor rooms; but all +was new, clean, and airy. The upper rooms were more heavily furnished, +but were most of them shut up in winter. All the year round the landlord +took in the daily papers; and for that reason his bar-room, large and +always tolerably quiet, was the best public reading-room the village +boasted. + +The keeper of this establishment was a rather elderly man, and of late +he had been so crippled by rheumatism that he could walk little and only +on crutches. He was not a dainty man; his coat was generally dusty, his +grey beard had always a grimy appearance of tobacco about it. He spent +the greater part of his day now sitting in a high pivot chair, his +crutches leaning against it. + +"You see, miss," he said to Eliza, "I'll tell you what the crying need +for you is in this house at present; it's to step round spry and see +that the girls do their work. It's this way; when I was spry, if I +wasn't in the room, the young people knew that, like as not, I was just +round the corner; they knew I _might_ be there any minute; at present +they know they'll hear my sticks before I see them. It makes all the +difference. What I want of you is to be feet for me, and eyes for me, +and specially in the dining-room. Mrs. Bantry--that dressy lady you saw +in the corridor--Mrs. Bantry told me that this morning they brought her +buckwheat cakes, and _ten minutes after_, the syrup to eat 'em with. How +hot do you suppose they were?" + +He finished his speech with the fine sarcasm of this question. He looked +at Eliza keenly. "You're young," he remarked warningly, "but I believe +you're powerful." + +And Eliza showed that she was powerful by doing the thing that he +desired of her, in spite of the opposition from the servants which she +at first experienced. She had a share of hand work to do also, which was +not light, but she had high wages, a comfortable room in the top +storey, and the women who were boarding in the house made friends with +her. She would have thought herself very well off had it not been for +her dislike of Harkness, for which one reason certainly was the show he +made of being in love with her. + +Harkness had his office on the first floor, and he took dinner at the +hotel. For about a week after Eliza's advent the young dentist and the +young housekeeper measured each other with watchful eyes, a measurement +for which the fact that they crossed each other's path several times a +day gave ample opportunity. Because the woman had the steadier eyes and +the man was the more open-tempered, Eliza gained more insight into +Harkness's character than he did into hers. While he, to use his own +phrase, "couldn't reckon her up the least mite in the world," she +perceived that under his variable and sensitive nature there was a +strong grip of purpose upon all that was for his own interest in a +material way; but having discovered this vein of calculating +selfishness, mixed with much of the purely idle and something that was +really warmhearted, she became only the more suspicious of his +intentions towards herself, and summoned the whole strength of her +nature to oppose him. + +She said to him one day, "I'm surprised to hear that you go about +telling other gentlemen that you like me. I wonder that you're not +ashamed." + +As she had hitherto been silent, he was surprised at this attack, and at +first he took it as an invitation to come to terms. + +"I've a right-down, hearty admiration for you, Miss White. I express it +whenever I get the chance; I'm not ashamed of my admiration." + +"But I am," said Eliza, indignantly. "It's very unkind of you." + +Harkness looked at her, failing to unravel her meaning. + +"There ain't anything a young lady likes better than to have an +admirer. She mayn't always like _him_, but she always likes him to be +admiring of her." + +However true this philosophy of the inner secrets of the heart might be, +Eliza did not admit it for a moment. She denounced his behaviour, but it +was clear, as the saying is, that she was speaking over the head of her +audience. The youth evidently received it as a new idea that, when he +had spoken only in her praise, she could seriously object. + +"Why now," he burst forth, "if any young lady took to admiring me, +thinking a heap of me and talking about me to her friends, d'ye think +I'd be cut up? I'd be pleased to that extent I'd go about on the broad +grin. I mightn't want to marry just yet; and when I did, I mightn't +_possibly_ take up with her; but I can tell you, as soon as I was +disposed to marry, I'd have a soft side towards her; I'd certainly think +it right to give her the first chance in considering who I'd have. And +that's all I ask of you, Miss White. You won't have anything to do with +me (why, I can't think), but I just give it put that I'm an admirer, and +I hang on, hoping that you'll think better of it." + +He was good-natured about it, perfectly open apparently, and at the same +time evidently so confident that his was the sensible view of the matter +that Eliza could only repeat her prohibition less hopefully. + +A little later she found that he had quelled a revolt against her +authority that was simmering in the minds of the table-maids. She went +at once to the door that was decorated with the dentist's sign. + +It was opened by Harkness in the bowing manner with which he was wont to +open to patients. When he saw Eliza's expression he straightened +himself. + +"I want to know what you've been saying to those girls downstairs about +me." + +"Well now," said he, a little flustered, "nothing that you'd dislike to +hear." + +"Do you think," she went on with calm severity, "that I can't manage my +affairs without your help?" + +"By no means." His emphasis implied that he readily perceived which +answer would give least offence. "Same time, if I can make your path +more flowery--fail to see objections to such a course." + +"I don't want you to trouble yourself." + +"It wasn't the least mite of trouble," he assured her. "Why, those girls +downstairs, whenever I roll my eyes, they just fly to do the thing I +want." + +"Do you think that is nice?" asked Eliza. + +"Lovely--so convenient!" + +"I do not like it." + +"It don't follow that whenever they roll their eyes, I do what they +want. Jemima! no. They might roll them, and roll them, and roll them, +right round to the back of their heads; 'twouldn't have an atom of +effect on me." + +He waited to see some result from this avowal, but Eliza was looking at +him as coldly as ever. + +"In that respect," he added, "there ain't no one that interferes with +your prerogative." + +Eliza looked as if he had spoken in a foreign tongue. "I do not +understand," she said, and in this she told a lie, but she told it so +successfully that he really did not know whether she had understood, or +whether it behooved him to speak more plainly. + +Before he could make up his mind, she had taken her departure. When she +was gone he stood looking darkly, wishing he knew how to hasten the day +when she should change her aspect to him. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +When Harkness found that he was always defied by Eliza he grew gloomy, +and was quiet for a time. One day, however, he recovered his former +cheerfulness. He seemed, indeed, to be in high spirits. When he saw his +time, he sought talk with Eliza. He did not now affect to be lively, but +rather wore a manner of marked solemnity. + +"Can you read the French language?" he asked. + +"No," she answered. + +"That's unfortunate, for I'm not a good hand at it myself; but I've +found a bit of news in a French paper here that is real interesting and +important." + +He unfurled a crushed copy of a Quebec journal a few days old. "It +says," he began translating, that "there's a man called Cameron, who's +been nicknamed Lazarus Cameron, because he seemed to be dead and came to +life again." + +He looked hard at the paper, as if needing a few moments to formulate +further translation. + +"Do go on," said Eliza, with manifest impatience. + +"Why now, you're _real_ interested, Miss White." + +"Anybody would want to know what you're at." + +"Well, but, considering it's any one so composed as you, Miss White, +it's real pleasant to see you so keen." + +"I'm keen for my work. I haven't time, like you, to stand here all day." + +All this time he had been looking at the paper. "What I've read so far, +you see, is what I've told you before as having happened to my knowledge +at a place called Turrifs Station." + +"Is that all?" + +"No," and he went on translating. "'Whether this man was dead or not, he +is now alive, but partially deaf and blind; and whether he has ever seen +anything of the next world or not, he has now no interest in this one, +but spends his whole time praying or preaching, living on crusts, and +walking great distances in solitary places. He has lately appeared in +the suburbs of this city' (that is Quebec) 'and seems to be a +street-preacher of no ordinary power.'" + +Harkness stopped with an air of importance. + +"Is that all?" asked Eliza. + +He gave her another paper, in English, to read. This contained a longer +and more sensational account of the same tale, and with this difference, +that instead of giving the simple and sentimental view of the French +writer, the English journalist jeered greatly, and also stated that the +nickname Lazarus had been given in derision, and that the man, who was +either mad or an imposter, had been hooted, pelted, and even beaten in +the streets. + +"Is that all?" she asked. + +"Unless you can tell me any more." He did not say this lightly. + +"Is that all?" she asked again, as if his words had been unmeaning. + +"Well now, I think that's enough. 'Tisn't every day this poor earth of +ours is favoured by hearing sermons from one as has been t'other side of +dying. I think it would be more worth while to hear him than to go to +church, I do." + +"Do you mean to say," she asked, with some asperity, "that you really +believe it?" + +"I tell you I saw the first part of it myself, and unless you can give +me a good reason for not believing the second, I'm inclined to swallow +it down whole, Miss Cameron--I beg your pardon, White, I mean. One gets +real confused in names, occasionally." + +"Well," said Eliza, composedly, preparing to leave him, "I can't say I +understand it, Mr. Harkness, but I must say it sounds too hard for me to +believe." + +He looked after her with intense curiosity in his eyes, and in the next +few days returned to the subject in her presence again and again, +repeating to her all the comments that were made on the story in the +bar-room, but he could not rouse her from an appearance of cheerful +unconcern. + +Another item appeared in the papers; the old man called Cameron had been +brought before the magistrates at Quebec for some street disturbance of +which he appeared to have been the innocent cause. + +Upon this Cyril Harkness took a whim into his head, which he made known +to all his friends in the place, and then to Eliza--a most extraordinary +whim, for it was nothing less than to go down to Quebec, and take the +street preacher under his own protection. + +"I feel as if I had a sort of responsibility," said he, "for I was at +the very beginning of this whole affair, and saw the house where he had +lived, and I got real well acquainted with his partner, who no doubt had +ill-treated him. I saw the place where a daughter of his perished too, +and now he's got so near up here as this, I can't bear to think of that +old man being ill-treated and having no one to look after him. I'm going +right down to Quebec by the Saturday-night train, an' I'll be back +Monday morning if I can persuade the old gentleman to come right here +where I can look after him. I reckon there's room in the Harmon house +for both him and me, an' I reckon, if he's got anything particularly +powerful to say in the way of religion, it won't do this little town any +harm to hear it." + +He had said all this to Eliza. + +"Don't!" she cried in great surprise, but with determined opposition. "I +shall never think you have any sense again if you do such a foolish and +wicked thing." + +"Why now, Miss White, as to losing your good opinion, I didn't know as +I'd been fortunate enough to get it yet; and as to its being wicked, I +don't see how you make _that_ out." + +"It's meddling with what you have nothing to do with." + +"Well now, what will you give me not to go?" He said these words, as he +said most of his words, in a languid, lingering way, but he turned and +faced her with an abrupt glance. + +He and she were standing at the head of the first staircase in the +unfurnished corridor. It was the middle of the afternoon; no one chanced +to be passing. He, light-moving, pretty fellow as he was, leaned on the +wall and glanced at her sharply. She stood erect, massive, not only in +her form, but in the strength of will that she opposed to his, and a red +flush slowly mantled her pale, immobile face. + +"I don't know what you want of me," she said. "Money's the thing you +love, and I haven't any money; but whether I had or not, I would give +you _nothing_." She turned at the last word. + +Then Harkness, taking the chiding and jeers of all his companions +good-naturedly, and giving them precisely the same excuses that he had +given to Eliza, started for Quebec. + +What was more remarkable, he actually brought back the old preacher with +him--brought him, or rather led him, to the Harmon house, for the old +man was seemingly quite passive. This was an accomplished fact when +Eliza and Harkness met again. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The day after his coming, and the next, for some reason the old stranger +called Cameron remained in the brick house to which Harkness had brought +him. The young man, impatient for novelty, if for nothing else, began to +wonder if he had sunk into some stupor of mind from which he would not +emerge. He had heard of him as a preacher, and as the conceptions of +ordinary minds are made up only of the ideas directly presented to them, +he had a vague notion that this old man continually preached. As it was, +he went to his work at the hotel on the third morning, and still left +his strange guest in the old house, walking about in an empty room, +munching some bread with his keen white teeth, his bright eyes half shut +under their bushy brows. + +Harkness came to the hotel disconcerted, and, meeting Eliza near the +dining-room, took off his hat in sullen silence. Several men in the room +called after him as he passed. "How's your dancing bear, Harkness?" +"How's the ghost you're befriending?" "How's your coffin-gentleman?" +There was a laugh that rang loudly in the large, half-empty room. + +After Harkness had despatched two morning visitors, however, and was +looking out of his window, as was usual in his idle intervals, he +noticed several errand-boys gazing up the road, and in a minute an +advancing group came within his view, old Cameron walking down the +middle of the street hitting the ground nervously with his staff, and +behind him children of various sizes following rather timidly. Every now +and then the old man emitted some sound--a shout, a word of some sort, +not easily understood. It was this that had attracted the following of +children, and was very quickly attracting the attention of every one in +the street. One or two men, and a woman with a shawl over her head, were +coming down the sidewalks the same way and at about the same pace as the +central group, and Harkness more than suspected that they had diverged +from the proper course of their morning errands out of curiosity. He +took more interest in the scene than seemed consistent with his slight +connection with the principal actor. He made an excited movement toward +his door, and his hand actually trembled as he opened it. Eliza was +usually about the passages at this time of day. He called her name. + +She put her head over the upper bannister. + +"Come down and see Lazarus Cameron!" + +"I'll come in a minute." + +He saw through the railing of the bannisters the movement of some linen +she was folding. + +"He'll be past in a minute." Harkness's voice betrayed his excitement +more than he desired. + +Eliza dropped the linen and came downstairs rather quickly. Harkness +returned to his window; she came up beside him. The inner window was +open, only one pane was between them and the outer air. In yards all +round cocks were crowing, as, on a mild day in the Canadian March, cocks +will crow continually. Light snow of the last downfall lay on the +opposite roofs, and made the hills just seen behind them very white. The +whole winter's piles of snow lay in the ridges between the footpaths and +the road. Had it not been that some few of the buildings were of brick, +and that on one or two of the wooden ones the white paint was worn off, +the wide street would have been a picture painted only in different +tones of white. But the clothes of the people were of dark colour, and +the one vehicle in sight was a blue box-sleigh, drawn by a shaggy pony. + +Eliza was conscious of the picture only as one is conscious of +surroundings upon which the eye does not focus. Her sight fastened on +the old man, now almost opposite the hotel. He was of a broad, powerful +frame that had certainly once possessed great strength. Even now he was +strong; he stooped a little, but he held his head erect, and the +well-formed, prominent features of his weather-beaten face showed forth +a tremendous force of some sort; even at that distance the brightness of +his eyes was visible under bushy brows, grey as his hair. His clothes +were of the most ordinary sort, old and faded. His cap was of the +commonest fur; he grasped it now in his hand, going bareheaded. Tapping +the ground with his staff, he walked with nervous haste, looking upward +the while, as blind men often look. + +Harkness did not look much out of the window; he was inspecting Eliza's +face: and when she turned to him he gave her a glance that, had she been +a weaker woman, would have been translated into many words--question and +invective; but her silence dominated him. It was a look also that, had +he been a stronger man, he would have kept to himself, for it served no +purpose but to betray that there was some undercurrent of antagonism to +her in his mind. + +"You're very queer to-day, Mr. Harkness," she remarked, and with that +she withdrew. + +But when the door closed she was not really gone to the young man. He +saw her as clearly with his mind as a moment before he had seen her with +his eyes, and he pondered now the expression on her face when she looked +out of the window. It told him, however, absolutely nothing of the +secret he was trying to wring from her. + +There was no square in Chellaston, no part of the long street much +wider than any other or more convenient as a public lounging place. +Here, in front of the hotel, was perhaps the most open spot, and +Harkness hoped the old man would make a stand here and preach; but he +turned aside and went down a small side street, so Harkness, who had no +desire to identify himself too publicly with his strange _protege_, was +forced to leave to the curiosity of others the observation of his +movements. + +The curiosity of people in the street also seemed to abate. The more +respectable class of people are too proud to show interest in the same +way that gaping children show it, and most people in this village +belonged to the more respectable class. Those who had come to doors or +windows on the street retired from them just as Harkness had done; those +out in the street went on their ways, with the exception of two men of +the more demonstrative sort, who went and looked down the alley after +the stranger, and called out jestingly to some one in it. + +Then the old man stopped, and, with his face still upturned, as if blind +to everything but pure light, took up his position on one side of the +narrow street. He had only gone some forty paces down it. A policeman, +coming up in front of the hotel, looked on, listening to the jesters. +Then he and they drew a little nearer, the children who had followed +stood round, one man appeared at the other end of the alley. On either +side the houses were high and the windows few, but high up in the hotel +there was a small window that lighted a linen press, and at that small +window, with the door of the closet locked on the inside, Eliza stood +unseen, and looked and listened. + +The voice of the preacher was loud, unnatural also in its rising and +falling, the voice of a deaf man who could not hear his own tones. His +words were not what any one expected. This was the sermon he preached: + +"In a little while He that shall come will not tarry. Many shall say to +Him in that day, 'Lord, Lord,' and He shall say, 'Depart from me; I +never knew you.'" + +His voice, which had become very vehement, suddenly sank, and he was +silent. + +"Upon my word, that's queer," said one of the men who stood near the +policeman. + +"He's staring mad," said the other man in plain clothes. "He should be +in the asylum." + +This second man went away, but the first speaker and the policeman drew +still nearer, and the congregation did not diminish, for the man who +left was replaced by the poor woman with the checked shawl over her head +who had first followed the preacher up the street, and who now appeared +standing listening at a house corner. She was well known in the village +as the wife of a drunkard. + +The old man began speaking again in softer voice, but there was the same +odd variety of tones which had exciting effect. + +"Why do you defraud your brother? Why do you judge your brother? Why do +you set at nought your brother? Inasmuch as you do it unto the least of +these, you do it to Him." + +His voice died away again. His strong face had become illumined, and he +brought down his gaze toward the listeners. + +"If any man shall do His will he shall know of the doctrine. He will +know--yes, know--for there is no other knowledge as sure as this." + +Then, in such a colloquial way that it almost seemed as if the listeners +themselves had asked the question, he said: "What shall we do that we +may work the works of God?" + +And he smiled upon them, and held out his hands as if in blessing, and +lifted up his face again to heaven, and cried, "This is the work of God, +that ye believe on Him Whom He hath sent." + +As if under some spell, the few to whom he had spoken stood still, till +the preacher slowly shifted himself and began to walk away by the road +he had come. + +Some of the children went after him as before. The poor woman +disappeared behind the house she had been standing against. The +policeman and his companion began to talk, looking the while at the +object of their discussion. + +Eliza, in the closet, leaned her head against the pile of linen on an +upper shelf, and was quite still for some time. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Principal Trenholme had been gone from Chellaston a day or two on +business. When he returned one evening, he got into his smart little +sleigh which was in waiting at the railway station, and was driving +himself home, when his attention was arrested and his way blocked by a +crowd in front of the hotel. He did not force a way for his horse, but +drew up, listening and looking. It was a curious picture. The wide +street of snow and the houses were dusky with night, except where light +chanced to glow in doorways and windows. The collection of people was +motley. Above, all the sky seemed brought into insistent notice as a +roof or covering, partly because pale pink streamers of flickering +northern light were passing over it, partly because the leader of the +crowd, an old man, by looking upwards, drew the gaze of all to follow +whither his had gone. + +Trenholme heard his loud voice calling: "Behold He shall come again, and +every eye shall look on Him Whom they have pierced. Blessed are those +servants whom their Lord when He cometh shall find watching." + +The scene was foreign to life in Chellaston. Trenholme, who had no mind +to stand on the skirts of the crowd, thrust his reins into the hand of +his rustic groom, and went up the broad steps of the hotel, knowing that +he would there have his inquiries most quickly answered. + +In the bar-room about thirty men were crowded about the windows, looking +at the preacher, not listening, for the double glass, shut out the +preacher's voice. They were interested, debating loudly among +themselves, and when they saw who was coming up the steps, they said to +each other and the landlord, "Put it to the Principal." There were men +of all sorts in this group, most of them very respectable; but when +Trenholme stood inside the door, his soft hat shading his shaven face, +his fur-lined driving coat lying back from the finer cloth it covered, +he was a very different sort of man from any of them. He did not know +that it was merely by the influence of this difference (of which perhaps +he was less conscious than any of them) that they were provoked to +question him. Hutchins, the landlord, sat at the back of the room on his +high office chair. + +"Good evening, Principal," said he. "Glad to see you in the place again, +sir. Have you heard of a place called Turrifs Road Station? 'Tain't on +our map." + +Trenholme gave the questioner a severe glance of inquiry. The scene +outside, and his proposed inquiry concerning it, passed from his mind, +for he had no means of divining that this question referred to it. The +place named was known to him only by his brother's letter. The men, he +saw, were in a rough humour, and because of the skeleton in his closet +he jumped to the thought that something had transpired concerning his +brother, something that caused them to jeer. He did not stop to think +what it might be. His moral nature stiffened itself to stand for truth +and his brother at all costs. + +"I know the place;" he said. + +His words had a stern impressiveness which startled his hearers. They +were only playing idly with the pros and cons of a newspaper tale; but +this man, it would seem, treated the matter very seriously. + +Hutchins had no desire to annoy, but he did not know how to desist from +further question, and, supposing that the story of Cameron was known, he +said in a more ingratiating way: + +"Well, but, sir, you don't want us to believe the crazy tale of the +station hand there, that he saw the dead walk?" + +Again there was that in Trenholme's manner which astonished his +hearers. Had they had the slightest notion they were offending him, they +would have known it was an air of offence, but, not suspecting that, +they could only judge that he thought the subject a solemn one. + +"I would have you believe his word, certainly. He is a man of honour." + +A facetious man here took his pipe out of his mouth and winked to his +companions. "You've had private information to that effect, I suppose, +Principal." + +Very haughtily Trenholme assented. + +He had not been in the room more than a few moments when all this had +passed. He was handed a newspaper, which gave still another account of +the remote incident which was now at last ticklings the ears of the +public, and he was told that the man Cameron was supposed to be the +preacher who was now without. He heard what part Harkness had played, +and he saw that his brother's name was not mentioned in the public +print, was apparently not known. He took a little pains to be genial (a +thing he was certainly not in the habit of doing in that room), in order +to dissipate any impression his offended manner might have given, and +went home. + +It is not often a man estimates at all correctly the effect of his own +words and looks; he would need to be a trained actor to do this, and, +happily, most men are not their own looking-glasses. Trenholme thought +he had behaved in a surly and stiff manner, and, had the subject been +less unpleasant, he would rather have explained at once where and who +his brother was. This was his remembrance of his call at the hotel, but +the company there saw it differently. + +No sooner had he gone than the facetious man launched his saw-like voice +again upon the company. "He had private information on the subject, _he +had_." + +"There's one sure thing," said a stout, consequential man; "he believes +the whole thing, the Principal does." + +A commercial traveller who was acquainted with the place put in his +remark. "There isn't a man in town that I wouldn't have expected to see +gulled sooner." + +To which a thin, religious man, who, before Trenholme entered, had +leaned to the opinion that there were more things in the world than they +could understand, now retorted that it was more likely that the last +speaker was gulled himself. Principal Trenholme, he asserted, wasn't a +man to put his faith in anything without proofs. + +Chellaston was not a very gossiping place. For the most part the people +had too much to do, and were too intent upon their own business, to take +much trouble to retail what they chanced to hear; but there are some +things which, as the facetious man observed, the dead in their graves +would gossip about if they could; and one of these themes, according to +him, was that Principal Trenholme believed there had been something +supernatural about the previous life of the old preacher. The story went +about, impressing more particularly the female portion of the community, +but certainly not without influence upon the males also. Portly men, who +a week before would have thought themselves compromised by giving a +serious thought to the narrative, now stood still in the street to get +the chance of hearing the preacher, and felt that in doing so they were +wrapped in all the respectability of the cloth of Trenholme's coats, and +standing firm on the letters of his Oxford degree and upon all the +learning of the New College. + +They did not believe the story themselves. No, there was a screw loose +somewhere; but Principal Trenholme had some definite knowledge of the +matter. The old man had been in a trance, a very long trance, to say the +least of it, and had got up a changed creature. Principal Trenholme was +not prepared to scout the idea that he had been nearer to death than +falls to the lot of most living men. + +It will be seen that the common sense of the speakers shaped crude +rumour to suit themselves. Had they left it crude, it would have died. +It is upon the nice sense of the probable and possible in talkative men +that mad rumour feeds. + +As for Trenholme, he became more or less aware of the report that had +gone out about his private knowledge of old Cameron, but it was less +rather than more. The scholastic life of the college was quite apart +from the life of the village, and in the village those who talked most +about Cameron were the least likely to talk to Trenholme on any subject. +His friends were not those who were concerned with the rumour; but even +when he was taxed with it, the whole truth that he knew was no apparent +contradiction. He wrote to Alec, making further inquiries, but Alec had +retreated again many miles from the post. To be silent and ignore the +matter seemed to be his only course. + +Thus it happened that, because Harkness housed him in the hope of +working upon Eliza, and because Trenholme happened to have had a brother +at Turrifs Station, the strange old preacher found a longer resting +place and a more attentive hearing in the village of Chellaston than he +would have been likely to find elsewhere. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +There was in Chellaston a very small and poor congregation of the sect +called Adventists. The sect was founded by one Miller, a native of New +York State, a great preacher and godly man, who, from study of prophecy, +became convinced that the Second Coming of the Lord would take place in +the year 1843. He obtained a large following; and when the time passed +and his expectation was not fulfilled, this body, instead of melting +away, became gradually greater, and developed into a numerous and rather +influential sect. In the year of Miller's prediction, 1843, there had +been among his followers great excitement, awe and expectation; and the +set time passed, and the prediction had no apparent fulfilment, but lay +to every one's sight, like a feeble writing upon the sands of fantasy, +soon effaced by the ever flowing tide of natural law and orderly +progression. Now, that this was the case and that yet this body of +believers did not diminish but increased, did not become demoralised but +grew in moral strength, did not lose faith but continued to cherish a +more ardent hope and daily expectation of the Divine appearing, is no +doubt due to the working of some law which we do not understand, and +which it would therefore be unscientific to pronounce upon. + +The congregation of Adventists in Chellaston, however, was not +noticeable for size or influence. Some in the neighbourhood did not even +know that this congregation existed, until it put forth its hand and +took to itself the old preacher who was called Lazarus Cameron. They +understood his language as others did not; they believed that he had +come with a message for them; they often led him into their +meeting-place and into their houses; and he, perhaps merely falling into +the mechanical habit of going where he had been led, appeared in his own +fashion to consort with them. + +There, was something weird about the old preacher, although he was +healthy, vigorous, and kindly, clean-looking in body and soul; but the +aspect of any one is in the eye of the beholder. This man, whose mind +was blank except upon one theme, whose senses seemed lost except at rare +times, when awakened perhaps by an effort of his will, or perhaps by an +unbidden wave of psychical sympathy with some one to whom he was drawn +by unseen union, awoke a certain feeling of sensational interest in most +people when they approached him. The public were in the main divided +into two classes in their estimate of him--those who felt the force of +his religion, and argued therefrom that his opinions were to be +respected; and those who believed that his mind was insane, and argued +therefrom that his religion was either a fancy or a farce. At first +there was a great deal of talk about whether he should be put in a +madhouse or not; some called Harkness a philanthropist, and others +called him a meddling fellow. Soon, very soon, there was less talk: +that which is everybody's business is nobody's business. Harkness +continued to befriend him in the matter of food and lodging; the old man +grew to be at home in the Harmon house and its neglected surroundings. +When the will to do so seized him, he went into the village and lifted +up his voice, and preached the exactions of the love of the Son of God, +proclaiming that He would come again, and that quickly. + +The winter days had grown very long; the sun had passed the vernal +equinox, and yet it looked upon unbroken snowfields. Then, about the +middle of April, the snow passed quickly away in blazing sunshine, in a +thousand rivulets, in a flooded river. The roads were heavy with mud, +but the earth was left green, the bud of spring having been nurtured +beneath the kindly shelter of the snow. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Now came the most lovely moment of the year. All the trees were putting +forth new leaves, leaves so young, so tiny as yet, that one could see +the fowls of the air when they lodged in the branches--no small +privilege, for now the orange oriole, and the bluebird, and the +primrose-coloured finch, were here, there, and everywhere; and more +rarely the scarlet tanager. A few days before and they had not come; a +few days more and larger leaves would hide them perfectly. Just at this +time, too, along the roadsides, big hawthorn shrubs and wild plum were +in blossom, and in the sheltered fields the mossy sod was pied with +white and purple violets, whose flowerets so outstripped their +half-grown leaves that blue and milky ways were seen in woodland glades. + +With the sense of freedom that comes with the thus sudden advent of the +young summer, Winifred Rexford strayed out of the house one morning. +She did not mean to go, and when she went through the front gate she +only meant to go as far as the first wild plum-tree, to see if the white +bloom was turning purple yet, as Principal Trenholme had told her it +would. When she got to the first plum-tree she went on to the second. +Winifred wore a grey cotton dress; it was short, not yet to her ankles, +and her broad hat shaded her from the sun. When she reached the second +group of plum-trees she saw a scarlet tanager sitting on a telegraph +pole--for along the margin of the road, standing among uncut grass and +flowers and trees, tall barkless stumps were set, holding the wires on +high. Perhaps they were ugly things, but a tree whose surface is uncut +is turned on Nature's lathe; at any rate, to the child the poles were +merely a part of the Canadian road, and the scarlet tanager showed its +plumage to advantage as it sat on the bare wood. There was no turning +back then; even Sophia would have neglected her morning task to see a +tanager! She crept up under it, and the bird, like a streak of red +flame, shot forth from the pole, to a group of young pine trees further +on. + +So Winifred strayed up the road about a quarter of a mile, till she came +to the gate of the Harmon garden. The old house, always half concealed, +was quickly being entirely hidden by the massive Curtains the young +leaves were so busily weaving. The tanager turned in here, as what bird +would not when it spied a tract of ground where Nature was riotously +decking a bower with the products of all the roots and seeds of a +deserted garden! There was many a gap in the weather-beaten fence where +the child might have followed, but she dare not, for she was in great +awe of the place, because the preacher who was said to have died and +come to life again lived there. She only stood and looked through the +fence, and the tanager--having flitted near the house--soared and +settled among the feathery boughs of a proud acacia tree; she had to +look across half an acre of bushes to see him, and then he was so high +and so far that it seemed (as when looking at the stars) she did not +see him, but only the ray of scarlet light that travelled from him +through an atmosphere of leaflets. It was very trying, for any one knows +that it is _something_ to be able to say that you have come to close +quarters with a scarlet tanager. + +Winifred, stooping and looking through the fence, soon heard the college +bell jangle; she knew that it was nine o'clock, and boys and masters +were being ingathered for morning work. The college buildings in their +bare enclosure stood on the other side of the road. Winifred would have +been too shy to pass the playground while the boys were out, but now +that every soul connected with the place would be indoors, she thought +she might go round the sides of the Harmon garden and see the red bird +much nearer from a place she thought of. + +This place was nothing but a humble, disused, and untidy burying-ground, +that occupied the next lot in the narrow strip of land that here for a +mile divided road and river. Winifred ran over the road between the +Harmon garden and the college fence, and, climbing the log fence, stood +among the quiet gravestones that chronicled the past generations of +Chellaston. Here grass and wild flowers grew apace, and close by ran the +rippling river reflecting the violet sky above. A cemetery, every one +knows, is a place where any one may walk or sit as long as he likes, but +Winifred was surprised to find Principal Trenholme's housekeeper there +before her; and moreover, this staid, sad woman was in the very place +Winifred was going to, for she was looking through the fence that +enclosed the Harmon garden. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Martha," said Winifred politely, concealing her +surprise. + +"I've been milking," said the sad woman, glancing slightly at a pail of +foaming milk that she had set for greater security between two +grave-heaps. + +Winifred came and took her place beside the housekeeper, and they both +looked through the paling of the Harmon property. + +The tanager was still on the acacia, from this nearer point looking like +a great scarlet blossom of some cactus, so intense was the colour; but +Winifred was distracted from her interest in the bird by seeing the old +house more plainly than she had ever seen it before. It stood, a large +substantial dwelling, built not without the variety of outline which +custom has given to modern villas, but with all its doors and windows on +this side fastened by wooden shutters, that, with one or two exceptions, +were nailed up with crossbeams and overgrown with cobwebs. Winifred +surveyed it with an interested glance. + +"Did you come to see him?" whispered the housekeeper. + +Winifred's eye reverted to the tanager of which, on the whole, her mind +was more full. "Yes"--she whispered the word for fear of startling it. + +"I should think yer ma would want you in of a morning, or Miss Sophia +would be learning you yer lessons. When I was your age--But"--sadly--"it +stands to reason yer ma, having so many, and the servant gone, and the +cows comin' in so fast these days one after t'other, that they can't +learn you much of anything reg'lar." + +Winifred acquiesced politely. She was quite conscious of the +shortcomings in the system of home education as it was being applied to +her in those days; no critic so keen in these matters as the pupil of +fourteen! + +"Well now, it's a pity," said the housekeeper, sincerely, "and they do +say yer ma does deplorable bad cooking, and yer sisters that's older +than you aren't great hands at learning." The housekeeper sat down on a +grave near the paling, as if too discouraged at the picture she had +drawn to have energy to stand longer. + +Winifred looked at the tanager, at the housekeeper, and round her at the +happy morning. This sad-eyed, angular woman always seemed to her more +like a creature out of a solemn story, or out of a stained-glass window, +than an ordinary person whose comments could be offensive. They had +talked together before, and each in her own way took a serious interest +in the other. + +"Sister Sophia has learned to cook very nicely," said the child, but not +cheerfully. It never seemed to her quite polite to be cheerful when she +was talking to Mrs. Martha. + +"Yes, child; but she can't do everything"--with a sigh--"she's put upon +dreadful as it is." Then in a minute, "What made you think of coming +here after him?" + +"I think it's so wonderful." The child's eyes enlarged as she peered +through the fence again at the scarlet bird. + +"Lolly, child! I'm glad to hear you say that," said Mrs. Martha, +strongly. "He's far above and beyond--he's a very holy man." + +Winifred perceived now that she was talking of old Cameron, and she +thought it more polite not to explain that she had misunderstood. +Indeed, all other interests in her mind became submerged in wonder +concerning the old man as thus presented. + +"He's mad, isn't he?" + +"No, he isn't." + +"I knew he was very good, but couldn't he be good and mad too?" + +"No," said Mrs. Martha; and the serious assertion had all the more +effect because it stood alone, unpropped by a single reason. + +"When I've milked the Principal's special cow I often come here of a +morning, and sometimes I see the saint walking under the trees. I don't +mind telling you, child, for you've a head older than yer years, but you +mustn't speak of it again. I'd not like folks to know." + +"I won't tell," whispered Winifred, eagerly. She felt inexpressibly +honoured by the confidence. "Do you think he'll come out now?" Awe and +excited interest, not unmingled with fear, were taking possession of +her. She crouched down beside the solemn woman, and looked through at +the house and all its closed windows. The hedge was alive with birds +that hopped and piped unnoticed, even the scarlet bird was forgotten. + +"Mrs. Martha," she whispered, "I heard papa say Cameron believed that +our Saviour was soon coming back again, and only those people would go +with Him who were watching and waiting. Mr. Trenholme said every one was +mad who thought that." + +"There's a sight of people will tell you you're mad if you're only +fervent." + +The child did not know precisely what "fervent" meant, but she began to +doubt Trenholme's positive knowledge on the subject. "Do you believe the +end of the world's coming so soon?" + +"Lor, child! what do I know but the world might go on a good bit after +that? I can't tell from my Bible whether the Lord will take us who are +looking for Him up to His glory for a while, or whether He'll appoint us +a time of further trial while He's conquering the earth; but I do know +it wouldn't matter much which, after we'd heard Him speak to each of us +by name and seen His face." The sad woman looked positively happy while +she spoke. + +"Oh, Mrs. Martha, are _you_ watching like that? But how can you all the +time--you must sleep and work, you know?" + +"Yes, child; but the heart can watch; and He knows we must sleep and +work; and for that reason I'm not so sure but, if we're faithful, He +might in mercy give us a word beforehand to let us know when to be +expecting more particularly. I don't know, you know, child; I'm only +saying what might be." + +"But what makes you think so, Mrs. Martha?" + +Winifred was quick-witted enough to perceive something withheld. + +"There's things that it's not right for any one to know but those as +will reverence them." + +"Oh, I will, I will," said Winifred, clasping her hands. + +"As I understand it, Mr. Cameron's had no assurance yet." + +Winifred did not ask what this meant. She felt that she was listening +to words that, if mysterious, were to be pondered in silence. + +"You know the poor thing whose husband is always tipsy--drunken Job they +call him--that you've seen listening to Mr. Cameron?--and that weakly +Mr. McNider, with the little boy?" + +"Yes," assented Winifred. + +"He told them," whispered the housekeeper, "that when he was agonising +in prayer it came into his mind to _wait until August this year_. He +hasn't any assurance what it may have meant; but that may come later, +and p'r'aps the days may be told him; and he's awaiting, and we're +awaiting too. There, that's all I have to tell, child, and I must be +going." + +She gathered her lean figure up from the hillock, and took up her pail. + +As for the girl Winifred, a terrible feeling of fear had come over her. +All the bright world of sun and flowers seemed suddenly overshadowed by +the lowering cloud of an awful possibility. She would no more have +allowed herself to be left alone in that sunny corner of the glad spring +morning than she would have remained alone where visible danger beset +her. Her face bathed in the sudden tears that came so easily to her +girlish eyes, she sprang like a fawn after her companion and grasped her +skirt as she followed. + +"How you take on!" sighed the woman, turning. "Do you mean to say you +ain't, glad?" + +"I'm frightened," gasped the girl. + +"And you been confirmed this spring! What did it mean to you if you +ain't glad there's ever such a little chance of perhaps seeing Him +before the year's out." + +They both climbed the fence, handing over the milk-pail between them. +When they had got on to the road and must part, the housekeeper spoke. + +"I tell you what it is, Winifred Rexford; we've not one of us much to +bring Him in the way of service. If there's one thing more than another +I'm fond of it's to have my kitchen places to myself, but I've often +thought I ought to ask yer ma to send one of you over every day to learn +from me how a house ought to be kept and dinner cooked. Ye'd learn more +watching me in a month, you know, than ye'd learn with yer ma a fussin' +round in six years. Don't tell yer ma it's a trial to me, but just ask +her if she'll send you over for an hour or two every morning." + +"Thank you," said Winifred, reluctantly. "Do you think I _ought_ to +come?" + +"Well, I'd want to be a bit more use to my ma if I was you." + +"It's very kind of you," acknowledged Winifred; "but--but--Mrs. Martha, +if it was true about this--_this August,_ you know--what would be the +use of learning?" + +"Child," said the woman, and if her voice was sad it was also vehement, +"them as are mad in religion are them as thinks doing the duty of each +day for _His_ sake ain't enough without seeing where's the _use_ of +doing what He puts to our hand." + +"Mrs. Martha," besought Winifred, timidly, "I--don't like cooking; but +do you think if I did this I should perhaps get to be glad to think--be +glad to think our Saviour might be coming again so soon?" + +"To love Him is of His grace, and you must get it direct from Him; but +it's wonderful how doing the best we can puts heart into our prayers." + +The scarlet tanager rose and flew from tree to tree like a darting +flame, but Winifred had forgotten him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Midsummer came with its culmination of heat and verdure; and a great +epoch it was in the Chellaston year, for it brought the annual influx of +fashionable life from Quebec and Montreal. To tell the plain truth, this +influx only consisted of one or two families who had chosen this as a +place in which to build summer residences, and some hundred other people +who, singly or in parties, took rooms in the hotel for the hot season; +but it made a vast difference in the appearance of the quiet place to +have several smart phaetons, and one carriage and pair, parading its +roads, and to have its main street enlivened by the sight of the gay +crowd on the hotel verandahs. + +"Now," said Miss Bennett, calling upon Miss Rexford, "there will be a +few people to talk to, and we shall see a little life. These people are +really a very good sort; you'll begin to have some enjoyment." + +The Rexfords had indeed been advertised more than once of the advantage +that would accrue to them from the coming of the town-folks, and this +chiefly by Trenholme himself. + +"The place will seem far different," he had said, "when you have passed +one of our summers. We really have some delightful pleasure parties here +in summer." And another time he had said, "When Mrs. Brown and her +daughters come to their house on the hill I want you to know them. They +are such true-hearted people. All our visitors are genuine Canadians, +not immigrants as we and our neighbours are; and yet, do you know, they +are so nice you would _hardly_ know them from English people. Oh, they +add to our social life very much when they come!" + +He had said so many things of this sort, ostensibly to Mrs. Rexford, +really to Sophia, who was usually a party to his calls on her mother, +that he had inspired in them some of his own pleasurable anticipation. +It was not until the summer visitors were come that they realised how +great was the contrast between their own bare manner of living and the +easy-going expenditure of these people, who were supposed to be such +choice acquaintances for them. Everything is relative. They had not been +mortified by any comparison of their own circumstances and those of +Chellaston families, because, on one account and another, there had +always appeared to be something to equalise the difference. Either their +neighbours, if better off, had not long ago begun as meagrely, or else +they lacked those advantages of culture or social standing which the +Rexfords could boast. Such are the half conscious refuges of our +egotism. But with the introduction of this new element it was different. +Not that they drew any definite comparison between themselves and their +new neighbours--for things that are different cannot be compared, and +the difference on all points was great; but part of Trenholme's prophecy +took place; the life in that pleasant land did appear more and more +desirable as they witnessed the keen enjoyment that these people, who +were not workers, took in it--only (Trenholme and Miss Bennett seemed to +have overlooked this) the leisure and means for such enjoyment were not +theirs. + +"Oh, mamma," said Blue and Red, "we saw the Miss Browns driving on the +road, and they had such pretty silver-grey frocks, with feathers in +their hats to match. We wish we could have feathers to match our +frocks." + +And later Sophia, seeking her step-mother, found her in her own room, +privately weeping. The rare sight rent her heart. + +"If I am their mother" (she began her explanation hurriedly, wiping her +tears) "I can say truthfully they're as pretty a pair of girls as may be +seen on a summer day. You had your turn, Sophia; it's very noble of you +to give up so much for us now, but it can't be said that you didn't have +your turn of gaiety." + +Now Blue and Red were not in need of frocks, for before they left +England their mother had stocked their boxes as though she was never to +see a draper's shop again. But then, she had been in a severely +utilitarian mood, and when she cut out the garments it had not occurred +to her that Fashion would ever come across the fields of a Canadian +farm. + +Sophia rallied her on this mistake now, but resolutely abstracted +certain moneys from the family purse and purchased for the girls white +frocks. She did not omit blue and red ribbons to distinguish between the +frocks and between the wearers. Trenholme had remarked of the girls +lately that neither would know which was herself and which the other if +the badge of colour were removed, and Sophia had fallen into the way of +thinking a good deal of all he said. She was busy weighing him in the +scales of her approval and disapproval, and the scales, she hardly knew +why, continued to balance with annoying nicety. + +For the making up of the frocks, she was obliged to apply for advice to +Eliza, who was the only patron of dressmakers with whom she was +intimate. + +"I think, on the whole, she is satisfactory," said Eliza of one whom she +had employed. "She made the dress I have on, for instance; it fits +pretty well, you see." + +Sophia did not resent this. Eliza had had a rocket-like career of +success in the hotel which pleased and amused her; but she felt that to +forgive the Brown family for having a carriage and pair required +large-mindedness while her father's carriage still stood in the +unfurnished drawing-room, and even Mrs. Rexford had given up hopes of +finding horses to draw it. + +Very soon after, their annual arrival, Mr. and Mrs. Brown and their two +daughters came kindly to call on the new English family. Principal +Trenholme found time to run over by appointment and introduce his +friends. The visitors were evidently generous-minded, wholesome sort of +people, with no high development of the critical faculty, travelled, +well-read, merry, and kind. Sophia confessed to herself after the first +interview that, had it not been for their faulty degree of wealth and +prosperity, she would have liked them very much. Mrs. Bennett, whose +uncle had been an admiral, considered them desirable friends for her +daughter, and this was another reason why, out of pure contrariness, +Sophia found liking difficult; but she determined for Trenholme's sake +to try--a good resolution which lasted until she had taken Blue and Red +to return the call, but no longer. + +"And Miss Rexford," said good Mrs. Brown, "we hear you have had the +privilege of knowing Principal Trenholme for a long time before he came +out here. He is a very _good_ man; for so comparatively young a man, and +one, as you might say, with so many worldly advantages, I think it is +perhaps remarkable that he is so spiritually-minded. I count it a +blessing that we have the opportunity of attending his church during the +summer months." Simple sense and perfect sincerity were written on every +line of Mrs. Brown's motherly face. + +"He really is very good," said one of the daughters. "Do you know, Miss +Rexford, we have a friend who has a son at the college. He really went +to the college a _very_ naughty boy, no one could manage him; and he's +so changed--such a nice fellow, and doing so well. His mother says she +could thank Principal Trenholme on her knees, if it was only the +conventional thing to do." + +"He is a most devoted Christian," added Mrs. Brown, using the religious +terms to which she was accustomed, "and I believe he makes it a matter +of prayer that no young man should leave his college without deepened +religious life. I believe in prayer as a power; don't you, Miss +Rexford?" + +"Yes," replied Sophia, tersely. She did not feel at that moment as if +she wanted to discuss the point. + +"And then he's so jolly," put in the youngest Miss Brown, who was a +hearty girl. "That's the sort of religion for me, the kind that can +rollick--of course I mean _out of church_," she added naively. + +Blue and Red sat shyly upon their chairs and listened to this discourse. +It might have been Greek for all the interest they took in it. + +As for Sophia, it could not be said to lack interest for her--it was +very plain, she thought, why Robert Trenholme thought so highly of the +Browns. + +There was a youth belonging to this family who was a year or two older +than Blue and Red. His mother, sent for him to come into the room, and +introduced him to them. He was a nice youth, but precocious; he said to +them: + +"I suppose you think Chellaston is a very pretty place, but I'll tell +you what our natural beauties lack as yet. It is such a literature as +you have in England, which has done so much to endear the wildflowers +and birds and all natural objects there to the heart of the people. Our +Canadian flora and fauna are at present unsung, and therefore, to a +large extent, unobserved by the people, for I think the chief use of the +poet is to interpret nature to the people--don't you?" + +Blue ventured "yes," and Red lisped in confusion, "Do you think so, +really?" but as for any opinion on the subject they had none. Sophia, +fearing that her sisters would be cast aside as hopeless dunces, was +obliged to turn partially from the praise that was being lavished on +Trenholme to make some pithy remark upon the uses of the poet. + +Sophia, although half conscious of her own unreasonableness, decided now +that the Browns might go one way and she another; but she was indebted +to this visit for a clue in analysing the impression Trenholme made upon +her. His new friends had called him noble; she knew now that when she +knew him ten years before he had seemed to her a more noble character. + +In the next few weeks she observed that in every picnic, every pleasure +party, by land or water, Principal Trenholme was the most honoured +guest, and, indeed, the most acceptable cavalier. His holidays had come, +and he was enjoying them in spite of much work that he still exacted +from himself. She wondered at the manner in which he seemed to enjoy +them, and excused herself from participation. It was her own doing that +she stayed at home, yet, perversely, she felt neglected. She hardly knew +whether it was low spite or a heaven-born solicitude that made her feel +bitter regret at the degeneracy she began to think she saw in him. + +In due time there came a pleasure party of which Trenholme was to be the +host. It was to take place in a lovely bit of wilderness ground by the +river side, at the hour of sunset and moonrise, in order that, if the +usual brilliancy attended these phenomena, the softest glories of light +might be part of the entertainment. Music was also promised. Principal +Trenholme came himself to solicit the attendance of the Miss Rexfords; +but Sophia, promising for Blue and Red, pleaded lack of time for +herself. "And I wish your scheme success," cried she, "but I need not +wish you pleasure since, as on all such occasions, you will 'sit +attentive to your own applause.'" + +She felt a little vexed that he did not seem hurt by her quotation, but +only laughed. She did not know that, although the adulation he received +was sweet to him, it was only sweet that summer because he thought it +must enhance his value in her eyes. Some one tells of a lover who gained +his point by putting an extra lace on his servants' liveries; and the +savage sticks his cap with feathers: but these artifices do not always +succeed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Up the road, about a mile beyond the college and the Harmon house, there +was a wilderness of ferns and sumac trees, ending in a stately pine +grove that marked the place where road and river met. Thither Blue and +Red were sent on the evening of Trenholme's picnic. They were dressed in +their new frocks, and had been started at the time all the picnic-goers +were passing up the road. They walked alone, but they were consigned to +Mrs. Bennett's care at the place of assembly. Several carriages full of +guests passed them. + +"I'm growing more shy every moment," said Blue. + +"So am I," sighed Red. + +Young girls will make haunting fears for themselves out of many things, +and these two were beset with a not unnatural fear of young men who +would talk to them about flora and fauna. Sophia had told them that they +looked like ninnies when they appeared not to know what people meant, +and they could not endure the thought. + +Sighed Blue at last, "Do you think it would be dreadfully wicked not to +go?" + +All the guests had passed them by this time, for they had loitered +sadly. It was not that they were not proud of their clothes; they were +as proud as peacocks, and minced along; but then it was enough just to +wear one's fine clothes and imagine that they might meet somebody who +would admire them. + +"Oh, Blue," said Red suddenly, withholding her steps, "suppose we didn't +go, and were to walk back just a little later, don't you think we might +meet--?" There was no name, but a sympathetic understanding. It was +Harkness of whom they thought. + +"I'm sure he's a great deal better looking than young Mr. Brown, and I +think it's unkind to mind the way he talks. Since Winifred had her teeth +done, I think we might just bow a little, if we met him on the road." + +"I think it would be naughty," said Red, reflectively, "but nice--much +nicer than a grown-up picnic." + +"Let's do it," said Blue. "We're awfully good generally; that ought to +make up." + +The sunset cloud was still rosy, and the calm bright moon was riding up +the heavens when these two naughty little maidens, who had waited out of +sight of the picnic ground, judged it might be the right time to be +walking slowly home again. + +"I feel convinced he won't come," said Blue, "just because we should so +much like to pass him in these frocks." + +Now an evil conscience often is the rod of its own chastisement; but in +this instance there was another factor in the case, nothing less than a +little company of half tipsy men, who came along from the town, +peacefully enough, but staggering visibly and talking loud, and the +girls caught sight of them when they had come a long way from the +pleasure party and were not yet very near any house. The possibility of +passing in safety did not enter their panic-stricken minds. They no +sooner spied the men than they stepped back within the temporary shelter +of a curve in the road, speechless with terror. They heard the voices +and steps coming nearer. They looked back the long road they had come, +and perceived that down its length they could not fly. It was in this +moment of despair that a brilliant idea was born in the mind of Red. She +turned to the low open fence of the little cemetery. + +"Come, we can pretend to be tombs," she cried, and whirled Blue over the +fence. They climbed and ran like a streak of light, and before the +drunkards were passing the place, the girls were well back among marble +gravestones. + +Some artistic instinct warned them that two such queer monuments ought +to be widely apart to escape notice. So, in the gathering dimness, each +knelt stock still, without even the comfort of the other's proximity to +help her through the long, long, awful minutes while the roisterous +company were passing by. The men proceeded slowly; happily they had no +interest in inspecting the gravestones of the little cemetery; but had +they been gazing over the fence with eager eyes, and had their designs +been nothing short of murderous upon any monument they chanced to find +alive, the hearts of the two erring maidens could not have beat with +more intense alarm. Fear wrought in them that sort of repentance which +fear is capable of working. "Oh, we're very, very naughty; we ought to +have gone to the picnic when Sophia was so good as to buy us new +frocks," they whispered in their hearts; and the moon looked down upon +them benevolently. + +The stuff of their repentance was soon to be tested, for the voice of +Harkness was heard from over the Harmon fence. + +"Oh, Glorianna! there was never such sculptures. Only want wings. Hats +instead of wings is a little curious even for a funeral monument." + +The two girls stood huddled together now in hasty consultation. "We +didn't mean to be sculptures," spoke up Red, defending her brilliant +idea almost before she was aware. "There's nothing but stand-up slabs +here; we thought we'd look something like them." + +"We were so frightened at the men," said Blue. They approached the fence +as they spoke. + +"Those men wouldn't have done you one mite of harm," said the dentist, +looking down from a height of superior knowledge, "and if they had, I'd +have come and made a clearance double quick." + +They did not believe his first assertion, and doubted his ability to +have thus routed the enemy, but Blue instinctively replied, "You see, we +didn't know you were here, or _of course_ we shouldn't have been +frightened." + +"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" remarked the dentist. + +"Yes, but I think perhaps,"--Red spoke doubtfully--"we ought to be going +home now." + +She was a little mortified to find that he saw the full force of the +suggestion. + +"Yes, I suppose your mother'll be looking for you." + +They both explained, merely to set him right, that this would not be the +case, as they had started to Principal Trenholme's picnic. + +He asked, with great curiosity, why they were not there, and they +explained as well as they could, adding, in a little burst of +semi-confidence, "It's rather more fun to talk to you across a fence +than sit up and be grand in company." + +He smiled at them good-naturedly. + +"Say," said he, "if your mother let you stay out, 'twas because you were +going to be at the Trenholme party. You're not getting benefit of clergy +here, you know." + +"We're going;"--loftily--"we're only waiting to be sure there's no more +drunken people." + +"I was just about to remark that I'd do myself the pleasure of escorting +you." + +At this they whispered together. Then, aloud--"Thank you very much, but +we're not afraid; we're often out as late in papa's fields. We're +afraid mamma wouldn't like it if you came with us." + +"Wouldn't she now?" said Harkness. "Why not? Is she stuck up?" + +Blue felt that a certain romance was involved in acknowledging her +parents' antipathy and her own regret. + +"Rather," she faltered. "Papa and mamma are rather proud, I'm afraid." +It was a bold flight of speech; it quite took Red's breath away. "And +so,"--Blue sighed as she went on--"I'm afraid we mustn't talk to you any +more; we're very sorry. We--I'm sure--we think you are very nice." + +Her feeling tone drew from him a perfectly sincere reply, "So I am; I'm +really a very nice young man. My mother brought me up real well." He +added benevolently, "If you're scared of the road, come right through my +place here, and I'll set you on your own farm double quick." + +It was with pleasurable fear that the girls got through the fence with +his help. They whispered to each other their self-excuses, saying that +mamma would like them to be in their own fields as quickly as possible. + +The moonlight was now gloriously bright. The shrubs of the old garden, +in full verdure, were mysteriously beautiful in the light. The old house +could be clearly seen. Harkness led them across a narrow open space in +front of it, that had once been a gravel drive, but was now almost green +with weeds and grasses. On the other side the bushes grew, as it seemed, +in great heaps, with here and there an opening, moonlit, mysterious. As +they passed quickly before the house, the girls involuntarily shied like +young horses to the further side of Harkness, their eyes glancing +eagerly for signs of the old man. In a minute they saw the door in an +opening niche at the corner of the house; on its steps sat the old +preacher, his grey hair shining, his bronzed face bathed in moonlight. +He sat peaceful and quiet, his hands clasped. Harkness next led them +through, a dark overgrown walk, and, true to his promise, brought them +at once to the other fence. He seemed to use the old paling as a gate +whenever the fancy took him. He pulled away two of the rotten soft wood +pales and helped the girls gallantly on to their father's property. + +"Charmed, I'm sure, to be of use, ladies!" cried he, and he made his +bow. + +On the other side of their own fence, knee-deep in dry uncut grass, they +stood together a few paces from the gap he had made, and proffered their +earnest thanks. + +"Say," said Harkness, abruptly, "d'you often see Miss White up to your +house?" + +"Eliza, do you mean?" said they, with just a slight intonation to +signify that they did not look upon her as a "Miss." Their further +answer represented the exact extent of their knowledge in the matter. +"She didn't come much for a good while, but last week she came to tea. +It is arranged for mamma to ask her to tea once in a while, and we're +all to try and be nice to her, because--well, our sister says, now that +people pay her attentions, she ought to have a place where she can come +to, where she can feel she has friends." + +"How d'ye mean--'pay her attentions'?" + +"That was what we heard sister Sophia say," they replied, pursing up +their little lips. They knew perfectly well what the phrase meant, but +they were not going to confess it. The arts of those who are on the +whole artless are very pretty. + +"Say, d'ye think Miss White's got the least bit of a heart about her +anywheres?" + +"We don't know exactly what you mean"--with dignity--"but one of the +ladies who boards at the hotel told mamma that Eliza _always_ behaves +_admirably_'; that's part of the reason we're having her to tea." + +"Did she, though? If having about as much feeling as this fence has is +such fine behaviour--!" He stopped, apparently not knowing exactly how +to end his sentence. + +The girls began to recede. The grass grew so thin and dry that they did +little harm by passing through it. It sprang up in front of their feet +as they moved backwards in their white dresses. All colour had passed +from the earth. The ripple of the river and the cry of the +whip-poor-will rose amid the murmur of the night insects. + +"Do you sometimes come down here of an evening?" asked the young man. +"At sunset it's real pleasant." + +"Sometimes," answered Blue. Her soft voice only just reached him. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +So the days wore on till August. One morning Cyril Harkness lay in wait +for Eliza. It was early; none of the boarders at the hotel were down +yet. Eliza, who was always about in very good time, found him in the +corridor on the first floor. He did not often attempt to speak to her +now. + +"Say," said he, gloomily, "come into my office. I've something to tell." + +The gloom of his appearance, so unusual to him, gave her a presage of +misfortune. She followed him into the room of dental appliances. + +He told her to sit down, and she did so. She sat on a stiff sofa against +the wall. He stood with one elbow on the back of the adjustable chair. +Behind him hung a green rep curtain, which screened a table at which he +did mechanical work. They were a handsome pair. The summer morning +filled the room with light, and revealed no flaw in their young +comeliness. + +"Look here! It's January, February, March"--he went on enumerating the +months till he came to August--"that I've been hanging on here for no +other earthly reason than to inspire in you the admiration for me that +rises in me for you quite spontaneous." + +"Is that all you have to say?" + +"Isn't that enough--eight months out of a young man's life?" + +"It's not enough to make me waste my time at this hour in the morning." + +"Well, it's _not_ all, but it's what I'm going to say first; so you'll +have to listen to it for my good before you listen to the other for your +own. I've done all I could, Miss White, to win your affection." + +He paused, looking at her, but she did not even look at him. She did +appear frightened, and, perceiving this, he took a tone more gentle and +pliant. + +"I can't think why you won't keep company with me. I'm a real lovable +young man, if you'd only look at the thing fairly." + +He had plenty of humour in him, but he did not seem to perceive the +humour of acting as showman to himself. He was evidently sincere. + +"Why, now, one of my most lovable qualities is just that when I do +attach myself I find it awful hard to pull loose again. Now, that's just +what you don't like in me; but if you come to think of it, it's a real +nice characteristic. And then, again, I'm not cranky; I'm real amiable; +and you can't find a much nicer looking fellow than me. You'll be sorry, +you may believe, if you don't cast a more favourable eye toward me." + +She did not reply, so he continued urging. "If it's because you're stuck +up, it must have been those poor English Rexfords put it into your head, +for you couldn't have had such ideas before you came here. Now, if +that's the barrier between us, I can tell you it needn't stand, for I +could have one of those two pretty young ladies of theirs quick as not. +If I said 'Come, my dear, let's go off by train and get married, and ask +your father's blessing after,' she'd come." + +"How dare you tell me such a falsehood!" Eliza rose magnificently. + +"Oh," said he, "I meet them occasionally." + +She looked at him in utter disdain. She did not believe him; it was only +a ruse to attract her. + +"How do you know," she asked fiercely, "what ideas I could have had or +not before I went to the Rexfords?" + +"That's a part of what I was going to say next"--she sat down +again--"but I don't _want_ to hurt you, mind. I'd make it real easy for +you if you'd let me cherish you." + +"What have you to say?" + +"Just this--that it'll all have to come out some time; you know to what +I allude." + +She did not look as if she knew. + +"Upon my word!" he ejaculated admiringly, "you do beat all." + +"Well, what are you talking of?" she asked. + +"In this world or the next, all you've done will be made public, you +know," he replied, not without tone of menace. "But what I want to speak +about now is Father Cameron. I've got him here, and I've never regretted +the bread and shelter I give him, for he's a real nice old gentleman; +but I can't help him going to people's houses and putting ideas into +their heads--no more than the wind, I can't keep him. He's crazed, poor +old gentleman, that's what he is." + +"You ought never to have brought him here." + +"_You'd_ rather he'd been stoned in Quebec streets?" He looked at her +steadily. "It's because they all more than half believe that he got his +ideas when dead, and then came to life again, that he gets into harm. If +it wasn't for that tale against him he'd not have been hurt in Quebec, +and he'd not be believed by the folks here." + +"I thought you believed that too." + +He gave her a peculiar smile. "If you was to say right out now in public +that you knew he wasn't the man they take him for, but only a poor +maniac who don't know who he is himself, you'd put an end to the most +part of his influence." + +"What do I know about it?" she asked scornfully; but, in haste to +divert him from an answer, she went on, "I don't see that he does any +harm, any way. You say yourself he's as good as can be." + +"So he is, poor gentleman; but he's mad, and getting madder. I don't +know exactly what's brewing, but I tell you this, there's going to be +trouble of some sort before long." + +"What sort?" + +"Well, for one thing, drunken Job is calling out in the rum-hole that +he'll kill his wife if he finds her up to any more religious nonsense; +and she is up to something of that sort, and he's quite able to do it, +too. I heard him beating her the other night." + +Eliza shuddered. + +"I'm a kind-hearted fellow, Miss White," he went on, with feeling in his +voice. "I can't bear to feel that there's something hanging over the +heads of people like her--more than one of them perhaps--and that +they're being led astray when they might be walking straight on after +their daily avocations." + +"But what can they be going to do?" she asked incredulously, but with +curious anxiety. + +"Blest if I know! but I've heard that old man a-praying about what he +called 'the coming of the Lord,' and talking about having visions of +'the day and the month,' till I've gone a'most distracted, for otherwise +he does pray so beautiful it reminds me of my mother. He's talking of +'those poor sheep in the wilderness,' and 'leading them' to something. +He's mad, and there's a dozen of them ready to do any mad thing he +says." + +"You ought to go and tell the ministers--tell the men of the town." + +"Not I--nice fool I'd look! What in this world have I to accuse him of, +except what I've heard him praying about? I've done myself harm enough +by having him here." + +"What do you want me to do then?" + +"Whatever you like; I've told you the truth. There was a carter at +Turrifs drunk himself to death because of this unfortunate Mr. Cameron's +rising again--that's one murder; and there'll be another." + +With that he turned on his heel and left her in his own room. He only +turned once to look in at the door again. "If _you're_ in any trouble, +I'm real soft-hearted, Eliza; I'll be real good to you, though you've +been crusty to me." + +If she was in trouble then, she did not show it to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Nothing contributes more frequently to indecision of character in the +larger concerns of existence than a life overcrowded with effort and +performance. Had Robert Trenholme not been living at too great a pace, +his will, naturally energetic, would not, during that spring and summer, +have halted as it did between his love for Sophia Rexford and his shame +concerning his brother's trade. With the end of June his school had +closed for the summer, but at that time the congregation at his little +church greatly increased; then, too, he had repairs in the college to +superintend, certain articles to write for a Church journal, interesting +pupils to correspond with--in a word, his energy, which sometimes by +necessity and sometimes by ambition had become regulated to too quick a +pace, would not now allow him to take leisure when it offered, or even +to perceive the opportunity. His mind, habituated to unrest, was +perpetually suggesting to him things needing to be done, and he always +saw a mirage of leisure in front of him, and went on the faster in order +to come up to it. By this mirage he constantly vowed to himself that +when the opportunity came he would take time to think out some things +which had grown indistinct to him. At present the discomfort and sorrow +of not feeling at liberty to make love to the woman he loved was some +excuse for avoiding thought, and he found distraction in hard work and +social engagements. With regard to Sophia he stayed his mind on the +belief that if he dared not woo she was not being wooed, either by any +man who was his rival, or by those luxuries and tranquillities of life +which nowadays often lure young women to prefer single blessedness. + +In the meantime he felt he had done what he could by writing again and +again, and even telegraphing, to Turrifs Station. It is a great relief +to the modern mind to telegraph when impatient; but when there is +nothing at the other end of the wire but an operator who is under no +official obligation to deliver the message at an address many miles +distant, the action has only the utility already mentioned--the relief +it gives to the mind of the sender. The third week in August came, and +yet he had heard nothing more from Alec. Still, Alec had said he would +come in summer, and if the promise was kept he could not now be long, +and Robert clung to the hope that he would return with ambitions toward +some higher sphere of life, and in a better mind concerning the +advisability of not being too loquacious about his former trade. + +In this hope he took opportunity one day about this time, when calling +on Mrs. Rexford, to mention that Alec was probably coming. He desired, +he said, to have the pleasure of introducing him to her. + +"He is very true and simple-heaped," said the elder brother; "and from +the photograph you have seen, you will know he is a sturdy lad." He +spoke with a certain air of depression, which Sophia judged to relate to +wild oats she supposed this Alec to be sowing. "He was always his dear +father's favourite boy," added Trenholme, with a quite involuntary sigh. + +"A Benjamin!" cried Mrs. Rexford, but, with that quickness of mind +natural to her, she did not pause an instant over the thought. + +"Well, really, Principal Trenholme, it'll be a comfort to you to have +him under your own eye. I often say to my husband that that must be our +comfort now--that the children are all under our eye; and, indeed, with +but one sitting-room furnished, and so little outing except in our own +fields, it couldn't well be otherwise. It's an advantage in a way." + +"A doubtful advantage in some ways," said Sophia; but the little +children were now heard crying, so she ran from the room. + +"Ah, Principal Trenholme," cried the little step-mother, shaking her +head (she was sewing most vigorously the while), "if my children will +but profit by _her_ example! But, indeed, I reproach myself that she is +here at all, although she came against my desire. Sophia is not involved +in our--I might say poverty, Principal Trenholme." (It was the +first-time the word had crossed her lips, although she always conversed +freely to him.) "When I see the farm producing so little in comparison, +I may say, in confidence, _poverty_; but Sophia has sufficient income of +her own." "I did not know that," said Trenholme, sincerely. "She came +with us, for we couldn't think of taking any of it for the house +expenses if she was away; and, as it's not large, it's the more +sacrifice she makes. But Sophia--Sophia might have been a very rich +woman if she'd married the man she was engaged to. Mr. Monekton was only +too anxious to settle everything upon her." + +Trenholme had positively started at these words. He did not hear the +next remark. The eight years just passed of Sophia's life were quite +unknown to him, and this was a revelation. He began to hear the talk +again. + +"My husband said the jointure was quite remarkable. And then the +carriages and gowns he would have given! You should have seen the jewels +she had! And poor Mr. Monekton--it was one month off the day the wedding +was fixed, for when she broke it off. Suddenly she would have none of +it." + +Trying to piece together these staccato jottings by what he knew of the +character of his love, Trenholme's mind was sore with curiosity about it +all, especially with regard to the character of Mr. Monckton. + +"Perhaps"--he spoke politely, as if excusing the fickleness of the +absent woman--"perhaps some fresh knowledge concerning the gentleman +reached Miss Rexford." + +"For many a year we had known all that was to be known about Mr. +Monckton," declared the mother, vigorously. "Sophia changed her mind. It +was four years ago, but she might be Mrs. Monckton in a month if she'd +say the word. He has never been consoled; her father has just received a +letter from him to-day begging him to renew the subject with her; but +when Sophia changes once she's not likely to alter again. There's not +one in a thousand to equal her." + +Trenholme agreed perfectly with the conclusion, even if he did not see +that it was proved by the premises. He went away with his mind much +agitated and filled with new anxieties. The fact that she had once +consented to marry another seemed to him to make it more probable that +she might do so again. He had allowed himself to assume that since the +time when he had seen her as a young girl, the admired of all, Sophia +had drifted entirely out of that sort of relation to society; but now, +by this sudden alarm, she seemed to be again elevated on some pinnacle +of social success beyond his reach. It struck him, too, as discouraging +that he should be able to know so little about a girl he had loved in a +vague way so long, and now for a time so ardently, and who had dwelt for +months at his very door. He blamed the conventionalities of society that +made it impossible for him to ask her the thousand and one questions he +fain would ask, that refused him permission to ask any until he was +prepared to make that offer which involved the explanation from which he +shrank so much that he would fain know precisely what degree of evil he +must ask her to face before he asked at all. He told himself that he +shrank not so much on account of his own dislike, as on account of the +difficulty in which his offer and explanation must place her if she +loved him; for if she was not bound strongly by the prejudices of her +class, all those she cared for certainly were. On the other hand, if she +did not love him, then, indeed, he had reason to shrink from an +interview that would be the taking away of all his hope. Who would not +wrestle hard with hope and fear before facing such an alternative? +Certainly not a man of Trenholme's stamp. + +It is a mistake to suppose that decision and fearlessness are always the +attributes of strength. Angels will hover in the equipoise of indecision +while clowns will make up their minds. Many a fool will rush in to woo +and win a woman, who makes her after-life miserable by inconsiderate +dealings with incongruous circumstance, in that very unbending temper of +mind through which he wins at first. Trenholme did not love the less, +either as lover or brother, because he shrank, as from the galling of an +old wound, when the family trade was touched upon. He was not a weaker +man because he was capable of this long suffering. That nature has the +chance to be the strongest whose sensibilities have the power to draw +nourishment of pain and pleasure from every influence; and if such soul +prove weak by swerving aside because of certain pains, because of +stooping from the upright posture to gain certain pleasures, it still +may not be weaker than the more limited soul who knows not such +temptations. If Trenholme had swerved from the straight path, if he had +stooped from the height which nature had given him, the result of his +fault had been such array of reasons and excuses that he did not now +know that he was in fault, but only had hateful suspicion of it when he +was brought to the pass of explaining himself to his lady-love. The +murmurs of an undecided conscience seldom take the form of definite +self-accusation. They did not now; and Trenholme's suspicion that he was +in the wrong only obtruded itself in the irritating perception that his +trouble had a ludicrous side. It would have been easier for him to have +gone to Sophia with confession of some family crime or tragedy than to +say to her, "My father was, my brother is, a butcher; and I have allowed +this fact to remain untold!" It was not that he did not intend to prove +to her that his silence on this subject was simply wise; he still +writhed under the knowledge that such confession, if it did not evoke +her loving sympathy, might evoke her merriment. + +That afternoon, however, he made a resolution to speak to Sophia before +another twenty-four hours had passed--a resolution which was truly +natural in its inconsistency; for, after having waited for months to +hear Alec's purpose, he to-day decided to act without reference to him. +At the thought of the renewed solicitation of another lover, his own +love and manliness triumphed over everything else. He would tell her +fully and frankly all that had made him hesitate so long, and of his +long admiration for her, and how dearly he now loved her. He would not +urge her; he would, leave the choice to her. This resolution was not +made by any impulsive yielding to a storm of feeling, nor in the calm of +determined meditation; he simply made up his mind in the course of that +afternoon's occupation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Trenholme went from Mrs. Rexford's door that same day to pay some visits +of duty in the village. The afternoon was warm, and exquisitely bright +with the sort of dazzling brightness that sometimes presages rain. On +his return he met a certain good man who was the Presbyterian minister +of the place. The Scotch church had a larger following in Chellaston +than the English. The clergyman and the minister were friends of a sort, +a friendship which was cultivated on chance occasions as much from the +desire to exercise and display large-mindedness as from the drawings of +personal sympathy. The meeting this afternoon led to their walking out +of the village together; and when the Scotchman had strolled as far as +the college gate, Trenholme, out of courtesy and interest in the +conversation, walked a mile further up the road with him. + +Very beautiful was the road on that bright summer day. They heard the +ripple of the river faintly where it was separated from them by the +Harmon garden and the old cemetery. Further on, the sound of the water +came nearer, for there was only the wilderness of half overgrown pasture +and sumac trees between them and it. Then, where the river curved, they +came by its bank, road and river-side meeting in a grove of majestic +pines. The ground here was soft and fragrant with the pine needles of +half a century; the blue water curled with shadowed wave against matted +roots; the swaying firmament was of lofty branches, and the summer wind +touched into harmony a million tiny harps. Minds that were not choked +with their own activities would surely here have received impressions of +beauty; but these two men were engaged in important conversation, and +they only gave impassive heed to a scene to which they were well +accustomed. + +They were talking about improvements and additions which Trenholme hoped +to get made to the college buildings in the course of a few years. The +future of the college was a subject in which he could always become +absorbed, and it was one sufficiently identified with the best interests +of the country to secure the attention of his listener. In this land, +where no church is established, there is so little bitterness existing +between different religious bodies, that the fact that the college was +under Episcopal management made no difference to the Presbyterian's +goodwill towards it. He sent his own boys to school there, admired +Trenholme's enthusiastic devotion to his work, and believed as firmly as +the Principal himself that the school would become a great university. +It was important to Trenholme that this man--that any man of influence, +should believe in him, in his college, and in the great future of both. +The prosperity of his work depended so greatly upon the good opinion of +all, that he had grown into the habit of considering hours well spent +that, like this one, were given to bringing another into sympathy with +himself in the matter of the next projected improvement. It was thus +that he had advanced his work step by step since he came to Chellaston; +if the method sometimes struck his inner self as a little sordid, the +work was still a noble one, and the method necessary to the quick +enlargement he desired. Both men were in full tide of talk upon the +necessity for a new gymnasium, its probable cost, and the best means of +raising the money, when they walked out of the pine shade into an open +stretch of the road. + +Soft, mountainous clouds of snowy whiteness were winging their way +across the brilliant blue of the sky. The brightness of the light had +wiped all warm colour from the landscape. The airy shadows of the clouds +coursed over a scene in which the yellow of ripened fields, the green of +the woods on Chellaston Mountain, and the blue of the distance, were +only brought to the eye in the pale, cool tones of high light. The road +and the river ran together now as far as might be seen, the one almost +pure white in its inch-deep dust, the other tumbling rapidly, a dancing +mirror for the light. + +The talkers went on, unmindful of dust and heat. Then a cloud came +between them and the sun, changing the hue of all things for the moment. +This lured them further. The oat harvest was ready. The reaping machines +were already in the fields far and near, making noise like that of some +new enormous insect of rattling throat. From roadside trees the cicada +vied with them, making the welkin ring. + +There were labourers at various occupations in the fields, but on the +dusty stretch of road there was only one traveller to be seen in front +of the two companions. When they gained upon him they recognised the old +preacher who went by the name of Cameron. The poor old wanderer had been +a nine days' wonder; now his presence elicited no comment. He was +walking cap in hand in the sunshine, just as he had walked in the winter +snow. To Trenholme the sight of him brought little impression beyond a +reminder of his brother's wayward course. It always brought that +reminder; and now, underneath the flow of his talk about college +buildings, was the thought that, if all were done and said that might +be, it was possible that it would be expedient for the future of the New +College that the present principal should resign. This was, of course, +an extreme view of the results of Alec's interference; but Trenholme had +accustomed himself to look at his bugbear in all lights, the most +extreme as well as the most moderate. _That_ for the future; and, for +immediate agitation, there was his resolution to speak to Sophia. As he +walked and talked, his heart was wrestling with multiform care. + +With one of those welcome surprises which Nature can bestow, the big +swinging cloud which had shadowed their bit of earth for a few minutes +and then passed off the sun again, now broke upon them in a heavy +shower. They saw the rain first falling on Chellaston Mountain, which +was only about a quarter of a mile distant, falling in the sunshine like +perpendicular rays of misty light; then it swept down upon them; but so +bright was the sunshine the while that it took them a few minutes to +realise that this dazzling shower could actually be wet. Its drenching +character was made apparent by the sight of field labourers running to a +great spreading maple for shelter; then they, literally having regard to +their cloth, ran also and joined the group. They passed the old man on +the road, but when they were all under the tree he also came towards it. + +There is no power in the art of words, or of painting, or of music, to +fully describe the perfect gratefulness of a shower on a thirsty day. +The earth and all that belongs to her thrill with the refreshing, and +the human heart feels the thrill just in so far as it is one with the +great plan of nature, and has not cut itself off from the whole by +egotism as a dead branch is cut. All under the tree were pleased in +their own way. The labourers cooled their sweating brows by wiping them +with the shirtsleeves the rain had wet; Trenholme and his friend saw +with contentment the dust laid upon their road, listened to the chirp of +birds that had been silent before, and watched the raindrops dance high +upon the sunny surface of the river. + +The old man came quietly to them. The rain falling through sunshine made +a silver glory in the air in which he walked saintlike, his hoary locks +spangled with the shining baptism. He did not heed that his old clothes +were wet. His strong, aged face was set as though looking onward and +upward, with the joyful expression habitual to it. + +Trenholme and his friend were not insensible to the picture. They were +remarking upon it when the old man came into their midst. There was +something more of keenness and brightness in his mien than was common to +him; some influence, either of the healing summer or of inward joy, +seemed to have made the avenues of his senses more accessible. + +"Sirs," he said, "do you desire the coming of the Lord?" + +He asked the question quite simply, and Trenholme, as one humours a +village innocent, replied, "We hope we are giving our lives to advance +His kingdom." + +"But the _King,_" said the old man. "He is coming. Do you cry to Him to +come quickly?" + +"We hope and trust we shall see Him in His own time," said Trenholme, +still benignly. + +"His own time is suddenly, in the night," cried the old man, "when the +Church is sleeping, when her children are planting and building, +selling, buying; and marrying--that is _His time_. We shall see Him. We +shall see His face, when we tell Him that we love Him; we shall hear His +voice when he tells us that He loves us. We shall see Him when we pray; +we shall hear Him give the answer. Sirs, do you desire that He should +come now, and reign over you?" + +The labourers bestirred themselves and came nearer. The old man had +always the power of transmitting his excitements to others, so that, +strangely, they felt it incumbent upon them to answer. One, a +dull-looking man, answered "yes," with conventional piety. Another said +sincerely that he would like to get the oats in first. Then, when the +first effect of the enthusiast's influence was passing off, they began +to rebel at having this subject thrust upon them. A youth said rudely +that, as there were two parsons there, Father Cameron was not called on +to preach. + +The old man fixed his questioning look on Trenholme. "He will come to +reign," he cried, "to exalt the lowly and meek, to satisfy the men who +hunger for righteousness; and the pure in heart shall live with Him. +Sir, do you desire that He shall come now?" + +Trenholme did not give answer as before. + +"Poor fellow," said the Presbyterian, pityingly. + +The shower was passing over, and they moved away. + +The old man lifted his arm, and pointed to the mountain that stood in +all the beauty of its wet verdure. He looked round upon them all, and +there was unusual show of excitement in his manner. + +"I have a message to you," he said. "Before another Lord's, day comes, +_He_ will come." + +The two ministers heard him as they walked away, and the Scotchman +thought to go back and reprove such an audacious word. + +"He is mad; they all know that he is mad," urged Trenholme, dissuading +him. + +They looked back, and saw the old man still preaching to the labourers +under the tree. A mare with its foal, and two half-grown colts, had come +up to an open fence within the tree's shadow, and, with their long +gentle heads hanging over, they too seemed to be listening. + +The Scotchman, exhilarated by the cooling of the atmosphere, genially +invited Trenholme to a longer walk. Chellaston Mountain, with its cool +shades and fine prospect, was very near. A lane turned from the high +road, which led to the mountain's base. A hospitable farmhouse stood +where the mountain path began to ascend, suggesting sure offer of an +evening meal. Trenholme looked at the peaceful lane, the beautiful hill, +and all the sunny loveliness of the land, and refused the invitation. He +had not time, he said. + +So they walked back the mile they had come, and Trenholme little thought +how soon, and with what agitation, he would pass that way again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +The next day, before Trenholme had had time to devise a plan for seeing +Miss Rexford, Mrs. Martha brought him a telegram. She watched him as he +drew his finger through the poor paper of the envelope, watched him as +one might watch another on the eve of some decisive event; yet she could +not have expected much from a telegram--they came too often. + +"Ha!" cried Trenholme, "we are going to have visitors, Mrs. Martha." + +A good deal to Trenholme's surprise, the message was from Alec, and from +a point no further away than Quebec. It stated that he was there with +Bates, who was ill, and he thought the best thing would be to bring him +with him to Chellaston, if his brother had house-room enough. + +The answers we give to such appeals are more often the outcome of +life-long habit than instances of separate volition. No question of what +answer to send occurred to Trenholme's mind as he pencilled his reply, +assuring a welcome to the sick man. + +When the answer was despatched he saw that, as fate had thrust the +notice of this arrival between him and the proposed interview with +Sophia; it would be better, after all, to wait only a day or two more, +until he knew his brother's mind. + +He heard nothing more from Alec that day. The day after was Saturday, +and it rained heavily. + +"What time will the gentlemen arrive?" asked Mrs. Martha, but not as if +she took much interest in the matter. + +"I can't tell," he replied. "They will probably let us know; but it's +best to be ready when guests may come any time, isn't it?" + +He asked her this with a cheering smile, because her manner was strange, +and he wished to rouse her to a sense of her duties. + +"Yes, sir; 'twouldn't seem like as if we was truly expecting and hoping +unless we did our best to be ready." + +The fervour of her answer surprised him. + +For some time past Winifred Rexford had been spending part of each +morning learning housewifery of Mrs. Martha. That day, because of the +rain, Trenholme insisted upon keeping her to dinner with him. He brought +her into his dining-room with playful force, and set her at the head of +his table. It was a great pleasure to him to have the child. He twitted +her with her improvement in the culinary art, demanding all sorts of +impossible dishes in the near future for his brother's entertainment. He +was surprised at the sedateness of her answers, and at a strange look of +excited solicitude that arose in her eyes. It seemed to him that she was +several times on the point of saying something to him, and yet she did +not speak. + +"What is it, Princess Win?" he cried. "What is in your mind, little +one?" + +He came to the conclusion that she was not very well. He got no +information from her on the subject of her health or anything else; but +thinking naturally that the change in the weather might have given her +cold, he took pains to wrap her in his own mackintosh and take her home +under his own large umbrella. + +When there, he went in. He was greatly cheered by the idea that, +although he might not tell his mind that day, he was now and henceforth +courting Sophia openly, whatever befell; but the open courting, since it +had only begun with his resolution of yesterday, and existed only in his +own intention, was naturally not recognised. He was received with the +ordinary everyday friendliness. But a change had occurred in the family +circumstances, nothing less than that they sat now in the long neglected +and still unfurnished room which went by the name of the drawing-room. +The windows had been thrown open, and the covering taken from the family +carriage. There it stood, still wheelless, but occupied now by Sophia +and Mrs. Rexford, the girls and the darning basket, while some of the +children climbed upon the box. Blue and Red, who were highly delighted +with the arrangement, explained it to Trenholme. + +"You see, we had a carriage we couldn't use, and a room we couldn't use +for want of furniture; so this rainy day, when we all were so tired of +the other room, mamma suddenly thought that we'd make the carriage do +for furniture. It's the greatest fun possible." They gave little jumps +on the soft cushions, and were actually darning with some energy on +account of the change. + +Trenholme shook hands with the carriage folk in the gay manner necessary +to the occasion, but his heart ached for the little mother who had thus +so bravely buried her last vestige of pride in the carriage by giving it +to her children as a plaything. + +"It's more comfortable than armchairs, and keeps the feet from the bare +floor," she said to him, in defiance of any criticisms he might have in +mind. But all his thought was with and for her, and in this he was +pleased to see that he had divined Sophia's mind, for, after adding her +warm but brief praise to the new arrangement, she changed the subject. + +Winifred went upstairs quietly. Trenholme suggested that he hardly +thought her looking quite well. + +"She's an odd child," said Sophia. "I did not tell you, mamma, what I +found her doing the other day. She was trying on the white frock she had +this spring when she was confirmed. It's unlike her to do a thing like +that for no reason; and when I teased her she began to cry, and then +began speaking to me about religion. She has been puzzled by the views +your housekeeper holds, Mr. Trenholme, and excited by old Cameron's +teaching about the end of the world." + +"I don't think it's the end of the world he's prophesying exactly," said +Trenholme, musingly. "The Adventists believe that the earth will not be +ruined, but glorified by the Second Advent." + +"Children should not hear of such abstruse, far-off things," observed +Mrs. Rexford; "it does harm; but with no nursery, no schoolroom, what +can one do?" + +Trenholme told them of Alec's telegram, and something of what he knew +concerning Bates. His own knowledge was scanty, but he had not even said +all he might have said when Mrs. Rexford politely regretted that her +husband and son, taking advantage of the rain, had both gone to the next +town to see some machinery they were buying, and would be away over +Sunday, otherwise they would not have missed the opportunity offered by +Sunday's leisure to call upon the newcomers. + +"Oh, he's quite a common working-man, I fancy," added Trenholme, +hastily, surprised at the gloss his words had thrown on Bates's +position, and dimly realising that his way of putting things might +perhaps at some other times be as misleading as it had just that moment +been. + +Then he went away rather abruptly, feeling burdened with the further +apologies she made with respect to Alec. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Trenholme went home and sat down to write an article for a magazine. Its +subject was the discipline of life. He did not get on with it very well. +He rose more than once to look at the weather-glass and the weather. +Rain came in torrents, ceasing at intervals. The clouds swept over, with +lighter and darker spaces among them. The wind began to rise. Thunder +was in the air; as it became dusk lightning was seen in the far +distance. + +A little after dark he heard a quick, light step upon the garden path. +The voice of the young dentist was audible at the door, and Mrs. Martha +ushered him into the study. Trenholme had felt more or less prejudice +against this fellow since he had become aware that he was in some way +connected with the incident that had discomforted his brother in his +lonely station. He looked at him with a glance of severe inquiry. + +"I'm _real_ sorry to disturb you," said the dentist; "but, upon my word, +I'm uneasy in my mind. I've lost old Mr. Cameron." + +It occurred to Trenholme now for the first time since he had heard of +Bates's coming that he, Bates, was the very man who could speak with +authority as to whether the old man in question had a right to the name +of Cameron. He wondered if the American could possibly have private +knowledge of Bates's movements, and knew that his coming could dispel +the mystery. If so, and if he had interest in keeping up the weird +story, he had done well now to lose his charge for the time being. Wild +and improbable as such a plot seemed, it was not more extraordinary than +the fact that this intensely practical young man had sought the other +and protected him so long. + +"Your friend is in the habit of wandering, is he not?" asked Trenholme, +guardedly. + +"Can't say that he is since he came here, Principal. He's just like a +child, coming in when it's dark. I've never"--he spoke with zeal--"I've +never known that good old gentleman out as late as this, and it's +stormy." + +"Did you come here under the idea that I knew anything about him?" + +"Well, no, I can't say that I did; but I reckoned you knew your Bible +pretty well, and that you were the nearest neighbour of mine that did." +There was an attempt at nervous pleasantry in this, perhaps to hide real +earnestness. + +Trenholme frowned. "I don't understand you." + +"Well, 'twould be strange if you did, come to think of it; but I'm +mighty uneasy about that old man, and I've come to ask you what the +Bible really does say about the Lord's coming. Whether he's crazed or +not, that old man believes that He's coming to-night. He's been telling +the folks all day that they ought to go out with joy to meet Him. I +never thought of him budging from the house till some _manifestation_ +occurred, which I thought _wouldn't_ occur, but when I found just now he +was gone, it struck me all of a heap that he was gone out with that +idea. I do assure you"--he spoke earnestly--"that's what he's after at +this very time. He's gone out to meet Him, and I came to ask +you--well--what sort of a place he'd be likely to choose. He knows his +Bible right off, that old gentleman does; he's got his notions out of +it, whether they're right or wrong." + +Trenholme stared at him. It was some time before the young man's ideas +made their way into his mind. Then he wondered if his apparent +earnestness could possibly be real. + +"Your application is an extraordinary one," he said stiffly. + +Harkness was too sensitive not to perceive the direction the doubt had +taken. "It may be extraordinary, but I do assure you it's genuine." + +As he grew to believe in the youth's sincerity, Trenholme thought he +perceived that, although he had asked what would be the probable +direction of the enthusiast's wanderings, the dentist was really +stricken with doubt as to whether the prediction might not possibly be +correct, and longed chiefly to know Trenholme's mind on that important +matter. + +"This crazy fellow is astray in his interpretation of Scripture," he +said, "if he believes that it teaches that the Second Advent is now +imminent; and his fixing upon to-night is, of course, quite arbitrary. +God works by growth and development, not by violent miracle. If you +study the account of our Lord's first coming, you see that, not only was +there long preparation, but that the great miracle was hidden in the +beautiful disguise of natural processes. We must interpret all special +parts of the inspired Word by that which we learn of its Author in the +whole of His revelation, otherwise we should not deal as reverently with +it as we deal with the stray words of any human author." + +The young man, if he did not understand, was certainly comforted by this +official opinion. + +"I'm glad to hear you look upon it in that light," he said approvingly, +"for, to tell the truth, if I thought the millennium was coming to-night +I'd be real scared, although I've lived better than most young men of my +age do; but, some way, the millennium isn't the sort of thing I seem to +hanker after very much. I suppose, though, people as good as you would +like nothing so well as to see it begin at once." + +Trenholme looked down at the sheet of paper before him, and absently +made marks upon it with his pen. He was thinking of the spiritual +condition of a soul which had no ardent desire for the advent of its +Lord, but it was not of the young man he was thinking. + +"Of course," the latter continued, "I didn't suppose myself there was +anything in it--at least"--candidly--"I didn't in the day-time; but when +I found he'd gone out in the dark, and thought of all the times I'd +heard him praying--" he broke off. "He's real good. I'm a better fellow +for having lived with him so long, but I wish to goodness I'd never +caught him." + +The word "caught," so expressive of the American's relation to the +wanderer, roused Trenholme's attention, and he asked now with interest, +"May I inquire why you did take possession of him and bring him here?" + +"Well, as to that, I don't know that I'd like to tell," said the young +man, frankly. "Since I've lived with him I've seen my reasons to be none +of the best." He fidgeted now, rising, cap in hand. "I ought to go and +look after him," he said, "if I only knew where to go." + +It struck Trenholme that Harkness had an idea where to go, and that his +questioning was really a prelude to its announcement. "Where do _you_ +think he has gone?" + +"Well, if you ask me what I think, Principal--but, mind, I haven't a +word of proof of it--I think he's gone up the mountain, and that he's +not gone there alone." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I think drunken Job's wife, and old McNider, and some more +of the Second Advent folks, will go with him, expecting to be caught +up." + +"Impossible!" cried Trenholme, vehemently. Then more soberly, "Even if +they had such wild intentions, the weather would, of course, put a stop +to it." + +Harkness did not look convinced. "Job's threatened to beat his wife to +death if she goes, and it's my belief she'll go." + +He twirled his hat as he spoke. He was, in fact, trying to get the +responsibility of his suspicions lightened by sharing them with +Trenholme at this eleventh hour, but his hearer was not so quickly +roused. + +"If you believe that," he said coolly, "you ought to give information to +the police." + +"The police know all that I know. They've heard the people preaching and +singing in the streets. I can't make them believe the story if they +don't. They'd not go with me one step on a night like this--not one +step." + +There was a short silence. Trenholme was weighing probabilities. On the +whole, he thought the police were in the right of it, and that this +young man was probably carried away by a certain liking for novel +excitement. + +"In any case," he said aloud, "I don't see what I can do in the matter." + +Harkness turned to leave as abruptly as he had come in. "If you don't, I +see what I can do. I'm going along there to see if I can find them." + +"As you are in a way responsible for the old man, perhaps that is your +duty," replied Trenholme, secretly thinking that on such roads and under +such skies the volatile youth would not go very far. + +A blast of wind entered the house door as Harkness went out of it, +scattering Trenholme's papers, causing his study lamp to flare up +suddenly, and almost extinguishing it. + +Trenholme went on with his writing, and now a curious thing happened. +About nine o'clock he again heard steps upon his path, and the bell +rang. Thinking it a visitor, he stepped to the door himself, as he often +did. There was no one there but a small boy, bearing a large box on his +shoulders. He asked for Mrs. Martha. "Have you got a parcel for her?" +said Trenholme, thinking his housekeeper had probably retired, as she +did not come to the door. The boy signified that he had, and made his +way into the light of the study door. Trenholme saw now, by the label on +the box, that he had come from the largest millinery establishment the +place could boast. It rather surprised him that the lean old woman +should have been purchasing new apparel there, but there was nothing to +be done but tell the boy to put out the contents of the box and be gone. +Accordingly, upon a large chair the boy laid a white gown of delicate +material, and went away. + +Trenholme stood contemplating the gown; he even touched it lightly with +his hand, so surprised he was. He soon concluded there was some +mistake, and afterwards, when he heard the housekeeper enter the kitchen +from the garden door, he was interested enough to get up with alacrity +and call to her. "A gown has come for you, Mrs. Martha," he cried. Now, +he thought, the mistake would be proved; but she only came in soberly, +and took up the gown as if it was an expected thing. He bade her +good-night. "Good-night," said she, looking at him. There was a red spot +on each of her thin, withered cheeks. He heard her footstep mounting her +bedroom staircase, but no clue to the mystery of her purchase offered +itself to mitigate his surprise. Had she not been his housekeeper now +for six years, and during that time not so much as a trace of any vagary +of mind had he observed in her. + +About an hour afterwards, when he had gone into the next room to look +for some papers, he heard quiet sounds going on in the kitchen, which +was just at the rear end of the small hall on which the room doors +opened. A moment more and he surmised that his housekeeper must have +again descended for something. "Are you there, Mrs. Martha?" he called. +There was no answer in words, but hearing the kitchen door open, he +looked into the lobby, and there a strange vision flashed on his sight. +His end of the lobby was dark, but in the kitchen doorway, by the light +of the candles she held, he saw his elderly housekeeper arrayed in the +pure white gown. + +He paused in sheer astonishment, looking at her, and he observed she +trembled--trembled all over with the meek courage it cost her to thus +exhibit herself; for she appeared to have opened the door for no other +purpose than to let him see her. She said nothing, and he--most men are +cowards with regard to women--he had a vague sense that it was his duty +to ask her why she wore that dress, but he did not do it. He had no +reason to suppose her mad; she had a perfect right to array herself in +full dress at night if she chose; she was a great deal older than he, a +woman worthy of all respect. This was the tenor of his thought--of his +self-excusing, it might be. He bade her good-night again, somewhat +timidly. Surely, he thought, it was her place to make remark, if remark +were needful; but she stood there silent till he had gone back into the +room. Then she shut the kitchen door. + +In a little while, however, as stillness reigned in the house, some +presentiment of evil made him think it would be as well to go and see if +Mrs. Martha had finished trying on her finery and gone to bed as usual. +He found the kitchen dark and empty. He went to the foot of her stairs. +There was no chink of light showing from her room. The stillness of the +place entered into his mind as the thin edge of a wedge of alarm. "Mrs. +Martha!" he called in sonorous voice. "Mrs. Martha!" But no one +answered. He opened the back-door, and swept the dark garden with the +light of his lamp, but she was not there. Lamp in hand, he went +upstairs, and passed rapidly through the different rooms. As he entered +the less frequented ones, he began to fear almost as much to see the +gaily-attired figure as he would have done to see a ghost. He did not +know why this feeling crept over him, but, whether he feared or hoped to +see her, he did not. The house was empty, save for himself. The night +blast beat upon it. The darkness outside was rife with storm, but into +it the old woman must have gone in her festal array. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Trenholme went out on the verandah. At first, in the night, he saw +nothing but the shadowy forms of the college building and of the trees +upon the road. It was not raining at the moment, but the wind made it +hard to catch any sound continuously. He thought he heard talking of +more than one voice, he could not tell where. Then he heard wheels begin +to move on the road. Presently he saw something passing the trees--some +vehicle, and it was going at a good pace out from the village. Shod +though he was only in slippers, he shut his door behind him, and ran +across the college grounds to the road; but the vehicle was already out +of sight, and on the soft mud he could hear no further sound. + +Trenholme stood hardly knowing what to think. He wore no hat; the damp, +cool air was grateful to his head, but he gave no thought to it. Just +then, from the other way of the road, he heard a light, elastic step and +saw a figure that, even in the darkness, he could not fail to know. + +"Sophia!" There was fear in his voice. + +"Have you seen Winifred?" she cried. + +"Winifred? No," he called, back. + +"What are you doing here?" she asked, breathless. She never noticed that +he had called her by name. The abruptness of her own question was +evidently atoned for by some necessity the nature of which he had not +yet entirely grasped. Yet a knowledge, gleaned too late from all the +occurrences of the evening, leaped up within him to anticipate her +tidings. + +"Winifred has gone out since dark. Whether she is alone or not I don't +know, but she has gone to the mountain. She means to climb it to-night +because they have told her that--that----" + +His lady-love stopped. Voice and language seemed alike to fail her when +she essayed to tell him, and he, awed at the thought of hearing such +sacred words from her lips, awed to think that the sword of this +fanaticism had come so near as to strike the pure young girl who was so +dear to them both, took her pause as if it had told him everything. + +"How do you know?" His words were brief and stern. + +She was walking on, he thought merely from excitement. As he kept up +with her he perceived, more by quickness of sympathy than by any sign, +that, in her effort to speak, she had begun to weep. She walked erect, +giving no heed to her own tears nor lifting a hand to wipe them, only at +first her throat refused to articulate a reply, and when she spoke it +was quickly, a word or two at a time, as though she feared her voice +would be traitor to her. + +"She left a paper for me." And then she added, "She wrote on it--what +she was afraid to say--dear child!" + +He was silent a moment, listening with bowed head lest she should tell +more. He thought he saw her now dash the tears from her face. She was +walking fast, and he felt that she must not go further, also that he had +no time to lose; so he told her hastily that he thought his housekeeper +had gone also to the mountain, and why he thought so. He said that he +hoped and believed Winifred would be with her, and that it was not many +minutes since they had driven away. He would go at once, hoping to +overtake them on the difficult ascent, and Miss Rexford, he said, must +go home and send her father and brother to aid him in his search. + +She never stopped in her steady walk. "You know they are not at home." + +He was shocked to remember it. "Never mind!" he cried, "I will go with +your authority. I will bring her back." + +Still she did not waver in her walk. She spoke thickly out of her tears. +"You may go to find this woman who has worked for you so long; I will go +for Winifred." + +"You must not come," he said almost harshly. "It is far too late; it is +far too wet." + +He stopped to make her stop, but she only went on, getting much in +front. Then he ran up to her, laid his hand on her arm, and implored her +not to go. + +There was nothing in his words or action that was precisely loverlike, +nor did such likeness occur to her; but in the restraint he put upon the +lover in him, his manner appeared to assume the confidence and ease of a +perfect friendship, and she, scarce noting much how he spoke or acted, +still felt that this advance of his gave her a new liberty to tell him +that she scorned his friendship, for she had something of that sort +seething in her mind concerning him. As to his request just then, she +merely said she would go on. + +He was very urgent. "Then I will not go," he said, stopping again. "You +can't go without me, and if my going involves your going, it is better +not to go." He did not mean what he said, but he hoped to move her. + +"You can go or stay as you think right," she said. "I am going to get +Winifred, poor lamb. I am not in the least afraid to go alone. I have +got a pistol in my belt." + +So he went with her. They both walked fast. The road was wide and muddy, +and the night was very dark. + +Trenholme noticed now for the first time that he walked in slippers; he +would as soon have thought of turning back on this account as he would +have thought of stopping if thorns and briars had beset his path. He +felt almost as if it were a dream that he was walking thus, serving the +woman he loved; but even as he brooded on the dreamlike strangeness of +it, his mind was doing its practical work. If Winifred and Mrs. Martha +were in the vehicle he had seen, what time they would gain while driving +on the road they would be apt to lose by their feebleness on the +mountain path, which he and Sophia could ascend so much more lightly. +Wherever their goal, and whatever their purpose, he was sanguine that he +would find and stop them before they joined the main party. He +communicated the grounds of this hope to his companion. His heart was +sore for his lady's tears. He had never before seen her weep. They had +passed the cemetery, and went forward now into the lonelier part of the +road. Then Trenholme thought of the warning Harkness had given him about +the drunkard's violence. The recollection made him hasten on, forgetting +that his speed was almost too great for a woman. + +In the stir of events we seldom realise to the full the facts with which +we are dealing, certainly never perceive at first their full import. +Trenholme, however, after some minutes of tramping and thinking, felt +that he had reason for righteous indignation, and became wroth. He gave +vent to strictures upon superficiality of character, modern love of +excitement, and that silly egotism that, causing people to throw off +rightful authority, leaves them an easy prey to false teachers. He was +not angry with Winifred--he excepted her; but against those who were +leading her astray his words were harsh, and they would have flowed more +freely had he not found language inadequate to express his growing +perception of their folly. + +When he had talked thus for some time Sophia answered, and he knew +instantly, from the tone of her voice, that her tears had dried +themselves. + +"Are you and I able to understand the condition of heart that is not +only resigned, but eager to meet Him Whom they hope to meet--able so +fully to understand that we can judge its worth?" + +He knew her face so well that he seemed to see the hint of sarcasm come +in the arching of her handsome eyebrows as she spoke. + +"I fear they realise their hope but little," he replied. "The excitement +of some hysterical outbreak is what they seek." + +"It seems to me that is an ungenerous and superficial view, especially +as we have never seen the same people courting hysterics before," she +said; but she did not speak as if she cared much which view he took. + +Her lack of interest in his opinion, quite as much as her frank reproof, +offended him. They walked in silence for some minutes. Thunder, which +had been rumbling in the distance, came nearer and every now and then a +flash from an approaching storm lit up the dark land with a pale, vivid +light. + +"Even setting their motives at the highest estimate," he said, "I do not +know that you, or even I, Miss Rexford, need hold ourselves incapable of +entering into them." This was not exactly what he would have felt if +left to himself, but it was what her upbraiding wrung from him. He +continued: "Even if we had the sure expectation for to-night that they +profess to have, I am of opinion that we should express our devotion +better by patient adherence to our ordinary duties, by doing all we +could for the world up to the moment of His appearing." + +"Our ordinary duties!" she cried; "_they_ are always with us! I dare say +you and I might think that the fervour of this night's work had better +have been converted into good works and given to the poor; but our +opinion is not specially likely to be the true one. What do we know? +Walking here in the dark, we can't even see our way along this road." + +It was an apt illustration, for their eyes were becoming so dazzled by +the occasional lightning that they could make no use of its brief flash, +or of the faint light of night that was mingled in the darkness of the +intervals. + +Although he smarted under the slight she put upon him, he was weary of +opposing her, because he loved her. "I am sorry that nothing I say meets +with your approval," he said sadly. + +It was lack of tact that made him use the personal tone when he and she +had so far to travel perforce together, and she, being excited and much +perturbed in spirit, had not the grace to answer wisely. + +"Happily it matters little whether what you say pleases me or not." + +She meant in earnestness to depreciate herself, and to exalt that higher +tribunal before which all opinions are arraigned; still, there was in +the answer a tinge of spite, telling him by the way that it did not +distress her to differ with him. It was not wonderful that Trenholme, +self-conscious with the love she did not guess at, took the words only +as a challenge to his admiration. + +"Indeed you wrong me. It was long ago I proved the value I put upon your +advice by acting upon it in the most important decision of my life." + +She had so long tacitly understood what her influence over him at that +time had been that she could not now be much affected by the avowal. + +"Indeed, if you recklessly mistook the advice of a vain child for +wisdom, it is to be hoped that Providence has shaped your ends for you." + +He did not understand her mood; he only thought of protesting his long +loyalty to her. "It is true," said he, "that Providence has done more +for me than I have done for myself; but I have always been glad to +attribute my coming here to your beneficent influence." + +Her heart was like flint to him at that moment, and in his clumsiness he +struck sparks from it. + +"Yet when I remember how you tried to explain to me then that the poor +parish in which you were working might be offering the nobler life-work +for you, I think that you were wiser than I. In their serious moments +people can judge best for themselves, Mr. Trenholme." + +He had noticed that, in the rare times she addressed him by name, she +never used his big-sounding title of Principal. This little habit of +hers, differently read before, seemed now like a clue to guide him to +the meaning of her last remark, partly wrapped as it was in her +politeness. He was no dullard; once on the track of her thought, he soon +came up with her. In surprise he faced her insinuation squarely. + +"You mean to tell me that you think I have not done well." + +Half startled, she could think of no answer but the silence that gives +consent. + +"Is it for myself or others I have done ill?" he asked. + +"The world here speaks loudly of your exertions on its behalf; I have +never doubted the truth of its report." + +"Then you consider that I myself am not what you would wish?" There was +neither anger nor graciousness in his tone. His mind, arrested, merely +sought to know further, and feeling had not yet arisen. + +"You alarm me," she said coldly. "I had no thought of bringing these +questions upon myself." + +But it was of moment to him to know her mind. + +"I spoke inadvisedly," she added. + +"Yet you spoke as you thought?" he asked. + +Fast as they were walking, she could not but notice that they were in +the pine grove now, close by the river. Here the gale was loud, +reminding her afresh of the loneliness of the place, and, as she felt +the force of his question pressing upon her, all her energies rushed in +anger to her self-defence. + +"Yes, I said what I thought; but I ask your pardon for any truthfulness. +Question me no further." + +His stronger will was also roused. In bitterness of spirit he told her +that he had a right to know her full meaning. He plied her with +questions. When in steady tramp they came out on the open stretch of +road between the pines and the mountain, over the noise of the swollen +river he heard what she thought of him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +That afternoon Alec Trenholme had essayed to bring his friend John Bates +to Chellaston. Bates was in a very feeble state, bowed with asthma, and +exhausted by a cough that seemed to be sapping his life. Afraid to keep +him longer in the lodging they had taken in Quebec, and in the stifling +summer heat that was upon, the narrow streets of that city, but +uncertain as to what length of journey he would be able to go, Alec +started without sending further notice. + +As the hours of travel wore on, Bates's dogged pluck and perseverance +had to give way to his bodily weakness, but they had reached a station +quite near Chellaston before he allowed himself to be taken out of the +train and housed for the night in a railway inn. In his nervous state +the ordeal of meeting fresh friends seemed as great, indeed, as that +involved in the remaining journey. So it came to pass that at dusk on +that same evening, Alec Trenholme, having put his friend to bed, joined +the loungers on the railway platform in front of the inn, and watched +lightning vibrate above the horizon, and saw its sheet-like flames light +up the contour of Chellaston Mountain. He did not know what hill it was; +he did not know precisely where he was in relation to his brother's +home; but he soon overheard the name of the hill from two men who were +talking about it and about the weather. + +"How far to Chellaston?" asked Alec. + +They told him that it was only nine miles by road, but the railway went +round by a junction. + +Alec began to consider the idea of walking over, now that he had +disposed of Bates for the night. + +"Is the storm coming this way?" he said. + +The man who had first answered him pointed to another. "This gentleman," +he said, "has just come from Chellaston." + +As the remark did not seem to be an answer to his question about the +weather, Alec waited to hear its application. It followed. + +The first man drew a little nearer. "He's been telling us that the +Adventists--that means folks that are always expecting the end of the +world--all about Chellaston believe the end's coming to-night." + +Alec made an exclamation. It was a little like hearing that some one +sees a ghost at your elbow. The idea of proximity is unpleasant, even to +the incredulous. "Why to-night?" he asked. + +"Well, I'll say this much of the notion's come true," said the native of +Chellaston hastily--"it's awful queer weather--not that I believe it +myself," he added. + +"Has the weather been so remarkable as to make them think that?" asked +Alec. + +"'Tain't the weather _made_ them think it. He only said the weather +weren't unlike as if it were coming true." As the first man said this, +he laughed, to explain that he had nothing to do with the tale or its +credence, but the very laugh betrayed more of a tendency to dislike the +idea than perfect indifference to it would have warranted. + +In defiance of this laugh the Chellaston man made further explanation. +He said the religious folks said it was clearly written in the Book of +Daniel (he pronounced it Dannel); if you made the days it talks of +years, and the weeks seven years, the end must come about this time. At +first folks had calculated it would be 1843, but since then they had +found they were thirty years out somehow. + +"That would make it this year," agreed the first man. Some others that +had gathered round laughed in chorus. They vented some bad language to; +but the Chellaston man, excited with his tale, went on. + +"All the Advent folks believe that. They believe all the good folks will +be caught up in the air; and after that they're to come back, and the +world will be just like the Garden of Eden for a thousand years." + +He was casting pearls before swine, for some of his hearers chanted +gibes. "Is that so?" they sang, to the notes of a response in Church +music. + +Night had closed in black about them. All on the platform had come +together in close group. The wind-blown light of the station lamp was on +their faces. In the distance the smouldering storm rumbled and flashed. + +"All religious folks believe that," continued the speaker, a little +scornfully, "and the Advents think it'll be now; but old Cameron we've +had in Chellaston for a year, he tells them it'll be to-night." + +Alec Trenholme had by this time received his brother's letters. "A +year!" interrupted he almost fiercely. "Didn't he come in January?" + +The narrator drew in the horns of his exaggeration. "D'ye know all about +him, for there's no use telling if you do?" + +"I only thought you might be talking about an old man heard went there +then." + +"He a'most died, or did really, somewhere below Quebec; and then he got +up and preached and prayed, and his folks wouldn't keep him, so he +wandered everywhere, and a kind young man we have at our place took him +in and keeps him. When he was in the other world he heard the Judgment +would happen to-night. Would that be the same man you know?" + +"It will be the same man." + +"Did you know his people?" asked the other curiously. + +But Alec had no thought of being questioned. He brought the speaker back +to his place as historian, and he, nothing loth, told of the intended +meeting on the mountain, and of the white ascension robes, in his +ignorant, blatant fashion, laying bare the whole pathetic absurdity of +it. + +Two ribald listeners, who had evidently been in some choir, paced arm in +arm, singing the responses to the Litany in melodramatic fashion, except +when their voices were choked with loud laughter at their own wit. + +Pushed by the disagreeableness of these surroundings, and by keen +interest in the old man who had once visited him, Alec decided on the +walk. The mountain was nearer than the village; he hoped to reach it in +time. He was told to keep on the same road till he came to the river, to +follow its bank for about a mile, and when he saw the buildings of a +farm just under the hill, to turn up a lane which would lead him by the +house to the principal ascent. He walked out into the night. + +At first he was full of thoughts, but after walking a while, fatigue and +monotony made him dull. His intelligence seemed to dwell now in his +muscles rather than in his brain. His feet told him on what sort of a +road he was walking; by his fatigue he estimated, without conscious +thought, how far he had walked. + +When he had gone for nearly two hours the storm had come so much nearer +that the lightning constantly blinded his eyes. He heard now the rushing +of the river, and, as he turned into the road by its side, he saw the +black hill looming large. Nothing but the momentum of a will already +made up kept his intention turned to the climb, so unpropitious was the +time, so utterly lonely the place. As it was, with quiescent mind and +vigorous step, he held on down the smooth road that lay beside the +swollen river. + +Some way farther, when the water had either grown quieter or his ear +accustomed to the sound, human voices I became audible, approaching on +the road. Perhaps they might have been two or three hundred yards away +when he first heard them, and from that moment his mind, roused from its +long monotony, became wholly intent upon those who were drawing near. + +It was a woman's voice he heard, and before he could see her in the +least, or even hear her footsteps in the soft mud, the sense of her +words came to him. She was, evidently speaking under the influence of +excitement, not loudly, but with that peculiar quality of tone which +sometimes makes a female voice carry further than is intended. She was +addressing some companion; she was also walking fast. + +"There _was_ a time when I thought you were ambitious, and would +therefore do great things." + +There was an exquisite edge of disdain in her tone that seemed to make +every word an insult that would have had power, Alec thought, to wither +any human vanity on which it might fall. + +Some reply, she received--he could not hear it--and she went on with +such intensity in her voice that her words bore along the whole current +of Alec's thought with them, though they came to him falling out of +darkness, without personality behind them. + +"We may _call_ it ambition when we try to climb trees, but it is not +really so for us if we once had mountain-tops for our goal." + +Again came a short reply, a man's voice so much lower in key that again +he could not hear; and then: + +"Yes, I have wasted years in tree climbing, more shame to me; but even +when I was most willing to forget the highest, I don't think a little +paltry prosperity in the commonplace atmosphere of a colony would have +tempted me to sell my birthright." + +The man she was rating answered, and the clear voice came proudly again: + +"You have at least got the pottage that pleases you--you are a success +in this Canadian world." + +Just then the soft, wet sound of feet tramping in mud came to him, and +apparently the sound of his own feet was heard also, for the talking +stopped until he had passed them. He discerned their figures, but so +dimly he could hardly have told they were man and woman had he not known +it before by their voices. They were walking very fast, and so was he. +In a moment or two they were out of sight, and he had ceased to hear +their footsteps. Then he heard them speak again, but the wind blew their +words from him. + +The tones, the accent, of the woman who had been speaking, told that she +was what, in good old English, used to be called a lady. Alec Trenholme, +who had never had much to do with well-bred women, was inclined to see +around each a halo of charm; and now, after his long, rough exile, this +disposition was increased in him tenfold. Here, in night and storm, to +be roused from the half lethargy of mechanical exercise by the +modulations of such a voice, and forced by the strength of its feeling +to be, as it were, a confidant--this excited him not a little. For a few +moments he thought of nothing but the lady and what he had heard, +conjecturing all things; but he did not associate her with the poor +people he had been told were to meet that night upon the mountain. + +Roused by the incident, and alert, another thought came quickly, +however. He was getting past the large black hill, but the lane turning +to it he had not found. Until he now tried with all his might to see, he +did not fully know how difficult seeing was. + +The storm was not near enough to suggest danger, for there was still +more than a minute between each flash and its peal. As light rain +drifted in his face, he braced himself to see by the next flash and +remember what he saw; but when it came he only knew that it reflected +light into the pools on the road in front of him, and revealed a black +panorama of fence and tree, field and hill, that the next moment, was +all so jumbled in his mind that he did not know where to avoid the very +puddles he had seen so clearly, and splashed on through them, with no +better knowledge of his way, and eyes too dazzled to see what otherwise +they would have seen. In this plight he did not hesitate, but turned and +ran after the two he had met, to ask his way, thinking, as he did so, +that he must have already passed the lane. + +With some effort he caught them up. They must have heard him coming, for +their voices were silent as he approached. He asked for the lane to +Cooper's Farm, which he had been told was the name of the house at the +foot of the mountain path. They both hesitated in their walk. The man, +who ought to have answered, seemed, for some reason, suddenly dumb. +After waiting impatiently, the lady took upon herself to reply. She said +they had not yet reached the turning to the farm. She remarked that they +were going to the same place. + +Then they went on again, and he, too, walked quickly, supposing that he +could soon pass them and get in front. It is not the matter of a moment, +however, to pass people who are walking at a rate of speed almost equal +to one's own. He had the awkwardness of feeling, that, whether he would +or no, he was obliged to intrude upon them. He noticed they were not +walking near together; but when one is tramping and picking steps as +best one can in mud that is hidden in darkness, it is, perhaps, more +natural that two people on a wide road should give one another a wide +berth. At any rate, for a minute all three were making their way through +puddles and over rough places in silence. Then, when Alec thought he had +got a few paces in advance, he heard the lady speak again, and of +himself. + +"Did you think you knew that man?" + +There was no answer. Alec felt angry with her companion that he should +dare to sulk so obviously. After a minute or two more of fast walking, +she said again: + +"I can't think where he has gone to. Do you see him anywhere?" + +To this again there was no answer. Alec naturally went the quicker that +he might get out of hearing. As he did so he wondered much that his +fellow-travellers went so fast, or rather that the lady did, for she, +although some way behind, seemed to keep very near to him. + +On they went in silence for ten minutes more, when the lady again took +up her reproachful theme. Her voice was quieter now, but amid the +harmonious sounds of wind and river he still heard it distinctly. The +clear enunciation of her words seemed to pierce through the baffling +noises of the night as a ray of light pierces through darkness, albeit +that there was excitement in her tones, and her speech was, interspersed +with breathless pauses. + +"I have been rude; but you insisted upon my rudeness, now you are +offended by it. So be it--let me say something else! I don't much +believe now in all the sentiment that used to seem so noble to me about +forgetting oneself. No thoughtful person _can_ forget himself, and no +candid person says he has done it. What we need is to think _more_ of +ourselves--to think so much of ourselves that all aims but the highest +are beneath us--are impossible to our own dignity. What we chiefly need +is ambition." + +She stopped to take breath. It seemed to Alec she came near enough to +see him as she continued. He could think of nothing, however, but what +she was saying. He felt instinctively that it was because of haste and +some cause of excitement, not in spite of them, that this lady could +speak as she now did. + +"Christianity appeals to self-regard as the motive of our best action," +she went on, giving out her words in short sentences, "so there must be +a self-regard which is good--too good to degrade itself to worldly +ends; too good even to be a part of that amalgam--the gold of +unselfishness and the alloy of selfishness--which makes the _ordinary_ +motive of the _ordinary_ good man." + +Her voice seemed to vibrate with scorn on the emphasized words. + +"If we desired to live nearer heaven--" she said, and then she stopped. + +Alec turned perforce to tell her, what she must now perceive, that he +was still close to them; but this impulse was checked by a sudden +thought. Was she not addressing himself? Was there another man now with +her? + +He stopped, looked backward, listened. He was quite alone with the lady, +who went past him now, only looking, as she walked, to see why he was +tarrying. In his fierce young loyalty to her he took for granted, +without question or proof, that her escort had deserted her in revenge +for her disdain. He would willingly have gone back to fetch him up, but +the impossibility of finding a man who did not wish to be found, the +impossibility, as it seemed to him, of letting her go further alone, the +boorishness of calling after her--all this constrained him to follow. He +ran to make his communication gently, and, as he ran, courage to make it +failed him. He thought of her as delicately accustomed to incessant +protection. At the thought of letting her know that she was telling her +thoughts to a stranger, that she was alone at such hour and place with +him, his throat swelled. He hated to speak words that would be so +hateful to her; and when he came by her side breathless, and she spoke +to him again, he walked on, waiting till she should stop, trying to +formulate what he had to say, listening and watching intently for some +sign of the recreant. Again speaking as though she must unburden her +mind, she turned into the lane. Over its fences he peered down the dark +main road, but neither in flash nor interval could the other man be +seen. He had not the slightest notion what the lady was saying now; +lofty philosophy or practical sarcasm it might be, it was all lost in +his exaggerated idea of what her fear and dismay would be when he spoke. + +Before he had a chance to speak, however, he saw, in dark outline, the +building of the farm to which he supposed her to be going. It would be a +thousand times better to conduct her in silence to the door, which was +now so near. To tell her before could serve no end, for even if she +should wish to return to seek her late companion she could there obtain +an escort. So, with feeling of guiltiness in the part he was acting, and +in the surly silence he assumed, Alec let her lead up the lane she must +know better than he. Her previous speeches, which he had followed so +closely, were only remembered now to give food for conjecture as to who +she might be and what relation she held to her late companion. The +interest in his own journey and its extraordinary object were lost for +the time in the excitement of his knight-errantry. + +He was astonished to see that the house, as they neared it, showed no +sign of life and light. The lady, whether inmate or guest, must surely +be expected; but the very roofs of the house and huge barns seemed to +droop in slumber, so black was the whole place and closely shut. Alec +was looking out for the house gate in order to step forward and open it, +when, to his utter surprise, he saw that the lady with haste passed it, +and went on toward the hill. + +He stopped with hand on the gate and called her. + +"What is the matter?" she asked, checking her walk. "Are you ill? What +is it?" + +He supposed that his strange voice would tell her all, but, although she +was evidently puzzled, to his further astonishment, she did not realise +that he was a stranger. + +"Why do you speak like that?" she asked. And she talked on rapidly about +some waggon she expected to find at the foot of the path. She went on, +in fact, as if unable to endure the loss of time; and he, thinking of +the waggon and waggoner as a further point of safety for her, ran after. +In a minute they both came out of the lane on a small common. Here were +two horses tied under a tree and an open waggon with its shafts laid +down. + +"Call the man," she said. + +To Alec's call a man came sleepily from a small barn that was near. He +said he had brought about a dozen women in the waggon, and they had gone +up the hill. Impatiently she demanded of him how long it was since they +had started to walk, and heard it was about a quarter of an hour. She +went on once more, with what seemed to Alec incredible speed. But this +time he gave way to no further indecision. Where she had darted under +the trees he followed in her path. + +They were just under the covert of the first trees on a steep footpath +when he stopped her, and above him she turned, listening. The scent of +moss and fern and overhanging leaf was sweet. So perfect a woodland +bower was the place, so delicate did the lady seem to his imagination, +that he wished he could tell his concern for her alarm and readiness to +devote himself to her cause. But when he saw her shrink from him, he +could only stand awkwardly, tell her in a few clumsy words that he and +the other man had changed places, he did not know how, and he had +thought to take her to the farm. + +"Your voice is very like his," she said, looking at him strangely. + +But he now knew certainly, what for the last hour had seemed to him +almost impossible, that in very truth the religious assembly was to take +place that night; and the thought of it, and of the strange excitement +with which others had gone before them on that same path took from Alec, +and, he supposed, from the lady also, the power to give much +consideration to their own strange encounter. When he had told her of +the time he had seen old Cameron at prayer in the lone wintry fields, +and how far he had just walked to see him again in the strange +conditions of to-night, they climbed on together. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +There is nothing of which men take less heed than the infection of +emotion, a thing as real as that mysterious influence which in some +diseases leaps forth from one to another till all are in the same pain. +With the exception, perhaps, of the infection of fear, which societies +have learnt to dread by tragic experience, man still fondly supposes +that his emotions are his own, that they must rise and fall within +himself, and does not know that they can be taken in full tide from +another and imparted again without decrease of force. May God send a +healthful spirit to us all! for good or evil, we are part of one +another. + +There were a good many people who went up the mountain that night to +find the enthusiasts, each with some purpose of interference and +criticism. They went secure in their own sentiments, but with minds +tickled into the belief that they were to see and hear some strange +thing. They saw and heard not much, yet they did not remain wholly their +own masters. Perhaps the idea that Cameron's assembly would be well +worth seeing was gleaned partly from the lingering storm, for an +approaching storm breeds in the mind the expectation of exciting +culmination, but long before the different seekers had found the meeting +place, which was only known to the loyal-hearted, the storm, having +spent itself elsewhere, had passed away. + +There was an open space upon a high slope of the hill. Trees stood above +it, below, around--high, black masses of trees. It was here old +Cameron's company had gathered together. No woodland spot, in dark, damp +night, ever looked more wholly natural and of earth than this. Sophia +Rexford and Alec Trenholme, after long wandering, came to the edge of +this opening, and stopped the sound of their own movements that they +might look and listen. They saw the small crowd assembled some way off, +but could not recognise the figures or count them. Listening intently, +they heard the swaying of a myriad leaves, the drip of their moisture, +the trickle of rivulets that the rain had started again in troughs of +summer drought, and, amidst all these, the old man's voice in accents of +prayer. + +Even in her feverish eagerness to seek Winifred, which had sustained her +so long, Sophia chose now to skirt the edge of the wood rather than +cross the open. As they went through long grass and bracken, here and +there a fallen log impeded their steps. A frog, disturbed, leaped before +them in the grass; they knew what it was by the sound of its falls. +Soon, in spite of the rustle of their walking, they began to hear the +old man's words. + +It seemed that he was repeating such passages of Scripture as ascribe +the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Whether these were strung together in +a prayer, or whether he merely gave them forth to the night air as the +poetry on which he fed his soul, they could not tell. The night was much +lighter now than when the storm hung over. They saw Cameron standing on +a knoll apart from his company, his face upturned to the cloudy sky. +Beyond him, over the lower ranks of trees, the thunder cloud they had +feared was still visible, showing its dark volume in the southern sky by +the frequent fiery shudderings which flashed through its length and +depth; but it had swept away so far that no sound of its thunder touched +their air; and the old man looked, not at it but at the calm, +cloud-wrapped sky above. + +"The Son of Man is coming in the clouds of heaven with power, and great +glory." + +The words fell upon the silence that was made up of the subdued sounds +of nature; it seemed to breathe again with them; while their minds had +time to be taken captive by the imagery. Then he cried, + +"He shall send His angels with a trumpet, and a great voice, and they +shall gather the elect upon the four winds. Two shall be in the fields; +one shall be taken and the other left." He suddenly broke off the +recitation with a heartpiercing cry. "My Lord and my God! Let none of +Thy children here be left. Let none of those loved ones, for whom they +have come here to entreat Thee, be among those who are left. Let it +suffice Thee, Lord, that these have come to meet Thee on Thy way, to ask +Thee that not one of their beloved may be passed over now, when Thou +comest--_Now!_" + +The last word was insistent. And then he passed once more into the +prayer that had been the burden of his heart and voice on the night that +Alec had first met him. That seemed to be the one thought of his poor +crazed brain--"Come, Lord Jesus!" + +The little band were standing nearer the trees on the upper side of the +open. They seemed to be praying. Sophia came to the end of the +straggling line they formed, and there halted, doubtful. She did not +advance to claim her sister; she was content to single out her childish +figure as one of a nearer group. She tarried, as a worshipper who, +entering church at prayer-time, waits before walking forward. Alec stood +beside his unknown lady, whose servitor he felt himself to be, and +looked about him with no common interest. About thirty people were clad +in white; there were a few others in ordinary clothes; but it was +impossible to tell just how many of these latter were there or with what +intent they had come. A young man in dark clothes, who stood near the +last comers peered at them very curiously: Alec saw another man sitting +under a tree, and gained the impression, from his attitude, that he was +suffering or perplexed. It was all paltry and pitiful outwardly, and +yet, as he looked about, observing this, what he saw had no hold on his +mind, which was occupied with Cameron's words; and under their +influence, the scene, and the meaning of the scene, changed as his mood +changed in sympathy. + +A hymn began to rise. One woman's voice first breathed it; other voices +mingled with hers till they were all singing. It was a simple, swaying +melody in glad cadence. The tree boughs rocked with it on the lessening +wind of the summer night, till, with the cumulative force of rising +feeling, it seemed to expand and soar, like incense from a swinging +censer, and, high and sweet, to pass, at length through the cloudy walls +of the world. The music, the words, of this song had no more of art in +them than the rhythmic cry of waves that ring on some long beach, or the +regular pulsations of the blood that throbs audibly, telling our sudden +joys. Yet, natural as it was, it was far more than any other voice of +nature; for in it was the human soul, that can join itself to other +souls in the search for God; and so complete was the lack of form in the +yearning, that this soul came forth, as it were, unclothed, the more +touching because in naked beauty. + + "Soon you will see your Saviour coming, + In the air." + +So they sang. This, and every line, was repeated many times. It was only +by repetition that the words, with their continuity of meaning, grew in +ignorant ears. + + "All the thoughts of your inmost spirit + Will be laid bare, + If you love Him, He will make you + White and fair." + +Then the idea of the first line was taken up again, and then again, with +renewed hope and exultation in the strain. + + "Hark! you may hear your Saviour coming." + +It was a well-known Adventist hymn which had often roused the hearts of +thousands when rung out to the air in the camp meetings of the northern +States; but to those who heard it first to-night it came as the +revelation of a new reality. As the unveiling of some solid marble +figure would transform the thought of one who had taken it, when +swathed, for a ghost or phantom, so did the heart's desire of these +singers stand out now with such intensity as to give it objective +existence to those who heard their song. + +Into the cloud-walled heaven they all looked. It is in such moments that +a man knows himself. + +Old Cameron, lifting up his strong, voice again, was bewailing the sin +of the world. "We sinners have not loved Thee, O Christ. We have not +trusted Thy love. We have not been zealous for Thy glory. This--this is +our sin. All else Thou would'st have mended in us; but this--this is our +sin. Have mercy! Have mercy! Have mercy!" Long confession came from him +slowly, bit by bit, as if sent forth, in involuntary cries, from a heart +rent by the disappointment of waiting. In strong voice, clear and true, +he made himself one with the vilest in this pleading, and all the vices +with which the soul of man has degraded itself were again summed up by +him in this--"We have not loved Thee. We have not trusted Thy love. We +are proud and vain; we have loved ourselves, not Thee." + +How common the night was--just like any other night! The clouds, as one +looked at them, were seen to swing low, showing lighter and darker +spaces. How very short a time can we endure the tensest mood! It is like +a branding iron, which though it leaves its mark forever, cannot be +borne long. The soul relaxes; the senses reclaim their share of us. + +Some men came rather rudely out from under the trees, and loitered near. +Perhaps all present, except Cameron, noticed them. Alec did; and felt +concerning them, he knew not why, uneasy suspicion. He noticed other +things now, although a few minutes before he had been insensible to all +about him. He saw that the lady he waited upon had dropped her face into +her hands; he saw that her disdainful and independent mood was melted. +Strangely enough, his mind wandered back again to her first companion, +and he wondered that she had not sent back for him or mourned his +absence. He was amazed now at his own assumption that design, not +accident, had caused such desertion. He could almost have started in +his solicitude, to seek the missing man, such was the rebound of his +mind. Yet to all this he only gave vagrant thoughts, such as we give to +our fellows in church. The temple of the night had become a holy place, +and his heart was heavy--perhaps for his old friend, standing there with +uplifted face, perhaps on account of the words he was uttering, perhaps +in contrition. In a few minutes he would go forward, and take the old +preacher by the arm, and try, as he had once tried before, to lead him +to rest and shelter from so vain an intensity of prayer. But just now he +would wait to hear the words he said. He could not but wait, for so +dull, so silent, did all things remain, that the earnestness of the +expectant band made itself felt as an agony of hope waning to despair. + +Absorbed in this, Alec heard what came to him as harsh profane speech; +and yet it was not this; it was the really modest address of a young man +who felt constrained to speak to him. + +"I don't know," he said nervously (his accent was American), "who _you_ +may be, but I just wish to state that I've a sort of notion one of those +fellows right down there means mischief to one of these poor ladies in +white, who is his wife. I ain't very powerful myself, but, I take it, +you're pretty strong, aren't you?" + +Alec gave impatient assent; but the men whom he was asked to watch +approached no nearer to the women but remained behind the preacher. + +All this time old Cameron prayed on, and while it might be that hope in +his followers was failing, in his voice there was increasing gladness +and fervour. + +The clouds above shifted a little. To those wrapped in true anticipation +their shifting was as the first sign of a descending heaven. Somewhere +behind the thick clouds there was a crescent moon, and when in the upper +region of the sky a rift was made in the deep cloud cover, though she +did not shine through, the sky beyond was lit by her light, and the +upper edges of cloud were white as snow. + +As the well of clear far light was opened to the old man's gaze, his +prayer stopped suddenly, and he stood only looking upwards. They did not +see so much as know from the manner in which his voice had failed, that +for him, at least, there were moments of ecstasy in the assurance of +hope. + +"Poor fellow!" muttered Alec under his breath, for he felt the poignant +disappointment of the awakening. + +A sweet sound made some of them turn an instant toward the wood, for a +little bird, disturbed in its hiding there, lilted forth a twittering +song of joy. + +Its notes had not ceased when Alec heard a gasp of terror from the lady +near him, and saw, as one sees an act there is no time to avert, that +one of the rough fellows who were standing behind the old man had +suddenly struck him down by a savage blow upon the head. + +Alec Trenholme ran and sprang upon the man who had struck the blow. Some +other man, he did not see which, wrested the club from the fellow's +hand. In the moments Alec was grappling with him he became conscious +that the old man lying near his feet on the grass was more to him than +revenge, and, with the caprice of a boy who turns from what interests +him less to what interests him more, he contented himself with hurling +the assailant from him, so that he fell heavily down the sloping ground +to where his companions stood. Then Alec pushed others aside and lifted +the wounded man. + +Wounded? His hair was wet with warm blood. There was something done--a +good deal done, by many people--to restore him. Alec remembered +afterwards that the young man who had previously spoken to him had been +active, showing a more personal solicitude than was seen in the awed +kindness even of the women. One lives through such scenes with little +real perception of their details. He knew at last for certain that he +put his burden from him, and throwing himself down laid his ear on the +broad, muscular breast. Long as he listened, there was no movement +there. The mad old preacher was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +When Alec Trenholme rose from the dead man's side he felt his shoulder +taken hold of by a familiar hand. He knew at once that it was his +brother. It was quite what he would have expected, that Robert should be +there; it was surely his business to come after straying sheep. + +The manslayer, awed and sobered by finding what he had done, had been +easily overpowered. Even his comrades helped to bind him. He was a poor +creature at best, and was now in the misery that comes with sudden +reaction from the exaltation of strong drink. + +Alec saw that his brother was limping, that he seemed in actual pain; he +was anxious to know how this was, yet he did not say so. He asked rather +if Robert thought that the old man had consciously awakened from his +trance of expectation, and they both, in spite of all that pressed, +stooped with a lantern some one had lit to look again at the dead face. +Just as he might have looked when the heavens seemed to open above him, +so he looked now. They talked together, wondering who he really was, as +men find words for what is easiest to say, although not relevant to the +moment's necessity. + +So absorbing is the interest of death to those who live in peaceful +times that, now that there was a lamp, all there required to slake their +curiosity by lingering gaze and comment before they would turn away. +Even the prisoner, when he saw the lantern flashed near the face of the +dead, demanded to be allowed to look before they led him down the hill. +His poor wife, who had expected his violence to fall only on herself, +kept by him, hysterically regretting that she had not been the victim. + +Yet, although all this had taken place, it was only a short time before +the energy of a few, acting upon the paralysed will of others, had +cleared the ground. The white-dressed women crossed the open to the +descending path, huddling together as they walked, their eyes perforce +upon the rough ground over which they must pick their steps. There was +many a rift now in the breaking clouds above them, but only a few turned +an upward passionate glance. Sophia moved away in their midst. Seeing +her thus surrounded, Alec did not feel that he need approach. + +"I don't know who she is," he said, pointing her out to Robert. "I +happened, in a queer way, to come up here with her." He paused a moment. +Some sentiment such as that she was a queen among women was in his mind, +but it did not rise to his lips. "She would like your help better than +mine," he added. "If you will see that she and her little sister are +taken care of, I will stay here"--he gave a gesture toward the +corpse--"till a stretcher comes." + +"I will do my best to take care of them all," Robert Trenholme answered +with a sigh. + +Old McNider and his little boy walked behind the women. Robert, limping +as he went, lifted the sleepy child in his arms and joined himself to +the company. They went under the dripping trees, down, down the dark, +slippery path. The white robes hardly glimmered in the darkness. Some of +the women wept; some of them held religious conversation, using such +forms of expression as grow up among certain classes of pious, people +and jar terribly on unaccustomed ears. Those who talked at this time had +less depth of character than those who were silent, and there was +evinced in their conversation a certain pride of resistance to +criticism--that is, they wished to show that if what they had looked for +had not come that night, their expectation of it bad been reasonable, +and that their greatest hopes would shortly be realised to the +confounding of unbelievers. They did not know the manner of their +spirit. Few who indulge in demonstration of piety as a relief to +feeling ever perceive how easily the natural passions can flow into this +channel. + +Jesus wished to try their faith, said they, but they would not cast away +their lamps; no, they must keep them trimmed and burning. They could not +live unless they felt that dear Jesus might come for them any night. + +"Blessed be His holy Name!" cried one. "When He comes the world will see +Him Whom they have despised, and His saints they have looked down on, +too, reignin' together in glory. Yes, glory be to Jesus, there'll be a +turnin' of the tables soon." + +To Trenholme it seemed that they bandied about the sacred name. He +winced each time. + +One woman, with more active intellect than some of the rest, began to +dilate on the signs already in the world which proved the Second Advent +was near. Her tone was not one of exulted feeling, but of calm reason. +Her desire was evidently to strengthen her sisters who might be cast +down. In her view all the ages of the history of the vast human race +were seen in the natural perspective which makes things that are near +loom larger than all that is far. The world, she affirmed, was more evil +than it had ever been. In the Church there was such spiritual death as +never before. The few great revivals there were showed that now the poor +were being bidden from the highways to the marriage feast. And above all +else, it was now proved that the coming of the Lord was nigh, because +bands of the elect everywhere were watching and waiting for the great +event. Her speech was well put forth in the midst of the weary descent. +She did not say more than was needed. If there were drooping hearts +among her friends they were probably cheered. + +Then some more emotional talkers took up the exultant strain again. It +was hard for Trenholme not to estimate the inner hearts of all these +women by the words that he heard, and therefore to attribute all the +grace of the midnight hour to the dead. + +When they got to the bottom of the hill, the farmer, at the request of +men who had gone first, had another waggon in readiness to take home the +women who had come to the hill on foot or who had sent away their +vehicles. Many of them did not belong to the village of Chellaston. It +was evidently better that the lighter waggon which had come from +Chellaston should go round now to the outlying farms, and that all the +villagers should return in that provided by the farmer. Trenholme put in +the child, who was now sleeping, and helped in the women, one by one. +Their white skirts were wet and soiled; he felt this as he aided them to +dispose them on the straw which had been put in for warmth. The farmer, +an Englishman, made some wise, and not uncivil, observations upon the +expediency of remaining at home at dead of night as compared with +ascending hills in white frocks. He was a kind man, but his words made +Winifred's tears flow afresh. She shrank behind the rest. Trenholme +kissed her little cold hand when he had put her in. Then, last of all, +he helped Sophia. + +She had no words ready now to offer him by which to make amends. "You +have hurt your foot?" she said. + +He told her briefly that his foot had twisted under him, so that at +first he had not been able to come on for the sprain, and he clasped her +hand as he bade the waggon drive on. + +Feeling the lack of apology on her own part she thought he had shown +himself the greater, in that he had evidently pardoned her without it. + +He did not feel himself to be great. + +The cart jolted away. Trenholme stood in the farmyard. The light of a +lantern made a little flare about the stable door. The black, huge +barns, around seemed to his weary sense oppressive in their nearness. +The waggon disappeared down the dark lane. The farmer talked more +roughly, now that kindness no longer restrained him, of the night's +event. Trenholme leaned against a white-washed wall, silent but not +listening. He almost wondered he did not faint with the pain in his +ankle; the long strain he had put upon the hurt muscle rendered it +almost agonising, but faintness did not come: it seldom does to those +who sigh for it, as for the wings of a dove, that they may go far away +with it and be at rest. The farmer shut the stable door, put out the +light, and Trenholme limped out the house with him to wait for his +brother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +All this time Alec was walking, like a sentry, up and down beside the +old man's corpse. He was not alone. When the others had gone he found +that the young American had remained with him. He came back from the +lower trees whence he had watched the party disappear. + +"Come to think of it," he said, "I'll keep you company." + +Something in his manner convinced Alec that this was no second thought; +he had had no intention of leaving. He was a slight fellow, and, +apparently too tired now to wish to stand or walk longer, he looked +about him for a seat. None offered in the close vicinity of the corpse +and Alec, its sentinel; but, equal to his own necessity, he took a +newspaper from his pocket, folded it into a small square, laid it on the +wet beaten grass, and sat thereon, arching his knees till only the soles +of his boots touched the ground. To Alec's eye his long, thin figure +looked so odd, bent into this repeated angle, that he almost suspected +burlesque, but none was intended. The youth clasped his hands round his +knees, the better to keep himself upright, and seated thus a few yards +from the body, he shared the watch for some time as mute as was all else +in that silent place. + +Alec's curiosity became aroused. At last he hesitated in his walk. + +"You are from the States?" + +"Well, yes; I am. But I reckon I'm prouder of my country than it has +reason to be of me. I'm down in the mouth to-night--that's a fact." + +A fine description of sorrow would not have been so eloquent, but +exactly what he sorrowed for Alec did not know. It could hardly be for +the death merely. + +Alec paced again. He had made himself an uneven track in the ragged +grass. Had the lineaments of the dead been more clearly seen, death +would have had a stronger influence; but even as it was, death, +darkness, and solitude had a language of their own, in which the hearts +of the two men shared more or less. + +At length the American spoke, arresting Alec's walk. + +"See here," he said, "if what they say is true--and as far as I know it +is--he's got up from being dead _once_ already." + +The emphasis on the word "once" conveyed the suggestion which had +evidently just occurred to him. + +"Oh, I know all about _that_ story." Alec spoke with the scorn of +superior information, casting off the disagreeable suggestion. "I was +there myself." + +"You were, were you? Well, so was I, and I tell you I know no more than +babe unborn whether this old gentleman's Cameron or not." + +Alec's mind was singularly free from any turn for speculative thought. +He intended to bring Bates to see the dead in the morning, and that +would decide the matter. He saw no sense in debating a question of fact. + +"I was one of the fellows in that survey," explained Harkness, "and if +you're the fellow we saw at the station, as I reckon you are, then I +don't know any more about this old gentleman I've been housing than you +do." + +Trenholme had an impulse to command silence, but, resisting it, only +kept silence himself and resumed his tread over the uneven ground. + +"'Tisn't true," broke in the other again, in unexpected denial of his +own words, "that that's all I know. I know something more; 'tisn't much, +perhaps, but as I value my soul's salvation, I'll say it here. Before I +left the neighbourhood of Turrifs, I heard of this old gentleman here +a-making his way round the country, and I put in currency the report +that he was Cameron, and I've no doubt that that suggestion made the +country folks head him off towards Turrifs Station as far as they could +influence his route; and that'll be how he came there at Christmas time. +Look you here! I didn't know then, and I don't know now, whether he +_was_ or _wasn't_--I didn't think he was--but for a scheme I had afoot I +set that idea going. I did it by telegraphing it along the line, as if +I'd been one of the operators. The thing worked better than I expected." + +Alec listened without the feeling of interest the words were expected to +arouse. To his mind a fellow who spoke glibly about his soul's salvation +was either silly or profane. He had no conception that this man, whose +way of regarding his own feelings, and whose standard of propriety as to +their expression, differed so much from his own, was, in reality, going +through a moral crisis. + +"Well?" said he. + +"Well, I guess that's about all I have to say." + +"If you don't know anything more, I don't see that you've told me +anything." He meant, anything worth telling, for he did not feel that he +had any interest with the other's tricks or schemes. + +"I do declare," cried Harkness, without heeding his indifference, "I'm +just cut up about this night's affair; I never thought Job would set on +anyone but his wife. I do regret I brought this good old gentleman to +this place. If some one offered me half Bates's land now, I wouldn't +feel inclined to take it." + +Trenholme returned to his pacing, but when he had passed and re-passed, +he said, "Cameron doesn't seem to have been able to preach and pray like +an educated man; but Bates is here, he will see him to-morrow, and if he +doesn't claim the body, the police will advertise. Some one must know +who the old man is." + +The words that came in return seemed singularly irrelevant. "What about +the find of asbestos the surveyor thought he'd got on the hills where +Bates's clearing is? Has Bates got a big offer for the land?" + +"He has had some correspondence about it," said Trenholme, stiffly. + +"He'll be a rich man yet," remarked the American, gloomily. "Asbestos +mines are piling in dollars, I can tell you. It's a shame, to my mind, +that a snapping crab-stick like that old Bates should have it all." He +rose as with the irritation of the idea, but appeared arrested as he +looked down at the dead man. "And when I think how them poor ladies got +their white skirts draggled, I do declare I feel cut up to that extent I +wouldn't care for an asbestos mine if somebody came and offered it to me +for nothing this minute." + +Then, too absorbed in feeling to notice the bathos of his speech, he put +his hands in his pockets, and began strolling up and down a beat of his +own, a few yards from the track Trenholme had made, and on the other +side of the dead. + +As they walked at different paces, and passing each other at irregular +times, perhaps the mind of each recurred to the remembrance of the other +ghostly incident and the rumour that the old man had already risen once. +The open spot of sloping ground surrounded by high black trees, which +had been so lately trodden by many feet, seemed now the most desolate of +desolate places. The hymn, the prayer, that had arisen there seemed to +leave in the air only that lingering influence which past excitement +lends to its acute reaction. + +A sudden sharp crack and rustling, coming from out the gloom of the +trees, startled them. + +"Ho!" shouted the American. "Stand! Is there any one there?" + +And Alec in his heart called him a fool for his pains, and yet he +himself had not been less startled. Nothing more was heard. It was only +that time--time, that mysterious medium through which circumstance comes +to us from the source of being; that river which, unseen, unfelt, +unheard, flows onward everywhere--had just then brought the moment for +some dead branch to fall. + + +END OF BOOK II. + + + + +BOOK III. + +"_Nothing is inexorable but Love_." + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +That which is to be seen of any event, its causes and consequences, is +never important compared with the supreme importance of those unseen +workings of things physical and things spiritual which are the heart of +our life. The iceberg of the northern seas is less than its unseen +foundations; the lava stream is less than the molten sea whence it +issues; the apple falling to the ground, and the moon circling in her +orbit, are less than the great invisible force which controls their +movements and the movements of all the things that do appear. The crime +is not so great as its motive, nor yet as its results; the beneficent +deed is not so great as the beneficence of which it is but a fruit; yet +we cannot see beneficence, nor motives, nor far-reaching results. We +cannot see the greatest forces, which in hidden places, act and +counteract to bring great things without observation; we see some broken +fragments of their turmoil which now and again are cast up within our +sight. + +Notwithstanding this, which we all know, the average man feels himself +quite competent to observe and to pass judgment on all that occurs in +his vicinity. In the matter of the curious experience which the sect of +the Adventists passed through in Chellaston, the greater part of the +community formed prompt judgment, and in this judgment the chief element +was derision. + +The very next day, in the peaceful Sunday sunshine, the good people of +Chellaston (and many of them were truly good) spent their breath in +expatiating upon the absurdity of those who had met with the madman upon +the mountain to pray for the descent of heaven. It was counted a good +thing that a preacher so dangerously mad was dead; and it was +considered as certain that his followers would now see their folly in +the same light in which others saw it. It was reported as a very good +joke that when one white-clad woman had returned to her home, wan and +weary, in the small hours of the night, her husband had refused to let +her in, calling to her from an upper window that _his wife_ had gone to +have a fly with the angels, and he did not know who _she_ might be. +Another and coarser version of the same tale was, that he had taken no +notice of her, but had called to his man that the white cow had got +loose and ought to be taken back into the paddock. Both versions were +considered excellent in the telling. Many a worthy Christian, coming out +of his or her place of worship, chuckled over the wit of this amiable +husband, and observed, in the midst of laughter, that his wife, poor +thing, had only got her deserts. + +In the earlier hours of that Sunday morning rumour had darted about, +busily telling of the sudden freak the drunkard's violence had taken, +and of Father Cameron's death. Many a version of the story was brought +to the hotel, but through them the truth sifted, and the people there +heard what had really occurred. Eliza heard, for one, and was a good +deal shocked. Still, as the men about the place remarked that it was a +happy release for Father Cameron, who had undoubtedly gone to heaven, +and that it was an advantage, too, to Job's wife, who would now be saved +from further torment at her husband's hands, her mind became +acquiescent. For herself, she had no reason to be sorry the old man was +dead. It was better for him; it was better for her, too. So, without +inward or outward agitation, she directed the morning business of the +house, setting all things in such order that she, the guiding hand of it +all, might that afternoon take holiday. + +Some days before she had been invited by Mrs. Rexford to spend this +afternoon with them and take tea. Then, as it was said that Principal +Trenholme, in spite of a sprained ankle, had insisted upon taking the +Church services as usual, all the fine ladies at the hotel intended to +go and hear him preach in the evening. Eliza would go too. This +programme was highly agreeable to her, more so than exciting amusement +which would have pleased other girls better. Although nothing would have +drawn expression of the fact from her, in the bottom of her deeply +ambitious heart she felt honoured by the invitations Miss Rexford +obtained for her, and appreciated to the full their value. She also knew +the worth of suitable attendance at church. + +Sunday was always a peaceful day at Chellaston. Much that was truly +godly, and much that was in truth worldly, combined together to present +a very respectable show of sabbath-keeping. The hotel shared in the +sabbath quiet, especially in the afternoon, when most people were +resting in their rooms. + +About three o'clock Eliza was ready to go to her room on the third story +to dress for the afternoon. This process was that day important, for she +put on a new black silk gown. It was beflounced and befrilled according +to the fashion of the time. When she had arranged it to a nicety in her +own room, she descended to one of the parlours to survey herself in the +pier-glass. No one was there. The six red velvet chairs and the uniform +sofa stood in perfect order round the room. The table, with figured +cloth, had a large black Bible on it as usual. On either side of the +long looking-glass was a window, in which the light of day was somewhat +dulled by coarse lace curtains. Abundance of light there was, however, +for Eliza's purpose. She shut the door, and pushed aside the table which +held the Bible, the better to show herself to herself in the +looking-glass. + +Eliza faced herself. She turned and looked at herself over one shoulder; +then she looked over the other shoulder. As she did so, the curving +column of her white neck was a thing a painter might have desired to +look at, had he been able to take his eyes from the changeful sheen on +her glossy red hair. But there was no painter there, and Eliza was +looking at the gown. She walked to the end of the room, looking backward +over her shoulder. She walked up the room toward the mirror, observing +the moving folds of the skirt as she walked. She went aside, out of the +range of the glass, and came into it again to observe the effect of +meeting herself as though by chance, or rather, of meeting a young woman +habited in such a black silk gown, for it was not in herself precisely +that Eliza was at the moment interested. She did not smile at herself, +or meet her own eyes in the glass. She was gravely intent upon looking +as well as she could, not upon estimating how well she looked. + +The examination was satisfactory. Perhaps a woman more habituated to +silk gowns and mantua-makers would have found small wrinkles in sleeve +or shoulder; but Eliza was pleased. If the gown was not perfect, it was +as good a one as she was in the habit of seeing, even upon gala +occasions. And she had no intention of keeping her gown for occasions; +her intention was that it should be associated with her in the ordinary +mind of the place. Now that she was fortunate enough to possess silk +(and she was determined this should only be the forerunner of a +succession of such gowns) people should think of her as Miss White, who +wore silk in the afternoons. She settled this as she saw how well the +material became her. Then, with grave care, she arranged a veil round +the black bonnet she wore, and stood putting on new gloves preparatory +to leaving the room. Eliza was not very imaginative; but had she been +disposed to foresee events, much as she might have harassed herself, she +would not have been more likely to hit upon the form to be taken by the +retributive fate she always vaguely feared than are the poor creatures +enslaved by fearful imaginations. + +The door opened, and Harkness thrust his handsome head into the room. He +was evidently looking for her. When he saw her he came in hastily, +shutting the door and standing with his back to it, as if he did not +care to enter further. + +Eliza had not seen him that day. After what had happened, she rather +dreaded the next interview, as she did not know what he might find to +say; but the instant she saw him, she perceived that it was something +more decisive than he had ever shown sign of before. He looked tired, +and at the same time as if his spirit was upwrought within him and his +will set to some purpose. + +"I'm real glad to see you," he said, but not pleasantly. "I've been +looking for you; and it's just as well for you I found you without more +ado." + +"I'm just going out," said Eliza; "I can't stay now." + +"You'll just stop a bit where you are, and hear what I'm going to say." + +"I can't," said she, angrily; but he was at the door, and she made no +movement towards it. + +He talked right on. "I'm going away," he said. "I've packed up all that +I possess here in this place, and I'm going to depart by this +afternoon's train. No one much knows of this intention. I take it you +won't interfere, so I don't mind confiding my design to your _kind_ and +_sympathetic_ breast." + +The emphasis he laid on the eulogy was evidently intended for bitter +sarcasm. Anger gave her unwonted glibness. + +"I'll ask you to be good enough to pay our bill, then. If you're making +off because you can't pay your other debts it's no affair of mine." + +He bowed mockingly. "You are real kind. Can't think how much obliged I +am for your tactful reminder; but it don't happen to be my financial +affairs that I came to introdooce to your notice." He stammered a +moment, as if carried rather out of his bearings by his own loquacity. +"It's--it's rather _your_ finances that I wish to enlarge upon." + +She opposed herself to him in cold silence that would not betray a gleam +of curiosity. + +"You're a mighty fine young lady, upon my word!" he observed, running +his eye visibly over her apparel. "Able to work for yourself, and buy +silk skirts, and owning half a bit of ground that people are beginning +to think will be worth something considerable when they get to mining +there. Oh, you're a fine one--what with your qualities and your +fortune!" + +A sudden unbecoming colour came with tell-tale vehemence over her cheek +and brow. + +"Your qualities of mind, as I've remarked, are fine; but the qualities +of your heart, my dear, are finer still. I've been making love to you, +with the choicest store of loving arts, for eight long months; and the +first blush I've been enabled to raise on your lovely countenance is +when I tell you you've more money than you looked for! You're a +tender-hearted young lady!" + +"The only train I ever heard of on Sunday afternoon goes pretty soon," +she said; and yet there was now an eager look of curiosity in her eyes +that belied her words. + +He took no notice of her warning, but resumed now with mock apology. +"But I'm afraid I'm mistaken in the identity. Sorry to disappoint you, +but the estate I allude to belongs to Miss Cameron, who lived near a +locality called Turrifs Station. Beg pardon, forgot for the moment your +name was White, and that you know nothing about that interesting and +historic spot." + +Perhaps because she had played the part of indifference so long, it +seemed easiest to her, even in her present confusion of mind; at any +rate she remained silent. + +"Pity you weren't her, isn't it?" He showed all his white teeth. He had +been pale at first, but in talking the fine dark red took its wonted +place in his cheeks. He had tossed back his loose smoke-coloured hair +with a nervous hand. His dark beauty never showed to better advantage as +he stood leaning back on the door. "Pity you aren't her, isn't it?" he +repeated, smilingly. + +She had no statuesque pose, but she had assumed a look of insensibility +almost equal to that of stone. + +"Come to think of it, even if you were her, you'd find it hard to say so +now; so, either way, I reckon you'll have to do without the tin. 'Twould +be real awkward to say to all your respectable friends that you'd been +sailing under false colours; that 'White' isn't your _bona fide_ +cognomen; that you'd deserted a helpless old woman to come away; and as +to _how you left your home_--the sort of _carriage_ you took to, my +dear, and how you got over the waggoner to do the work of a sexton--Oh, +my, fine tale for Chellaston, that! No, my dear young lady, take a +fatherly word of admonition; your best plan is to make yourself easy +without the tin." + +He looked at her, even now, with more curiosity than malice in his +smiling face. A power of complete reserve was so foreign to his own +nature that without absolute proof he could not entirely believe it in +her. The words he was speaking might have been the utter nonsense to her +that they would have been to any but the girl who was lost from the +Bates and Cameron clearing for all hint she gave of understanding. He +worked on his supposition, however. He had all the talking to himself. + +"You're mighty secret! Now, look at me. I'm no saint, and I've come here +to make a clean breast of that fact. When I was born, Uncle Sam said to +me, 'Cyril P. Harkness, you're a son of mine, and it's your vocation to +worship the God of the Pilgrim Fathers and the Almighty Dollar'; and I +piped up, 'Right you are, uncle.' I was only a baby then." He added +these last words reflectively, as if pondering on the reminiscence, and +gained the object of his foolery--that she spoke. + +"If you mean to tell me that you're fond of money, that's no news. I've +had sense to see _that_. If you thought I'd a mine belonging to me +somewhere that accounts for the affection you've been talking of so +much. I _begin_ to _believe_ in it now." + +She meant her words to be very cutting, but she had not much mobility of +voice or glance; and moreover, her heart was like lead within her; her +words fell heavily. + +"Just so," said he, bowing as if to compliment her discrimination. "You +may believe me, for I'm just explaining to you I'm not a saint, and that +is a sentiment you may almost always take stock in when expressed by +human lips. I was real sick last summer; and when I came to want a +holiday I thought I'd do it cheap, so when I got wind of a walking +party--a set of gentlemen who were surveying--I got them to let me go +along. Camp follower I was, and 'twas first rate fun, especially as I +was on the scent of what they were looking for. So then we came on +asbestos in one part. Don't know what that is, my dear? Never mind as to +its chemical proportions; there's dollars in it. Then we dropped down on +the house of the gentleman that owned about half the hill. One of them +was just dead, and he had a daughter, but she was lost, and as I was +always mighty fond of young ladies, I looked for her. Oh, you may +believe, I looked, till, when she was nowhere, I half thought the man +who said she was lost had been fooling. Well, then, I--" (he stopped and +drawled teasingly) "But _possibly_ I intrude. Do you hanker after +hearing the remainder of this history?" + +She had sat down by the centre table with her back to him. + +"You can go on," she muttered. + +"Thanks for your kind permission. I haven't got much more to tell, for I +don't know to this mortal minute whether I've ever found that young lady +or not; but I have my suspicions. Any way, that day away we went across +the lake, and when the snow drove us down from the hills the day after, +the folks near the railroad were all in a stew about the remains of +Bates's partner, the poppa of the young lady. His remains, having come +there for burial, and not appearing to like the idea, had taken the +liberty of stepping out on the edge of the evening, and hooking it. So +said I, 'What if that young lady was real enterprising! what if she got +the waggoner to put her poppa under the soil of the forest, and rode on +herself, grand as you please, in his burial casket!' (That poor waggoner +drank himself to death of remorse, but that was nothing to her.) The +circumstances were confusing, and the accounts given by different folks +were confusing, and, what's more, 'tisn't easy to believe in a sweet +girl having her poppa buried quite secret; most young ladies is too +delicate. Still, after a bit, the opinion I've mentioned did become my +view of the situation; and I said to myself 'Cyril, good dog; here's +your vocation quite handy. Find the young lady, find her, good fellow! +Ingratiate yourself in her eyes, and you've got, not only an asbestos +mine, but a wife of such smartness and enterprise as rarely falls to the +lot of a rising young man.' I didn't blame her one bit for the part she +had taken, for I'd seen the beast she'd have had to live with. No doubt +her action was the properest she could take. And I thought if I came on +her panting, flying, and offered her my protection, she'd fall down and +adore me. So, to make a long tale short, I stopped a bit in that +locality, hunting for her quite private after every one else had given +up hunting. I heard of a daft old man who'd got about, the Lord only +knows how, and I set the folks firmly believing that he was old Cameron. +Well, _if_ he was, then the girl was lost and dead; but if he +_wasn't_--well, I twigged it she'd got on the railroad, and, by being +real pleasant to all the car men, I found out, quite by the way and +private, how she might have got on, and where any girl had got off, till +by patience and perseverance I got on your track; and I've been eight +months trying to fathom your deepness and win your affections. The more +fool I! For to try to win what hasn't any more existence than the pot at +the rainbow's tail is clear waste of time. Deep you are; but you haven't +got any of the commodity of affection in your breast." + +"Why didn't you tell me this before, like an honest man?" she asked; +"and I'd have told you you didn't know as much as you thought you did." +Her voice was a little thick; but it was expressionless. + +"I'm not green. If you'd known you were possessed of money, d'you +suppose you'd have stayed here to marry me? Oh no, I meant to get that +little ceremony over first, and _spring the mine_ on you for a wedding +present _after_. The reason I've told you now is that I wouldn't marry +you now, not if you'd ten millions of dollars in cash in your pocket." + +"Why not? If I'm the person you take me for, I'm as rich and clever +now." She still sat with her back to him; her voice so impassive that +even interrogation was hardly expressed in words that had the form of a +question. + +"Yes, and you'd be richer and cleverer now with me, by a long chalk, +than without me! If you'd me to say who you are, and that I'd known it +all along, and how you'd got here, and to bring up the railroad fellows +(I've got all their names) who noticed you to bear witness, your claim +would look better in the eyes of the law. 'Twould look a deal better in +the eyes of the world, too, to come as Mrs. Cyril P. Harkness, saying +you had been Miss Cameron, than to come on the stage as Miss White, +laying claim to another name; and it would be a long sight more +comfortable to have me to support and cherish you at such a time than +not to have a friend in the world except the folks whose eyes you've +pulled the wool over, and who'll be mighty shocked. Oh, yes; by Jemima! +you'd be richer and cleverer now with me than without me. But I'll tell +you what I've come here to say"--his manner took a tone more serious; +his mocking smile passed away; he seemed to pause to arrest his own +lightness, and put on an unwonted dignity. "I tell you," he repeated +slowly, "what I've come here to say--I do despise a young lady without a +heart. Do you know what occurred last night? As good an old gentleman as +ever lived was brutally felled to the earth and killed; a poor man who +was never worse than a drunkard has become a murderer, and there's a +many good pious ladies in this town who'll go about till death's day +jeered at as fools. Would you like to be marked for a fool? No, you +wouldn't and neither will they; and if you're the young lady I take you +for, you could have hindered all this, _and_ you didn't. _I_ brought the +old man to this place; I am to blame in that, my own self, I am; but I +tell you, by the salvation of my soul, when I stood last night and heard +him pray, and saw those poor ladies with their white garbs all +bedraggled, around him praying, I said to myself, 'Cyril, you've reason +to call on the rocks and hills to cover you,' and I had grace to be +right down sorry. I'm right down ashamed, and so I'm going to pull up +stakes and go back to where I came from; and I've come here now to tell +you that after what I've seen of you in this matter I'd sooner die than +be hitched with you. You've no more heart than my old shoe; as long as +you get on it's all one to you who goes to the devil. You're not only as +sharp as I took you for, but a good deal sharper. Go ahead; you'll get +rich somehow; you'll get grand; but I want you to know that, though I'm +pretty tricky myself, and 'cute enough to have thought of a good thing +and followed it up pretty far, I've got a heart; and I do despise a +person made of stone. I was _real_ fond of you, for you far exceeded my +expectations; but I'm not fond of you now one bit. If you was to go down +on your bended knees and ask me to admire you now, I wouldn't." + +She listened to all the sentence he pronounced upon her. When he had +finished she asked a question. "What do you mean about going to law +about the clearin'?" + +"Your worthy friend, Mr. Bates, has arrived in this place this very day. +He's located with the Principal, he _is_." + +"He isn't here," she replied in angry scorn. + +"All right. Just _as you please_." + +"He isn't here," she said more sulkily. + +"But _he is_." + +She ignored his replies. "What do you mean about going to law about the +land?" + +"Why, I haven't got much time left,"--he was standing now with his watch +in his hand--"but for the sake of old times I'll tell you, if you don't +see through that. D'you suppose Bates isn't long-headed! He's heard +about Father Cameron being here, and knowing the old man couldn't give +an account of himself, he's come to see him and pretend he's your +father. Of course he's no notion of you being here. He swears right and +left that you went over the hills and perished in the snow; and he's got +up great mourning and lamenting, so I've heard, for your death. Oh, +Jemima! Can't you see through that?" + +"Tell me what you mean," she demanded, haughtily. She was standing again +now. + +"Why, my dear, if you knew a bit more of the world you'd know that it +meant that he intends to pocket all the money himself. And, what's more, +he's got the best of the situation; for you left him of your own accord, +my dear, and changed your name, and if you should surprise him now by +putting in an appearance and saying you're the lost young lady, what's +to hinder him saying you're _not_ you, and keeping the tin? I don't know +who's to swear to you, myself. The men round Turrifs said you were +growing so fast that between one time and another they wouldn't know +you. Worst, that is, of living in out-of-the-way parts--no one sees you +often enough to know if you're you or if you're not you." + +"It is not true," she cried. He had at last brought the flash to her +eyes. She stood before him palpitating with passion. "You are a liar!" +she said, intensely. "Mr. Bates is as honest as"--words failed +her--"as--as honest and as good as _you_ don't even know how to think +of." + +He was like a necromancer who, although triumphant at having truly +raised a spirit by his incantations, quails mystified before it. + +"Oh well, since you feel so badly about it I'll not say that you mayn't +outwit him if you put in your claim. You needn't give up all for lost if +he does try to face it out." + +"Give up what for lost? Do you think I care about this old mine so much? +I tell you, sooner than hear a tricky sharper like you say that Mr. +Bates is as cunning as you are, I'd--I'd--" She did not say more, but +she trembled with passion. "Go!" she concluded. "If you say I'm +unfeeling, you say a thing I suppose is true enough; but you've said +things to me this afternoon that are not true; and if there's a good +honest man in this world, it's Mr. Bates. Sooner than not believe that +I'd--sooner die." + +The tears had welled up and overflowed her eyes. Her face was red and +burning. + +"Say, Eliza," he said, gently enough. He was more astonished than he +could realise or express, but he was really troubled to see her cry. + +"Oh, don't 'Eliza' me!" she cried, angrily. "You said you were going to +go--go--go--I tell you, go! What business is it of yours, I'd like to +know, to mention Mr. Bates to me? You've no business with either him or +me." + +"Upon my word! I'll take my gospel oath I've said no more than I do +believe." + +"I dare say not. You don't know what an honest man is, so how could you +believe in one?" + +"I've a real soft heart; I hate to see you cry, Eliza." + +"Well, Mr. Bates hasn't a soft heart at all; he's as unkind as can be; +but he's as much above you, with all your softness, as light is above +boot blacking." + +She was not good-looking in her tears. She was not modest in her anger; +all the crude rude elements of her nature broke forth. She wrenched the +door open although with obstinate strength he tried to keep it shut, +desiring stupidly to comfort her. She cast him aside as a rough man +might push a boy. When she was making her way upstairs he heard +smothered sounds of grief and rage escaping from her. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +When Eliza had been in her own room for about half an hour, her passion +had subsided. She was not glad of this; in perverseness she would have +recalled the tempest if she could, but she knew not what to call back or +how to call. She knew no more what had disturbed her than in times of +earthquake the sea water knows the cause of its unwonted surging. She +sat angry and miserable; angry with Harkness, not because he had called +her heartless--she did not care in the slightest for his praise or +blame--but because he had been the bearer of ill tidings; and because he +had in some way produced in her the physical and mental distress of +angry passion, a distress felt more when passion is subsiding. She +ranked it as ill tidings that her father's land had risen in value. She +would rather that her worldly wisdom in leaving it had been proved by +subsequent events than disproved, as now, by news which raised such a +golden possibility before her ignorant eyes, that her heart was rent +with pangs of envy and covetousness, while her pride warred at the very +thought of stooping to take back what she had cast away, and all the +disclosure that must ensue. Above all, she counted it ill tidings that +Bates was reported to be in the place. She was as angry with him now as +on the day she had left him--more angry--for now he could vaunt new +prosperity as an additional reason why she had been wrong to go. Why had +he come here to disturb and interrupt? What did the story about Father +Cameron matter to him? She felt like a hunted stag at bay; she only +desired strength and opportunity to trample the hunter. + +Partly because she felt more able to deal with others than with the dull +angry misery of her own heart, partly because she was a creature of +custom, disliking to turn from what she had set out to do, she found +herself, after about an hour of solitude, rearranging her street toilet +to walk to Mrs. Rexford's house. + +When she had made her way down to the lower flat of the hotel she found +Harkness had spoken the truth in saying he intended to go, for he was +gone. The men in the cool shaded bar-room were talking about it. Mr. +Hutchins mentioned it to her through the door. He sat in his big chair, +his crutches leaning against him. + +"Packed up; paid his bill; gone clear off--did you know?" + +"Yes, I knew," said Eliza, although she had not known till that moment. + +"Said he was so cut up, and that he wouldn't stay to give evidence +against poor Job, or be hauled before the coroner to be cross-questioned +about the old man. He's a sharp 'un; packed up in less time than it +takes most men to turn round--adjustable chair and all." + +Eliza had come to the threshold of the bar-room door to hear all he +said. The sunshine of a perfect summer day fell on the verandah just +outside, and light airs came through the outer door and fanned her, but +in here the sweet air was tarnished with smoke from the cigars of one or +two loiterers. + +Two men of the village were sitting with their hats on. As they said +"Good-day" to Eliza, they did not rise or take off their hats, not +because they did not feel towards her as a man would who would give this +civility, but because they were not in the habit of expressing their +feelings in that way. Another transient caller was old Dr. Nash, and he, +looking at Eliza, recognised in a dull way something in her appearance +which made him think her a finer woman than he had formerly supposed, +and, pulling off his hat, he made her a stiff bow. + +Eliza spoke only to Mr. Hutchins: "I shall be gone about four hours; I +am going to the Rexfords to tea. You'd better look into the dining-room +once or twice when supper's on." + +"All right," said he, adding, when the clock had had time to tick once, +"Miss White." + +And the reason he affixed her name to his promise was the same that had +compelled Dr. Nash's bow--a sense of her importance growing upon him; +but the hotel-keeper observed, what the old doctor did not, that the +gown was silk. + +"Fine woman that, sir," he remarked, when she was gone, to anyone who +might wish to receive the statement. + +"Well," said one of the men, "I should just think it." + +"She seems," said Dr. Nash, stiffly, "to be a good girl and a clever +one." + +"She isn't _just_ now what I'd call a gurl," said the man who had +answered first. "She's young, I know; but now, if you see her walking +about the dining-room, she's more like a _queen_ than a _gurl_." + +Without inquiring into the nature of this distinction Dr. Nash got into +his buggy. As he drove down the street under the arching elm trees he +soon passed Eliza on her way to the Rexfords, and again he lifted his +hat. Eliza, with grave propriety, returned the salutation. + +The big hawthorn tree at the beginning of Captain Rexford's fence was +thickly bedecked with pale scarlet haws. Eliza opened the gate beside it +and turned up the cart road, walking on its grassy edge, concealed from +the house by ragged lilac trees. She preferred this to-day to the open +path leading to the central door. This road brought her to the end of +the long front verandah. Here she perceived voices from the +sitting-room, and, listening, thought she heard Principal Trenholme +talking. She went on past the gable of the house into the yard, a +sloping straggling bit of ground, enclosed on three sides by the house +and its additions of dairies and stables, and on the fourth side bounded +by the river. For once the place seemed deserted by the children. A +birch, the only tree in the enclosure, cast fluttering shadow on the +closely cropped sod. Sunlight sparkled on the river and on the row of +tin milk pans set out near the kitchen door. To this door Eliza went +slowly, fanning herself with her handkerchief, for the walk had been +warm. She saw Miss Rexford was in the kitchen alone, attending to some +light cookery. + +"I heard company in the front room, so I came round here till they were +gone." + +"You are not usually shy," said Sophia. + +Eliza sat down on a chair by the wall. With the door wide open the yard +seemed a part of the kitchen. It was a pleasant place. The birch tree +flicked its shadow as far as the much-worn wooden doorstep. + +"I was very sorry to hear about last night, Miss Sophia," said Eliza, +sincerely, meaning that she was sorry on Winifred's account more +immediately. + +"Yes," said Sophia, acknowledging that there was reason for such +sympathy. + +"Is that Principal Trenholme talking?" asked Eliza. The talk in the +sitting-room came through the loose door, and a doubt suddenly occurred +to her. + +"No; it's his brother," said Sophia. + +"The voices are alike." + +"Yes; but the two men don't seem to be much alike." + +"I didn't know he had a brother." + +"Didn't you? He has just come." + +Sophia was taking tea-cakes from the oven. Eliza leaned her head against +the wall; she felt warm and oppressed. One of the smaller children +opened the sitting-room door just then and came into the kitchen. The +child wore a very clean pinafore in token of the day. She came and sat +on Eliza's knee. The door was left ajar; instead of stray words and +unintelligible sentences, all the talk of the sitting-room was now the +common property of those in the kitchen. + +In beginning to hear a conversation already in full flow, it is a few +moments before the interchange of remarks and interrogations makes sense +to us. Eliza only came to understand what was being talked of when the +visitor said "No, I'm afraid there's no doubt about the poor girl's +death. After there had been two or three snow-storms there was evidently +no use in looking for her any more; but even then, I think it was months +before _he_ gave up hopes of her return. Night after night he used to +hoist a pinewood torch, thinking she might have fallen in with Indians +and be still alive and trying to make her way back. The fact of the +matter was, Mrs. Rexford, Bates _loved_ her, and he simply _could not_ +give her up for dead." + +The young man had as many emphasised words in his speech as a girl might +have had, yet his talk did not give the impression of easily expressed +feeling. + +"Ah, it was very sad." + +"Yes, I didn't know I could have minded so much a thing that did not +affect me personally. Then when he had given up hope of finding her +living, he was off, when the spring came, everywhere over the woods, +supposing that if she had perished, her body could be found when the +snow was gone. I couldn't help helping him to search the place for miles +round. It's a fine place in spring, too; but I don't know when one cares +less about spring flowers than when one's half expecting the dead body +of a girl to turn up in every hollow where they grow thickest. I've +beaten down a whole valley of trillium lilies just to be sure she had +not fallen between the rocks they grew on. And if I felt that way, you +may suppose it was bad enough for Bates." + +"He seems to have had a feeling heart." + +"Oh well, he had brought the girl up. I don't think he cared for +anything in the world but her." + +"And Dr. Nash saw Mr. Bates as soon as you got him to your brother's? If +Dr. Nash thinks he'll pull through I should think you must feel +hopeful." + +"Yes--well, I left him on the sofa. He's rather bad." + +There was a pause, as if Mrs. Rexford might be sighing and shaking her +head over some suffering before described. + +Sophia had gone to the milk cellar to get cream for tea. Eliza followed +her out into the yard. + +"I had better not stay to tea," said she, "there won't be room." + +"Oh yes, there will; I have a headache, so I'm not going into the +dining-room." + +"Then I won't stay. I would rather come some night when you are there." + +"How handsome your dress looks! You are getting quite a fine lady, +Eliza." + +"My dress!" said Eliza, looking down at it. It seemed to her so long +since she thought of it. "Yes," she continued, stroking it, "it looks +very nicely, doesn't it?" + +Sophia assented heartily. She liked the girl's choice of clothes; they +seemed to remove her from, and set her far above, the commoner people +who frequented the hotel. + +"You're very tired, Miss Sophia, I can see; and it's no wonder after +last night. It's no fun staying to-night, for we all feel dull about +what's happened; I'll go now." + +Eliza went quietly down the lane again, in shadow of the lilac hedge, +and let herself out of the wooden gate; but she did not return to the +village. She looked down the road the other way, measuring with her eyes +the distance to the roof of Trenholme's house. She walked in that +direction, and when she came to Captain Rexford's pasture field, she got +through the bars and crossed it to a small wood that lay behind. Long +golden strips of light lay athwart the grass between elongated shades +cast by cows and bushes. The sabbath quiet was everywhere. All the cows +in the pasture came towards her, for it was milking time, and any one +who came suggested to them the luxury of that process. Some followed her +in slow and dubious fashion; some stopped before her on the path. Eliza +did not even look at them, and when she went in among the young fir +trees they left her alone. + +It was not a thick wood; the evening sun shone freely between the clumps +of young spruce. In an open glade an elm tree stood, stretching out +branches sensitive to each breath of air, golden in the slant sunlight +above the low dark firs. The roots of this tree were raised and dry. +Eliza sat down on them. She could see between the young trees out to the +side of the college houses and their exit to the road. She could see the +road too: it was this she watched. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Eliza sat still in her rough woodland chamber till the stray sunbeams +had left its floor of moss and played only through the high open windows +in the elm bough roof. She had seen the cows milked, and now heard the +church bells ring. She looked intently through the fissures of the +spruce shrub walls till at length she saw a light carriage drive away +from the college grounds with the clergyman and his brother in it. She +knew now that their house would be left almost empty. After waiting till +the last church-going gig had passed on the road and the bells had +stopped, she went into the college grounds by a back way, and on to the +front of Trenholme's house. + +As was common in the place, the front door yielded when the handle was +turned. Eliza had no wish to summon the housekeeper. She stood in the +inner hall and listened, that she might hear what rooms had inmates. +From the kitchen came occasional clinking of cups and plates; the +housekeeper had evidently not swerved from her regular work. With ears +preternaturally acute, Eliza hearkened to the silence in the other rooms +till some slight sound, she could hardly tell of what, led her upstairs +to a certain door. She did not knock; she had no power to stand there +waiting for a response; the primitive manners of the log house in which +she had lived so long were upon her. She entered the room abruptly, +roughly, as she would have entered the log house door. + +In a long chair lay the man she sought. He was dressed in common +ill-fitting clothes; he lay as only the very weak lie, head and limbs +visibly resting on the support beneath them. + +She crossed her arms and stood there, fierce and defiant. She was +conscious of the dignity of her pose, of her improved appearance and of +her fine clothes; the consciousness formed part of her defiance. But he +did not even see her mood, just as, manlike, he did not see her dress. +All that he did see was that here, in actual life before him, was the +girl he had lost. In his weakness he bestirred himself with a cry of +fond wondering joy--"Sissy!" + +"Yes, Mr. Bates, I'm here." + +Some power came to him, for he sat erect, awed and reverent before this +sudden delight that his eyes were drinking in. "Are you safe, Sissy?" he +whispered. + +"Yes," she replied, scornfully, "I've been quite safe ever since I got +away from you, Mr. Bates. I've taken care of myself, so I'm quite safe +and getting on finely; but I'd get on better if my feet weren't tied in +a sack because of the things you made me do--you _made_ me do it, you +know you did." She challenged his self-conviction with fierce intensity. +"It was you made me go off and leave your aunt before you'd got any one +else to take care of her; it was you who made me take her money because +you'd give me none that was lawfully my own; it was you that made me run +away in a way that wouldn't seem very nice if any one knew, and do +things they wouldn't think very nice, and--and" (she was incoherent in +her passion) "you _made_ me run out in the woods alone, till I could get +a train, and I was so frightened of you coming, and finding me, and +_telling_, that I had to give another name; and _now_, when I'm getting +on in the world, I have to keep hiding all this at every turn because +people wouldn't think it very pretty conduct. They'd think it was queer +and get up a grand talk. So I've told lies and changed my name, and it's +you that made me, Mr. Bates." + +He only took in a small part of the meaning of the words she poured upon +him so quickly, but he could no longer be oblivious to her rage. His joy +in seeing her did not subside; he was panting for breath with the +excitement of it, and his eyes gloated upon her; for his delight in her +life and safety was something wholly apart from any thought of himself, +from the pain her renewed anger must now add to the long-accustomed pain +of his own contrition. + +"But how," he whispered, wondering, "how did you get over the hills? +How?--" + +"Just how and when I could. 'Twasn't much choice that you left me, Mr. +Bates. It signifies very little now how I got here. I _am_ here. You've +come after the old man that's dead, I suppose. You might have saved +yourself the trouble. He isn't father, if _that's_ what you thought." + +He did not even hear the last part of her speech. He grasped at the +breath that seemed trying to elude him. + +"You went out into the woods alone," he said, pityingly. He was so +accustomed to give her pity for this that it came easily. "You--you mean +over our hills to the back of the--" + +"No, I don't, I wasn't such a silly as to go and die in the hills. I got +across the lake, and I'm here now--that's the main thing, and I want to +know why you're here, and what you're going to do." + +Her tone was brutal. It was, though he could not know it, the half +hysterical reaction from that mysterious burst of feeling that had made +her defend him so fiercely against the American's evil imputation. + +She was not sufficiently accustomed to ill health to have a quick eye +for it; but she began now to see how very ill he looked. The hair upon +his face and head was damp and matted; his face was sunken, +weather-browned, but bloodless in the colouring. His body seemed +struggling for breath without aid from his will, for she saw he was +thinking only of her. His intense preoccupation in her half fascinated, +half discomforted her, the more so because of the feverish lustre of his +eye. + +"I'm sorry you're so ill, Mr. Bates," she said, coldly; "you'd better +lie down." + +"Never mind about me," he whispered, eagerly, and feebly moved upon the +seat to get a little nearer her. "Never mind about me; but tell me, +Sissy, have you been a good girl since you got off like this? You're +safe and well--have you been good?" + +"I took your aunt's money, if you mean that, but I left you my half of +things for it; and anyway, it was you who made me do it." + +"Yes, yes," he assented, "'twas my doing; the sin of all you did then +lies at my door. But since then, Sissy?" His look, his whole attitude, +were an eager question, but she looked at him scornfully. + +"Of _course_ I've been good. I go to church and say my prayers, and +every one respects me. I worked first in a family, but I didn't let them +call me a servant. Then I got a place in the Grand Hotel. Old Mr. +Hutchins had got lame, so he couldn't see after things, and I could. +I've done it now for six months, and it's a different house. I always do +everything I do well, so we've made money this summer. I'm thinking of +making Mr. Hutchins take me into partnership; he'd rather do it than +lose me. I'm well thought of, Mr. Bates, by everybody, and I'm going to +get rich." + +"Rich," he echoed, quietly. He looked now, his mind drawn by hers, at +her fine clothes, and at the luxuriant red hair that was arranged with +artificial display. The painfulness of his breath and his weakness +returned now within his range of feeling. + +Without having expected to absorb his mind or knowing that she cared to +do so, she still felt that instant that something was lost to her. The +whole stream of his life, that had been hers since she had entered the +room, was no longer all for her. She pressed on quietly to the business +she had with him, fearing to lose a further chance. + +"Look here, Mr. Bates! It's not more than a few hours since I heard you +were here, so I've come to tell you that I'm alive and all right, and +all that I've done that wasn't very nice was your fault; but, look here, +I've something else to say: I don't know why you've come here to see +this old preacher, or who he is, or what you have to do with him; but it +would be cruel and mean of you now, after driving me to do what I did, +to tell the people here about it, and that my name isn't White, you +know. I've very nice friends here, who'd be shocked, and it would do me +harm. I'm not going to accuse you to people of what you've done. I'm +sorry you're ill, and that you've had all the trouble of hunting for me, +and all that; but I've come to ask you now to keep quiet and not say who +I am." + +He drew great sighs, as a wounded animal draws its breath, but he was +not noticing the physical pain of breathing. He did not catch at breath +as eagerly as he was trying to catch at this new idea, this new Sissy, +with a character and history so different from what he had supposed. His +was not a mind that took rational account of the differences between +characters, yet he began to realise now that the girl who had made her +own way, as this one had, was not the same as the girl he had imagined +wandering helplessly among pathless hills, and dying feebly there. + +She still looked at him as if demanding an answer to her request, looked +at him curiously too, trying to estimate how ill he _was_. He did not +speak, and she, although she did not at all fathom his feeling, knew +instinctively that some influence she had had over him was lessened. + +"Of course you can spoil my life if you like, Mr. Bates, but I've come +to ask you not. Someone's told me there's a mine found on our +clearin'--well, when I took your aunt's gold pieces I meant to leave you +the land for them. I'm too proud to go back on that now, _far_ too +proud; you can keep the money if you want to, or you can give me some of +it if you _want_ to. I'd like to be rich better than anything, but I'd +rather be poor as a church mouse, and free to get on my own way, than +have you to say what I ought to do every touch and turn, thinking I'd +only be good and sensible so long as I did what you told me" (there was +derision in her voice). "But now, as I say, you have the chance to make +me miserable if you choose; but I've come to ask you not to, although if +you do, I dare say I can live it down." + +He looked at her bewildered. A few moments since and all the joy bells +of his life had been a-chime; they were still ringing, but jangling +confusedly out of tune, and--now she was asking him to conceal the cause +of his joy, that he had found her. He could not understand fully; his +mind would not clear itself. + +"I won't do anything to make you miserable, Sissy," he said, faintly. + +"You won't tell that you've seen me, or who I am, or anything?" she +insisted, half pleading, half threatening. + +He turned his face from her to hide the ghastly faintness that was +coming over him. "I--I oughtn't to have tried to keep you, when I did," +he said. + +"No, you oughtn't to," she assented, quickly. + +"And I won't speak of you now, if that's what you want." + +"Thank you," she said, wondering what had made him turn his back to her. +"You aren't very ill, are you, Mr. Bates?" + +"No--you--I only can't get my breath. You'd better go, perhaps." + +"Yes, I think I had," she replied. + +And she went. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +There are many difficulties in this world which, if we refuse to submit +to them, will in turn be subdued by us, but a sprained ankle is not one +of them. Robert Trenholme, having climbed a hill after he had twisted +his foot, and having, contrary to all advice, used it to some extent the +next day, was now fairly conquered by the sprain and destined to be held +by this foot for many long days. He explained to his brother who the +lady was whom he had taken up the hill, why he himself had first +happened to be with her, and that he had slipped with one foot in a +roadside ditch, and, thinking to catch her up, had run across a field +and so missed the lane in the darkness. This was told in the meagre, +prosaic way that left no hint of there being more to tell. + +"What is she like?" asked Alec, for he had confessed that he had talked +to the lady. + +"Like?" repeated Robert, at a loss; "I think she must be like her own +mother, for she is like none of the other Rexfords." + +"All the rest of the family are good-looking." + +"Yes," said Robert dreamily. + +So Alec jumped to the conclusion that Robert did not consider Miss +Rexford good-looking. He did not tell anything more about her or ask +anything more. He saw no reason for insulting Robert by saying he had at +first overheard her conversation, and that it had been continued to him +after she had mistaken one for the other. He wondered over those of her +remarks which he remembered, and his family pride was hurt by them. He +did not conceive that Robert had been much hurt, simply because he +betrayed no sign of injured feeling. Younger members of a family often +long retain a curiously lofty conception of their elders, because in +childhood they have looked upon them as embodiments of age and wisdom. +Alec, in loose fashion of thought, supposed Robert to be too much +occupied by more important affairs to pay heed to a woman's opinion of +him, but he cherished a dream of some day explaining to Miss Rexford +that she was mistaken in his brother's character. His pulse beat quicker +at the thought, because it would involve nearness to her and equality of +conversation. That Robert had any special fancy for the lady never +entered his mind. + +Although we may be willing to abuse those who belong to us we always +feel that the same or any censure coming from an outsider is more or +less unjust; and, too, although the faults of near relatives grieve us +more bitterly than the crimes of strangers, yet most of us have an +easy-going way of forgetting all about the offence at the first +opportunity. There is nothing in the world stronger than the quiet force +of the family tie, which, except in case of need, lies usually so +passive that its strength is overlooked by the superficial observer. It +was by virtue of this tie now that the two brothers, although they had +so great a difference, although they were so constituted as to see most +things very differently, found themselves glad to be in each other's +company. Their hearts grew warmer by mere proximity; they talked of old +family incidents, and of the incidents of the present, with equal zest. +The one thing they did not immediately mention was the subject of the +quarrel about which they had not yet come to an agreement. + +One thing that fretted Alec considerably during that Sunday and Monday +was that Bates had arrived at Chellaston in such a weak state, and had +had so severe an attack of his malady on the Sunday evening, that it was +impossible to take him to see the body of the old man who went by the +name of Cameron. It was in vain that Bates protested, now more strongly +than ever, that he was certain the man was not Cameron; as he would give +no proof of his certainty further than what had already been discussed +between them, Alec could not but feel that he was unreasonable in +refusing to take any interest in the question of identity. However, he +was not well enough to be troubled, certainly not well enough to be +moved. Alec strode over to Cooper's farm alone, and took a last look at +the old man where he lay in a rough shed, and gave his evidence about +the death before the coroner. + +What few belongings the old man had were taken from the Harmon house by +the coroner before Harkness left, but no writing was found upon them. A +description of the body was advertised in the Monday's papers, but no +claim came quickly. Natural law is imperious, seeking to gather earth's +children back to their mother's breast, and when three warm days were +past, all of him that bore earthly image and superscription was given +back to earth in a corner of the village cemetery. An Adventist +minister, who sometimes preached in Chellaston, came to hold such +service as he thought suitable over the grave, and Alec Trenholme was +one of the very few who stood, hat in hand, to see the simple rite. + +They were not in the old graveyard by the river, but in a new cemetery +that had been opened on a slope above the village. It was a bare, stony +place; shrubs that had been planted had not grown. In the corner where +they untie it, except little by little, in a lifetime, or in +generations of lives! Alec Trenholme, confronted almost for the first +time with the thought that it is not easy to find the ideal modern life, +even when one is anxious to conform to it, began tugging at all the +strands of difficulty at once, not seeing them very clearly, but still +with no notion but that if he set his strength to it, he could unravel +them all in the half-hour's walk that lay between him and the college. + +He had not got from under the arching elms at the thin end of the +village when two young ladies in an open phaeton bowed to him. He was +not absent; his mind worked wholesomely at the same instant with his +senses. He saw and knew that these were the Miss Browns, to whom Robert +had introduced him at the end of the Sunday evening service. He thought +them very pretty; he had seen then that they were very gentle and +respectful to Robert; he saw now from the smile that accompanied the +bow, that he was a person they delighted to honour. They were driving +quickly: they were past in a flash of time; and as he replaced his hat +upon his head, he thought that he really was a very good-looking fellow, +very well proportioned, and straight in the legs. He wondered if his +clothes were just the thing; they had not been worn much, but it was a +year since he had got them in England to bring out, and their style +might be a little out of date! Then he thought with satisfaction that +Robert always dressed very well. Robert was very good-looking too. They +were really a very fine pair of brothers! Their father had been a very +fine--He had got quite a bit further on the road since he met the +carriage, so lightly had he stepped to the tune of these thoughts, so +brightly had the sun shone upon them. Now he thought of that pile of +aprons he had in his portmanteau, and he saw them, not as they were now, +freshly calendered in the tight folds of a year's disuse, but as he had +often seen them, with splashes of blood and grease on them. He fancied +the same stains upon his hands; he remembered the empty shop he had +just passed near the general store, which for nearly a year back he had +coveted as a business stand. He estimated instinctively the difference +in the sort of bow the pretty Brown girls would be likely to give him if +he carried his own purpose through. The day seemed duller. He felt more +sorry for his brother than he had ever felt before. He looked about at +the rough fields, the rude log fences, at the road with its gross +unevennesses and side strips of untrimmed weeds. He looked at it all, +his man's eyes almost wistful as a girl's. Was it as hard in this new +crude condition of things to hew for oneself a new way through the +invisible barriers of the time-honoured judgments of men, as it would be +where road and field had been smoothed by the passing of generations? + +He had this contrast between English and Canadian scenery vividly in his +mind, wondering what corresponding social differences, if any, could be +found to make his own particular problem of the hour more easy, and all +the fine speculations he had had when he came down from the cemetery had +resolved themselves into--whether, _after all_, it would be better to go +on being a butcher or not, when he came to the beginning of the Rexford +paling. He noticed how battered and dingy it was. The former owner had +had it painted at one time, but the paint was almost worn off. The front +fencing wanted new pales in many places, and the half acre's space of +grass between the verandah and the road was wholly unkempt. It certainly +did not look like the abode of a family of any pretensions. It formed, +indeed, such a contrast to any house he would have lived in, even had +painting and fencing to be done with his own hand, that he felt a sort +of wrath rising in him at Miss Rexford's father and brother, that they +should suffer her to live in such a place. + +He had not come well in front before he observed that the women of the +family were grouped at work on the green under a tree near the far end +of the house. A moment more, and he saw the lady of the midnight walk +coming towards him over the grass. He never doubted that it was she, +although he had not seen her before by daylight. She had purposely +avoided him on the Sunday; he had felt it natural she should do so. Now +when he saw her coming--evidently coming on purpose to waylay and speak +to him, the excitement he felt was quite unaccountable, even to himself; +not that he tried to account for it--he only knew that she was coming, +that his heart seemed to beat against his throat, that she had come and +laid her hand upon the top of the paling, and looked over at him and +said: + +"Have they buried him? Did you--have you been there?" + +"Yes," said he. + +"We have only just heard a rumour that the funeral was taking place. I +thought when I saw you that perhaps you had been there. I am so glad you +went." Her eyes looked upon him with kind approval. + +He fancied from her manner that she thought herself older than he--that +she was treating him like a boy. Her face was bright with interest and +had the flush of some slight embarrassment upon it. + +He told her what had happened and where the grave was, and stood in the +sweet evening air with quieted manner before her. She did not seem to be +thinking of what he said. "There was something else that I--I rather +wanted to take the first opportunity of saying to you." + +All her face now was rosy with embarrassment, and he saw that, although +she went on bravely, she was shy--shy of him! He hardly took in what she +was saying, in the wonder, in the pleasure of it. Then he knew that she +had been saying that she feared she had talked to him while mistaking +him for his brother, that what she had said had doubtless appeared very +wild, very foolish, as he did not know the conversation out of which it +grew; probably he had forgotten or had not paid heed at the time, but if +he should chance to remember, and had not already repeated her words, +would he be kind enough not to do so, and to forget them himself? + +This was her request, and he guessed, from the tenor of it, that she did +not know how little he had heard in all or how much she had said to him +and how much to his brother; that she would like to know, but was too +proud to ask or to hear; that, in fact, this proud lady had said words +that she was ashamed of. + +"I haven't said a word to Robert about it, and of course I won't now." +It was a very simple thing to say, yet some way he felt a better man in +his own eyes because she had asked him. He did not claim that he had +paid no attention or forgotten, for he felt just now that all her words +were so supremely worthy of deference that he only wished he could +remember more of what she had let fall when her heart was stirred. "Of +course," he said, "I didn't know it had been Robert, or I would have +gone back for him." + +He floundered on into the midst of excuses, and her embarrassment had +time to pass away, with it the blush on her face, and he felt as if a +sun had somewhere set. + +"Thank you" (she was all sedateness now) "I fear that Principal +Trenholme is suffering very much from his foot and will be kept in for +some time. If you had told me that you had repeated my unjust speeches I +should have asked you to take some apology, to say that I am quite +willing to acknowledge my own--unreasonableness." + +He saw that this speech was intended to cover all the ground, and that +he was desired to impart as much of the apology as he believed to be +needed, and no more. He remembered now that he had intended to plead +Robert's cause, but could think of nothing to say except-- + +"Robert is--Robert really is an awfully good man." + +This he said so suddenly and so earnestly looking at her, that she was +betrayed into an unintended answer. + +"Is he?" And then in a moment she smiled on him again, and said warmly, +"He certainly is if you say that; a brother knows as no one else can." + +She was treating him like a boy again. He did not like it now because +he had felt the sweetness of having her at an advantage. There are some +men who, when they see what they want, stretch out their hands to take +it with no more complexity of thought than a baby has when it reaches +for a toy. At other times Alec Trenholme might consider; just then he +only knew that he wanted to talk longer with this stately girl who was +now retiring. He arrested her steps by making a random dash at the first +question that might detain her. + +There was much that, had he known his own mind clearly and how to +express it, he would have liked to say to her. Deep down within him he +was questioning whether it was possible always to live under such +impulse of fealty to Heaven as had befallen him under the exciting +influence of Cameron's expectation, whether the power of such an hour to +sift the good from the evil, the important from the unimportant in life, +could in any wise be retained. But he would have been a wholly different +man from what he was had he thought this concisely, or said it aloud. +All that he did was to express superficial curiosity concerning the +sentiments of others, and to express it inanely enough. + +"Do you think," he said, "that all those poor people--my brother's +housekeeper, for instance--do you think they really thought--really +expected--" + +"I think--" she said. (She came back to the fence and clasped her hands +upon it in her interest.) "Don't you think, Mr. Trenholme, that a person +who is always seeking the Divine Presence, lives in it and has power to +make other people know that it is near? But then, you see, these others +fancy they must model their seeking upon the poor vagaries of their +teacher. We are certain that the treasure is found, but--we mix up +things so, things are really so mixed, that we suppose we must shape our +ideas upon the earthen vessel that holds it. I don't know whether I have +said what I mean, or if you understand--" she stopped. + +She was complaining that people will not distinguish between the +essence of the heaven-sent message and the accident of form in which it +comes. He did not quite understand, because, if the truth must be told, +he had not entirely listened; for although all the spiritual nature that +was in him was stimulated by hers, a more outward sympathy asserted +itself too; he became moved with admiration and liking for her, and +feeling struggled with thought. + +"Yes," he said, dreaming of her alone, "if one could always be with +people who are good, it would be easier to do something worth doing." + +Notwithstanding her interest in what she was saying, Sophia began now to +see the inclination of his heart for her as one might see a trivial +detail of landscape while looking at some absorbing thing, such as a +race. She saw the homage he inwardly proffered more clearly than he saw +it himself. She had seen the same thing before often enough to know it. + +"I think," she continued, "if I had been very ignorant, and had seen a +good deal of this old man, I would have followed him anywhere, because I +would have thought the spiritual force of his life was based on his +opinions, which must therefore be considered true. Isn't that the way we +are apt to argue about any phase of Church or Dissent that has +vitality?" + +But the knowledge she had just come by was making its way to a foremost +place in her thought, and her open heart closed gently as a sensitive +plant closes its leaves. As he watched the animation of her face, he saw +the habitual reserve come over it again like a shadow. He felt that she +was withdrawing from him as truly as if she had been again walking away, +although now she stood still where his renewal of talk had stopped her. +He tried again to grasp at the moment of gracious chance, to claim her +interest, but failed. + +He went on down the road. He had not guessed the lady had seen his +heart, for he hardly saw it himself; yet he called himself a blundering +fool. He wondered that he had dared to talk with her so long, yet he +wondered more that he had not dared to talk longer. In all this he never +thought of social grades, as he had done in connection with the smiles +of the Miss Browns. Sophia Rexford had struck his fancy more as a +superior being; and to angels, or to the Madonna, we do not seek to +recommend ourselves by position or pedigree. + +The strong, clear evening light, tinted with gold, was upon everything. +He felt that if he could but live near the woman he had left, the +problem of living would become simple, and the light of life's best +hours would shine for him always; but he entered into no fine +distinction of ideal friendships. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +In the meantime the elder of the brothers Trenholme had not the +satisfaction of meeting with Sophia Rexford, or of going to see the +strange old man laid away in his last resting-place. + +Robert Trenholme lay in his house, suffering a good deal of physical +pain, suffering more from restlessness of nerve caused by his former +tense activity, suffering most from the consideration of various things +which were grievous to him. + +He had been flouted by the woman he loved. The arrow she had let fly had +pierced his heart and, through that, his understanding. He never told +her, or anyone, how angry he had been at the first stab that wounded, +nor that, when the familiar sound of his brother's voice came to him in +the midst of this anger, he had been dumb rather than claim kindred in +that place with the young man who, by his actions, had already taken up +the same reproach. No, he never told them that it was more in surly rage +than because he had slipped in the ditch that he had let them go on +without him in the darkness; but he knew that this had been the case; +and, although he was aware of no momentous consequences following on +this lapse, he loathed himself for it, asking by what gradual steps he +had descended to be capable of such a moment of childish and churlish +temper. He was a product of modern culture, and had the devil who had +overcome him been merely an unforgiving spirit, or the spirit of +sarcastic wit or of self-satisfied indifference, he might hardly have +noticed that he had fallen from the high estate of Christian manhood, +even though the fiend jumped astride his back and ambled far on him; but +when he found that he had been overcome by a natural impulse of +passionate wrath he was appalled, and was philosopher enough to look for +the cause of such weakness prior to the moment of failure. Was it true, +what Sophia had said, that he had sold his birthright for a little +paltry prosperity? He thought more highly of her discrimination than any +one else would have done, because he loved her. What had she seen in him +to make her use that form of accusation? And if it was true, was there +for him no place of repentance? + +Then he remembered the purer air of the dark mountaintop. There he had +seen many from his own little cure of souls who were shaken by the +madman's fervour as _he_ had never been able to move them by precept or +example. There he, too, had seen, with sight borrowed from the eyes of +the enthusiast, the enthusiast's Lord, seen Him the more readily because +there had been times in his life when he had not needed another to show +him the loveliness that exceeds all other loveliness. He was versed in +the chronicle of the days when the power of God wrought wonders by +devoted men, and he asked himself with whom this power had been working +here of late--with him, the priest, or with this wandering fool, out of +whose lips it would seem that praise was ordained. He looked back to +divers hours when he had given himself wholly to the love of God, and to +the long reaches of time between them, in which he had not cast away the +muck-rake, but had trailed it after him with one hand as he walked +forward, looking to the angel and the crown. He seemed to see St. Peter +pointing to the life all which he had professed to devote while he had +kept back part; and St. Peter said, "Whiles it remained, was it not +thine own? Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God." + +There was for him the choice that is given to every man in this sort of +pain, the choice between dulling his mind to the pain, letting it pass +from him as he holds on his way (and God knows it passes easily), or +clasping it as the higher good. Perhaps this man would not have been +wiser than many other men in his choice had he not looked at the +gathering of his muck-rake and in that found no comfort. Since a woman +had called this prosperity paltry, it seemed less substantial in his own +eyes; but, paltry or worthy, he believed that it was in the power of his +younger brother to reverse that prosperity, and he felt neither brave +enough to face this misfortune nor bad enough to tamper with that +brother's crude ideals for the sake of his own gain. From the length of +his own experience, from the present weariness of his soul, he looked +upon Alec more than ever as a boy to be shielded from the shock of +further disillusion with regard to himself. He had not had Alec's weal a +thorn in his conscience for ten months without coming to feel that, if +merely for the sake of his own comfort, he would not shoulder that +burden again. Now this conception he had of Alec as a weaker man, and of +his ideals as crude and yet needing tender dealing, was possibly a +mistaken one, yet, so curious is our life that, true or false, it was +the thing that at this juncture made him spurn all thought of setting +aside the reproach of his roused sense of loss as morbid or unreal. He +looked to his early realisation of the all-attractiveness of the love of +God, not with the rational view that such phase of religion is ordained +to fade in the heat of life, but with passionate regret that by his own +fault he had turned away from the glory of life. He thought of the +foolish dreamer who had been struck dead in the full impulse of +adoration and longing love, and he would have given reason and life +itself to have such gate of death open now for him. + +His spirit did not rest, but tossed constantly, as a fever patient upon +his bed, for rest requires more than the softest of beds; and as even +those whose bodies are stretched on pillows of down may be too weak to +find bodily rest, so the soul that lies, as do all self-sick souls, in +the everlasting arms, too often lacks health to feel the up-bearing. + +A clever sailor, whose ship is sinking because of too much freight does +not think long before he throws the treasure overboard; a wise man in +pain makes quick vows of abstinence from the cause of pain. In Trenholme +there was little vestige of that low type of will which we see in +lobsters and in many wilful men, who go on clutching whatever they have +clutched, whether it be useful or useless, till the claw is cut off. He +had not realised that he had fallen from the height of his endeavours +before he began to look about eagerly for something that he might +sacrifice. But here he was met by the difficulty that proves that in the +higher stages of human development honest effort after righteousness is +not one whit easier than are man's first simple efforts to put down the +brute in him. Trenholme could find in himself no offending member that +was not so full of good works toward others that he could hardly destroy +it without defrauding them. He had sought nothing for himself that was +not a legitimate object of desire. The world, the flesh, and the devil +had polished themselves to match all that was best in him, and blended +impartially with it, so that in very truth he did not know where to +condemn. A brave man, when examined, will confess all that he honourably +may, but not more; so Trenholme confessed himself to be worldly, but +against that he was forced to confess that a true son of the world would +have been insensible to the torture he was groaning under. He upbraided +himself for not knowing right from wrong, and yet he knew that it was +only a very superficial mind that imagined that without direct +inspiration from Heaven it could detect its sin and error truly. Crying +for such inspiration, his cry seemed unanswered. + +Ah, well, each man must parley as best he may with the Angel who +withstands him in the narrow place where there is no way to turn to the +right hand or the left. We desire at such times to be shown some such +clear portraiture of the ideal to which we must conform in our place and +circumstance as shall cause us no more to mistake good for evil. +Possibly, if such image of all we ourselves ought to be were given to +our gaze, we could not look in its eyes and live. Possibly, if Heaven +granted us the knowledge of all thoughts and deeds that would make up +the ideal self, we should go on our way producing vile imitations of it +and neglecting Heaven, as they do who seek only to imitate the Divine +Example. At any rate, such perfection of self-ideal is not given us, +except with the years that make up the sum of life. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Robert Trenholme had a lively wit, and it stood him many times in lieu +of chapel walls for within it he could retire at all times and be +hidden. Of all that he experienced within his heart at this time not any +part was visible to the brother who was his idle visitor; or perhaps +only the least part, and that not until the moot point between them was +touched upon. + +There came a day, two days after the old preacher had been buried, when +the elder brother called out: + +"Come, my lad, I want to speak to you." + +Robert was lying on a long couch improvised for him in the corner of his +study. The time was that warm hour of the afternoon when the birds are +quiet and even the flies buzz drowsily. Bees in the piebald petunias +that grew straggling and sweet above the sill of the open window, dozed +long in each sticky chalice. Alec was taking off his boots in the lobby, +and in reply to the condescending invitation he muttered some graceless +words concerning his grandmother, but he came into the room and sat +with his elbows on the table. He had an idea of what might be said, and +felt the awkwardness of it. + +"That fellow Bates," he observed, "is devouring your book-case +indiscriminately. He seems to be in the sort of fever that needs +distraction every moment. I asked him what he'd have to read, and he +said the next five on the shelf--he's read the first ten." + +"It's not of Bates I wish to speak; I want to know what you've decided +to do. Are you going to stick to your father's trade, or take to some +other?" + +Robert held one arm above his head, with his fingers through the leaves +of the book he had been reading. He tried to speak in a casual way, but +they both had a disagreeable consciousness that the occasion was +momentous. Alec's mind assumed the cautious attitude of a schoolboy +whispering "_Cave_". He supposed that the other hoped now to achieve by +gentleness what he had been unable to achieve by storm. + +"Of course," he answered, "I won't set up here if you'd rather be quit +of me. I'll go as far as British Columbia, if that's necessary to make +you comfortable." + +"By that I understand that in these ten months your mind has not +altered." + +"No; but as I say, I won't bother you." + +"Have you reconsidered the question, or have you stuck to it because you +said you would?" + +"I have reconsidered it." + +"You feel quite satisfied that, as far as you are concerned, this is the +right thing to do?" + +"Yes." + +"Well then, as far as I am concerned, I don't want to drive you to the +other side of the continent. You can take advantage of the opening here +if you want to." + +Alec looked down at the things on the table. He felt the embarrassment +of detecting his brother in some private religious exercise; nothing, he +thought, but an excess of self-denial could have brought this about; +yet he was gratified. + +"Look here! You'd better not say that--I might take you at your word." + +"Consider that settled. You set up shop, and I will take a fraternal +interest in the number of animals you kill, and always tell you with +conscientious care when the beef you supply to me is tough. And in the +meantime, tell me, like a good fellow, why you stick to this thing. When +you flung from me last time you gave me no explanation of what you +thought." + +"At least," cried Alec, wrath rising at the memory of that quarrel, "I +gave you a fair hearing, and knew what you thought." + +When anger began he looked his brother full in the face, thus noticing +how thin that face was, too thin for a man in the prime of life, and the +eye was too bright. As the brief feeling of annoyance subsided, the +habitual charm of the elder man's smile made him continue to look at +him. + +"And yet," continued Robert, "two wrongs do not make a right. That I am +a snob does not excuse you for taking up any line of life short of the +noblest within your reach." + +The other again warned himself against hidden danger. "You're such a +confoundedly fascinating fellow, with your smiles and your suppressed +religion, I don't wonder the girls run after you. But you are a +Jesuit--I never called you a snob--you're giving yourself names to fetch +me round to see things your way." + +It was an outburst, half of admiring affection, half of angry obstinacy, +and the elder brother received it without resentment, albeit a little +absently. He was thinking that if Alec held out, "the girls" would not +run after him much more. But then he thought that there was one among +them who would not think less, who perhaps might think more of him, for +this sacrifice. He had not made it for her; it might never be his lot to +make any sacrifice for her; yet she perhaps would understand this one +and applaud it. The thought brought a sudden light to his face, and +Alec watched the light and had no clue by which to understand it. He +began, however, defending himself. + +"Look here! You suggest I should take the noblest course, as if I had +never thought of that before. I'm not lower in the scale of creation +than you, and I've had the same bringing up. I've never done anything +great, but I've tried not to do the other thing. I felt I should be a +sneak when I left school if I disappointed father for the sake of being +something fine, and I feel I should be a sneak now if I turned--" + +"You acted like the dear fellow I always knew you were in the first +instance, but why is it the same now? It's not for his sake, surely, +for, for all you know, from where he is now, the sight of you going on +with that work may not give him pleasure, but pain." + +"No; I went into it to please him, but now he's gone that's ended." + +"Then it's _not_ the same now. Why do you say you'd feel like a sneak if +you changed? There is, I think, no goddess or patron saint of the trade, +who would be personally offended at your desertion." + +"You don't understand at all. I'm sick--just sick, of seeing men trying +to find something grand enough to do, instead of trying to do the first +thing they can grandly." + +"I haven't noticed that men are so set on rising." + +"No, not always; but when they're not ambitious enough to get something +fine to do, they're not ambitious enough to do what they do well, unless +it's for the sake of money. Look at the fellows that went to school with +us, half of them shopkeepers' sons. How many of them went in with their +fathers? Just those who were mean enough to care for nothing but +money-making, and those who were too dull to do anything else." + +"The education they got was good enough to give them a taste for higher +callings." + +"Yes"--with a sneer--"and how the masters gloried over such brilliant +examples as yourself, who felt themselves 'called higher,' so to speak! +You had left school by the time I came to it, but I had your shining +tracks pointed out to me all along the way, and old Thompson told me +that Wolsey's father was 'in the same line as my papa,' and he +instructed me about Kirke White's career; and I, greedy little pig that +I was, sucked it all in till I sickened. I've never been able to feed on +any of that food since." + +In a moment the other continued, "Well, in spite of the fact that our +own father was too true and simple ever to be anything but a gentleman, +it remains true that the choice of this trade and others on a level with +it--" + +"Such as hunting and shooting, or the cooking of meats that ladies are +encouraged to devote themselves to." + +"I was saying--the choice of this trade, or of others on a level with +it, be they whatever they are, implies something coarse in the grain of +the average man who chooses it, and has a coarsening effect upon him." + +"If the old novels are any true picture of life, there was a time when +every cleric was a place-hunter. Would you have advised good men to keep +out of the church at that time? I'm told there's hardly an honourable +man in United States politics: is that less reason, or more, for honest +fellows to go into public life there?" (Impatience was waxing again. The +words fell after one another in hot haste.) "There's a time coming when +every man will be taught to like to keep his hands clean and read the +poets; and will you preach to them all then that they mustn't be coarse +enough to do necessary work, or do you imagine it will be well done if +they all do an hour a day at it in amateur fashion? You're thoroughly +inconsistent," he cried. + +"Do you imagine I'm trying to argue with you, boy?" cried the other, +bitterly. "I could say a thousand things to the point, but I've no +desire to say them. I simply wish to state the thing fairly, to see how +far you have worked through it." + +"I've thought it out rather more thoroughly than you, it seems to me, +for at least I'm consistent." + +They were both offended; the elder biting his lip over sarcastic words, +the younger flushed with hasty indignation. Then, in a minute, the one +put away his anger, and the other, forgetting the greater part of his, +talked on. + +"I'll tell you the sort of thing that's made me feel I should be a sneak +to give it up. Just after I left school I went back to visit old +Thompson, and he and his wife took me to a ball at the Assembly Rooms. +It was quite a swell affair, and there weren't enough men. So old +Thompson edged us up to a grand dame with a row of daughters, and I +heard him in plethoric whisper informing her, as in duty bound, just who +I was, 'but,' added he, as a compensating fact, 'there isn't a finer or +more gentlemanly fellow in the room.' So the old hen turned round and +took me in with one eye, all my features and proportions; but it wasn't +till Thompson told her that father was about to retire, and that I, of +course, was looking to enter a higher walk, that she gave permission to +trot me up. Do you think I went? They were pretty girls she had, and the +music--I'd have given something to dance that night; but if I was the +sort of man she'd let dance with her girls, she needn't have taken +anything else into account; and if I was decent enough for them, it was +because of something else in me other than what I did or didn't do. I +swore then, by all that's sweet--by music and pretty girls and +everything else--that I'd carve carcases for the rest of my days, and if +the ladies didn't want me they might do without me. You know how it was +with father; all the professional men in the place were only too glad to +have a chat with him in the reading-rooms and the hotel. They knew his +worth, but they wouldn't have had him inside their own doors. Well, the +worse for their wives and daughters, say I. They did without him; they +can do without me. The man that will only have me on condition his trade +is not mine can do without me too, and if it's the same in a new +country, then the new country be damned!" + +The hot-headed speaker, striding about the room, stopped with the word +that ended this tirade, and gave it out roundly. + +"The thing is," said Robert, "can you do without _them_--all these men +and women who won't have you on your own terms? They constitute all the +men and women in the world for you and me, for we don't care for the +other sort. Can you do without them? I couldn't." He said the "I +couldn't" first as if looking back to the time when he had broken loose +from the family tradition; he repeated it more steadfastly, and it +seemed to press pathetically into present and future--"I couldn't." The +book that he had been idly swinging above his pillow was an old missal, +and he lowered it now to shield his face somewhat from his brother's +downward gaze. + +"No, you couldn't," repeated Alec soberly. He stood with his hands in +his pockets, looking down half pityingly, perhaps with a touch of +superiority. "You couldn't; but I can, and I'll stand by my colours. I +should be a coward if I didn't." + +Robert coloured under his look, under his words, so he turned away and +stood by the window. After a minute Robert spoke. + +"You haven't given me the slightest reason for your repeated assertion +that you would be a coward." + +"Yes, I have. That's just what I've been saying." + +"You have only explained that you think so the more strongly for all +opposition, and that may not be rational. Other men can do this work and +be thankful to get it; you can do higher work." His words were +constrainedly patient, but they only raised clamour. + +"I don't know what you profess and call yourself! What should I change +for? To pamper your pride and mine--is that a worthy end? To find +something easier and more agreeable--is that manly, when this has been +put into my hand? How do I know I could do anything better? I know I can +do this well. As for these fine folks you've been talking of, I'll see +they get good food, wherever I am; and that's not as easy as you think, +nor as often done; and there's not one of them that would do all their +grand employments if they weren't catered for; and as for the other men +that would do it" (he was incoherent in his heat), "they do it pretty +badly, some of them, just because they're coarse in the grain; and you +tell me it'll make them coarser; well then, I, who can do it without +getting coarse, will do it, till men and women stop eating butcher's +meat. You'd think it more pious if I put my religion into being a +missionary to the Chinese, or into writing tracts? Well, I don't." + +He was enthusiastic; he was perhaps very foolish; but the brother who +was older had learned at least this, that it does not follow that a man +is in the wrong because he can give no wiser reason for his course than +"I take this way because I will take it." + +"Disarm yourself, old fellow," he said. "I am not going to try to +dissuade you. I tried that last year, and I didn't succeed; and if I had +promise of success now, I wouldn't try. Life's a fearful thing, just +because, when we shut our eyes to what is right in the morning, at noon +it's not given us to see the difference between black and white, unless +our eyes get washed with the right sort of tears." + +Alec leaned his head out of the window; he felt that his brother was +making a muff of himself, and did not like it. + +"If you see this thing clearly," Robert continued, "I say, go ahead and +do it; but I want you just to see the whole of it. According to you, I +am on the wrong track; but I have got far along it, and now I have other +people to consider. It seems a pity, when there are only two of us in +the world, that we should have to put half the world between us. We used +to have the name, at least of being attached." He stopped to find the +thread, it was a disconnected speech for him to formulate. He had put +his arm under his head now, and was looking round at his brother. "I +have never misrepresented anything. For the matter of that, the man who +had most to do with putting me in my berth here, knew all that there was +to be known about my father. He didn't publish the matter, for the sake +of the school; and when I had taken the school, I couldn't publish it +either. All the world was free to inquire, but as far as I know, no one +has done so; and I have let the sleeping dog lie." + +"I never said you ought to have been more talkative. It's not my +business." + +"The position you take makes it appear that I am in a false position. +Give me time to get about again. I ought at least to be more frank with +my personal friends. Wait till I have opportunity to speak myself--that +is all I ask of you. After that do what you will; but I think it only +right to tell you that if you set up shop here, or near here, I should +resign my place in this college." + +"I'm not going to stay here. I told you I see that won't work." + +"Don't be hasty. As I said, it's hard lines if this must separate us. I +can keep the church. They can't be particular about my status there, +because they can't pay me." + +"It's mad to think of such a thing; it would be worse for the college +than for you." + +"If I knew it would be the worse for the college it might not be right +to do it" (he spoke as if this had cost him thought), "but there are +plenty who can manage a concern like this, now it is fairly established, +even if they could not have worked it up as I have." + +"I'd like to see them get another man like you!"--loudly--"H'n, if they +accepted your resignation they'd find themselves on the wrong side of +the hedge! They wouldn't do it, either; it isn't as if you were not +known now for what you are. They can't be such fools as to think that +where I am, or what I do, can alter you." + +"It is not with the more sensible men who are responsible for the +college that the choice would ultimately lie, but with the boys' +parents. If the numbers drop off--" + +"Then the parents are the greatest idiots--" + +There was a world of wrath in the words, but the principal of the New +College, who felt his position so insecure, laughed. + +"Yes, you may fairly count on that. A clever woman, who kept a girls' +school, told me once that if she had to draw up rules for efficient +school-keeping they would begin:--'1st. Drown all the parents!'--My own +experience has led me to think she was not far wrong." + +Alec stood looking out of the open window with a thunderous face. For +several reasons, some of which he hardly understood, he did not want to +leave Chellaston; but he had no intention of ruining his brother. It +annoyed him that Robert should seriously propose to retire, and more, +that he should let jokes and laughter fall on the heels of such a +proposal. He did not know that there are hours to some men, coming not +in the heat of party conflict, but in the quiet of daily life, when +martyrdom would be easy, and any sacrifice short of martyrdom is mere +play. And because he did not know this, he did not believe in it, just +as the average man does not. His cogitation, however, was not on such +abstruse matters, nor was it long, but its result was not insignificant. + +"Put your money into it," he said, "and fight it out! Put part of my +money into it, if you like, and let us fight it out together." + +Perhaps the sentiment that actuated the suggestion, even as concerned +part of his own inheritance, was nothing more than pugilistic; the idea, +however, came to Robert Trenholme as entirely a new one. The proceeds of +his father's successful trade lay temporarily invested, awaiting Alec's +decision, and his own share would probably be ample to tide the college +over any such shock to its income as might be feared from the +circumstances they had been contemplating, and until public confidence +might be laboriously regained. The plan was not one that would have +occurred to his own mind--first, because the suggestions of his mind +were always prudent; secondly, because such a fight was shocking to +that part of his nature which was usually uppermost. It would be far +more agreeable to him to turn away from the averted eyes of correct +taste than to stand brazenly till he was again tolerated. Still, this +very thing he disliked most might be the thing that he was meant to do, +and also there is nothing more contagious than the passion for war. +Alec's bellicose attitude aroused party spirit in him. He knew the power +of money; he knew the power of the prestige he had; he began to realise +that he could do this thing if he chose. + +"You are a piece of consummate conceit," he mocked. "Do you imagine that +with a little money, and a very few personal graces, we two can +brow-beat the good judgment of the public?" + +"The fun of the fight would be worth the money _almost_," observed Alec +parenthetically. Then he jeered: "Brace up, and put on more style; put +your groom in livery; get a page to open your front door; agitate till +you get some honorary degrees from American colleges! And as for me, +I'll send out my bills on parchment paper, with a monogram and a crest." + +"Do you so despise your fellow men?" asked Robert sadly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +For a day or two previous to the conversation of the brothers about +Alec's decision, Alec had been debating in his own mind what, after all, +that decision had better be. Never had he come so near doubting the +principle to which he adhered as at this time. A few days went a long +way in Chellaston towards making a stranger, especially if he was a +young man with good introduction, feel at home there, and the open +friendliness of Chellaston society, acting like the sun in AEsop's fable, +had almost made this traveller take off his coat. Had Robert been a +person who had formerly agreed with him, it is probable that when the +subject was opened, he would have confessed the dubious condition of his +heart, and they would together have very carefully considered the +advisability of change of plan. Whether the upshot in that case would +have been different or not, it is impossible to say, for Robert had not +formerly agreed with him, and could not now be assumed to do so, and +therefore for Alec, as a part of militant humanity, there was no +resource but to stand to his guns, forgetting for the time the weakness +in his own camp, because he had no thought of betraying it to the enemy. +He who considers such incidents (they are the common sands of life), and +yet looks upon the natural heart of man as a very noble thing, would +appear to be an optimist. + +However that may be, the conversation ended, Alec's heart stood no +longer in the doubtful attitude. There are those who look upon +confessions and vows as of little importance; but even in the lower +affairs of life, when a healthy man has said out what he means, he +commonly means it more intensely. When Alec Trenholme had told his +brother that he still intended to be a butcher, the thing for him was +practically done, and that, not because he would have been ashamed to +retract, but because he had no further wish to retract. + +"And the mair fules ye are baith," said Bates, having recourse to broad +Scotch to express his indignation when told what had passed. + +It was out of good nature that Alec had told the one invalid what had +been going on in the other's room, but Bates was only very much annoyed. + +"I thought," said he, "that ye'd got that bee out of yer ain bonnet, but +ye're baith of ye daft now." + +"Come now, Bates; you wouldn't dare to say that to my 'brother, the +clergyman.'" + +"I know more what's due than to call a minister a fule to his face, but +whiles it's necessary to say it behind his back." + +"Now I call him a hero, after what he's said to-day." + +Alec was enjoying the humour of poking up the giant of conventionality. + +"Hoots, man; it's yourself ye regard as a hero! Set yerself up as a +Juggernaut on a car and crush him under the wheels!" + +"Oh, I'm going to British Columbia. I won't take him at his word; but +I'm pleased he had pluck enough to think of taking the bull by the +horns." + +"But I'm thinking ye just will take him at his word, for it's the +easiest--standing there, patting him on the back, because he's given up +to you!" + +It was as odd a household this as well might be. Alec spent some of his +time offering rough ministrations to his lame brother and asthmatic +visitor, but more often left them to the sad but conscientious care of +Mrs. Martha, preferring to exercise his brother's horses; and he scoured +the country, escaping from social overtures he did not feel prepared to +meet. To all three men Mrs. Martha was at this time an object of silent +wonder. Before the Adventist disturbance she had appeared a very +commonplace person; now, as they saw her going about her daily work, +grim in her complete reserve, questions which could hardly be put into +words arose in their minds concerning her. She suggested to them such +pictorial ideas as one gleans in childhood about the end of the world, +and this quite without any effort on their part, but just because she +had clothed herself to their eyes in such ideas. Bates, who had exact +opinions on all points of theology, tackled her upon what he termed "her +errors"; but, perhaps because he had little breath to give to the cause, +the other two inmates of the house could not learn that he had gained +any influence over her or any additional information as to her state of +mind. + +Bates himself was so incongruous an element in Principal Trenholme's +house that it became evident he could not be induced to remain there +long. Sufficiently intelligent to appreciate thoroughly any tokens of +ease or education, he was too proud not to resent them involuntarily as +implying inferiority on his own part. He had, to a certain degree, fine +perception of what good manners involved, but he was not sufficiently +simple to act without self-conscious awkwardness when he supposed any +deviation from his ordinary habits to be called for. Had he not been +miserable in mind and body he might have taken more kindly to carpets +and china; but as it was, he longed, as a homesick man for home, for +bare floors and the unceremoniousness that comes with tin mugs and a +scarcity of plates. + +For home as it existed for him--the desolate lake and hills, the +childish crone and rude hearth--for these he did not long. It was his +home, that place; for into it--into the splashing lake and lonely woods, +into the contour of the hills, and into the very logs of which the house +was built--he had put as much of himself as can be absorbed by outside +things; but just because to return there would be to return to his +mind's external habitat, he could not now take comfort in returning. All +the multiform solace it might have yielded him had been blasted by the +girl from the hotel, who had visited him in secret. Before he had seen +Sissy again his one constant longing had been to get done with necessary +business, financial and medical, and go back to his place, where sorrow +and he could dwell at peace together. He would still go, for he +cherished one of those nervous ideas common with sick men, that he could +breathe there and nowhere else; but he hated the place that was now rife +with memories far more unrestful and galling than memories of the dead +can ever be. + +He hugged to himself no flattering delusion; in his judgment Sissy had +shown herself heartless and cruel; but he did not therefore argue, as a +man of politer mind might have done, that the girl he had loved had +never existed, that he had loved an idea and, finding it had no +resemblance to the reality, he was justified in casting away both, and +turning to luxurious disappointment or to a search for some more worthy +recipient of the riches of his heart. No such train of reasoning +occurred to him. He had thought Sissy was good and unfortunate; he had +found her fortunate and guilty of an almost greater degree of +callousness than he could forgive; but, nevertheless, Sissy was the +person he loved--his little girl, whom he had brought up, his big girl, +in whom he centred all his hopes of happy home and of years of mature +affection. Sissy was still alive, and he could not endure to think of +her living on wholly separated from him. For this reason his mind had no +rest in the thought of remaining where he was, or of returning whence he +had come, or in the dream of seeking new places. He could think of no +satisfaction except that of being near to her and making her a better +girl; yet he had promised to have no dealings with her; and not only +that, but he now at length perceived the futility of all such care as he +might exercise over her. He had thought to shield her by his knowledge +of the world, and he had found that she, by natural common sense, had a +better knowledge of the world than he by experience; he had thought to +protect her by his strong arm, and he had found himself flung off, as +she might have flung a feeble thing that clung to her for protection. +She was better able to take care of herself in the world than he had +been to take care of her, and she did not want his tenderness. Yet he +loved her just as he had ever done, and perceived, in the deep well of +his heart's love and pity, that she did, in sooth, need something--a +tenderer heart it might be--need it more terribly than he had ever +fancied need till now. He longed unspeakably to give her this--this +crown of womanhood, which she lacked, and in the helplessness of this +longing his heart was pining. + +"A man isn't going to die because he has asthma," had been the doctor's +fiat concerning Bates. He had come to Chellaston apparently so ill that +neither he nor his friends would have been much surprised had death been +the order of the day, but as the programme was life, not death, he was +forced to plan accordingly. His plans were not elaborate; he would go +back to the clearing; he would take his aunt back from Turrifs to be +with him; he would live as he had lived before. + +Would he not sell the land? they asked; for the price offered for it was +good, and the lonely life seemed undesirable. + +No, he would not sell. It would, he said, be selling a bit of himself; +and if there was value in it, it would increase, not diminish, by +holding till the country was opened up. When he was dead, his heirs, be +they who they might (this he said mysteriously), could do as they would. +As for him, he would take a man back from this part of the country to +work in Alec's place. His cough, he said, had been worse since he had +been beguiled into leaving his wilderness to travel with Alec; the pure +air of the solitude would be better than doctors for him. + +The journey into which Alec had beguiled him had already had three +results: he had sold his lumber at a good price; had found out, by +talking with business men at Quebec, what the real value of his land +probably was, and would be; and had been put by Dr. Nash into a right +way of thinking concerning his disease and its treatment, that would +stand him in good stead for years to come; but none of these goodly +results did he mention when he summed up the evils and discomforts of +the trip in Alec's hearing. If his irascible talk was the index to his +mind, certainly any virtue Alec had exercised toward him would need to +be its own reward. + +He offered to pay Alec his wages up to the time of their arrival in +Chellaston, because he had looked after him in his feebleness, and he +talked of paying "The Principal" for his board during his sojourn there. +When they treated these offers lightly, he sulked, mightily offended. He +would have given his life, had it been necessary, for either of the +brothers, because of the succour they had lent him; nay more, had they +come to him in need a lifetime afterwards, when most men would have had +time to forget their benefaction many times over, John Bates would have +laid himself, and all that he had, at their disposal; but he was too +proud to say "thank you" for what they had done for him, or to confess +that he had never been so well treated in his life before. + +During his first days in Chellaston he was hardly able to leave his own +room; but all the time he talked constantly of leaving the place as soon +as he was well enough to do so; and the only reason that he did not +bring his will to bear upon his lagging health, and fix the day of +departure, was that he could not compel himself to leave the place where +Sissy was. He knew he must go, yet he could not. One more interview with +her he must have, one more at least before he left Chellaston. He could +not devise any way to bring this about without breaking his promise to +her, but his intention never faltered--see her he must, if only once, +and so the days passed, his mental agitation acting as a drag on the +wheels of his recovery. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +When Alec Trenholme had had the key of the Harmon house in his +possession some days, he went one evening, beguiled by the charm of the +weather and by curiosity, for the first time into the Harmon garden. He +wished to look over the rooms that were of some interest to him because +of one of their late inmates, and having procrastinated, he thought to +carry out his intention now, in the last hour before darkness came on, +in order to return the key that night. + +The path up to the house was lightly barred by the wild vine, that, +climbing on overgrown shrubs on either side, had more than once cast its +tendrils across. A trodden path there was in and out the bushes, +although not the straight original one, and by following it Alec gained +the open space before the house. Here self-sown magenta petunias made +banks of colour against the old brick walls, and the evening light, +just turning rosy, fell thereon. He could not see the river, although he +heard it flowing behind a further mass of bushes. He stood alone with +the old house in the opening that was enclosed by shrubs and trees so +full of leaf that they looked like giant heaps of leaves, and it seemed +to him that, if earth might have an enchanted place, he had surely +entered it. Then, remembering that the light would not last long, he +fitted the key to the door and went in. + +Outside, nature had done her work, but inside the ugly wall-paper and +turned bannisters of a modern villa had not been much beautified by dust +and neglect. Still, there is something in the atmosphere of a long +neglect that to the mind, if not to the eye, has softening effect. Alec +listened a moment, as it were, to the silence and loneliness of the +house, and went into the first dark room. + +It was a large room, probably a parlour of some pretension, but the only +light came through the door and lit it very faintly. All the windows of +the house were shut with wooden shutters, and Alec, not being aware +that, except in the rooms Harkness had occupied, the shutters were +nailed, went to a window to open it. He fumbled with the hasp, and, +concluding that he did not understand its working, went on into the next +room to see if the window there was to be more easily managed. In this +next room he was in almost total darkness. He had not reached the window +before he heard some one moving in an adjoining room. Turning, he saw a +door outlined by cracks of lamplight, and as it was apparent that some +one else was in the house, he made at once for this door. Before he had +reached it the cracks of light which guided him were gone; and when he +had opened it, the room on whose threshold he stood was dark and silent; +yet, whether by some slight sounds, or by some subtler sense for which +we have no name, he was convinced that there was some one in it. +Indignant at the extinction of the light and at the silence, he turned +energetically again in the direction of the window in order to wrench +it open, when, hearing a slight scratching sound, he looked back into +the inner room. There was light there again, but only a small vaporous +curl of light. Connecting this with the sound, he supposed that a poor +sulphur match had been struck; but this supposition perhaps came to him +later, for at the moment he was dazed by seeing in this small light the +same face he had seen over old Cameron's coffin. The sight he had had of +it then had almost faded from his memory; he had put it from him as a +thing improbable, and therefore imaginary; now it came before his eyes +distinctly. A man's face it certainly was not, and, in the fleet moment +in which he saw it now, he felt certain that it was a woman's. The +match, if it was a match, went out before its wood was well kindled, and +all he could see vanished from sight with its light. His only thought +was that whoever had escaped him before should not escape him again, and +he broke open the window shutters by main strength. + +The light poured in upon a set of empty rooms, faded and dusty. A glance +showed him an open door at the back of the farthest room, and rushing +through this, he opened the windows in that part of the house which had +evidently been lately inhabited. He next came into the hall by which he +had entered, and out again at the front door, with no doubt that he was +chasing some one, but he did not gain in the pursuit. He went down the +path to the road, looking up and down it; he came back, in and out among +the bushes, searching the cemetery and river bank, vexed beyond measure +all the time to perceive how easy it would be for any one to go one way +while he was searching in another, for the garden was large. + +He had good reason to feel that he was the victim of most annoying +circumstances, and he naturally could not at once perceive how it +behoved him to act in relation to this new scene in the almost forgotten +drama. Cameron was dead; the old preacher was dead; whether they were +one and the same or not, who was this person who now for the second +time suddenly started up in mysterious fashion after the death? Alec +assumed that it could be no one but Cameron's daughter, but when he +tried to think how it might be possible that she should be in the +deserted house, upon the track of the old preacher, as it were, his mind +failed even to conjecture. + +The explanation was comparatively simple, if he had known it, but he did +not know it. Someone has said that the man most assured of his own +truthfulness is not usually truthful; and in the same sense it is true +that the man most positive in trusting his own senses is not usually +reliable. Alec Trenholme flagged in his search; a most unpleasing doubt +came to him as to whether he had seen what he thought he saw and was not +now playing hide-and-seek with the rosy evening sunbeams among these +bushes, driven by a freak of diseased fancy. He was indeed provoked to a +degree almost beyond control, when, in a last effort of search through +the dense shrubbery, he skirted the fence of Captain Rexford's nearest +field, and there espied Sophia Rexford. + +Those people are happy who have found some person or thing on earth that +embodies their ideal of earthly solace. To some it is the strains of +music; to some it is the interior of church edifices; to the child it is +his mother; to the friend it is his friend. As soon as Alec Trenholme +saw this fair woman, whom he yet scarcely knew, all the fret of his +spirit found vent in the sudden desire to tell her what was vexing him, +very much as a child desires to tell its troubles and be comforted. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +That evening Mrs. Rexford and Sophia had been sitting sewing, as they +often did, under a tree near the house. Sophia had mused and stitched. +Then there came a time when her hands fell idle, and she looked off at +the scene before her. It was the hour when the sun has set, and the +light is not less than daylight but mellower. She observed with pleasure +how high the hops had grown that she had planted against the gables of +the house and dairies. On this side the house there was no yard, only +the big hay-fields from which the hay had been taken a month before; in +them were trees here and there, and beyond she saw the running river. +She had seen it all every day that summer, yet-- + +"I think I never saw the place look so nice," she said to her +step-mother. + +Dottie came walking unsteadily over the thick grass. She had found an +ox-daisy and a four-o'clock. + +"Here! take my pretties," she said imperiously. + +Sophia took them. + +"They's to be blowed," said Dottie, not yet distinguishing duly the +different uses of flowers or of words. + +Sophia obediently blew, and the down of the four-o'clock was scattered +into space; but the daisy, impervious to the blast, remained in the +slender hand that held it. Dottie looked at it with indignation. + +"Blow again!" was her mandate, and Sophia, to please her, plucked the +white petals one by one, so that they might be scattered. It was not +wonderful that, as she did so, the foolish old charm of her school-days +should say itself over in her mind, and the lot fell upon "He loves me." +"Who, I wonder?" thought Sophia, lightly fanciful; and she did not care +to think of the wealthy suitor she had cast aside. Her mind glanced to +Robert Trenholme. "No," she thought, "he loves me not." She meditated on +him a little. Such thoughts, however transient, in a woman of +twenty-eight, are different from the same thoughts when they come to her +at eighteen. If she be good, they are deeper, as the river is deeper +than the rivulet; better, as the poem of the poet is better than the +songs of his youth. Then for some reason--the mischief of idleness, +perhaps--Sophia thought of Trenholme's young brother--how he had looked +when he spoke to her over the fence. She rose to move away from such +silly thoughts. + +Dottie possessed herself of two fingers and pulled hard toward the +river. Dearly did she love the river-side, and mamma, who was very +cruel, would not allow her to go there without a grown-up companion. + +When she and her big sister reached the river they differed as to the +next step, Dottie desiring to go on into the water, and Sophia deeming +it expedient to go back over the field. As each was in an indolent mood, +they both gave way a little and split the difference by wandering along +the waterside, conversing softly about many things--as to how long it +would take the seed of the four-o'clock to "sail away, away, over the +river," and why a nice brown frog that they came across was not getting +ready for bed like the birdies. There is no such sweet distraction as an +excursion into Children's Land, and Sophia wandered quite away with this +talkative baby, until she found herself suddenly cast out of Dottie's +magic province as she stood beyond the trees that edged the first field +not far from the fence of the Harmon garden. And that which had broken +the spell was the appearance of Alec Trenholme. He came right up to her, +as if he had something of importance to say, but either shyness or a +difficulty in introducing his subject made him hesitate. Something in +his look caused her to ask lightly: + +"Have you seen a ghost?" + +"Yes." + +"Are you in earnest?" + +"I am in earnest, and," added he, somewhat dubiously, "I think I am in +my right mind." + +He did not say more just then, but looked up and down the road in his +search for someone. In a moment he turned to her, and a current of +amusement seemed to cross his mind and gleamed out of his blue eyes as +he lifted them to hers. "I believe when I saw you I came to you for +protection." + +The light from pink tracts of sunset fell brightly upon field and +river, but this couple did not notice it at all. + +"There is no bogie so fearful as the unknown," she cried. "You +frightened me, Mr. Trenholme." + +"There is no bogie in the case," he said, "nor ghost I suppose; but I +saw someone. I don't know how to tell you; it begins so far back, and I +may alarm you when I tell you that there must be someone in this +neighbourhood of yours who has no right to be here." Then to her eager +listening he told the story that he had once written to his brother, and +added to it the unlooked for experience of the last half-hour. His +relation lacked clearness of construction. Sophia had to make it lucid +by short quick questions here and there. + +"I'm no good," he concluded, deprecating his own recital. "Robert has +all the language that's in our family; but do you know, miss, what it is +to see a face, and know that you know it again, though you can't say +what it was like? Have you the least notion how you would feel on being +fooled a second time like that?" + +The word of address that he had let fall struck her ear as something +inexplicable which she had not then time to investigate; she was aware, +too, that, as he spoke fast and warmly, his voice dropped into some +vulgarity of accent that she had not noticed in it before. These +thoughts glanced through her mind, but found no room to stay, for there +are few things that can so absorb for the time a mind alive to its +surroundings as a bit of genuine romance, a fragment of a life, or +lives, that does not seem to bear explanation by the ordinary rules of +our experience. + +That mind is dulled, not ripened, by time that does not enter with zest +into a strange story, and the more if it is true. If we could only learn +it, the most trivial action of personality is more worthy of our +attention than the most magnificent of impersonal phenomena, and, in +healthy people, this truth, all unknown, probably underlies that +excitement of interest which the affairs of neighbours create the +moment they become in any way surprising. + +Sophia certainly did not stop to seek an excuse for her interest. She +plied Alec with questions; she moved with him nearer the Harmon fence to +get a better look at the house; she assured him that Chellaston was the +last place in the world to harbour an adventurer. + +He was a little loth, for the sake of all the pathos of Bates's story, +to suggest the suspicion that had recurred. + +"I saw the face twice. It was first at Turrifs Station, far enough away +from here; and I saw it again in this house. As sure as I'm alive, I +believe it was a woman." + +They stood on the verge of the field where the grass sloped back from +the river. Sophia held the little child's hand in hers. The dusk was +gathering, and still they talked on, she questioning and exclaiming with +animation, he eager to enter the house again, a mutual interest holding +their minds as one. + +He began to move again impatiently. He wanted a candle with which to +search the rooms more carefully, and if nothing was found, he said, he +would go to the village and make what inquiries he could; he would leave +no stone unturned. + +Sophia would not let him go alone. She was already on perfectly familiar +terms with him. He seemed to her a delightful mixture of the ardent boy +and the man who, as she understood it, was roughened by lumberman's +life. She lifted Dottie on her shoulder and turned homeward. "I will +only be a few minutes getting Harold and some candles; don't go without +us, I beg of you," she pleaded. + +He never thought of offering to carry the child, or call her brother for +her; his ideas of gallantry were submerged in the confusion of his +thoughts. He watched her tripping lightly with the child on her +shoulder. He saw her choose a path by the back of the white dairy +buildings, and then he heard her clear voice calling, "Harold! Harold!" +All up the yard's length to windows of house and stable he heard her +calling, till at length came the answering shout. In the silence that +followed he remembered, with a feeling of wonder, the shudder of +distaste that had come over him when he found that the other creature +with whom he had been dealing bore a woman's form. He could not endure +to think of her in the same moment in which he longed to hear Miss +Rexford's voice again and to see her come back. In the one case he could +not believe that evil was not the foundation of such eccentricity of +mystery; in the other he thought nothing, realised nothing, he only +longed for Sophia's return, as at times one longs for cool air upon the +temples, for balm of nature's distilling. He never thought that because +Sophia was a woman she would be sure to keep him waiting and forget the +candle. He felt satisfied she would do just what she said, and even to +his impatience the minutes did not seem long before he saw her return +round the same corner of the outbuildings, her brother beside her, +lantern in hand. + +So in the waning daylight the three went together to the Harmon house, +and found torn bits of letters scattered on floor and window-sill near +the spot where Alec had last seen the unlooked-for apparition. The +letters, to all appearance, had belonged to the dentist, but they were +torn very small. The three searched the house all through by the light +of more than one candle, and came out again into the darkness of the +summer night, for the time nothing wiser concerning the mystery, but +feeling entirely at home with one another. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Although Mrs. Rexford had been without an indoor servant for several +months of the winter, she had been fortunate enough to secure one for +the summer. Her dairy had not yet reached the point of producing +marketable wares, but it supplied the family and farm hands with milk +and butter, and, since the cows had been bought in spring, the one +serving girl had accomplished this amount of dairy work satisfactorily. +The day after Sophia and Harold had made their evening excursion through +the Harmon house, this maid by reason of some ailment was laid up, and +the cows became for the first time a difficulty to the household, for +the art of milking was not to be learnt in an hour, and it had not yet +been acquired by any member of the Rexford family. + +Harold was of course in the fields. Sophia went to the village to see if +she could induce anyone to come to their aid; but, hard as it was to +obtain service at any time, in the weeks of harvest it was an +impossibility. When she returned, she went in by the lane, the yard, and +the kitchen door. All the family had fallen into the habit of using this +door more than any other. Such habits speak for themselves. + +"Mamma!"--she took off her gloves energetically as she spoke--"there is +nothing for it but to ask Louise to get up and do the milking--the mere +milking--and I will carry the pails." + +Louise was the pale-faced Canadian servant. She often told them she +preferred to be called "Loulou," but in this she was not indulged. + +Mrs. Rexford stirred Dottie's porridge in a small saucepan. Said she, +"When Gertrude Bennett is forced to milk her cows, she waits till after +dark; her mother told me so in confidence. Yes, child, yes"--this was to +Dottie who, beginning to whimper, put an end to the conversation. + +Sophia did not wait till after dark: it might be an excellent way for +Miss Bennett, but it was not her way. Neither did she ask her younger +sisters to help her, for she knew that if caught in the act by any +acquaintance the girls were at an age to feel an acute distress. She +succeeded, by the administration of tea and tonic, in coaxing the +servant to perform her part. Having slightly caught up her skirts and +taken the empty pails on her arms, Sophia started ahead down the lane. + +Just then some one turned in from the road. It was Eliza, and she was +in too much haste to take heed of the milking gear. + +"Oh, Miss Sophia. I'm so glad I've met you, and alone. We've been so +busy at the hotel with a cheap excursion, I've been trying all day to +get a word to you. Look here!" (she thrust some crumpled letters into +Sophia's hand) "I thought you'd better see those, and say something to +the girls. They'll get themselves into trouble if they go on as silly as +this. It seems it's some silly 'post office' they've had in a tree +between them and that Harkness. I've had that letter from him, and +certainly, Miss Sophia, if he's as much to blame as them, he's acted +civil enough now. He had a better heart than most men, I believe, for +all he bragged about it. He forgot where he had thrown their letters as +waste paper, and you'll see by that letter of his he took some trouble +to write to me to go and get them, for fear they should be found and the +girls talked about." + +Sophia stood still in dismay. + +"There!" said Eliza, "I knew you'd feel hurt, but I thought you'd better +know for all that. There's no harm done, only they'd better have a good +setting down about it." She began to turn back again. "I must go," she +said, "the dining-room girls are rushed off their feet; but if I were +you, Miss Sophia, I wouldn't say a word to anyone else about it. Some +one came in while I was getting these letters, but it was dark and I +dodged round and made off without being seen, so that I needn't explain. +It wouldn't do for the girls, you know--" + +Sophia turned the letters about in her hand. One was from Cyril Harkness +to Eliza; the others were poor, foolish little notes, written by Blue +and Red. Louise came out of the yard and passed them into the field, and +Sophia thrust the letters into her dress. + +That Eliza should naively give her advice concerning the training of her +sisters was a circumstance so in keeping with the girl's force of +character that her late mistress hardly gave it a thought, nor had she +time at that moment to wonder where the letters had been left and found. +It was the thought that the family reputation for sense and sobriety had +apparently been in the hands of an unprincipled stranger, and had been +preserved only by his easy good-nature and by Eliza's energy, that +struck her with depressing and irritating force. Had the girls come in +her way just then, the words she would have addressed to them would have +been more trenchant than wise, but as Eliza was by her side, retreating +towards the road, she felt no desire to discuss the matter with her. + +She observed now that Eliza looked worn and miserable as she had never +seen her look before, unless, indeed, it had been in the first few days +she ever saw her. The crowded state of the hotel could hardly account +for this. "I hope, Eliza, that having despised that suitor of yours when +he was here, you are not repenting now he is gone." + +The girl looked at her dully, not understanding at first. + +"Speaking of Cyril Harkness?" she cried; "good gracious, no, Miss +Sophia." But the response was not given in a sprightly manner, and did +not convey any conviction of its truth. + +"You must be working too hard." + +"Well, I needn't. I'll tell you a bit of good fortune that's come to me. +Mrs. Glass--one of our boarders--you know her?" + +"The stout person that comes to church in red satin?" + +"Yes; and she's rich too. Well, she's asked me to go and visit her in +Montreal in the slack time this next winter; and she's such a good +boarder every summer, you know, Mr. Hutchins is quite set on me going. +She's promised to take me to parties and concerts, and the big rink, and +what not. Ah, Miss Sophia, you never thought I could come that sort of +thing so soon, did you?" + +"And are you not going?" + +Sophia's question arose from a certain ring of mockery in Eliza's +relation of her triumph. + +"No, I'm not going a step. D'you think I'm going to be beholden to her, +vulgar old thing! And besides, she talks about getting me married. I +think there's nothing so miserable in the world as to be married." + +"Most women are much happier married." Sophia said this with orthodox +propriety, although she did not altogether believe it. + +"Yes, when they can't fend for themselves, poor things. But to be for +ever tied to a house and a man, never to do just what one liked! I'm +going to take pattern by you, Miss Sophia, and not get married." + +Eliza went back to the village, and Sophia turned toward the pasture and +the college. The first breath of autumn wind was sweeping down the road +to meet her. All about the first sparks of the great autumnal fire of +colour were kindling. In the nearer wood she noticed stray boughs of +yellow or pink foliage displayed hanging over the dark tops of young +spruce trees, or waving against the blue of the unclouded sky. It was an +air to make the heavy heart jocund in spite of itself, and the sweet +influences of this blithe evening in the pasture field were not lost +upon Sophia, although she had not the spirit now to wish mischievously, +as before, that Mrs. and Miss Bennett, or some of their friends, would +pass to see her carry the milk in daylight. It was a happy pride that +had been at the root of her defiance of public opinion, and her pride +was depressed now, smarting under the sharp renewal of the conviction +that her sisters were naughty and silly, and that their present training +was largely to blame. + +The Bennetts did not come by, neither did Mrs. Brown's carriage pass, +nor a brake from the hotel. Sophia had carried home the milk of two cows +and returned before anyone of the slightest consequence passed by. She +was just starting with two more pails when Alec Trenholme came along at +a fast trot on his brother's handsome cob. He was close by her before +she had time to see who it was, and when he drew up his horse she felt +strangely annoyed. Instinct told her that, while others might have +criticised, this simple-hearted fellow would only compassionate her +toil. Their mutual adventure of the previous evening had so far +established a sense of comradeship with him that she did not take refuge +in indifference, but felt her vanity hurt at his pity. + +At that moment the simple iron semi-circle which the milk maid used to +hold her pails off her skirts, became, with Sophia's handling, the most +complex thing, and would in no wise adjust itself. Alec jumped from his +horse, hung his bridle-rein over the gate-post as he entered the +pasture, and made as if to take the pails as a matter of course. + +Pride, vanity, conceit, whatever it may be that makes people dislike +kindness when their need is obvious, produced in her an awkward gaiety. +"Nay," said she, refusing; "why should you carry my milk for me?" + +"Well, for one thing, we live too near not to know you don't do it +usually." + +"Still, it may be my special pleasure to carry it to-night; and if not, +why should you help me with this any more than, for instance, in cooking +the dinner to-morrow? I assure you my present pastoral occupation is +much more romantic and picturesque than that." + +But he took the half-filled pails (she had not attempted to carry full +ones), and, pouring the contents of one into the other, proceeded to +carry it. + +"Since it is you who command," she cried, "shall I hold your horse in +the meantime?" + +With provoking literalism he gave a critical glance at the bridle. "He's +all right," he said, not caring much, in truth, whether the cob broke +loose or not. + +So she followed him across the road into the lane, because it hardly +seemed civil to let him go alone, and because he would not know what to +do with the milk when he got to the yard. She did not, however, like +this position. + +"Do you know," she began again, "that I am very angry with you, Mr. +Trenholme?" + +He wished for several reasons that she would cease her banter, and he +had another subject to advance, which he now brought forward abruptly. +"I don't know, Miss Rexford, what right I have to think you will take +any interest in what interests me, but, after what happened last night, +I can't help telling you that I've got to the bottom of that puzzle, and +I'm afraid it will prove a very serious matter for my poor friend +Bates." + +"What is it?" she cried, his latest audacity forgotten. + +"Just now, as I came out of the village, I met the person I saw in the +Harmon house, and the same I saw before, the time I told you of. It was +a woman--a young woman dressed in silk. I don't know what she may be +doing here, but I know now _who_ she must be. She must be Sissy Cameron. +No other girl could have been at Turrifs Station the night I saw her +there. She _is_ Sissy Cameron." (His voice grew fiercer.) "She must have +turned her father's hearse into a vehicle for her own tricks; and what's +more, she must, with the most deliberate cruelty, have kept the +knowledge of her safety from poor Bates all these months." + +"Stay, stay!" cried Sophia, for his voice had grown so full of anger +against the girl that he could hardly pour out the tale of her guilt +fast enough. "Where did you meet her? What was she like?" + +"I met her ten minutes ago, walking on this road. She was a great big +buxom girl, with a white face and red hair; perhaps people might call +her handsome. I pulled up and stared at her, but she went on as if she +didn't see me. Now I'm going in to tell Bates, and then I shall go back +and bring her to book. I don't know what she may be up to in Chellaston, +but she must be found." + +"Many people do think her handsome, Mr. Trenholme," said Sophia, for she +knew now who it was; "and she is certainly not--the sort of--" + +"Do you mean to say you know her?" + +"Yes, I know her quite well. I had something to do with bringing her to +Chellaston. I never knew till this moment that she was the girl you and +Mr. Bates have been seeking, and indeed--" She stopped, confused, for, +although it had flashed on her for the first time that what she knew of +Eliza's history tallied with his story, she could not make it all match, +and then she perceived that no doubt it was in the Harmon house that +Eliza had so faithfully sought the letters now held in her own hand. +"Really," she continued, "you mustn't go to work with this girl in the +summary manner you suggest. I know her too well to think anything could +be gained by that. She is, in a sense, a friend of mine." + +"Don't say she is a _friend_ of yours--_don't!_" he said, with almost +disgust in his tone. + +They had halted in the lane just outside the yard gate, and now he put +down the pail and turned his back on the still shut gate to speak with +more freedom. As he talked, the brisk air dashed about the boughs of the +spindling lilac hedge, shaking slant sunbeams upon the unpainted gate +and upon the young man and woman in front of it. + +Then, but in a way that was graphic because of strong feeling, Alec +Trenholme told the more real part of the story which he had outlined the +night before; told of the melancholy solitude in which Bates had been +left with the helpless old woman in a house that was bewitched in the +eyes of all, so that no servant or labourer would come near it. In talk +that was a loose mosaic of detail and generalisation, he told of the +woman's work to which the proud Scotchman had been reduced in care of +the aunt who in his infancy had cared for him, and how he strove to keep +the house tidy for her because she fretted when she saw housework +ill-done. He explained that Bates would have been reduced to hard +straits for want of the yearly income from his lumber had not he himself +"chanced" to go and help him. He said that Bates had gone through all +this without complaint, without even counting it hard, because of the +grief he counted so much worse--the loss of the girl, and the belief +that she had perished because of his unkindness. + +"For he _loved_ her, Miss Rexford. He had never had anyone else to care +for, and he had just centred his whole heart on her. He cared for her as +if she had been his daughter and sister, and--and he cared for her in +another way that was more than all. It was a lonely enough place; no one +could blame a woman for wanting to leave it; but to leave a man to think +her dead when he loved her!" + +Sophia was touched by the story and touched nearly also by the heart of +the man who told it, for in such telling the hearts of speaker and +listener beat against one another through finer medium than that which +we call space. But just because she was touched it was characteristic in +her to find a point that she could assail. + +"I don't see that a woman is specially beholden to a man because he +loves her against her will." + +"Do you mean to say"--fiercely--"that she was not beholden to him +because he taught her everything she knew, and was willing to work to +support her?" + +"Yes, certainly, she was under obligation for all his kindness, but his +being in love with her--that is different." + +But Alec Trenholme, like many people, could not see a fine point in the +heat of discussion. Afterwards, on reflection he saw what she had meant, +but now he only acted in the most unreasonable of ways. + +"Well, I don't see it as you do," he said; and then, the picture of +suppressed indignation, he took up the pail to go inside and dispose of +it. + +"I don't know how it can all be," said Sophia considering, "but I'm sure +there's a great deal of good in her." + +At this, further silence, even out of deference to her, seemed to him +inadequate. "I don't pretend to know how it can be; how she got here, or +what she has been doing here, dressed in silk finery, or what she may +have been masquerading with matches in the old house over there for. All +I know is, a girl who treated Bates as she did--" + +"No, you don't know any of these things. You have only heard one side +of the story. It is not fair to judge." + +"She has ruined his life, done as good as killed him. Why should you +take her part?" + +"Because there are always two sides to everything. I don't know much of +her story, but I have heard some of it, and it didn't sound like what +you have said. As to her being in the Harmon house--" Sophia stopped. + +"Do you mean to say," asked Alec, "that she has been living here all the +time quite openly?" + +"Yes--that is, she has given a false name, it seems, but, Mr. +Trenholme--" + +"If she has lied about her name, depend upon it she has lied about +everything else. I wouldn't want you to go within ten feet of her." + +Although the fallacy of such argument as Alec's too often remains +undetected when no stubborn fact arises to support justice, Sophia, with +her knowledge of Eliza, could not fail to see the absurdity of it. Her +mind was dismayed at the thought of what the girl had apparently done +and concealed, but nothing could make her doubt that the Eliza she knew +was different from the Sissy Cameron he was depicting. She did not +doubt, either, that if anything would bring out all the worst in her and +make her a thousand times more unkind to Bates, it would be the attack +Alec Trenholme meditated. She decided that she ought herself to act as +go-between. She remembered the scorn with which the patronage of a +vulgar woman had that evening been discarded, and whether Eliza herself +knew it or not, Sophia knew that this nicety of taste was due chiefly to +her own influence. The subtle flattery of this pleaded with her now on +the girl's behalf: and perceiving that Alec Trenholme was not amenable +to reason, she, like a good woman, condescended to coax him for reason's +sake. To a woman the art of managing men is much like the art of skating +or swimming, however long it may lie in disuse, the trick, once learnt, +is there to command. The milk, it seemed, must be taken down the cellar +steps and poured into pans. Then a draught of milk off the ice was given +to him. Then, it appeared, she must return to the pasture, and on their +way she pointed out the flowers that she had planted, and let him break +one that he admired. + +When they reached the field Sophia proffered her request, which was, +that he would leave his discovery in her hands for one day, for one day +only, she pleaded. She added that he might come to see her the next +afternoon, and she would tell him what explanation Eliza had to give, +and in what mood she would meet her unfortunate guardian. + +And Sophia's request was granted, granted with that whole-hearted +allegiance and entire docility, with a tenderness of eye and +lightsomeness of demeanour, that made her perceive that this young man +had not been so obdurate as he appeared, and that her efforts to appease +him had been out of proportion to what was required. + +When he mounted his horse and rode off unmindful of the last pail of +milk, for indeed his head was a little turned, Sophia was left standing +by the pasture gate feeling unpleasantly conscious of her own handsome +face and accomplished manner. If she felt amused that he should show +himself so susceptible, she also felt ashamed, she hardly knew why. She +remembered that in his eyes on a previous occasion which she had taken +as a signal for alarm on her part, and wondered why she had not +remembered it sooner. The thing was done now: she had petted and cajoled +him, and she felt no doubt that masculine conceit would render him blind +to her true motive. Henceforth he would suppose that she encouraged his +fancy. Sophia, who liked to have all things her own way, felt +disconcerted. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +After tea Sophia took Blue and Red apart into their little bedroom. An +old cotton blind was pulled down to shield the low window from passers +in the yard. The pane was open and the blind flapped. The room had +little ornament and was unattractive. + +"How could you write letters to that Mr. Harkness?" asked Sophia, trying +to be patient. + +"We didn't--exactly," said Blue, "but how did you know?" + +"At least--we did," said Red, "but only notes. What have you heard, +Sister Sophia? Has he"--anxiously--"written to papa?" + +"Written to papa!" repeated Sophia in scorn. "What should he do that +for?" + +"I don't know," said Red, more dejected. "It's"--a little pause--"it's +the sort of thing they do." + +Sophia drew in her breath with an effort not to laugh, and managed to +sigh instead. "I think you are the silliest girls of your age!" + +"Well, I don't care," cried Blue, falling from bashfulness into a pout, +and from a pout into tears. "I _don't_ care, so now. I think he was much +nicer--much nicer than--" She sat upon a chair and kicked her little +toes upon the ground. Red's dimpled face was flushing with ominous +colour about the eyes. + +"Really!" cried Sophia, and then she stopped, arrested by her own word. +How was it possible to present reality to eyes that looked out through +such maze of ignorance and folly; it seemed easier to take up a sterner +theme and comment upon the wickedness of disobedience and secrecy. Yet +all the time her words missed the mark, because the true sin of these +two pretty criminals was utter folly. Surely if the world, and their +fragment of it, had been what they thought--the youth a hero, and their +parents wrongly proud--their action had not been so wholly evil! But how +could she trim all the thoughts of their silly heads into true +proportion? + +"I shall have to tell papa, you know; I couldn't take the responsibility +of not telling him; but I won't speak till this press of work is over, +because he is so tired, so you can be thinking how you will apologise to +him." + +Both Blue and Red were weeping now, and Sophia, feeling that she had +made adequate impression, was glad to pause. + +Red was the first to withdraw her handkerchief from dewy eyes. Her tone +and attitude seemed penitent, and Sophia looked at her encouragingly. + +"Sister Sophia"--meekly--"does he say in his letter where he is, +or--or"--the voice trembled--"if he's ever coming back?" + +For such disconsolate affection Sophia felt that the letter referred to +was perhaps the best medicine. "I will read you all that he says." And +she read it slowly and distinctly, as one reads a lesson to children. + + "Dear Eliza." + +"He didn't think she was 'dear'" pouted Blue. "He told us she was 'real +horrid.'" + +Sophia read on from the crumpled sheet with merciless distinctness. + + "Come to think of it, when I was coming off I threw all my + bills and letters and things down in a heap in the back kitchen at + Harmon's; and there were some letters there that those 'cute little + Rexford girls wrote to me. They were real spoony on me, but I wasn't + spoony on them one bit, Eliza, at least, not in my heart, which having + been given to you, remained yours intact; but I sort of feel a qualm + to think how their respected pa would jaw them if those _billets-doux_ + were found and handed over. You can get in at the kitchen window + quite easy by slipping the bolt with a knife; so as I know you have + a hankering after the Rexfords, I give you this chance to crib those + letters if you like. They are folded small because they had to be + put in a nick in a tree, called by those amiable young ladies, a + post-office." + + "I'm real sorry I made you cry, Eliza. It's as well I didn't remain or I + might have begun admiring of you again, which might have ended in + breaking my vow to be--Only your ex-admirer, + CYRIL, P. H----." + +"Oh!" cried Blue, her tears dried by the fire of injury, "we never +talked to him except when he talked to us--never!" + +"There's a postscript," said Sophia, and then she read it. + + "P.S. They used to cock their eyes at me when they saw me over + the fence. You had better tell them not to do it; I could not bear to + think of them doing it to anyone else." + +"Oh!" cried Red, "Oh--h! he never said to us that we cocked our eyes. He +said once to Blue that the way she curled her eyelashes at him was +_real_ captivating." + +Sophia rose delivering her final word: "Nothing could be more utterly +vulgar than to flirt with a young man who is beneath you in station just +because he happens to be thrown in your way." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +When Sophia went to the hotel next morning, Eliza was not to be found. +She was not in, and no one knew where she was. Mr. Hutchins was inclined +to grumble at her absence as an act of high-handed liberty, but Miss +Rexford was not interested in his comments. She went back to her work at +home, and felt in dread of the visit which she had arranged for Alec +Trenholme to make that day. She began to be afraid that, having no +information of importance with which to absorb his attention, he might +to some extent make a fool of himself. Having seen incipient signs of +this state of things, she took for granted it would grow. + +When the expected caller did come, Sophia, because the servant could +still do but little, was at work in the dairy, and she sent one of the +children to ask him to come into the yard. The dairy was a pleasant +place; it was a long low stone room, with two doors opening on the green +yard. The roof of it was shaded by a tree planted for that purpose, and +not many feet from its end wall the cool blue river ran. A queen could +not have had a sweeter place for an audience chamber, albeit there was +need of paint and repairs, and the wooden doorstep was almost worn away. + +Sophia, churn-handle in hand, greeted her visitor without apology. She +had expected that this churn-handle, the evidence of work to be done, +would act as a check upon feeling, but she saw with little more than a +glance that such check was superfluous; there was no sign of +intoxication from the wine of graciousness which she had held to his +lips when last she saw him. As he talked to her he stood on the short +white clover outside the door's decaying lintel. He had a good deal to +say about Bates, and more about Sissy Cameron, and Sophia found that she +had a good deal to say in answer. + +The churn was a hideous American patent, but light and very convenient. +They talked to the monotonous splash of the milk within, and as work was +not being interrupted, Alec was at length asked to sit down on the worn +doorstep, and he remained there until the butter "came." He had gone up +in Sophia's esteem many degrees, because she saw now that any escape of +warmer sentiment had been involuntary on his part. She blessed him in +her heart for being at once so susceptible and so strong. She fancied +that there was a shade of sadness in his coolness which lent it +attraction. With that shadow of the epicurean which is apt to be found +upon all civilised hearts, she felt that it did her good to realise how +nice he was, just as a fresh flower or a strong wind would have done her +good. She said to him that she supposed he would not be staying much +longer in Chellaston, and he replied that as soon as Bates would go and +his brother was on his feet again he intended to leave for the West. +Then he begged her to lose no time in seeing Eliza, for Bates had taken +to hobbling about the roads, and he thought a sudden and accidental +meeting with the girl might be the death of him. + +Now this assertion of Alec's, that Bates had taken to walking out of +doors, was based on the fact told him by Mrs. Martha and his brother, +that the day before Bates had wilfully walked forth, and after some +hours came back much exhausted. "Where did you go?" Alec had asked him +fiercely, almost suspecting, from his abject looks, that he had seen the +girl. He could, however, learn nothing but that the invalid had walked +"down the road and rested a while and come back." Nothing important had +happened, Alec thought; and yet this conclusion was not true. + +That which had happened had been this. John Bates, after lying for a +week trying to devise some cunning plan for seeing Sissy without +compromising her, and having failed in this, rose up in the sudden +energy of a climax of impatience, and, by dint of short stages and many +rests by the roadside, found his way through the town, up the steps of +the hotel, and into its bar-room. No one could hinder him from going +there, thought he, and perchance he might see the lassie. + +Years of solitude, his great trouble, and, lastly, the complaint which +rendered him so obviously feeble, had engendered in his heart a shyness +that made it terrible to him to go alone across the hotel verandah, +where men and women were idling. In truth, though he was obviously ill, +the people noticed him much less than he supposed, for strangers often +came there; but egotism is a knife which shyness uses to wound itself +with. When he got into the shaded and comparatively empty bar-room, he +would have felt more at home, had it not been for the disconsolate +belief that there was one at home in that house to whom his presence +would be terribly unwelcome. It was with a nightmare of pain and +desolation on his heart that he laid trembling arms upon the bar, and +began to chat with the landlord. + +"I'm on the look-out for a young man and a young woman," said he, +"who'll come and work on my clearing;" and so he opened talk with the +hotel-keeper. He looked often through the door into the big passage, but +Sissy did not pass. + +Now Mr. Hutchins did not know of anyone to suit Bates's requirements, +and he did know that the neighbourhood of Chellaston was the most +unlikely to produce such servants, but, having that which was +disappointing to say, he said it by degrees. Bates ordered a glass of +cooling summer drink, and had his pipe filled while they discussed. The +one tasted to him like gall, and the fumes of the other were powerless +to allay his growing trepidation, and yet, in desperate adventure, he +stayed on. + +Hutchins, soon perceiving that he was a man of some education, and +finding out that he was the oft-talked-of guest of "The Principal," +continued to entertain him cheerfully enough. "Now," said he, "talking +of people to help, I've got a girl in my house now--well, I may say I +fell on my feet when I got her." Then followed a history of his dealings +with Eliza, including an account of his own astuteness in perceiving +what she was, and his cleverness in securing her services. Bates +listened hungrily, but with a pang in his heart. + +"Aye," said he outwardly, "you'll be keeping a very quiet house here." + +"You may almost call it a religious house," said Hutchins, taking the +measure of his man. "Family prayer every Sunday in the dining-room for +all who likes. Yes," he added, rubbing his hand on his lame knee, +"Canadians are pious for the most part, Mr. Bates, and I have the illeet +of two cities on _my_ balconies." + +Other men came in and went out of the room. Women in summer gowns passed +the door. Still Bates and Hutchins talked. + +At last, because Bates waited long enough, Eliza passed the door, and +catching sight of him, she turned, suddenly staring as if she knew not +exactly what she was doing. There were two men at the bar drinking. +Hutchins, from his high swivel chair, was waiting upon them. They both +looked at Eliza; and now Bates, trembling in every nerve, felt only a +weak fear lest she should turn upon him in wrath for being unfaithful, +and summoned all his strength to show her that by the promise with which +he had bound himself he would abide. He looked at her as though in very +truth he had never seen her before. And the girl took his stony look as +if he had struck her, and fell away from the door, so that they saw her +no longer. + +"Looked as if she'd seen someone she knew in here," remarked Hutchins, +complacently. He was always pleased when people noticed Eliza, for he +considered her a credit to the house. + +The others made no remark, and Bates felt absurdly glad that he had seen +her, not that it advanced his desire, but yet he was glad; and he had +shown her, too, that she need not fear him. + +And Eliza--she went on past the door to the verandah, and stood in sight +of the boarders, who were there, in sight of the open street; but she +did not see anyone or anything. She was too common a figure at that door +to be much noticed, but if anyone had observed her it would have been +seen that she was standing stolidly, not taking part in what was before +her, but that her white face, which never coloured prettily like other +women's, bore now a deepening tint, as if some pale torturing flame were +lapping about her; there was something on her face that suggested the +quivering of flames. + +In a few minutes she went back into the bar-room. + +"Mr. Hutchins," she said, and here followed a request, that was almost a +command, that he should attend to something needing his oversight in the +stable-yard. + +Hutchins grumbled, apologised to Bates; but Eliza stood still, and he +went. She continued to stand, and her attitude, her forbidding air, the +whole atmosphere of her presence, was such that the two men who were on +the eve of departure went some minutes before they otherwise would have +done, though perhaps they hardly knew why they went. + +"Mr. Bates! You're awfully angry with me, Mr. Bates, I'm afraid." + +He got up out of his chair, in his petty vanity trying to stand before +her as if he were a strong man. "Angry!" he echoed, for he did not know +what he said. + +"Yes, you're angry; I know by the way you looked at me," she complained +sullenly. "You think I'm not fit to look at, or to speak to, and--" + +They stood together in the common bar-room. Except for the gay array of +bottles behind the bar the place was perfectly bare, and it was open on +all sides. She did not look out of door or windows to see who might be +staring at them, but he did. He had it so fixed in his faithful heart +that he must not compromise her, that he was in a tremor lest she should +betray herself. He leaned on the back of his chair, breathing hard, and +striving to appear easy. + +"No, but I'm thinking, Sissy--" + +"You're dreadfully ill, Mr. Bates, I'm afraid." + +"No, but I was thinking, Sissy, I must see ye again before I go. I've +that to say to ye that must be said before I go home." + +"Home!" She repeated the word like the word of a familiar language she +had not heard for long. "Are you going home?" + +"Where will ye see me?" he urged. + +"Anywhere you like," she said listlessly, and then added with sudden +determination, "I'll come." + +"Hoots!" he said, "_where_ will ye come?" + +"Where?" she said, looking at him keenly as if to gauge his strength or +weakness. "You're not fit to be much on your feet." + +"Can you come in the bush at the back of the college? It would be +little harm for you to speak to me there. When can ye come?" + +"To-morrow morning." + +"How can ye come of a morning? Your time's not your own." + +"I say I'll come." She enunciated the words emphatically as Hutchins's +crutches were heard coming near the door. Then she left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +The wood behind the college grounds and Captain Rexford's pasture had +appeared to Bates to be a place possessed only by the winds of heaven +and by such sunshine and shadow as might fall to its share. He had +formed this estimate of it while he had lain for many days watching the +waving of its boughs from out his window, and therefore he had named it +to Eliza as a place where he could talk to her. Eliza well knew that +this wood was no secluded spot in the season of summer visitors, but she +was in too reckless a mood to care for this, any more than she cared for +the fact that she had no right to leave the hotel in the morning. She +left that busy house, not caring whether it suffered in her absence or +not, and went to the appointed place, heedless of the knowledge that she +was as likely as not to meet with some of her acquaintances there. Yet, +as she walked, no one seeing her would have thought that this young +woman had a heart rendered miserable by her own acts and their +legitimate outcome. In her large comeliness she suggested less of +feeling than of force, just as the gown she wore had more pretension to +fashion than to grace. + +When she entered the wood it was yet early morning. Bates was not there. +She had come thus early because she feared hindrance to her coming, not +because she cared when he came. She went into the young spruce fringes +of the wood near the Rexford pasture, and sat down where she had before +sat to watch Principal Trenholme's house. The leaves of the elm above +her were turning yellow; the sun-laden wind that came between the spruce +shades seemed chill to her; she felt cold, an unusual thing for her, and +the time seemed terribly long. When she saw Bates coming she went to the +more frequented aisles of the trees to meet him. + +Bates had never been a tall man, but now, thin and weak, he seemed a +small one, although he still strove to hold himself up manfully. His +face this day was grey with the weariness of a sleepless night, and his +enemy, asthma, was hard upon him--a man's asthma, that is a fierce thing +because it is not yielded to gracefully, but is struggled against. + +"Oh, but you're ill, Mr. Bates," she said, relapsing into that repeated +expression of yesterday. + +"I'm no so ill as I--I seem," he panted, "but that's neither here--nor +there." + +This was their greeting. Round them the grass was littered by old picnic +papers, and this vulgar marring of the woodland glade was curiously akin +to the character of this crucial interview between them, for the beauty +of its inner import was overlaid with much that was common and garish. A +rude bench had been knocked together by some picnicker of the past, and +on this Bates was fain to sit down to regain his breath. Sissy stood +near him, plucking at some coloured leaves she had picked up in her +restlessness. + +"You think of going back to the old place," she said, because he could +not speak. + +"Aye." + +"Miss Bates is keeping pretty well?"--this in conventional tone that was +oddly mortised into the passionate working of her mind. + +"Oh, aye." + +"Why wouldn't you sell it and live in a town?" + +"It's the only air there I can be breathing," said he; the confession +was wrung from him by his present struggle for breath. "I'm not fit for +a town." + +"I hear them saying down at the hotel that you're awfully ill." + +"It's not mortal, the doctor says." + +"You'll need someone to take care of you, Mr. Bates." + +"Oh, I'll get that." + +He spoke as if setting aside the subject of his welfare with impatience, +and she let it drop; but because he was yet too breathless to speak his +mind, she began again: + +"I don't mind if you don't sell, for I don't want to get any money." + +"Oh, but ye can sell when I'm gone; it'll be worth more then than now. +I'm just keeping a place I can breathe in, ye understand, as long as I +go on breathing." + +She pulled the leaves in her hand, tearing them lengthwise and +crosswise. + +"What I want--to ask of ye now is--what I want to ask ye first is a +solemn question. Do ye know where your father's corpse--is laid?" + +"Yes, I know," she said. "He didn't care anything about cemeteries, +father didn't." + +He looked at her keenly, and there was a certain stern setting of his +strong lower jaw. His words were quick: "Tell on." + +"'Twas you that made me do it," said she, sullenly. + +"Do what? What did ye do?" + +"I buried my father." + +"Did ye set Saul to do it?" + +"No; what should I have to do asking a man like Saul?" + +"Lassie, lassie! it's no for me to condemn ye, nor maybe for the dead +either, for he was whiles a hard father to you, but I wonder your own +woman's heart didn't misgive ye." + +Perhaps, for all he knew, it had misgiven her often, but she did not say +so now. + +"In the clearin's all round Turrifs they buried on their own lands," +she said, still sullen. + +"Ye buried him on his own land!" he exclaimed, the wonder of it growing +upon him. "When? Where? Out with it! Make a clean breast of it." + +"I buried him that night. The coffin slipped easy enough out of the +window and on the dry leaves when I dragged it. I laid him between the +rocks at the side, just under where the bank was going to fall, and then +I went up and pushed the bank down upon him." She looked up and cried +defiantly: "Father'd as soon lie there as in a cemetery!" Although it +was as if she was crushing beneath her heel that worship of +conventionality which had made Bates try to send the body so far to a +better grave, there was still in her last words a tone of pathos which +surprised even herself. Something in the softening influences which had +been about her since that crisis of her young life made her feel more +ruth at the recital of the deed than she had felt at its doing. "I made +a bed of moss and leaves," she said, "and I shut up the ledge he lay in +with bits of rock, so that naught could touch him." + +"But--but I dug there," cried Bates. (In his surprise the nervous +affection of his breath had largely left him.) "I dug where the bank had +fallen; for I had strange thoughts o' what ye might have been driven to +when I was long alone, and I dug, but his body wasna' there." + +It was curious that, even after her confession, he should feel need to +excuse himself for his suspicion. + +"There was a sort of cleft sideways in the rock at the side of the +stream; you'd never have seen it, for I only saw it myself by hanging +over, holding by a tree. No one would ever have thought o' digging there +when I'd closed up the opening with stones; I thought o' that when I put +him in." + +He got up and took a step or two about, but he gave no gesture or prayer +or word of pain. "The sin lies at my door," he said. + +"Well, yes, Mr. Bates, you drove me to it, but--" + +Her tone, so different from his, he interrupted. "Don't say 'but,' +making it out less black. Tell what ye did more." + +Then she told him, coolly enough, how she had arranged the bedclothes to +look as though, she slept under them: how she had got into the box +because, by reason of the knot-hole in the lid, she had been able to +draw it over her, and set the few nails that were hanging in it in their +places. She told him how she had laughed to herself when he took her +with such speed and care across the lake that was her prison wall. She +told him that, being afraid to encounter Saul alone, she had lain quiet, +intending to get out at Turrifs, but that when she found herself in a +lonely house with a strange man, she was frightened and ran out into the +birch woods, where her winding-sheet had been her concealment as she ran +for miles among the white trees; how she then met a squaw who helped her +to stop the coming railway train. + +"We lit a fire," she said, "and the Indian woman and the children stood +in the light of it and brandished; and further on, where it was quite +dark, we had got a biggish log or two and dragged them across the track, +so when the train stopped the men came and found them there; and I went +round to the back and got on the cars when all the men were off and they +didn't come near me till morning. I thought they'd find me, and I'd got +money to pay, but I got mixed up with the people that were asleep. I +gave the squaw one of your aunt's gold pieces for helping, but"--with a +sneer--"the passengers gave her money too. I made sure she'd not tell on +me, for if she had she'd have got in jail for stopping the train." + +"Puir body," said he; "like enough all she had seen o' men would make +her think, too, she had no call to say anything, though she must have +known of the hue and cry in the place." + +"More like she wanted to save herself from suspicion of what she had +done," said Eliza, practically. + +She still stood before him on the path, the strong firm muscles of her +frame holding her erect and still without effort of her will. The +stillness of her pose, the fashionableness of gown and hat, and the +broad display of her radiant hair, made a painful impression on Bates as +he looked, but the impression on two other men who went by just then was +apparently otherwise. They were a pair of young tourists who stared as +they passed. + +"By Jove, what a magnificent girl!" said one to the other just before +they were out of hearing. There was that of consciousness in his tone +which betrayed that he thought his own accents and choice words were +well worthy her attention. + +Eliza turned her back to the direction in which the strangers had gone, +thus covering the spare man to whom she was talking from their backward +glances. Bates, who was looking up at her face with his heart-hunger in +his eyes, saw a look of contempt for the passing remark flit across her +face, and because of the fond craving of his own heart, his sympathy, +strangely enough, went out to the young man who had spoken, rather than +to her sentiment of contempt. The angel of human loves alone could tell +why John Bates loved this girl after all that had passed, but he did +love her. + +And perceiving now that she had told what she had to tell, he turned his +mind to that something that lay on his mind to say to her. With the +burden of the thought he rose up again from his rude seat, and he held +up his head to look at her as with effort; she was so tall, that he +still must needs look up. + +"All's said that need be said, Sissy, between us two." His voice was +almost hard because he would not betray his wistfulness. "Ye have chosen +your own way o' life, and I willna raise a cry to alter it; I'm no fit +for that. If I could shape ye to my pleasure, I see now I'd make a poor +thing of it. Ye can do better for yourself if--if"--his square jaw +seemed almost to tremble--"if ye'll have a heart in ye, lassie. Forgive +me if I seem to instruct ye, for I've no thought in me now that I could +make ye better if I tried." + +He stopped again, and she saw his weak frame moving nervously; she +thought it was for want of breath. + +"You're awfully ill, Mr. Bates," she said, in dulness repeating words +that she seemed to have got by heart. + +Her stupid pity stung him into further speech. + +"Oh, lassie, it's not because I'm fond of ye that I say it, for what +does it matter about me, but because of all the men in the world that +love women. It's God's voice through them to you; and (although I can't +rightly frame it into words) because God set men and women in families, +and gave them to have affections, I tell ye the soul in which the pride +o' life, or pleasure, or the like o' that, takes the place of the +affections is a lost soul." Again his harsh mouth trembled, and the +words came with effort. "Sissy Cameron, ye've not known a mother nor a +sister, and your father was hard, and I who loved ye was worse than a +brute, and I can't rightly say what I would; but when I'm gone, look +round ye; lassie, at the best women ye know that are wives and mothers, +and if ye can't greet at the things they greet at, and if ye laugh at +things they don't laugh at, and if ye don't fear to do the things they +fear, then, even if your cleverness should make ye queen o' the whole +world, God pity ye!" + +"Yes, Mr. Bates," she said, just as she used to when she said the +catechism to him and he admonished her. She had listened to him with +that dull half-attention which we give to good-sounding words when our +heart is only alert for something for which we yet wait. She had it +firmly in her mind that he was going to say something on which would +hang her future fate, that he would either still ask her, in spite of +all she had said, to go back with him, or would tell her that he would +not have her now, as the American had done. All her sensibilities lay, +as it were, numb with waiting; she had no purpose concerning the answer +she would make him; her mind was still full of invective and complaint; +it was also full of a dull remorse that might melt into contrition; +either or both must break forth if he said that which appealed to words +in her. + +When Bates saw, however, that the little sermon which he had wrung from +his heart with so much pain had not impressed her much, he felt as if he +had never known until then the sharpest pain of sorrow, for although he +did not know what he had hoped for, there had been hope in proportion to +effort, and disappointment, the acutest form of sorrow, cut him to the +heart. He did not moan or bewail, that was not his way. He stood holding +himself stiffly, as was his wont, and pain laid emphasis on the severe +and resolute lines upon his face, for a face that has long been lent as +a vehicle for stern thoughts does not express a milder influence, +although the depths of the heart are broken up. + +She looked at his face, and the main drift of what he had said was +interpreted by his look; she had expected censure and took for granted +that all this was reproof. + +"I don't see, Mr. Bates"--her tone was full of bitterness--"that you've +got any call to stand there handing me over as if I was a leper." + +To which he answered angrily, "Bairn, haven't I told you once and again +that take your sin on my own soul?" + +"Well then"--still in angry complaint--"what right have you to be +looking and talking of me as if nothing was to be expected of me but +ill?" + +So he believed that it was worse than useless to speak to her. He drew +his hand over his heavy eyebrows. He thought to himself that he would go +home now, that he would start that day or the next and never see her +again, and in the decision he began walking away, forgetting the word +"good-bye" and all its courtesy, because oblivious of everything except +that thought that he was unfit for anything but to go and live out his +time in the desolate home. But when he had got about twenty paces from +her he remembered that he had said no farewell, and turned, looked back, +and came to her again, his heart beating like a boy's. + +She stood where he had left her, sullen, with head slightly bent, and +tearing the same leaves. Bates recognised her beauty to the full, as +much as any other man could have done, but it only hurt him and made him +afraid. He looked at her, timid as a child, yet manfully ignoring his +timidity, he tried to smile to her as he said, + +"Bairn, I may never see ye in this world again; give your old teacher a +kiss." + +Eliza stared, then lent her face to be kissed. She was surprised at the +gentleness of his sparing caress, so surprised that when she lifted her +head she stood stock still and watched him till he was out of sight, +for, driven by the scourge of his feeling, he went away from her with +quick, upright gait, never looking back. + +She watched him till he disappeared into Trenholme's house. When she +walked home she did not sob or wipe her eyes or cover her face, yet when +she got to the hotel her eyes were swollen and red, and she went about +her work heedless that anyone who looked at her must see the +disfigurement of tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +In the latter part of that day Bates suffered a fierce attack of his +malady. Everyone in Trenholme's house, including the master himself on +crutches, became agile in their desire to alleviate the suffering, and +he received their ministrations with that civility which denoted that, +had conventionality allowed, he would not have received them; for to +fling all that is given him at the heads of the givers is undoubtedly +the conduct that nature suggests to a man in pain. Having need, however, +of some help, Bates showed now, as before, an evident preference for +Alec as an attendant, a preference due probably to the fact that Alec +never did anything for him that was not absolutely necessary, and did +that only in the most cursory way. When Alec entered his room that +night to see, as he cheerfully remarked, whether he was alive or not, +Bates turned his face from the wall. + +"I think it right to tell ye," he began, and his tone and manner were so +stiff that the other knew something painful was coming, "I think it +right to tell ye that Eliza Cameron is alive and well. I have seen her." + +In his annoyance to think a meeting had occurred Alec made an +exclamation that served very well for the surprise that Bates expected. + +"Her father," continued Bates, "was decently buried, unknown to me, on +his own land, as is the custom in those parts of the country. The girl +was the person ye saw get up from the coffin--the one that ye were so +frightened of." + +This last word of explanation was apparently added that he might be +assured Alec followed him, and the listener, standing still in the +half-darkened room, did not just then feel resentment for the +unnecessary insult. He made some sound to show that he heard. + +"Then"--stiffly--"she took the train, and she has been living here ever +since, a very respectable young woman, and much thought of. I'm glad to +have seen her." + +"Well?" + +"I thought it right to tell ye, and I'm going home to-morrow or next +day." + +That was evidently all that was to be told him, and Alec refrained from +all such words as he would like to have emitted. But when he was going +dumbly out of the room, Bates spoke again. + +"Ye're young yet; when ye feel inclined to give your heart to any young +thing that you've a caring for, gie it as on the altar of God, and not +for what ye'll get in return, and if ye get in answer what ye're +wanting, thank God for a free gift." + +Then Alec knew that Sissy had been unkind to Bates. + +The night being yet early, he willingly recognised an obligation to go +and tell Miss Rexford that their mutual solicitude had in some way been +rendered needless. It was easy for him to find the lady he desired to +see, for while the weather was still warm it was the habit in Chellaston +to spend leisure hours outside the house walls rather than in, and Alec +Trenholme had already learned that at evening in the Rexford household +the father and brother were often exhausted by their day's work and +asleep, and the mother occupied by the cribs of her little ones. He +found the house, as usual, all open to the warm dry autumn evening, +doors and windows wide. The dusk was all within and without, except +that, with notes of a mother's lullaby, rays of candle light fell from +the nursery window. As his feet brushed the nearer grass, he dimly saw +Miss Rexford rise from a hammock swung on the verandah, where she had +been lounging with Winifred. She stood behind the verandah railing, and +he in the grass below, and they talked together on this subject that had +grown, without the intention of either, to be so strong a bond of +interest between them. Here it was that Alec could give vent to the pity +and indignation which he could not express to the man whose sufferings +excited these emotions. + +In spite of this visit Sophia sought Eliza again the next day. As she +entered the hotel Mr. Hutchins begged a word with her in his little +slate-painted office, saying that the young housekeeper had not been +like herself for some time, and that he was uneasy, for she made a +friend of no one. + +"Are you afraid of losing her?" asked Miss Rexford coldly, with slight +arching of her brows. + +He replied candidly that he had no interest in Eliza's joys or sorrows, +except as they might tend to unsettle her in her place. Having, by the +use of his own wits, discovered her ability, he felt that he had now a +right to it. + +Sophia went upstairs, as she was directed, to Eliza's bedroom on the +highest storey, and found her there, looking over piles of freshly +calendered house linen. The room was large enough, and pleasant--a +better bedroom than Sophia or her sisters at present possessed. Eliza +was apparently in high spirits. She received her guest with almost loud +gaiety. + +"What do you think's happened now, Miss Sophia?" cried she. "You +remember what I told you about Mrs. Glass? Well, there's two young +gentlemen come to the house here yesterday morning, and she's +entertained them before at her house in town, so they struck up great +friends with her here, and yesterday she had her supper served in the +upstairs parlour, and had them, and me, and nobody else. She says one of +them saw me out yesterday morning, and was 'smitten'--that's what she +calls it." + +Eliza gave an affected laugh as she repeated the vulgar word, and +coloured a little. "She says if I'll come to see her in town she's no +doubt but that he'll 'propose.'". + +"But I thought you were not going?" + +"I don't care for her," said Eliza, as if ingratitude were a virtue, +"but I rather like the young gentleman. That makes a difference. Look +here! She says he's getting on in business, and would give me a +carriage. How do you think I should look driving in a carriage, like +Mrs. Brown? Should I look as grand as she does?" + +"Much grander, I daresay, and much handsomer." + +"They all give dinner parties at Montreal." Eliza said this +reflectively, speaking the name of that city just as an English country +girl would speak of "London." "Don't you think I could go to dinner +parties as grand as any one? And, look here, they showed me all sorts of +photographs the Montreal ladies get taken of themselves, and one was +taken with her hair down and her side face turned. And Mrs. Glass has +been up here this afternoon, saying that her gentlemen friends say I +must be taken in the same way. She was fixing me for it. Look, I'll show +you how it is." + +Her great masses of hair, left loose apparently from this last visit, +were thrown down her back in a moment, and Eliza, looking-glass in hand, +sat herself sideways on a chair, and disposed her hair so that it hung +with shining copper glow like a curtain behind her pale profile. "What +do I look like, Miss Sophia?" + +"Like what you are, Eliza--a handsome girl." + +"Then why shouldn't I marry a rich man? It would be easier than drudging +here, and yet I thought it was grand to be here last year. It's easy +enough to get up in the world." + +"Yes, when anyone has the right qualities for it." + +"I have the right qualities." + +"Unscrupulousness?" interrogated Sophia; and then she charged the girl +with the falsehood of her name. + +Eliza put down her looking-glass and rolled up her hair. There was +something almost leonine in her attitude, in her silence, as she +fastened the red masses. Sophia felt the influence of strong feeling +upon her; she almost felt fear. Then Eliza came and stood in front of +her. + +"Is he _very_ ill, do you think, Miss Sophia?" + +"Not dangerously." Sophia had no doubt as to who was meant. "If he would +only take reasonable care he'd be pretty well." + +"But he won't," she cried. "On the clearin', when he used to take cold, +he'd do all the wrong things. He'll just go and kill himself doing like +that now, when he goes back there alone--and winter coming on." + +"Do you think you could persuade him not to go?" + +"He's just that sort of a man he'd never be happy anywhere else. He +hones for the place. No, he'll go back and kill himself. I'm sorry, but +it can't be helped. I'm _not_ sorry I came away from him; I'm not sorry +I changed my name, and did all the things I s'pose he's told you I did, +and that I s'pose you think are so wicked. I'd do it again if I was as +frightened and as angry. Was he to make me his slave-wife? _That's_ what +he wanted of me! I know the man!"--scornfully--"he said it was for my +good, but it was his own way he wanted." All the forced quiescence of +her manner had changed to fire. "And if you think that I'm unnatural, +and wicked to pretend I had a different name, and to do what I did to +get quit of him, then I'll go among people who will think it was clever +and a fine joke, and will think more about my fine appearance than about +being good all day long." + +Sophia was terribly roused by the torrent of feeling that was now +pouring forth, not more in words than in silent force, from the young +woman who stood over her. + +"Go!" she cried, "go to such people. Marry the man who cares for your +hair and your good looks. Urge him on to make money, and buy yourself +clothes and carriages and houses. I have no doubt you can do it! I tell +you, Eliza Cameron, such things are not much worth picking up at a gift, +let alone selling the nicer part of yourself for them!" + +The two had suddenly clashed, with word and feeling, the one against the +other. + +The window of Eliza's room was open, and the prospect from it had that +far-off peace that the prospect from high windows is apt to have. The +perfect weather breathed calm over the distant land, over the nearer +village; but inside, the full light fell upon the two women aglow with +their quarrel. + +Sophia, feeling some instinctive link to the vain, ambitious girl before +her, struck with words as one strikes in the dark, aiming at a depth and +tenderness that she dimly felt to be there. + +She believed in, and yet doubted, the strength in the better part of +Eliza's heart; believed, but spoke hurriedly, because she felt that a +chilly doubt was coming over her as to whether, after all, there was any +comprehension, any answering thrill, for the words she said. + +Her own stately beauty was at its height, at its loveliest hour, when +she spoke. She had been, in girlhood, what is called a beauty; she had +dazzled men's eyes and turned their heads; and when the first bloom was +past, she had gone out of the glare, having neither satisfied the world +nor been satisfied with it, because of the higher craving that is +worldly disability. She had turned into the common paths of life and +looked upon her beauty and her triumph as past. And yet, ten years +after the triumphs of her girlhood, this day, this hour, found her more +beautiful than she had ever been before. The stimulus of a new and more +perfect climate, the daily labour for which others pitied her, had done +their part. The angels who watch over prayer and effort and failure; and +failure and effort and prayer, had laid their hands upon her brow, +bestowing graces. As she sat now, speaking out of a full heart, there +came a colour and light that gave an ethereal charm to her handsome +face. There was no one there to see it; Eliza Cameron was not +susceptible to beauty. God, who created beauty in flowers and women, and +knew to the full the uses thereof, did not set flowers in gardeners' +shows nor women in ball-rooms. + +Sophia had spoken strongly, vividly, of the vanity of what men call +success, and the emptiness of what they call wealth, but Eliza, +self-centred, did not enter into this wide theme. + +"You despise me," she repeated sullenly, "because of what I have done." + +"What makes you think I despise you?" + +She did not intend to draw a confession on the false supposition that +Bates had already told all the story, but this was the result. Eliza, +with arms folded defiantly, stated such details of her conduct as she +supposed, would render her repulsive, stated them badly, and evoked that +feeling of repulsion that she was defying. + +Sophia was too much roused to need time for thought. "I cannot condemn +you, for I have done as bad a thing as you have done, and for the same +reason," she cried. + +Eliza looked at her, and faltered in her self-righteousness. "I don't +believe it," she said rudely. She fell back a pace or two, and took to +sorting the piles of white coverlets mechanically. + +"You did what you did because of everything in the world that you wanted +that you thought you could get that way; and, for the same reason, I +once agreed to marry a man I didn't like. If you come to think of it, +that was as horrid and unnatural; it is a worse thing to desecrate the +life of a living man than the death of a dead one. I stand condemned as +much as you, Eliza; but don't you go on now to add to one unnatural deed +another as bad." + +"Why did you do it?" asked Eliza, drawn, wondering, from the thought of +herself. + +"I thought I could not bear poverty and the crowd of children at home, +and that fortune and rank would give me all I wanted; and the reason I +didn't go through with it was that through his generosity I tasted all +the advantages in gifts and social distinction before the wedding day, +and I found it wasn't worth what I was giving for it, just as you will +find some day that all you can gain in the way you are going now is not +worth the disagreeableness, let alone the wrong, of the wrong-doing." + +"You think that because you are high-minded," said Eliza, beginning +again in a nervous way to sort the linen. + +"So are you, Eliza." Miss Rexford wondered whether she was true or false +in saying it, whether it was the merest flattery to gain an end or the +generous conviction of her heart. She did not know. The most noble +truths that we utter often seem to us doubtfully true. + +Now Sophia felt that what Eliza had said was only the fact--that it was +very sad that Mr. Bates should go ill and alone to his lonely home, but +that it could not be helped. To whatever degree of repentance and new +resolution Eliza might be brought, Sophia saw no way whatever of +materially helping Bates; but she urged the girl to go and visit him, +and say such kind and penitent things as might be in her power to say, +before he set forth on his melancholy journey. + +"No," said Eliza, "I won't go"; and this was all that could be obtained +from her. + +The visit was at an end. Sophia felt that it had been futile, and she +did not overlook the rebuff to herself. With this personal affront +rankling, and indignation that Eliza should still feel so resentful +after all that had been urged on behalf of Bates, she made her way into +the street. + +She was feeling that life was a weary thing when she chanced, near the +end of the village, to look back, and saw Alec Trenholme some way +behind, but coming in the same direction. Having her report to give, she +waited and brought him to her side. + +Sophia told all that had just passed, speaking with a restful feeling of +confidence in him. She had never felt just this confidence in a man +before; it sprang up from somewhere, she knew not where; probably from +the union of her sense of failure and his strength. She even told him +the analogy she had drawn between Eliza's conduct and the mistake of her +own life, alluding only to what all her little public knew of her deeds; +but it seemed to him that she was telling what was sacred to her +self-knowledge. He glanced at her often, and drank in all the pleasure +of her beauty. He even noticed the simplicity of the cotton gown and +leather belt, and the hat that was trimmed only with dried everlasting +flowers, such as grew in every field. As she talked his cane struck +sometimes a sharp passionate blow among plumes of golden-rod that grew +by their path, and snapped many a one. + +The roadside grass was ragged. The wild plum shrubs by the fences were +bronzed by September. In the fields the stubble was yellow and brown. +The scattered white houses were all agleam in the clear, cool sunshine. + +As he listened, Alec Trenholme's feeling was not now wrought upon at all +by what he was hearing of the girl who had stumbled in and out of his +life in ghostly fashion. Her masquerade, with all its consequences, had +brought him within near touch of another woman, whose personality at +this hour overshadowed his mind to the exclusion of every other +interest. He was capable only of thinking that Sophia was treating him +as a well-known friend. The compunction suppressed within him culminated +when, at her father's gate, Miss Rexford held out her hand for the +good-bye grasp of his. The idea that he was playing a false part became +intolerable. Impulsively he showed reluctance to take the hand. + +"Miss Rexford, I--I'm afraid you think--" + +Then he remembered the promise by which he was bound to let Robert tell +his own story. Confused, he seemed to know nothing but that he must +finish his sentence to satisfy the interrogation in her eyes. + +"You think I am a gentleman like Robert. I am only a--" + +"What?" she asked, looking upon him good-humouredly, as she would have +looked upon a blundering boy. + +"I am only a--a--cad, you know." + +His face had an uncomfortable look, hot and red. She was puzzled, but +the meaning that was in his thought did not enter hers. In a moment that +romantic didacticism which was one of the strongest elements in her +character had struck his strange words into its own music. + +"Oh, Mr. Trenholme!" she cried; "do not so far outdo us all in the grace +of confession. We are all willing to own ourselves sinners; but to +confess to vulgarity, to be willing to admit that in us personally there +is a vein of something vulgar, that, to our shame, we sometimes strike +upon! Ah, people must be far nobler than they are before that clause can +be added to the General Confession!" + +He looked at her, and hardly heard her words; but went on his way with +eyes dazzled and heart tumultuous. + +When at home he turned into the study, where his brother was still a +prisoner. The autumn breeze and sunshine entered even into this domain +of books and papers. The little garden was so brimful of bloom that it +overflowed within the window-sill. + +When he had loitered long enough to make believe that he had not come +in for the sake of this speech, Alec said, "I'm going to the West--at +least, when Bates is gone, I'll go; and, look here, I don't know that +I'd say anything to these people if I were in your case. Don't feel any +obligation to say anything on my account." + +Principal Trenholme was at his writing-table. "Ah?" said he, prolonging +the interrogation with benign inflection. + +"Have you come to doubt the righteousness of your own conclusions?" But +he did not discuss the subject further. + +He was busy, for the students and masters of the college were to +assemble in a few days; yet he found time in a minute or two to ask +idly, "Where have you been?" + +"For one thing, I walked out from the village with Miss Rexford." + +"And"--with eyes bent upon his writing--"what do you think of Miss +Rexford?" + +Never was question put with less suspicion; it was interesting to Robert +only for the pleasure it gave him to pronounce her name, not at all for +any weight that he attached to the answer. And Alec answered him +indifferently. + +"She has a pretty face," said he, nearing the door. + +"Yes," the other answered musingly, "yes; 'her face is one of God +Almighty's wonders in a little compass.'" + +But Alec had gone out, and did not hear the words nor see the dream of +love that they brought into the other's eyes. There was still hope in +that dream, the sort of hope that springs up again unawares from the +ground where it has been slain. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +It had not been continued resentment against Bates that had made Eliza +refuse Miss Rexford's request; it was the memory of the kiss with which +he had bade her good-bye. For two days she had been haunted by this +memory, yet disregarded it, but when that night came, disturbed by +Sophia's words, she locked out the world and took the thing to her heart +to see of what stuff it was made. + +Eliza lived her last interview with Bates over and over again, until she +put out her light, and sat by her bedside alone in the darkness, and +wondered at herself and at all things, for his farewell was like a lens +through which she looked and the proportion of her world was changed. + +There is strange fascination in looking at familiar scenes in +unfamiliar aspect. Even little children know this when, from some +swinging branch, they turn their heads downwards, and see, not their own +field, but fairyland. + +Eliza glanced at her past while her sight was yet distorted, it might +be, or quickened to clearer vision, by a new pulse of feeling; and, +arrested, glanced again and again until she looked clearly, steadily, at +the retrospect. The lonely farm in the hills was again present to her +eyes, the old woman, the father now dead, and this man. Bates, stern and +opinionated, who had so constantly tutored her. Her mind went back, +dwelling on details of that home-life; how Bates had ruled, commanded, +praised, and chidden, and she had been indifferent to his rule until an +hour of fear had turned indifference into hate. It was very strange to +look at it all now, to lay it side by side with a lover's kiss and this +same man her lover. + +Perhaps it was a sense of new power that thrilled her so strangely. It +needed no course of reasoning to tell her that she was mistress now, and +he slave. His words had never conveyed it to her, but by this sign she +knew it with the same sort of certainty we have that there is life in +breath. She had sought power, but not this power. Of this dominion she +had never dreamed, but she was not so paltry at heart but that it +humbled her. She whispered to herself that she wished this had not been; +and yet she knew that to herself she lied, for she would rather have +obliterated all else in the universe than the moment in which Bates had +said farewell. The universe held for her, as for everyone, just so much +of the high and holy as she had opened her heart to; and, poor girl, her +heart had been shut so that this caress of the man whose life had been +nearly wrecked by her deed was the highest, holiest thing that had yet +found entrance there, and it brought with it into the darkness of her +heart, unrecognised but none the less there, the Heaven which is beyond +all selfless love, the God who is its source. Other men might have +proffered lavish affection in vain, but in this man's kiss, coming out +of his humiliation and resignation, there breathed the power that moves +the world. + +She did not consider now whether Bates's suffering had been of his own +making or hers. She was not now engaged in an exercise of repentance; +compunction, if she felt it, came to her in a nervous tremor, a sob, a +tear, not in intelligible thought. Her memory gave her pictures, and the +rest was feeling--dumb, even within. She crouched upon the floor and +leaned her head against the bedside. Dry, trembling sobs came at +intervals, passing over her as if some outside force had shaken and left +her again; and sometimes, in the quiet of the interval, her lips smiled, +but the darkness was around. Then, at length, came tranquillity. Her +imagination, which had been strained to work at the bidding of memory, +in weariness released itself from hard reality, and in a waking dream, +touched, no doubt, into greater vividness by hovering hands of Sleep, +she found temporary rest. Dreams partake of reality in that that which +is and that which might be, are combined in their semblance of life. +Eliza saw the home she had so long hated and lived its life once more, +but with this difference, that she, her new present self, was there, and +into the old life she brought perforce what knowledge of the world's +refinements she had gained in her year of freedom. The knowledge seemed +to her much more important than it was, but such as it was, she saw it +utilised in the log house, and the old way of life thereby changed, but +changed the more because she, she the child Sissy, reigned there now as +a queen. It was this idea of reigning, of power, that surely now made +this dream--wild, impossible as she still felt it to be--pleasant. But, +as she pondered, arranging small details as a stimulated imagination is +wont to do, she became gradually conscious that if love were to reign +long, the queen of love would be not only queen but slave, and, as by +the inevitable action of a true balance, the slave of love would be a +ruler too. This new conception, as it at first emerged, was not +disagreeable. Her imagination worked on, mapping out days and months to +her fascinated heart. Then Sleep came nearer, and turned the +self-ordered dream into that which the dreamer mistook for reality. In +that far-off home she saw all the bareness and roughness of the lonely +life which, do what she would, she could not greatly alter; and there +again Bates kissed her; she felt his touch in all its reality, and in +her dream she measured the barrenness of the place against the knowledge +that her love was his life. + +The soul that lay dreaming in this way was the soul of a heavy-limbed, +ungracious woman. She lay now on the floor in ungainly attitude, and all +the things that were about her in the darkness were of that commonest +type with which ignorance with limited resource has essayed to imitate +some false ideal of finery, and produced such articles as furniture +daubed with painted flowers, jute carpets, and gowns beflounced and +gaudy. Yet this soul, shut off from the world now by the curtain of +sleep, was spoken to by an angel who blended his own being into +recollections of the day, and treated with her concerning the life that +is worthy and the life that is vain. + +Eliza awoke with a start. She raised herself up stiff and chilly. She +looked back upon her dream, at first with confusion and then with +contempt. She lit her lamp and the present was around her again. + +"No, I will not go," she said to herself. The words had been conned in +her fit of rudeness to Sophia Rexford that day, but now they had a wider +meaning. + +All sweet influences sent out from Heaven to plead with human hearts +withdrew for the time, for--such an awful thing is life--we have power +to repulse God. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Robert Trenholme was still obliged to rest his sprained ankle, and was +not yet going out, but an opportunity was afforded him of meeting his +friendly neighbours, at least the feminine portion of them, in company, +sooner than he anticipated. + +The day before the college reassembled it happened that the +sewing-circle connected with the church met at Mrs. Rexford's house. The +weather was unusually warm for the season; the workers still preferred +to sit out of doors, and the grass under the tree at the front of the +house was their place of meeting. About a dozen were there, among whom +Mrs. and Miss Bennett were conspicuous, when Mrs. Brown and her daughter +drove up, a little belated, but full of an interesting project. + +"Oh, Mrs. Rexford," they cried, "we have just thought of such a charming +plan! Why not send our carriage on to the college, and beg Principal +Trenholme to drive back here and sit an hour or two with us? It's so +near that, now he is so much better, the motion cannot hurt him; this +charming air and the change cannot fail to do him good, so confined as +he has been, and we shall all work with the more zeal in his presence." + +The plan was approved by all. If there were others there who, with +Sophia Rexford, doubted whether greater zeal with the needle would be +the result of this addition to their party, they made no objections. +They could not but feel that it would be a good thing for the invalid's +solitude to be thus broken in upon, for, for some reason or other, +Trenholme had been in solitude lately; he had neither invited visitors +nor embraced such opportunity as he had of driving out. + +Trenholme answered this invitation in person. The motherly members of +the party attended him at the carriage door when he drove up, and, with +almost affectionate kindness, conducted his limping steps to a reclining +chair that had been provided. His crutch, and a certain pensive pallor +on his countenance, certainly added to his attractions. Even Sophia +Rexford was almost humble in the attentions she offered him, and the +other maidens were demonstrative. In spite of such protestations as he +made, he was enthroned, as it were, in the most comfortable manner. Fur +sleigh robes were spread on the grass for a carpet, and the best of them +was used as a rug about his feet. + +The majority of women are best pleased by the company of a man whom +other men admire. Trenholme had never descended to being, even in +leisure hours, a mere "ladies' man"; if he had been that he would not +have had his present place in this company. Yet he was not bored by +finding himself the only man among so many women; he knew most of these +women, their faults and their worthiness, far too well not to be at ease +with them, even if he had troubled to give a second thought to their +largess of kindliness. He had responded to their unexpected call to meet +them together because he had something to say to them, and he said it +that afternoon in his own time and in his own way. Had he needed to +borrow dignity to sustain their jubilant welcome, his purpose would have +lent it to him, and, for the rest, all his heart was overshadowed and +filled with the consciousness of Sophia Rexford's presence. He had not +seen her since the night in which they had walked through midnight hours +together. He could not touch her hand without feeling his own tremble. +He did not look at her again. + +It was a pretty scene. The women, on their carpet of faded ox and +buffalo skins, were grouped on chairs and cushions. The foliage of the +maple tree above them was turning pink and crimson, shedding a glow as +of red curtains, and some of its leaves were already scattered upon the +ragged grass or on the shelving verandah roof of the wooden farmhouse. +The words that fell in small talk from the women were not unlike the +colour of these fading leaves--useless, but lending softness to the +hour. + +"And _your_ sewing-party will quite bear the palm for this season, Mrs. +Rexford, quite the palm; for no other has been honoured by the presence +of the Principal." + +It was Mrs. Bennett who spoke; her upright carriage, thin nose, and +clear even voice, carried always the suggestion of mild but obstinate +self-importance. + +The birdlike little hostess, confused by the misapplied praise, +remonstrated. "'Tis Mrs. Brown," cried she, "who bears the palm." + +Here the younger ladies, to whom nature had kindly given the saving +sense of humour, laughed a little--not too obviously--in concert with +the man thus lauded. + +Then they all fell to talking upon the latest news that Chellaston could +afford, which was, that a gentleman, a minister from the south of Maine, +had arrived, and by various explanations had identified the old preacher +who had been called Cameron as his father. It seemed that the old man +had long ago partially lost his wits--senses and brain having been +impaired through an accident--but this son had always succeeded in +keeping him in a quiet neighbourhood where his condition was understood, +until, in the beginning of the previous winter, the poor wanderer had +escaped the vigilance of his friends. It was partly on account of the +false name which had been given him that they had failed to trace him +until the circumstances of his tragic death were advertised. + +"The son is culpable. Mad people should be shut up where they can do no +mischief." About half the ladies present joined in this comment. + +Mrs. Rexford looked round uneasily to see that her young daughter +Winifred had not joined the party. Indiscreet usually, she was +wonderfully tender in these days of Winifred. + +"I am not sure that if he had been my father I would have shut him up." +Trenholme spoke and sighed. + +"If he had been my father," Sophia cried vehemently, "I would have gone +with him from village to village and door to door; I would rather have +begged my bread than kept him from preaching. I would have told the +people he was a _little_ mad, but not much, and saner than any of +_them_." + +There was enough sympathy with Sophia's vivacity among her friends to +make it easy to express herself naturally. + +"What is one false opinion more or less?" she cried. "Do any of us +imagine that _our_ opinions are just those held in heaven? This old man +had all his treasure in heaven, and that is, after all, the best +security that heart or mind will not go far astray." + +The youngest Miss Brown was sitting on the fur rugs, not very far from +Trenholme. She looked up at him, pretty herself in the prettiness of +genuine admiration. + +"It is such a pity that Miss Rexford is sitting just out of your sight. +You would be lenient to the heresy if you could see how becoming it is +to the heretic." + +But Trenholme was not seen to look round. He was found to be saying that +the son of the late preacher evidently held his father in reverence; it +seemed that the old man had in his youth been a disciple and preacher +under Miller, the founder of the Adventist sect; it was natural that, as +his faculties failed, his mind should revert to the excitements of the +former time. + +Mrs. Bennett had already launched forth an answer to Sophia's +enthusiasm. She continued, in spite of Trenholme's intervening remarks. +"When I was a girl papa always warned us against talking on serious +subjects. He thought we could not understand them." + +"I think it was good advice," said Sophia with hardihood. + +"Oh yes, naturally--papa being a dean--" + +Trenholme encouraged the conversation about the dean. It occurred to him +to ask if there was a portrait extant of that worthy. "We are such +repetitions of our ancestors," said he, "that I think it is a pity when +family portraits are lacking." + +Mrs. Bennett regretted that her father's modesty, the fortunes of the +family, etc.; but she said there was a very good portrait of her uncle, +the admiral, in his son's house in London. + +"I do not feel that I represent my ancestors in the least," said Miss +Bennett, "and I should be very sorry if I did." + +She certainly did not look very like her mother, as she sat with +affectionate nearness to Sophia Rexford, accomplishing more work in an +hour with her toil-reddened hands than her mother was likely to do in +two. + +"Ah, ladies' feelings!" Trenholme rallied her openly. "But whatever you +may _feel_, you assuredly do represent them, and owe to them all you +are." + +"Very true," said the mother approvingly. "Papa had black hair, +Principal Trenholme; and although my daughter's hair is brown, I often +notice in it just that gloss and curl that was so beautiful in his." + +"Yes, like and unlike are oddly blended. My father was a butcher by +trade, and although my work in life has been widely different from his, +I often notice in myself something of just those qualities which enabled +him to succeed so markedly, and I know that they are my chief reliance. +My brother, who has determined to follow my father's trade, is not so +like him in many ways as I am." + +If he had said that his father had had red hair, he would not have said +it with less emphasis. No one present would have doubted his +truthfulness on the one point, nor did they now doubt it on this other; +but no one mastered the sense and force of what he had said until +minutes, more or less in each case, had flown past, and in the meantime +he had talked on, and his talk had drifted to other points in the +subject of heredity. Sophia answered him; the discussion became general. + +Blue and Red came offering cups of tea. + +"Aren't they pretty?" said the youngest Miss Brown, again lifting her +eyes to Trenholme for sympathy in her admiration. + +"Sh--sh--," said the elder ladies, as if it were possible that Blue and +Red could be kept in ignorance of their own charms. + +A man nervously tired can feel acute disappointment at the smallest, +silliest thing. Trenholme had expected that Sophia would pour out his +tea; he thought it would have refreshed him then to the very soul, even +if she had given it indifferently. The cup he took seemed like some +bitter draught he was swallowing for politeness' sake. When it, and all +the necessary talk concerning it, were finished, together with other +matters belonging to the hour, he got himself out of his big chair, and +Mrs. Brown's horses, that had been switching their tails in the lane, +drove him home. + +The carriage gone, Mrs. Brown's curiosity was at hand directly. She and +Mrs. Rexford were standing apart where with motherly kindness they had +been bidding him good-bye. + +"I suppose, Mrs. Rexford, you know--you have always known--this fact +concerning Principal Trenholme's origin. I mean what he alluded to just +now." Mrs. Brown spoke, not observing Mrs. Rexford but the group in +which her daughters were prominent figures. + +Nothing ever impressed Mrs. Rexford's imagination vividly that did not +concern her own family. + +"I do not think it has been named to me," said she, "but no doubt my +husband and Sophia--" + +"You think they have known it?" It was of importance to Mrs. Brown to +know whether Captain Rexford and Sophia had known or not; for if they +knew and made no difference--"If Miss Rexford has not objected. She is +surely a judge in such matters!" + +"Sophia! Yes, to be sure, Sophia is very highly connected on her +mother's side. I often say to my husband that I am a mere nobody +compared with his first wife. But Sophia is not proud. Sophia would be +kind to the lowest, Mrs. Brown." (This praise was used with vaguest +application.) "She has such a good heart! Really, what she has done for +me and my children--" + +A light broke in upon Mrs. Brown's mind. She heard nothing concerning +Mrs. Rexford and her children. She knew now, or felt sure she knew, why +Miss Rexford had always seemed a little stiff when Trenholme was +praised. Her attitude towards him, it appeared, had always been that of +mere "kindness." Now, up to this moment, Mrs. Brown, although not a +designing woman, had entertained comfortable motherly hopes that +Trenholme might ultimately espouse one of her daughters, and it had +certainly advanced him somewhat in her favour that his early +acquaintance with Miss Rexford was an undisputed fact; but in the light +of what Mrs. Rexford had just said of her daughter's good-heartedness +all assumed a different aspect. Mrs. Brown was in no way "highly +connected," belonging merely to the prosperous middle class, but, with +the true colonial spirit that recognises only distance below, none +above, she began to consider whether, in the future, her role should not +be that of mere kindness also. To do her justice, she did not decide the +question just then. + +The voice of her youngest daughter was heard laughing rather +immoderately. "Indeed, Mrs. Bennett," she laughed, "we all heard him say +it, and, unlike you, we believed our ears. We'll draw up a statement to +that effect and sign our names, if that is necessary to assure you." + +Her mother, approaching, detected, as no one else did, a strain of +hysterical excitement in her laughter, and bid her rise to come home, +but she did not heed the summons. + +"Yes, he _did_ say it. That handsome brother of his, to whom I lost my +heart two weeks ago, does really--well, to put it plainly, knock animals +on the head, you know, and sell them in chops, and--what do you call it, +mamma?--the sirloin and brisket. 'How do you do, Mr. Trenholme? I want +some meat for dinner--chops, I think.' Oh, how I should love to go and +buy chops!" + +Sophia was kneeling over a pile of work, folding it. She asked the +boisterous girl for the cloth she had been sewing, and her voice was +hard and impatient, as if she wished the talk at an end. + +Mrs. Bennett arose and wrapped her cape about her thin shoulders, not +without some air of majesty. There was a bitter angry expression upon +her delicate face. + +"All that I wish to say in this matter is, that _I_ never knew this +before; others may have been in possession of these facts, but I was +not." + +"If you had been, of course you would have honoured him the more for +triumphing over difficulties," answered the elder Miss Brown, with +smooth sarcasm. + +"Yes, certainly _that_, of course; but I should have thought him very +unsuitably placed as an instructor of youth and--" + +The right adjustment of the cape seemed to interrupt the speech, but +others mentally supplied the ending with reference to Miss Bennett. + +"Miss Rexford, being one of Principal Trenholme's oldest friends, is not +taken by surprise." Some one said this; Sophia hardly knew who it was. +She knelt upright by the packing basket and threw back her head. + +"I met him often at my own uncle's house. My uncle knew him +_thoroughly_, and liked him well." + +Most of the women there were sensibly commenting on the amount of work +done, and allotting shares for the ensuing week. It would take a week at +least to rouse them to the state of interest at which others had already +arrived. + +Her cape adjusted, Mrs. Bennett found something else to say. "Of course, +personally, it makes no difference to me, for I have always felt there +was _something_ about Principal Trenholme--that is, that he was not--It +is a little hard to express; one feels, rather than speaks, these +things." + +It was a lie, but what was remarkable about it was that its author did +not know it for one. In the last half-hour she had convinced herself +that she had always suffered in Trenholme's presence from his lack of +refinement, and there was little hope that an imagination that could +make such strides would not soon discover in him positive coarseness. +As the party dispersed she was able to speak aside to Sophia. + +"I see how you look upon it," she said. "There is no difference between +one trade and another, or between a man who deals in cargoes of cattle +and one who sells meat in a shop."--She was weakly excited; her voice +trembled. "Looking down from a higher class, we must see that, although +all trades are in a sense praiseworthy, one is as bad as another." + +"They seem to me very much on a level," said Sophia. There was still a +hard ring in her voice. She looked straight before her. + +"Of course in this country"--Mrs. Bennett murmured something +half-audible about the Browns. "One cannot afford to be too particular +whom one meets, but I certainly should have thought that in our +pulpits--in our schools--" + +She did not finish. Her thin mouth was settling into curves that bespoke +that relentless cruelty which in the minds of certain people, is +synonymous with justice. + +It was a rickety, weather-stained chaise in which Mrs. Bennett and her +daughter were to drive home. As Miss Bennett untied the horse herself, +there was a bright red spot on either of her cheeks. She had made no +remark on the subject on which her mother was talking, nor did she speak +now. She was in love with Trenholme, that is, as much in love as a +practical woman can be with a man from whom she has little hope of a +return. She was not as pretty as many girls are, nor had she the +advantages of dress and leisure by which to make herself attractive. She +had hoped little, but in an honest, humble-minded, quiet way she had +preferred this man to any other. Now, although she was as different from +her mother as nature could make her, precepts with which her mind had +been plied from infancy had formed her thought. She was incapable of +self-deception, she knew that he had been her ideal man; but she was +also incapable of seeing him in the same light now as heretofore. + +Miss Bennett held the reins tight and gave her horse smart strokes of +the whip. The spiritless animal took such driving passively, as it +jogged down the quiet road by the enclosure of the New College. + +Unconscious that her words were inconsistent with what she had so lately +said, Mrs. Bennett complained again. "My nerves have received quite a +shock; I am all in a tremble." It was true; she was even wiping away +genuine tears. "Oh, my dear, it's a terribly low occupation. Oh, my +dear, the things I have heard they do--the atrocities they commit!" + +"I daresay what you heard was true," retorted Miss Bennett, "but it does +not follow that they are all alike." Without perceiving clearly the +extent of the fallacy, she felt called upon to oppose the +generalisations of a superficial mind. + +So they passed out of sight of Trenholme's house. Inside he sat at his +desk, plunged again in the work of writing business letters. We seldom +realise in what way we give out the force that is within us, or in what +proportion it flows into this act or that. Trenholme was under the +impression that what he had done that afternoon had been done without +effort? The effort, as he realised it, had come days and weeks before. +Yet, as he worked through the hours that were left of that day's light, +he felt a weariness of body and mind that was almost equivalent to a +desire for death. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Sophia Rexford stood and watched the last of the afternoon's company as, +some driving and some on foot, they passed in different directions along +the level road. It was a very peaceful scene. The neighbourhood lay +sunning itself in the last warmth of the summer, and the neighbours, to +all appearance, were moving homeward in utmost tranquillity. Sophia was +not at peace; she was holding stern rule over her mind, saying, "Be at +peace; who hath disturbed thee?" This rule lasted not many minutes; then +suddenly mutiny. "Good Heavens!" she cried within herself, "how +indiscreet I have been, making friends with these men. Shall I never +learn wisdom--I who have sought to direct others?" The recollections +that came caused her, in the sting of mortified pride, to strike her +hand with painful force against a chair near her. The bruise recalled +her to calm. The chair she had struck was that large one in which Robert +Trenholme had reclined. It aided her to ponder upon the man who had so +lately been seen on its cushions, and, in truth, her pondering +bewildered her. Why had he not said as much to her years before, and why +had he now said what he did, as he did? She thought she had known this +man, had fathomed him as to faults and virtues, though at some times she +rated their combination more reverently than at others. Truth to tell, +she had known him well; her judgment, impelled by the suggestion of his +possible love, had scanned him patiently. Yet now she owned herself at +fault, unable to construe the manner of this action or assign a +particular motive with which it was in harmony. It is by manner that the +individual is revealed (for many men may do the same deed), and a friend +who perforce must know a friend only by faith and the guessing of the +unseen by the seen, fastens instinctively upon signs too slight to be +written in the minutest history. At this moment, as Sophia stood among +the vacant seats, the scene of the conversation which had just taken +place, she felt that her insight into Robert Trenholme failed her. She +recalled a certain peace and contentment that, in spite of fatigue, was +written on his face. She set it by what he had said, and gained from it +an unreasoning belief that he was a nobler man than she had lately +supposed him to be; in the same breath her heart blamed him bitterly for +not having told her this before, and for telling it now as if, forsooth, +it was a matter of no importance. "How dare he?" Again herself within +herself was rampant, talking wildly. "How dare he?" asked Anger. Then +Scorn, demanded peace again, for, "It is not of importance to me," said +Scorn. + +Blue and Red and Winifred and the little boys came out to carry in the +chairs and rugs. A cool breeze came with the reddening of the sunlight, +and stirred the maple tree into its evening whispering. + +As Sophia worked with the children the turmoil of her thought went on. +Something constantly stung her pride like the lash of a whip; she turned +and shifted her mind to avoid it, and could not. + +She had deliberately deceived her friends when she had asserted that her +uncle had known all Trenholme's affairs. She had not the slightest doubt +now, looking back, that he had known--a thousand small things testified +to it; but he had not made a confidante of her, his niece, and she knew +that that would be the inference drawn from her assertion. She knew, +too, that the reason her uncle, who had died soon after, had not told +her was that he never dreamed that then or afterwards she would come +into intimate relationship with his protege. To give the impression that +he, and she also, knowing Trenholme's origin, had overlooked it, was +totally false. Yet she did not regret this falsehood. Who with a spark +of chivalry would not have dealt as hard a blow as strength might permit +in return for so mean an attack on the absent man? But none the less did +her heart upbraid the man she had defended. + +Sophia stood, as in a place where two seas met, between her indignation +against the spirit Mrs. Bennett had displayed (and which she knew was +lying latent ready to be fanned into flame in the hearts of only too +many of Trenholme's so-called friends) and her indignation against +Trenholme and his history. But it was neither the one current of emotion +nor the other that caused that dagger-like pain that stabbed her pride +to the quick. It was not Robert Trenholme's concerns that touched her +self-love. + +She had gained her own room to be alone. "Heaven help me," she cried +(her ejaculation had perhaps no meaning except that she had need of +expletive), "what a fool I have been!" + +She rehearsed each meeting she had had with Alec Trenholme. How she had +dallied with him in fields and on the road, seeing now clearly, as never +before, how she had smiled upon him, how she had bewitched him. What +mischance had led her on? She sprang up again from the seat into which +she had sunk. "Mercy!" she cried in an agony of shame, "was ever woman +so foolish as I? I have treated him as a friend, and he is--!" + +Then for some reason, she ceased to think of herself and thought of him. +She considered: had he made no effort? had he felt no pain? She saw how +he had waveringly tried to avoid her at first, and how, at last, he had +tried to warn her. She thought upon the epithet he had applied to +himself when trying to explain himself to her: she lifted her head +again, and, in a glow of generous thought, she felt that this was a +friend of whom no one need be ashamed. + +The bell for the evening meal rang. There are hours in which we +transcend ourselves, but a little thing brings us back to the level on +which we live. As Sophia hastily brushed her dark hair, mortified pride +stabbed her again, and scorn again came to the rescue. "What does it +matter? It would have been better, truly, if I had had less to do with +him, but what has passed is of no importance to anyone, least of all to +me!" + +As she had begun at first to rule her heart, so did she rule it all that +evening. But when she was again within her room alone she lingered, +looking out of her small casement at the fields where she had met Alec +Trenholme, at the road where she walked with him: all was white and cold +now in the moonlight. And soon she leaned her head against the pane and +wept. + +Those are often the bitterest tears for which we can furnish no definite +cause; when courage fails, we see earth only through our tears, and all +form is out of proportion, all colour crude, all music discord, and +every heart a well of evil, and we bewail, not our own woes only, but +the woe of the world. So this proud woman wept, and prayed God wildly to +save the world out of its evil into His good--and did not, could not, +tell herself what was the exciting cause of her tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Just as that day had turned rosy at the close and then white with the +lesser light of night, so did the summer now fade away in a blaze of +colour, giving one last display of what life could do before leaving the +land to the shroud of the winter's snow. Cool bracing winds, of which +there had already been foretaste, now swept the land. The sun seemed +brighter because the air was clearer. The college boys had returned, and +were heard daily shouting at their games. A few days made all this +outward difference. No other difference had as yet come about. + +Now that harvest was over and Captain Rexford was more at leisure, +Sophia felt that she must no longer postpone the disagreeable duty of +speaking to him seriously about his younger daughters. She chose an hour +on Sunday when he and she were walking together to a distant point on +the farm. She told the story of the flirtation of poor little Blue and +Red slightly, for she felt that to slight it as much as possible was to +put it in its true proportion. + +"Yes," said Captain Rexford. He took off his hat and brushed back his +hair nervously. He had many difficulties in his life. "Yes, and then +there is Winifred." + +"Girls here are not kept always under the eye of older people, as is +usually considered necessary in England; but then they learn from their +infancy to be more self-reliant. We have taken the safeguards of +governess and schoolroom suddenly from children almost grown-up, and set +them where no one has had time to look after them. They would need to +have been miraculously wise if, with time on their hands, they had not +spent some of it absurdly." + +"Yes," he said again unhappily, "what must we do about it, my dear? Your +hands are already full." He always leaned on Sophia. + +"I fear there is only one thing to do. We cannot give them society; we +cannot give them further education; they must have the poor woman's +protection--work--to take up their time and thoughts. We have saved them +from hard work until now, and it has not been true kindness." + +He did not answer. He believed what she said, but the truth was very +disagreeable to him. When he spoke again he had left that subject. + +"I am sorry for this affair about the Trenholmes. I like Trenholme, and, +of course, he has shown himself able to rise. The younger fellow is +plain and bluff, like enough to what he is." + +"His manners are perfectly simple, but I--I certainly never imagined--" + +"Oh, certainly not; otherwise, you would hardly have received him as you +did. For us men, of course, in this country--" He gave a dignified wave +of his hand. + +"Are you sure of that, papa,--that I would not have received him?" It +was exactly what she had been saying to herself for days; but, now that +another said it, the sentiment involved seemed weak. + +"I am aware"--his tone was resigned--"that your opinions are always more +radical than I can approve. The extreme always seems to have, shall I +say, some attraction for you; but still, my daughter, I believe you are +not lacking in proper pride." + +"I am too proud to think that for a good many days I have liked a man +who was not fit for my liking. I prefer to believe that he is fit until +I can have more conclusive proof to the contrary." + +Captain Rexford walked some minutes in sterner silence. He had long +ceased to regard Sophia as under his authority. + +"Still I hope, my dear, the next time you see this young man--rudeness, +of course, being impossible to you, and unnecessary--still I hope you +will allow your manner to indicate that a certain distance must be +preserved." + +Her own sense of expediency had been urging this course upon her, but +she had not been able to bring her mind to it. + +"I should show myself his inferior if I could deliberately hurt him," +she cried, with feeling. The trouble of a long debate she had been +having with herself, her uncertainty what to feel or think, gave more +emotion to her voice than she supposed. + +"My dear daughter!" cried the father, with evident agitation. + +Sophia instantly knew on what suspicion this sudden sympathy was +bestowed. She was too indignant to deny the charge. + +"Well, papa?" + +"He is, no doubt, a worthy man; but"--he got no help from his daughter; +she was walking beside him with imperious mien--"in short, my dear, I +hope--indeed, if I could think that, under false pretences, he could +have won--" + +"He is the last man to seek to win anything under a false pretence." The +coldness of her manner but thinly veiled her vehemence; but even in that +vehemence she perceived that what proofs of her assertion she could +bring would savour of too particular a recollection. She let it stand +unproved. + +"My dear child!" he cried, in affectionate distress, "I know that you +will not forget that rank, birth--" He looked at her, and, seeing that +she appeared intractable, exclaimed further, "It's no new thing that +ladies should, in a fit of madness, demean themselves--young ladies +frequently marry grooms; but, believe me, my dear Sophia"--earnestly--"no +happiness ever came of such a thing--only misery, and vice, and squalor." + +But here she laughed with irresistible mirth. "Young women who elope +with grooms are not likely to have much basis of happiness in +themselves. And you think me capable of fancying love for a man without +education or refinement, a man with whom I could have nothing in common +that would last beyond a day! What have I ever done, papa, that you +should bring such, an accusation?" + +"I certainly beg your pardon, my daughter, if I have maligned you." + +"You _have_ maligned me; there is no 'if' about it." + +"My dear, I certainly apologise. I thought, from the way in which you +spoke--" + +"You thought I was expressing too warm a regard for Mr. Alec Trenholme; +but that has nothing whatever to do with what you have just been talking +about; for, if he were a groom, if he chose to sweep the streets, he +would be as far removed from the kind of man you have just had in your +mind as you and I are; and, if he were not I could take no interest in +him." + +The gloom on Captain Rexford's brow, which had been dispelled by her +laughter, gathered again. + +"Separate the character of the man from his occupation," she cried. +"Grant that he is what we would all like in a friend. Separate him, too, +from any idea that I would marry him, for I was not thinking of such a +thing. Is there not enough left to distress me? Do you think I underrate +the evil of the occupation, even though I believe it has not tainted +him? Having owned him as a friend, isn't it difficult to know what +degree of friendship I can continue to own for him?" + +"My dear, I think you hardly realise how unwise it is to think of +friendship between yourself and any such man; recognition of worth there +may be, but nothing more." + +"Oh, papa!"--impatiently--"think of it as you will, but listen to what I +have to say; for I am in trouble. You were sorry for me just now when +you imagined I was in love; try and understand what I say now, for I am +in distress. I cannot see through this question--what is the right and +what is the wrong." + +"I do not think I understand you my dear," he said. + +She had stopped, and leaned back on the roadside fence. He stood before +her. All around them the yellow golden-rod and mullein were waving in +the wind, and lithe young trees bent with their coloured leaves. Captain +Rexford looked at his daughter, and wondered, in his slow way, that she +was not content to be as fair and stately as the flowers without +perplexing herself thus. + +"Papa, pray listen. You know that night when I went to seek +Winifred--you do not know, because I have not told you--but just before +the old man died. When he stood there, looking up and praying that our +Saviour would come again, there was not one of us who was not carried +away with the thought of that coming--the thought that when it comes all +time will be _present,_ not _past;_ and, papa, the clouds parted just a +little, and we saw through, beyond all the damp, dark gloom of the place +we were in, into a place of such perfect clearness and beauty beyond--I +can't explain it, but it seemed like an emblem of the difference that +would be between our muddy ways of thinking of things and the way that +we should think if we lived always for the sake of the time when He will +come--and it is very easy to talk of that difference in a large general +way, and it does no good--but to bring each particular thing to that +test is practical. Here, for instance, you and I ought to reconsider our +beliefs and prejudices as they regard this man we are talking about, and +find out what part of them, in God's sight, is pure and strong and to be +maintained, and what part is unworthy and to be cast away. Is it easy, +even in such a small matter as this?" + +Captain Rexford took off his hat in tribute to his theme, and stood +bareheaded. He looked what he was--a military man of the past and more +formal generation, who with difficulty had adapted himself to the dress +and habits of a farmer. He was now honestly doing his utmost to bring +himself to something still more foreign to his former experience. + +"To put it in a practical way, papa: if our Lord were coming to-morrow, +how would you advise me to meet Alec Trenholme to-day?" + +"Of course," began Captain Rexford, "in sight of the Almighty all men +are equal." + +"No, no," she pleaded, "by all that is true, men are not equal nor are +occupations equal. Everything has its advantages and disadvantages. It +is not as well to be stupid as to be wise, to be untaught as to be +taught, to be ugly as to be beautiful; it is not as good to kill cattle +as to till the soil, and it is not as good to be a farmer as to be a +poet. It is just because moralists go too far, and say what is not true, +that they fail. External things are of more importance to their Creator +than they are even to us." + +Captain Rexford brushed his hat with his sleeve. The thing that he was +most anxious to do at that moment was to pacify his daughter. + +"But if you feel this difference so keenly, Sophia, what then perplexes +you?" + +"I want to know how to deal with these differences, for the way we have +been accustomed to deal with them is false. This case, where one brother +is at the top of our little society and the other at the bottom, shows +it. Not all false--there comes the difficulty" (her face was full of +distress), "but largely false. If we have any spiritual life in us it is +because we have heard the call that Lazarus heard in the tomb, but the +opinions we will not let God transform are the graveclothes that are +binding us hand and foot." + +"My dear, I certainly think it right that we should live as much as +possible as we should wish to have lived when we come to die, but I do +not know that for that it is necessary to make a radical change in our +views." + +"Look you, dear father, if we were willing to step out of our own +thoughts about everything as out of a hindering garment, and go forth in +the thoughts in which God is willing to clothe us, we should see a new +heaven and a new earth; but--but--" she sought her word. + +"There may be truth in what you say" (his words showed how far he had +been able to follow her), "but your views would lead to very +revolutionary practices." + +"Revolution! Ah, that takes place when men take some new idea of their +own, like the bit, between their teeth, and run. But I said to live in +His ideas--His, without Whom nothing was made that was made; Who caused +creation to revolve slowly out of chaos" (she looked around at the +manifold life of tree and flower and bird as she spoke); "Who will not +break the reed of our customs as long as there is any true substance +left in it to make music with." + +"It sounds very beautiful, my dear, but is it practicable?" + +"As practicable as is any holy life!" she cried. "We believe; if we do +not live by a miracle we have no sort or manner of right to preach to +those who do not believe." + +Captain Rexford would have died for his belief in miracles, but he only +believed in them at the distance of some eighteen hundred years or more. + +"How would you apply this?" he asked, mildly indulgent. + +"To the question of each hour as it comes. What, for instance, is the +right way to act to Alec Trenholme?" + +When she came to his name for some reason she left her standing-place, +and they were now walking on side by side. + +"Well, Sophia, you bring an instance, and you say, 'put it practically.' +I will do so. This village is badly in need of such a tradesman. Even +the hotel, and other houses that can afford it, grumble at having to +obtain their supplies by rail, and we are badly enough served, as you +know. I have no idea that this young man has any notion of settling +here, but, _suppose he did_" (Captain Rexford said his last words as if +they capped a climax), "you will see at a glance that in that case any +recognition of equality such as you seem to be proposing, would be +impossible. It would be mere confusion." + +"And why should he not settle here? Are we, a Christian community, +unable to devise a way of treating him and his brother that would +neither hurt their feelings nor our welfare, that would be equally +consonant with our duty to God and our own dignity? Or must he go, +because our dignity is such a fragile thing that it would need to be +supported by actions that we could not offer to God?" + +"You know, my dear, if you will excuse my saying so, I think you are +pushing this point a little too far. If it were possible to live up to +such a high ideal--" + +"I would rather die to-night than think that it was _impossible_." + +"My dear" (he was manifestly annoyed now), "you really express yourself +too strongly." + +"But what use would it be to live?" She was going on but she stopped. +What use was it to talk? None. + +She let the subject pass and they conversed on other things. + +She felt strange loneliness. "Am I, in truth, fantastical?" she sighed, +"or, if Heaven is witness to the sober truth of that which I conceive, +am I so weak as to need other sympathy?" This was the tenor, not the +words, of her thought. Yet all the way home, as they talked and walked +through the glowing autumn land, her heart was aching. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +The day came on which Bates was to go home. He had had a week's petulant +struggle with his malady since he last passed through the door of +Trenholme's house, but now he had conquered it for the hour, and even +his host perceived that it was necessary for him to make his journey +before the weather grew colder. + +His small belongings packed, his morose good-byes said, Alec Trenholme +drove him to the railway station. + +Both the brothers knew why it was that, in taking leave of them, Bates +hardly seemed to notice that he did so; they knew that, in leaving the +place, he was all-engrossed in the thought that he was leaving the girl, +Eliza Cameron, for ever; but he seemed to have no thought of saying to +her a second farewell. + +The stern reserve which Bates had maintained on this subject had so +wrought on Alec's sympathy that he had consulted his brother as to the +advisability of himself making some personal appeal to Eliza, and the +day before Bates started he had actually gone on this mission. If it was +not successful, hardly deserved that it should be; for when he stood in +front of the girl, he could not conceal the great dislike he felt for +her, nor could he bring himself to plead on behalf of a man who he felt +was worth a thousand such as she. He said briefly that Bates was to +start for home the next day, and by such a train, and that he had +thought it might concern her to know it. + +"Did he tell you to tell me?" asked Eliza, without expression. + +"No, he didn't; and what's more, he never told me how you came here. You +think he's been telling tales about you! You can know now that he never +did; he's not that sort. I saw you at Turrifs, and when I saw you again +here I knew you. All I've got to say about _that_ is, that I, for one, +don't like that kind of conduct. You've half killed Bates, and this +winter will finish him off." + +"That's not my fault," said Eliza. + +"Oh? Well, that's for you to settle with yourself. I thought I'd come +and tell you what I thought about it, and that he was going. That's all +I've got to say." + +"But I've something more to say, and you'll stay and hear it." She +folded her arms upon her breast, and looked at him, a contemptuous, +indignant Amazon. "You think Mr. Bates would thank you if you got me to +go away with him because I was afraid he'd die. You think"--growing +sarcastic--"that Mr. Bates wants me to go with him because _I'm sorry +for him_. I tell you, if I did what you're asking, Mr. Bates would be +the first to tell you to mind your own business and to send me about +mine." + +She relapsed into cold silence for a minute, and then added, "If you +think Mr. Bates can't do his own love-making, you're vastly mistaken." + +It did not help to soothe Alec that, when he went home, his brother +laughed at his recital. + +"She is a coarse-minded person," he said. "I shall never speak to her +again." + +This had happened the day before he drove Bates to the station. + +It was a midday train. The railway platform was comparatively empty, for +the season of summer visitors was past. The sun glared with unsoftened +light on the painted station building, on the bare boards of the +platform, upon the varnished exterior of the passenger cars, and in, +through their windows, upon the long rows of red velvet seats. Alec +disposed Bates and his bundles on a seat near the stove at the end of +one of the almost empty cars. Then he stood, without much idea what to +say in the few minutes before the train started. + +"Well," said he, "you'll be at Quebec before dark." + +As they both knew this, Bates did not consider it worth an answer. His +only desire was that the train should be gone, so that he might be left +alone. He was a good deal oppressed by the idea of his indebtedness to +Alec, but he had already said all on that head that was in him to say; +it had not been much. + +An urchin came by, bawling oranges. They looked small and sour, but, for +sheer lack of anything better to do, Alec went out of the car to buy a +couple. He was just stepping in again to present them when, to his +surprise, he became aware that one of the various people on the platform +was Eliza Cameron. When he caught sight of her she was coming running +from the other end of the train, her face red with exertion and her +dress disordered. She looked in at the windows, saw Bates, and entered +where Alec had intended to enter, he drawing aside, and she not even +seeing him. + +The impetus of his intention carried Alec on to the outer porch of the +car, but his consideration for Bates caused him then to turn his back to +the door, and gaze down the long level track, waiting until Eliza should +come out again. + +The prospect that met his gaze was one in which two parallel straight +lines met visibly in the region of somewhere. He remembered learning +that such two lines do, in truth, always meet in infinity. He wondered +drearily if this were a parable. As he saw his life, all that he desired +and all that was right seemed to lie in two tracks, side by side, but +for ever apart. + +The advent of Eliza had sunk into less significance in his mind by the +time he heard the engine's warning bell. He turned and looked into the +car. There sat the man whom he had left, but not the same man; a new +existence seemed to have started into life in his thin sinewy frame, and +to be looking out through the weather-beaten visage. This man, fond and +happy, was actually addressing a glance of arch amusement at the girl +who, flushed and disconcerted, sought to busy herself by rearranging his +possessions. So quickly did it seem that Bates had travelled from one +extreme of life to another that Alec felt no doubt as to the kindly +triumph in the eye. Explanation he had none. He stepped off the jolting +car. + +"Is she coming out?" he asked the conductor. + +"No, she ain't," said a Chellaston man who stood near at hand. "She's +got her trunk in the baggage car, and she's got her ticket for Quebec, +she has. She's left the hotel, and left old Hutchins in the +lurch--that's what she's done." + +The train was moving quicker. The conductor had jumped aboard. Alec was +just aware that all who were left on the platform were gossiping about +Eliza's departure when he was suddenly spurred into violent movement by +the recollection that he had absently retained in his possession Bates's +ticket and the change of the note given him to buy it with. To run and +swing himself on to the last car was a piece of vigorous action, but +once again upon the small rear porch and bound perforce for the next +station, he gave only one uncomfortable glance through the glass door +and turned once more to the prospect of the long level track. Who could +mention a railway ticket and small change to a man so recently +beatified? + +The awkwardness of his position, a shyness that came over him at the +thought that they must soon see him and wonder why he was there, +suggested the wonder why he had desired that Bates should be happy; now +that he saw him opulent in happiness, as it appeared, above all other +men, he felt only irritation--first, at the sort of happiness that could +be derived from such a woman, and secondly, at the contrast between this +man's fulness and his own lack. What had Bates done that he was to have +all that he wanted? + +It is an easier and less angelic thing to feel sympathy with sorrow than +with joy. + +In a minute or two it was evident they had seen him, for he heard the +door slide and Bates came out on the little platform. He had gone into +the car feebly; he came out with so easy a step and holding himself so +erect, with even a consequential pose, that a gleam of derision shot +through the younger man's mind, even though he knew with the quick +knowledge of envy that it was for the sake of the woman behind the door +that the other was now making the most of himself. + +Alec gave what he had to give; it was not his place to make comment. + +Bates counted the change with a care that perhaps was feigned. If he +stood very straight, his hard hand trembled. + +"I'm sorry ye were forced to come on with the cars; it's another added +to all the good deeds you've done by me." He had found a tongue now in +which he could be gracious. + +"Oh, I shall soon get back," said Alec. + +"I suppose ye've seen"--with attempted coolness--"that my young friend +here, Eliza Cameron, is going back with me." + +"So I see." If his life had depended upon it, Alec could not have +refrained from a smile which he felt might be offensive, but it passed +unseen. + +"When she saw ye out here, she asked me just to step out, for perhaps +ye'd be so kind as to take a message to a young lady she has a great +caring for--a Miss Rexford, as I understand." + +"All right." Alec looked at the rails flying behind them, and stroked +his yellow moustache, and sighed in spite of himself. + +"I'd like ye to tell Miss Rexford from me that we intend to be married +to-morrow--in the city of Quebec; but Sissy, she would like ye to say +that she'd have gone to say good-bye if she'd known her own mind sooner, +and that she prefairred to come" (he rolled the r in this "preferred" +with emphasis not too obvious) "--ye understand?"--this last a little +sharply, as if afraid that the word might be challenged. + +Still looking upon the flying track, Alec nodded to show that he +challenged nothing. + +"And she wishes it to be said," continued the stiff, formal Scot (there +was a consequential air about him now that was almost insufferable), +"that for all I've the intention in my mind to spend my life in the old +place, she thinks she'll very likely break me of it, and bring me to +live in more frequented parts in a year or two, when she'll hope to come +and see her friends again. 'Tis what she says, Mr. Trenholme" (and Alec +knew, from his tone, that Bates, even in speaking to him, had smiled +again that gloriously happy smile), "and of course I humour her by +giving her words. As to how that will be, I can't say, but"--with +condescension--"ye'd be surprised, Mr. Trenholme, at the hold a woman +can get on a man." + +"Really--yes, I suppose so," Alec muttered inanely; but within he laid +control on himself, lest he should kick this man. Surely it would only +make the scales of fortune balance if Bates should have a few of his +limbs broken to pay for his luxury! + +Alec turned, throwing a trifle of patronage into his farewell. Nature +had turned him out such a good-looking fellow that he might have spared +the other, but he was not conscious of his good looks just then. + +"Well, Bates, upon my word I wish you joy. It's certainly a relief to +_me_ to think you will have someone to look after that cough of +yours, and see after you a bit when you have the asthma. I didn't think +you'd get through this winter alone, 'pon my word, I didn't; but I hope +that--Mrs. Bates will take good care of you." + +It was only less brutal to hurl the man's weakness at him than it would +have been to hurl him off the train. Yet Alec did it, then jumped from +the car when the speed lessened. + +He found himself left at a junction which had no interest for him, and +as there was a goods train going further on to that village where he had +stopped with Bates on their first arrival in these parts, he followed a +whim and went thither, in order to walk home by the road on which he had +first heard Sophia's voice in the darkness. + +Ah, that voice--how clear and sweet and ringing it was! It was not +words, but tones, of which he was now cherishing remembrance. And he +thought of the face he now knew so well, hugged the thought of her to +his heart, and knew that he ought not to think of her. + +Everywhere the trees hung out red and yellow, as flags upon a gala day. +He saw the maples on the mountain rise tier above tier, in feathery +scarlet and gold. About his feet the flowering weeds were blowing in one +last desperate effort of riotous bloom. The indigo birds, like flakes +from the sky above, were flitting, calling, everywhere, as they tarried +on their southward journey. Alec walked by the rushing river, almost +dazzled by its glitter, and felt himself to be, not only an unhappy, but +an ill-disposed man. + +"And yet--and yet--" thought he, "if Heaven might grant her to me--": +and the heaven above him seemed like brass, and the wish like a prayer +gone mad. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Sophia had lived on through a few more quiet days; and now she knew that +the problem to which she had set herself was not that one pleasantly +remote from her inmost self, as to where her duty lay in helping on an +ideal social state, but another question, that beside the first seemed +wholly common and vulgar, one that tore from her all glamours of +romantic conception, so that she sat, as it were, in a chamber denuded +of all softness and beauty, face to face with her own pride. And so +lusty was this pride she had deemed half-dead that beside it all her +former enthusiasms seemed to fade into ghostly nothings. + +At first she only determined, by all the chivalrous blood that ran in +her veins, to continue her kindness to the Trenholmes. She foresaw a +gust of unpopularity against them, and she saw herself defending their +interests and defying criticism. In this bright prospect the brothers +were humbly grateful and she herself not a little picturesque in +generous patronage. It was a delightful vision--for an hour; but because +she was nearer thirty than twenty it passed quickly. She touched it with +her knowledge of the world and it vanished. No; social life could not be +changed in a day; it would not be well that it should be. Much of the +criticism that would come in this case would be just; and the harsher +blows that would be dealt could not be stayed nor the unkindness defied; +even in the smaller affairs of life, he who would stand by the wronged +must be willing to suffer wrong. Was she ready for that? The longer she +meditated, the more surely she knew that Alec Trenholme loved her. And +when she had meditated a little longer--in spite of the indignation she +had felt at the bare suggestion--she knew that she loved him. + +The fine theories of universal conduct in which she had been indulging +narrowed themselves down to her own life and to sternest, commonest +reality. Christianity is never a quality that can be abstracted from the +individual and looked upon as having duties of its own. + +She fought against the knowledge that she liked him so well; the thought +of being his wife was the thought of a sacrifice that appalled her. A +convent cell would not have appeared to her half so far removed from all +that belongs to the pride of life; and lives there anyone who has so +wholly turned from that hydra-headed delight as not to shrink, as from +some touch of death, from fresh relinquishment? Her pulses stirred to +those strains of life's music that call to emulation and the manifold +pomps of honour; and, whatever might be the reality, in her judgment the +wife of Alec Trenholme must renounce all that element of interest in the +world for ever. Our sense of distinction poises its wings on the opinion +of men; and, as far as she had learnt this opinion, a saint or a nun +(she knew it now, although before she had not thought it) had honourable +part in life's pageantry, but not the wife of such as he. The prospect +in her eyes was barren of the hope that she might ever again have the +power to say to anyone, "I am better than thou." + +It did not help her that at her initiation into the Christian life she +had formally made just this renunciation, or that she had thought that +before now she had ratified the vow. The meaninglessness of such +formulas when spoken is only revealed when deepening life reveals their +depths of meaning. She asked, in dismay, if duty was calling her to this +sacrifice by the voice of love in her heart. For that Love who carries +the crown of earthly happiness in his hand was standing on the threshold +of her heart like a beggar, and so terrible did his demand seem to her +that she felt it would be easy to turn him away. + +"I," she said to herself, "I, who have preached to others, who have +discoursed on the vanity of ambition--this has come to teach me what +stuff my glib enthusiasm is made of. I would rather perjure myself, +rather die, rather choose any life of penance and labour, than yield to +my own happiness and his, and give up my pride." + +She arrayed before her all possible arguments for maintaining the +existing social order; but conscience answered, "You are not asked to +disturb it very much." Conscience used an uncomfortable phrase--"You are +only asked to make yourself of no reputation." She cowered before +Conscience. "You are not even asked to make yourself unhappy," continued +Conscience; and so the inward monitor talked, on till, all wearied, her +will held out a flag of truce. + +Most women would have thought of a compromise, would have, said, "Yes, I +will stoop to the man, but I will raise him to some more desirable +estate"; but such a woman was not Sophia Rexford. She scorned love that +would make conditions as much as she scorned a religion that could set +its own limits to service. For her there was but one question--Did +Heaven demand that she should acknowledge this love? If so, then the +all-ruling Will of Heaven must be the only will that should set bounds +to its demand. + +In the distress of her mind, however, she did catch at one idea that +was, in kind, a compromise. She thought with relief that she could take +no initiative. If Alec Trenholme asked her to be his wife--then she +knew, at last she knew, that she would not dare to deny the voice at her +heart--in the light of righteousness and judgment to come, she would not +dare to deny it. But--ah, surely he would not ask! She caught at this +belief as an exhausted swimmer might catch at a floating spar, and +rested herself upon it. She would deal honourably with her conscience; +she would not abate her kindliness; she would give him all fair +opportunity; and if he asked, she would give up all--but she clung to +her spar of hope. + +She did not realise the extent of her weakness, nor even suspect the +greatness of her strength. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +Robert Trenholme had not told his brother that he had made his +confession when he took tea with all the women. He knew that in such +cases difference and separation are often first fancied and then +created, by the self-conscious pride of the person who expects to be +slighted. He refrained from making this possible on Alec's part, and set +himself to watch the difference that would be made; and the interest of +all side-issues was summed up for him in solicitude to know what Miss +Rexford would do, for on that he felt his own hopes of her pardon to +depend. + +When he found, the day after Bates's departure, that Alec must seek Miss +Rexford to give Eliza's message, he put aside work to go with him to +call upon her. He would hold to his brother; it remained to be seen how +she would receive them together. + +That same afternoon Sophia went forth with Winifred and the little boys +to gather autumn leaves. When the two brothers came out of the college +gate they saw her, not twenty yards away, at the head of her little +troop. Down the broad road the cool wind was rushing, and they saw her +walking against it, outwardly sedate, with roses on her cheeks, her eyes +lit with the sunshine. The three stopped, and greeted each other after +the manner of civilised people. + +Trenholme knew that the change that any member of the Rexford family +would put into their demeanour could not be rudely perceptible. He set +no store by her greeting, but he put his hand upon his brother's +shoulder and he said: + +"This fellow has news that will surprise you, and a message to give. +Perhaps, if it is not asking too much, we may walk as far as may be +necessary to tell it, or," and he looked at her questioningly, "would +you like him to go and help you to bring down the high boughs?--they +have the brightest leaves." + +"Will you come and help us gather red leaves?" said Sophia to Alec. + +She did not see the gratitude in the elder brother's eyes, because it +did not interest her to look for it. + +"And you?" she said to him. + +"Ah, I" (he held up the cane with which he still eased the weight on one +foot), "I cannot walk so far, but perhaps I will come and meet you on +your return," and he pleased himself with the idea that she cared that +he should come. + +He went into his house again. His heart, which had lately been learning +the habit of peace, just now learned a new lesson of what joy might be. +His future before him looked troublous, but the worst of his fears was +allayed. He had loved Sophia long; to-day his love seemed multiplied a +thousandfold. Hope crept to his heart like a darling child that had been +in disgrace and now was forgiven. + +The others went on down the road. + +Alec told his news about Eliza as drily as facts could be told. If he +touched his story at all with feeling, it was something akin to a sneer. + +"She'll get him on to the track of prosperity now she's taken hold, Miss +Rexford," said he. "Mr. and Mrs. Bates will be having a piano before +long, and they will drive in a 'buggy.' That's the romance of a +settler's life in Canada." + +When they had left that subject Sophia said, "Now he is gone, are you +going away?" + +"Yes; in a day or two. I've fixed nothing yet, because Robert seems to +have some unaccountable objection to getting rid of me just at present; +but I shall go." + +"It is very fine weather," she said. + +"There is too much glare," said he. + +"You are surely hard to please." + +"What I call fine weather is something a man has something in common +with. If one were a little chap again, just leaving school for a +holiday, this would be a glorious day, but--what _man_ has spirits equal +to" (he looked above) "this sort of thing." + +His words came home to Sophia with overwhelming force, for, as they went +on, touching many subjects one after another, she knew with absolute +certainty that her companion had not the slightest intention of being +her suitor. If the sunny land through which she was walking had been a +waste place, in which storm winds sighed, over which storm clouds +muttered, it would have been a fitter home for her heart just then. She +saw that she was to be called to no sacrifice, but she experienced no +buoyant relief. He was going away; and she was to be left. She had not +known herself when she thought she wanted him to go--she was miserable. +Well, she deserved her misery, for would she not be more miserable if +she married him? Had she not cried and complained? And now the door of +this renunciation was not opened to her--he was going away, and she was +to be left. + +Very dull and prosaic was the talk of these two as they walked up the +road to that pine grove where the river curved in, and they turned back +through that strip of wilderness between road and river where it was +easy to be seen that the brightest leaf posies were to be had. + +Nearest the pines was a group of young, stalwart maple trees, each of a +different dye--gold, bronze, or red. It was here that they lingered, and +Alec gathered boughs for the children till their hands were full. The +noise of the golden-winged woodpecker was in the air, and the call of +the indigo bird. + +Sophia wandered under the branches; her mind was moving always. She was +unhappy. Yes, she deserved that; but he--he was unhappy too; did he +deserve it? Then she asked herself suddenly if she had no further duty +toward him than to come or go at his call. Did she dare, by all that +was true, to wreck his life and her own because she would not stoop to +compel the call that she had feared? + +Humility does not demand that we should think ill of ourselves, but that +we should not think of ourselves at all. When Sophia lost sight of +herself she saw the gate of Paradise. After that she was at one again +with the sunshine and the breeze and the birds, with the rapture of the +day and the land, and she ceased to think why she acted, or whether it +was right or wrong. The best and worst hours of life are in themselves +irresponsible, the will hurled headlong forward by an impulse that has +gathered force before. + +And what did she do? The first thing that entered her mind--it mattered +not what to her. The man was in her power, and she knew it. + +When the children's arms were full and they had gone on homeward down a +pathway among lower sumac thickets, Alec turned and saw Sophia, just as +stately, just as quiet, as he had ever seen her. So they two began to +follow. + +Her hand had been cut the day before, and the handkerchief that bound it +had come off. Demurely she gave it to him to be fastened. Now the hand +had been badly cut, and when he saw that he could not repress the +tenderness of his sympathy. + +"How could you have done it?" he asked, filled with pain, awed, +wondering. + +She laughed, though she did not mean to; she was so light-hearted, and +it was very funny to see how quickly he softened at her will. + +"Do not ask me to tell you how low we Rexfords have descended!" she +cried, "and yet I will confess I did it with the meat axe. I ought not +to touch such a thing, you think! Nay, what can I do when the loin is +not jointed and the servant has not so steady a hand as I? Would you +have me let papa grumble all dinner-time--the way that you men do, you +know?" + +The little horror that she had painted for him so vividly did its work. +With almost a groan he touched the hand with kisses, not knowing what he +did; and looking up, frightened of her as far as he could be conscious +of fear, he saw, not anger, but a face that fain would hide itself, and +he hid it in his embrace. + +"Oh," cried he, "what have I done?" + +Stepping backward, he stood a few paces from her, his arms crossed, the +glow on his face suddenly transcended by the look with which a man might +regard a crime he had committed. + +"What is it?" she cried, wickedly curious. The maple tree over her was a +golden flame and her feet were on a carpet of gold. All around them the +earth was heaped with palm-like sumac shrubs, scarlet, crimson, +purple--dyed as it were, with blood. + +"What have I done?" He held out his hands as if they had been stained. +"I have loved you, I have dared, without a thought, _without a thought +for you_, to walk straight into all the--the--heaven of it." + +Then he told her, in a word, that about himself which he thought she +would despise; and she saw that he thought she heard it for the first +time. + +Lifting her eyebrows in pretty incredulity. "Not really?" she said. + +"It is true," he cried with fierce emphasis. + +At that she looked grave. + +He had been trying to make her serious; but no sooner did he see her +look of light and joy pass into a look of thought than he was filled +with that sort of acute misery which differs from other sorrows as acute +pain differs from duller aches. + +"My darling," he said, his heart was wrung with the words--"my darling, +if I have hurt you, I have almost killed myself." (Man that he was, he +believed that his life must ebb in this pain.) + +"Why?" she asked. "How?" + +He went a step nearer her, but as it came to him every moment more +clearly that he had deceived her, as he realised what he had gained and +what he now thought to forego, his voice forsook him in his effort to +speak. Words that he tried to say died on his lips. + +But she saw that he had tried to say that because of it she should not +marry him. + +He tried again to speak and made better work of it. "This that has come +to us--this love that has taken us both--you will say it is not enough +to--to--" + +She lifted up her face to him. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes were +full of light. "This that has come to us, Alec--" (At his name he came +nearer yet) "this that has taken us both" (she faltered) "is enough." + +He came near to her again; he took her hands into his; and all that he +felt and all that she felt, passed from his eyes to hers, from hers to +his. + +He said, "It seems like talking in church, but common things must be +said and answered, and--Sophie--what will your father say?" + +"I don't know," she said; but happiness made her playful; she stroked +the sleeve of his coat, as if to touch it were of more interest to her. +"I will give him my fortune to make up, and come to you penniless." + +"He won't consent," he urged. + +There was still a honeyed carelessness in her voice and look. "At the +great age to which I have attained," said she, "fathers don't +interfere." + +"What can I do or say," he said, "to make you consider?" for it seemed +to him that her thoughts and voice came from her spellbound in some +strange delight, as the murmur comes from a running stream, without +meaning, except the meaning of all beautiful and happy things in God's +world. + +"What must I consider?" + +"The shop--the trade." + +"When you were a very young butcher, and first took to it, did you like +it?" + +"I wasn't squeamish," he said; and then he told her about his father. +After that he philosophised a little, telling something of the best that +he conceived might be if men sought the highest ideal in lowly walks of +life, instead of seeking to perform imperfectly some nobler business. It +was wonderful how much better he could speak to her than to his brother, +but Sophia listened with such perfect assent that his sense of honour +again smote him. + +"Art thinking of it all, love?" he said. + +"I was wondering what colour of aprons you wore, and if I must make +them." + +They began to walk home, passing now under the sumac's palm-like canopy, +and they saw the blue gleam of the singing river through red thickets. +Soon they came to a bit of open ground, all overgrown with bronzed +bracken, and maidenhair sere and pink, and blue-eyed asters and +golden-rod. So high and thick were the breeze-blown weeds that the only +place to set the feet was a very narrow path. Here Sophia walked first, +for they could not walk abreast, and as Alec watched her threading her +way with light elastic step, he became afraid once more, and tried to +break through her happy tranquillity. + +"Dear love," he said, "I hope--" + +"What now?" said she, for his tone was unrestful. + +He trampled down flowers and ferns as he awkwardly tried to gain her +side. + +"You know, dear, I have a sort of feeling that I've perhaps just +fascinated and entranced you--so that you are under a spell and don't +consider, you know." + +It was exactly what he meant, and he said it; but how merrily she +laughed! Her happy laughter rang; the river laughed in answer, and the +woodpecker clapped applause. + +But Alec blushed very much and stumbled upon the tangled weeds. + +"I only meant--I--I didn't mean--That is the way I feel fascinated by +you, you know; and I suppose it might be the same--" + +They walked on, she still advancing a few paces because she had the +path, he retarded because, in his attempt to come up with her, he was +knee-deep in flowers. But after a minute, observing that he was hurt in +his mind because of her laughter, she mocked him, laughing again, but +turned the sunshine of her loving face full upon him as she did so. + +"Most fascinating and entrancing of butchers!" quoth she. + +With that as she entered another thicket of sumac trees, he caught and +kissed her in its shade. + + * * * * * + +And there was one man who heard her words and saw his act, one who took +in the full meaning of it even more clearly than they could, because +they in their transport had not his clearness of vision. Robert +Trenholme, coming to seek them, chanced in crossing this place, thick +set with shrubs, to come near them unawares, and seeing them, and having +at the sight no power in him to advance another step or speak a word, he +let them pass joyously on their way towards home. It was not many +moments before they had passed off the scene, and he was left the only +human actor in that happy wilderness where flower and leaf and bird, the +blue firmament on high and the sparkling river, rejoiced together in the +glory of light and colour. + +Trenholme crossed the path and strode through flowery tangle and woody +thicket like a giant in sudden strength, snapping all that offered to +detain his feet. He sought, he knew not why, the murmur and the motion +of the river; and where young trees stood thickest, as spearsmen to +guard the loneliness of its bank, he sat down upon a rock and covered +his face, as if even from the spirits of solitude and from his own +consciousness he must hide. He thought of nothing: his soul within him +was mad. + +He had come out of his school not half an hour before, rejoicing more +than any schoolboy going to play in the glorious weather. For him there +was not too much light on the lovely autumn landscape; it was all a part +of the peace that was within him and without, of the God he knew to be +within him and without--for, out of his struggle for righteousness in +small things, he had come back into that light which most men cannot see +or believe. Just in so far as a man comes into that light he ceases to +know himself as separate, but knows that he is a part of all men and all +things, that his joy is the joy of all men, that their pain is his; +therefore, as Trenholme desired the fulfilment of his own hopes, he +desired that all hope in the world might find fruition. And because this +day he saw--what is always true if we could but see it--that joy is a +thousandfold greater than pain, the glory of the autumn seemed to him +like a psalm of praise, and he gave thanks for all men. + +Thus Trenholme had walked across the fields, into these groves--but now, +as he sat by the river, all that, for the time, had passed away, except +as some indistinct memory of it maddened him. His heart was full of rage +against his brother, rage too against the woman he loved; and with this +rage warred most bitterly a self-loathing because he knew that his anger +against them was unjust. She did not know, she had no cause to know, +that she had darkened his whole life; but--what a _fool_ she was! What +companionship could that thoughtless fellow give her? How he would drag +her down! And _he_, too, could not know that he had better have killed +his brother than done this thing. But any woman would have done for +Alec; for himself there was only this one--only this one in the whole +world. He judged his brother; any girl with a pretty face and a good +heart would have done for that boisterous fellow--while for himself--"Oh +God," he said, "it is hard." + +Thus accusing and excusing these lovers, excusing and again accusing +himself for his rage against them, he descended slowly into the depth of +his trouble--for man, in his weakness, is so made that he can come at +his worst suffering only by degrees. Yet when he had made this descent, +the hope he had cherished for months and years lay utterly overthrown; +it could not have been more dead had it been a hundred years in dying. +He had not known before how dear it was, yet he had known that it was +dearer than all else, except that other hope with which we do not +compare our desires for earthly good because we think it may exist +beside them and grow thereby. + +There are times when, to a man, time is not, when the life of years is +gathered into indefinite moments; and after, when outward things claim +again the exhausted mind, he wonders that the day is not further spent. +And Trenholme wondered at the length of that afternoon, when he observed +it again and saw that the sun had not yet sunk low, and as he measured +the shadows that the bright trees cast athwart the moving water, he was +led away to think the thoughts that had been his when he had so lightly +come into those gay autumn bowers. A swallow skimmed the wave with +burnished wing; again he heard the breeze and the rapid current. They +were the same; the movement and music were the same; God was still with +him; was he so base as to withhold the thanksgiving that had been +checked half uttered in his heart by the spring of that couchant sorrow? +_Then_ in the sum of life's blessings he had numbered that hope of his, +and _now_ he had seen the perfect fruition of that hope in joy. It was +not his own,--but was it not much to know that God had made such joy, +had given it to man? Had he in love of God no honest praise to give for +other men's mercies? none for the joy of this man who was his brother? +Across the murmur of the river he spoke words so familiar that they came +to clothe the thought-- + +"We do give Thee most humble and hearty thanks for all Thy goodness +and--loving kindness--to us--and to _all men_." + +And although, as he said them, his hand was clenched so that his fingers +cut the palm, yet, because he gave thanks, Robert Trenholme was nearer +than he knew to being a holy man. + + +THE END. + + + + +THE ONE GOOD GUEST. + +A NOVEL. By L.B. Walford + +Author of "Mr. Smith," "The Baby's Grandmother," ETC., ETC. 12mo, Cloth, +Ornamental, $1.00. + + +"It is a delightful picture of life at an English estate, which is +presided over by a young 'Squire' and his young sister. Their +experiences are cleverly told, and the complications which arise are +amusing and interesting. There are many humorous touches, too, which add +no slight strength to the story."--BOSTON TIMES. + +"A charming little social comedy, permeated with a refinement of +spontaneous humor and brilliant with touches of shrewd and searching +satire."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"The story is bright, amusing, full of interest and incident, and the +characters are admirably drawn. Every reader will recognize a friend or +acquaintance in some of the people here portrayed. Every one will wish +he could have been a guest at Duckhill Manor, and will hope that the +author has more stories to tell."--PUBLIC OPINION. + +"A natural, amusing, kindly tale, told with great skill. The characters +are delightfully human, the individuality well caught and preserved, the +quaint humor lightens every page, and a simple delicacy and tenderness +complete an excellent specimen of story telling."--PROVIDENCE JOURNAL. + +"For neat little excursions into English social life, and that of the +best, commend us to the writer of 'The One Good Guest,'"--N.Y. TIMES. + +"The story is bright, amusing, full of interest and incident, and the +characters are admirably drawn. Every reader will recognize a friend or +acquaintance in some of the people here portrayed. Every one will wish +he could have been a guest at Duckhill Manor, and will hope that the +author has more stories to tell."--PORTLAND OREGONIAN. + + + + +BEGGARS ALL. + +A NOVEL. By Miss L. Dougall. + +Sixth Edition. 12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00. + + +"This is one of the strongest as well as most original romances of the +year.... The plot is extraordinary.... The close of the story is +powerful and natural.... A masterpiece of restrained and legitimate +dramatic fiction."--LITERARY WORLD. + +"To say that 'Beggars All' is a remarkable novel is to put the case +mildly indeed, for it is one of the most original, discerning, and +thoroughly philosophical presentations of character that has appeared in +English for many a day.... Emphatically a novel that thoughtful people +ought to read ... the perusal of it will by many be reckoned among the +intellectual experiences that are not easily forgotten."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"A story of thrilling interest."--HOME JOURNAL. + +"A very unusual quality of novel. It is written with ability; it tells a +strong story with elaborate analysis of character and motive ... it is +of decided interest and worth reading."--COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER, N.Y. + +"It is more than a story for mere summer reading, but deserves a +permanent place among the best works of modern fiction. The author has +struck a vein of originality purely her own.... It is tragic, pathetic, +humerous by turns.... Miss Dougall has, in fact, scored a great success. +Her book is artistic, realistic, intensely dramatic--in fact, one of the +novels of the year."--BOSTON TRAVELLER. + +"'Beggars-All' is a noble work of art, but is also something more and +something better. It is a book with a soul in it, and in a sense, +therefore, it may be described as an inspired work. The inspiration of +genius may or may not he lacking to it, but the inspiration of a pure +and beautiful spirituality pervades it completely ... the characters are +truthfully and powerfully drawn, the situations finely imagined, and the +story profoundly interesting."--CHICAGO TRIBUNE. + + +LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK. + +KEITH DERAMORE. + +A NOVEL. By the Author of "Miss Molly." + +Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00. + + +"One of the strongest novels for the year.... A book of absorbing and +sustained interest, full of those touches of pathos, gusts of passion, +and quick glimpses into the very hearts of men and women which are a +necessary equipment of any great writer of fiction."--STAR. + +"A story with originality of plot and a number of interesting and +skillfully drawn characters.... Well worthy of a careful +perusal."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"The few important characters introduced are very clearly and well +drawn; one is a quite unusual type and reveals a good deal of power in +the author. It is a live story of more than ordinary interest."--REVIEW +OF REVIEWS. + +"A novel of quiet but distinct force and of marked refinement in manner. +The few characters in 'Keith Deramore' are clearly and delicately drawn, +and the slight plot is well sustained."--CHRISTIAN UNION. + +"The author of 'Miss Molly' shall have her reward in the reception of +'Keith Deramore.' If it is not popular there is no value in +prophecy."--SPRINGFIELD REPUBLICAN. + +"The story is strong and interesting, worthy of a high place in +fiction."--PUBLIC OPINION. + +"Its development can be followed with great interest. It is well written +and entertaining throughout."--THE CRITIC. + +"An exceptionally interesting novel. It is an admirable addition to an +admirable series."-BOSTON TRAVELLER. + +"It contains character-drawing which places it much above the average +love story, and makes the reading of it worth while. It is a fine study +of a normally-selfish man. There is humor in it, and sustained +interest."--BUFFALO EXPRESS. + + + + + +A MORAL DILEMMA. By Annie M. Thompson. + +Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00. + + +"We have in this most delightful volume ... a new novel by a new author. +The title is happily chosen, the plot is thrillingly interesting, its +development is unusually artistic, the style is exceptionally pure, the +descriptions are graphic. In short we have one of the best of recent +novels, and the author gives great promise."--BOSTON TRAVELLER. + +"A novel of rare beauty and absorbing interest. Its plot, which is +constructed with great skill, is decidedly unconventional in its +development, and its denouement, although unanticipated until near its +climax, really comes as an agreeable surprise.... As a literary work, 'A +Moral Dilemma' will take high rank."--BOSTON HOME JOURNAL. + +"The story is well written and gives promise of the development of a +writer who will take place among the ranks of those of her sex who are +supplying what is much needed at this time--entertaining, wholesome +literature."--YALE COURANT. + +"The author writes with vigor and earnestness, and the book is one of +interest and power."--PUBLIC OPINION. + +"The story is strongly told."--INDEPENDENT. + +"A strong story which leaves the reader better for the perusal. A +touchlight as Barrie's carries one through the successive scenes, which +are fraught with deep interest."--PUBLIC LEDGER. + + +LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK. + +SWEETHEART GWEN. + +A WELSH IDYLL. By William Tirebuck, + +Author of "Dorrie," "St. Margaret," ETC. + +Crown 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00. + + +"Very charming in its depiction of a simple country life giving several +piquant studies of quaint and attractive character, and not wanting in +the flavor of that romance which all good novels must possess--the +romance of love.... The book is written with knowledge and power, and +has the idyllic flavor."--BOSTON BEACON. + +"It is an idyll, a lovely one, conceived by some one whose childhood has +been happily impressed on him.... The reader lives amid the pastures and +the orchards of Ty-Cremed, and eats the brown bread and drinks the milk +there, and Auntie Gwen, with her white teeth, cracks filberts for him. +This sweet, impulsive woman, with her blue eyes and her russet hair, +bewitches you, as she does her little nephew, Martin. Mr. Tirebuck's +literary faculties are of an exceptional kind. Those who love to read of +child life will find here a perfect picture. There is, however, much +more than this."--N.Y. TIMES. + +"It is a vigorously told story of rural and child-life in Wales, and +most tenderly, imaginatively, simply, it is done ... has humor, pathos, +fancy, courage, deep human feeling, and admirable descriptive +power."--PROVIDENCE JOURNAL. + +"This is a delightful romance ... a charming description of Welsh +country life, with quaint and picturesque studies."--BOSTON TRAVELLER. + + + + + +DORRIE. By William Tirebuck, + +Author of "St. Margaret," "Sweetheart Gwen," ETC. + +Second Edition. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.50 +O. + + +"A really notable novel. Dramatic and profoundly pathetic. A +psychological study of great value."--GRAPHIC. + +"Mr. Tirebuck is a novelist of undoubted courage and fertility of +imagination. The story is interesting beyond all question. He +unquestionably knows how to draw a picture."--ATHENAEUM. + +"'Dorrie' is an extremely touching and realistic picture of Liverpool +life. Mr. Tirebuck writes vigorously, and his story is certainly one of +profound human interest."--G. BARNETT SMITH, in _The Academy_. + +"Mr. Tirebuck has the root of the matter in him. 'Dorrie' is really a +strong piece of work--a decidedly interesting story."--SPECTATOR. + +"Mr. Tirebuck has a real gift of story-telling to begin with. And he has +other greater qualities than that.... His latest novel possesses a broad +human interest as a really imaginative study of life."--RICHARD LE +GALLIENNE, in _The Star_. + +"This story possesses unusual powers of attraction, and gives +unmistakable evidence of genius."--MANCHESTER EXAMINER. + +"She (Dorrie) seems to myself the most absolutely original, and, in her +way, the most taking figure in recent fiction. She is unique. To one +reader at least she remains among the friends of fiction, the beloved of +dreams."--ANDREW LANG, _At the Sign of the Ship_. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS*** + + +******* This file should be named 16398.txt or 16398.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/3/9/16398 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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