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diff --git a/old/gp22w10.txt b/old/gp22w10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a92f750 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gp22w10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10163 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook Mrs. Falchion, by Gilbert Parker, Complete +#22 in our series by Gilbert Parker + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: Mrs. Falchion, Complete + +Author: Gilbert Parker + + +Release Date: July, 2004 [Etext #6194] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on September 6, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MRS. FALCHION, BY PARKER, ENTIRE *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net] +Extensive proofreading done by Andrew Sly + + + + + +MRS. FALCHION + +By Gilbert Parker + + + +INTRODUCTION + +This novel was written in the days of the three-decker, and it went out +to sea as such. Every novel of mine written until 1893 was published in +two or three volumes, and the sale to the libraries was greater than the +sale to the general public. This book was begun in 1892 at the time when +the Pierre stories were being written, and it was finished in the summer +of 1893. It did not appear serially; indeed, I made no attempt at serial +publication. I had a feeling that as it was to be my first novel, it +should be judged as a whole and taken at a gasp, as it were. I believe +that the reader of Messrs. Methuen & Company was not disposed to publish +the book, but Mr. Methuen himself (or Mr. Stedman as he was then called) +was impressed by it and gave it his friendly confidence. He was certain +that it would arrest the attention of the critics and of the public, +whether it became popular or not. I have not a set of those original +three volumes. I wish I had, because they won for me an almost unhoped- +for pleasure. The 'Daily Chronicle' gave the volumes over a column of +review, and headed the notice, "A Coming Novelist." The 'Athenaeum' said +that 'Mrs. Falchion' was a splendid study of character; 'The Pall Mall +Gazette' said that the writing was as good as anything that had been done +in our time, while at the same time it took rather a dark view of my +future as a novelist, because it said I had not probed deep enough into +the wounds of character which I had inflicted. The article was written +by Mr. George W. Stevens, and he was right in saying that I had not +probed deep enough. Few very young men--and I was very young then--do +probe very deeply. At the appearance of 'When Valmond Came to Pontiac', +however, Mr. Stevens came to the conclusion that my future was assured. + +I mention these things because they were burnt into my mind at the time. +'Mrs. Falchion' was my first real novel, as I have said, though it had +been preceded by a short novel called 'The Chief Factor', since rescued +from publication and never published in book form in England. I realised +when I had written 'Mrs. Falchion' that I had not found my metier, and I +was fearful of complete failure. I had come but a few years before from +the South Seas; I was full of what I had seen and felt; I was eager to +write of it all, and I did write of it; but the thing which was deeper +still in me was the life which 'Pierre and His People', 'The Seats of the +Mighty', 'The Trail of the Sword', 'The Lane That Had no Turning', and +'The Right of Way' portrayed. That life was destined to give me an +assured place and public, while 'Mrs. Falchion', and the South Sea +stories published in various journals before the time of its production, +and indeed anterior to the writing of the Pierre series, only assured me +attention. + +Happily for the book, which has faults of construction, superficialities +as to incident, and with some crudity of plot, it was, in the main, a +study of character. There was focus, there was illumination in the book, +to what degree I will not try to say; and the attempt to fasten the mind +of the reader upon the central figure, and to present that central figure +in many aspects, safeguarded the narrative from the charge of being a +mere novel of adventure, or, as one writer called it, "an impudent +melodrama, which has its own fascinations." + +Reading Mrs. Falchion again after all these years, I seem to realise in +it an attempt to combine the objective and subjective methods of +treatment--to combine analysis of character and motive with arresting +episode. It is a difficult thing to do, as I have found. It was not +done on my part wholly by design, but rather by instinct, and I imagine +that this tendency has run through all my works. It represents the +elements of romanticism and of realism in one, and that kind of +representation has its dangers, to say nothing of its difficulties. +It sometimes alienates the reader, who by instinct and preference is a +realist, and it troubles the reader who wants to read for a story alone, +who cares for what a character does, and not for what a character is or +says, except in so far as it emphasises what it does. One has to work, +however, in one's own way, after one's own idiosyncrasies, and here is +the book that represents one of my own idiosyncrasies in its most +primitive form. + + + +CONTENTS: + +BOOK I + +BELOW THE SUN LINE + +I. THE GATES OF THE SEA + +II. "MOTLEY IS YOUR ONLY WEAR" + +III. A TALE OF NO MAN'S SEA + +IV. THE TRAIL OF THE ISHMAELITE + +V. ACCUSING FACES + +VI. MUMMERS ALL + +VII. THE WHEEL COMES FULL CIRCLE + +VIII. A BRIDGE OF PERIL + +IX. "THE PROGRESS OF THE SUNS" + +X. BETWEEN DAY AND DARK + + + + +BOOK II + +THE SLOPE OF THE PACIFIC + +XI. AMONG THE HILLS OF GOD + +XII. THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME + +XIII. THE SONG OF THE SAW + +XIV. THE PATH OF THE EAGLE + +XV. IN THE TROUGH OF THE WINDS + +XVI. A DUEL IN ARCADY + +XVII. RIDING THE REEFS + +XVIII. THE STRINGS OF DESTINY + +XIX. THE SENTENCE + +XX. AFTER THE STORM + +XXI. IN PORT + + + + +BOOK I + +BELOW THE SUN LINE + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GATES OF THE SEA + +The part I played in Mrs. Falchion's career was not very noble, but I +shall set it forth plainly here, else I could not have the boldness to +write of her faults or those of others. Of my own history little need be +said in preface. Soon after graduating with honours as a physician, I +was offered a professional post in a college of medicine in Canada. It +was difficult to establish a practice in medicine without some capital, +else I had remained in London; and, being in need of instant means, I +gladly accepted the offer. But six months were to intervene before the +beginning of my duties--how to fill that time profitably was the +question. I longed to travel, having scarcely been out of England during +my life. Some one suggested the position of surgeon on one of the great +steamers running between England and Australia. The idea of a long sea- +voyage was seductive, for I had been suffering from over-study, though +the position itself was not very distinguished. But in those days I +cared more for pleasing myself than for what might become a newly-made +professor, and I was prepared to say with a renowned Irish dean: "Dignity +and I might be married, for all the relations we are." + +I secured the position with humiliating ease and humiliating smallness +of pay. The steamer's name was the 'Fulvia'. It was one of the largest +belonging to the Occidental Company. It carried no emigrants and had a +passenger list of fashionable folk. On the voyage out to Australia the +weather was pleasant, save in the Bay of Biscay; there was no sickness +on board, and there were many opportunities for social gaiety, the +cultivation of pleasant acquaintances, and the encouragement of that +brisk idleness which aids to health. This was really the first holiday +in my life, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Nothing of unusual interest +occurred on the outward voyage; for one thing, because there were no +unusual people among the passengers; for another, because the vessel +behaved admirably. The same cannot be said of the return voyage: and +with it my story really begins. Misfortune followed us out of Sydney +harbour. We broke a crank-shaft between there and Port Phillip, +Melbourne; a fire in the hold occurred at Adelaide; and at Albany we +buried a passenger who had died of consumption one day out from King +George's Sound. At Colombo, also, we had a misfortune, but it was of a +peculiar kind, and did not obtrude itself at once; it was found in an +addition to our passenger list. I had spent a day in exploring Colombo-- +visiting Arabi Pasha, inspecting Hindu temples, watching the jugglers and +snake-charmers, evading guides and the sellers of brummagem jewellery, +and idling in the Cinnamon Gardens. I returned to the ship tired out. +After I had done some official duties, I sauntered to the gangway, and, +leaning against the bulwarks, idly watched the passengers come on board +from the tender. Two of these made an impression on me. One was a +handsome and fashionably-dressed woman, who was followed by a maid or +companion (as I fancied), carrying parcels; the other, a shabbily-dressed +man, who was the last to come up from the tender. The woman was going +down the companion-way when he stepped on deck with a single bag in his +hand, and I noticed that he watched her with a strange look in his eyes. +He stood still as he gazed, and remained so for a moment after she had +gone; then he seemed to recover himself, and started, as I thought, +almost guiltily, when he saw that my attention was attracted. He +nervously shifted his bag from one hand to the other, and looked round +as though not certain of where he should go. A steward came to him +officiously, and patronisingly too,--which is the bearing of servants to +shabbily-dressed people,--but he shook his head, caught his bag smartly +away from the steward's fingers, and moved towards the after part of the +ship, reserved for intermediate passengers. As he went he hesitated, +came to the side of the vessel, looked down at the tender for a moment, +cast his eyes to where the anchor was being weighed, made as if he would +go back to the tender, then, seeing that the ladder was now drawn up, +sighed, and passed on to the second-class companion-way, through which he +disappeared. + +I stood commenting idly to myself upon this incident, which, slight +though it was, appeared to have significance of a kind, when Hungerford, +the fifth officer, caught me slyly by the arm and said, "Lucky fellow! +Nothing to do but watch the world go by. I wish I had you in the North +Atlantic on a whaler, or in the No Man's Sea on a pearl-smack for a +matter of thirty days." + +"What would come of that, Hungerford?" said I. + +"An exchange of matter for mind, Marmion; muscle for meditation, physics +for philosophy." + +"You do me too much honour; at present I've neither mind, meditation, +nor philosophy; I am simply vegetating." + +"Which proves you to be demoralised. I never saw a surgeon on a ship +who wasn't. They began with mind--more or less--they ate the fruits of +indolence, got precious near being sinful as well as indolent, and ended +with cheap cynicism, with the old 'quid refert'--the thing Hamlet +plagiarised in his, 'But it is no matter.'" + +"Isn't this an unusual occupation for you, Hungerford--this Swift-like +criticism?" + +"Swift-like, is it? You see, I've practised on many of your race, +Marmion, and I have it pat now. You are all of two classes--those who +sicken in soul and leave after one trip, and those who make another trip +and are lost." + +"Lost? How?" + +Hungerford pressed his fingers hard on my breastbone, looked at me +enigmatically from under his well-hung brows, and replied: "Brains put +out to seed, morals put out to vegetate--that's 'lost.'" + +"What about fifth officers?" + +"Fifth officers work like navvies, and haven't time for foolishness. +They've got to walk the bridge, and practise the boats, and be +responsible for luggage--and here I am talking to you like an infallible +undergraduate, while the lascars are in endless confusion with a half- +dozen pieces of baggage, and the first officer foams because I'm not +there to set them right. I leave you to your dreams. Good-bye." + +Hungerford was younger than myself, but he knew the world, and I was +flattered by these uncommon remarks, because he talked to no one else +on the ship in the same way. He never sought to make friends, had a +thorough contempt for social trifling, and shrugged his shoulders at the +"swagger" of some of the other officers. I think he longed for a +different kind of sea-life, so accustomed had he been to adventurous and +hardy ways. He had entered the Occidental service because he had fallen +in love with a pretty girl, and thought it his duty to become a +"regular," and thus have the chance of seeing her every three months in +London. He had conceived a liking for me, reciprocated on my part; the +more so, because I knew that behind his blunt exterior there was a warm +and manly heart. When he left me I went to my cabin and prepared for +dinner, laughing as I did so at his keen, uncompromising criticism, which +I knew was correct enough; for of all official posts that of a ship- +surgeon is least calculated to make a man take a pride in existence. +At its best, it is assisting in the movement of a panorama; at its worst, +worse than a vegetation. Hungerford's solicitude for myself, however, +was misplaced, because this one voyage would end my career as ship- +surgeon, and, besides, I had not vegetated, but had been interested in +everything that had occurred, humdrum as it was. With these thoughts, +I looked out of the port-hole, to see the shores of Colombo, Galle Face, +and Mount Lavinia fading in the distance, and heard seven bells--the time +for dinner. When I took my seat at the table of which I was the head, my +steward handed to me a slip of paper, saying that the chief steward had +given a new passenger, a lady, the seat at my right hand, which had been +vacated at Colombo. The name on the paper was "Mrs. Falchion." The seat +was still empty, and I wondered if this was the beautiful passenger who +had attracted me and interested the Intermediate Passenger. I was +selfish enough to wish so: and it was so. + +We had finished the soup before she entered. The chief steward, with +that anxious civility which beauty can inspire in even so great a +personage, conducted her to her seat beside me. I confess that though I +was at once absorbed in this occurrence, I noticed also that some of the +ladies present smiled significantly when they saw at whose table Mrs. +Falchion was placed, and looked not a little ironically at the purser, +who, as it was known, always tried to get for his table the newest +addition to the passenger list--when it was a pretty woman. I believe +that one or two rude people chaffed the chief steward about "favouring +the doctor"; but he had a habit of saying uncomfortable things in a +deferential way, and they did not pursue the subject. Then they +commiserated the purser, who was an unpleasant little Jew of an envious +turn of mind; and he, as I was told, likened me to Sir John Falstaff. I +was sensitive in those days, and this annoyed me, particularly that I had +had nothing to do with placing Mrs. Falchion at my table. We are always +most sensitive when guilty concerning the spirit and not the letter. + +One who has lived the cosmopolitan life of London should be quick at +detecting nationalities, but I found it difficult, even after I heard her +speak, to guess at Mrs. Falchion's native land. There were good reasons +for this, as may be duly seen. Her appearance in the saloon caused an +instant buzz of admiration and interest, of which she seemed oblivious. +If it was acting, it was good acting; if it was lack of self- +consciousness, it was remarkable. As I soon came to know, it was the +latter--which, in such a woman, increased the remarkableness. I was +inclined at first to venture the opinion that she was an actress; but I +discovered that she possessed the attracting power of an actress without +the calculated manner of one; her very lack of self-consciousness was +proof of this emancipation. + +When she sat down, I immediately welcomed her by name to my table. +The only surprise she showed at my knowledge of her name and my self- +introduction was to lift her head slightly and look at me, as if +wondering whether I was likely to be an inquisitive and troublesome host; +and also, as I thought, to measure me according to her measure. It was a +quick look, and the interest she showed was of a passive kind. She asked +me as she might an old acquaintance--or a waiter--if the soup was good, +and what the fish was like; decided on my recommendation to wait for the +entrees; requested her next neighbour to pass the olives; in an +impersonal way began to talk about the disadvantages of life at sea; +regretted that all ship food tasted alike; wondered if the cook knew how +to make a Russian salad; and added that the menu was a national +compromise. + +Now that she was close to me, I could see that her beauty was real and +notable. Her features were regular, her eyes of a greyish violet, her +chin strong, yet not too strong--the chin of a singer; her hands had that +charming quiet certainty of movement possessed by so few; and her colour +was of the most delightful health. In this delightful health, in her +bountiful yet perfect physical eloquence, her attractiveness, as it +seemed to me, chiefly lay. For no one would ever have guessed her to +possess an emotional temperament. All that was outer was fascinating, +all that was inner suggested coldness. After experience assured me that +all who came to know her shared this estimate, even in those days when +every man on the ship was willing to be her slave. She had a compelling +atmosphere, a possessive presence; and yet her mind at this time was +unemotional--like Octavia, the wife of Mark Antony, "of a cold +conversation." She was striking and unusual in appearance, and yet well +within convention and "good form." Her dress was simply and modestly +worn, and had little touches of grace and taste which, I understand, many +ladies on board sought to imitate, when they recovered from the first +feeling of envy. + +She was an example of splendid life. I cared to look at her as one would +dwell on the sleek beauty of a deer--as, indeed, I have many a time since +then, in India, watched a tigress asleep on her chain, claws hidden, wild +life latent but slumbering. I could have staked my life that Mrs. +Falchion was insensible to love or passion, and unimpeachable in the +broad scheme of right and wrong; imperious in requiring homage, incapable +of giving it. I noticed when she laughed, as she did once at table, that +her teeth were very white and small and square; and, like a schoolgirl, +she had a habit of clicking them together very lightly, but not +conspicuously, as if trying their quality. This suggested, however, +something a little cruel. Her appetite was very good. She was coolly +anxious about the amusements; she asked me if I could get her a list of +the passengers, said that she was never sea-sick, and took a languid +interest in the ladies present. Her glance at the men was keen at first, +then neutral. + +Once again, during the meal, she slowly turned and flashed an inquiring +glance at me. I caught her eyes. She did not show the least +embarrassment, and asked me if the band insisted on playing every day. +Before she left the saloon, one could see that many present were talking +about her. Even the grim old captain followed her with his eyes as she +went. When she rose, I asked her if she was going on deck. I did it +casually, as though it was her usual custom to appear there after dinner. +In like fashion she replied that her maid had some unpacking to do, she +had some things to superintend, and, when this was done, she intended to +spend a time on deck. Then, with a peculiar smile, she passed out. + + [Note by Dr. Marmion appended to his MSS.:--"Many of the + conversations and monologues in this history, not heard by myself + when they occurred, were told to me afterwards, or got from the + diaries and notes of the persons concerned. Only a few are purely + imaginary."] + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"MOTLEY IS YOUR ONLY WEAR" + +I went to my cabin, took a book, sat down, and began to smoke. My +thoughts drifted from the book, and then occurred a strange, incongruous +thing. It was a remembered incident. It came like a vision as I was +lighting a fresh cigar: + +A boy and a girl in a village chemist's shop; he with a boy's love for +her, she responding in terms, but not in fact. He passed near her +carrying a measure of sulphuric acid. She put out her hand suddenly and +playfully, as though to bar his way. His foot slipped on the oily floor, +and the acid spilled on his hands and the skirt of her dress. He turned +instantly and plunged his hands into a measure of alcohol standing near +before the acid had more than slightly scalded them. She glanced at his +startled face; hers was without emotion. She looked down, and said +petulantly: "You have spoiled my dress; I cannot go into the street." + +The boy's clothes were burnt also. He was poor, and to replace them must +be a trial to him; her father owned the shop, and was well-to-do. Still, +he grieved most that she should be annoyed, though he saw her injustice. +But she turned away and left him. + +Another scene then crossed the disc of smoke: + +The boy and girl, now man and woman, standing alone in the chemist's +shop. He had come out of the big working world, after travel in many +countries. His fame had come with him. She was to be married the next +day to a seller of purple and fine linen. He was smiling a good-bye, and +there was nothing of the old past in the smile. The flame now was in her +eyes, and she put out both her hands to stop him as he turned to go; +but his face was passionless. "You have spoiled my heart," she said; +"I cannot go into the world so." + +"It is too late; the measures are empty," he replied. + +"I love you to-day, I will loathe you to-morrow," was the answer. + +But he turned and left her, and she blindly stretched out her hands and +followed him into the darkness, weeping. + +Was it the scent of the chemicals in my cabin, coupled with some +subterranean association of things, which brought these scenes vividly +before me at this moment? What had they to do with Mrs. Falchion? + +A time came when the occurrence appeared to me in the light of +prescience, but that was when I began to understand that all ideas, all +reason and philosophy, are the result of outer impression. The primal +language of our minds is in the concrete. Afterwards it becomes the +cypher, and even at its highest it is expressed by angles, lines, and +geometrical forms--substances and allusive shapes. But now, as the scene +shifted by, I had involuntarily thrust forward my hands as did the girl +when she passed out into the night, and, in doing so, touched the curtain +of my cabin door swinging in towards me. I recovered myself, and a man +timidly stepped inside, knocking as he did so. It was the Intermediate +Passenger. His face was pale; he looked ill. + +Poor as his dress was, I saw that he had known the influences and +practised the graces of good society, though his manner was hesitating +and anxious now. I knew at a glance that he was suffering from both +physical pain and mental worry. Without a word, I took his wrist and +felt his pulse, and he said: "I thought I might venture to come--" + +I motioned him not to speak. I counted the irregular pulse-beats, +then listened to the action of his heart, with my ear to his breast. +There lay his physical trouble. I poured out a dose of digitalis, and, +handing it to him, asked him to sit down. As he sat and drank the +medicine, I rapidly studied him. The chin was firm, and the eyes had a +dogged, persistent look that, when turned on you, saw not you, but +something beyond you. The head was thrown slightly forward, the eyes +looking up at an angle. This last action was habitual with him. It gave +him a peculiar earnestness. As I noted these peculiarities, my mind was +also with his case; I saw that his life was threatened. Perhaps he +guessed what was going on in me, for he said in a low, cultured voice: +"The wheels will stop too long some time, and there will be no rebound;" +--referring to the irregular action of his heart. + +"Perhaps that is true," I said; "yet it depends a good deal upon yourself +when it will be. Men can die if they wish without committing suicide. +Look at the Maori, the Tongan, the Malay. They can also prolong life +(not indefinitely, but in a case like yours considerably), if they +choose. You can lengthen your days if you do not brood on fatal things +--fatal to you; if you do not worry yourself into the grave." + +I knew that something of this was platitude, and that counsel to such a +man must be of a more possible cast, if it is to be followed. I was +aware also that, in nine cases out of ten, worry is not a voluntary or +constitutional thing, but springs from some extraneous cause. + +He smiled faintly, raised his head a little higher, and said: +"Yes, that's just it, I suppose; but then we do not order our own +constitutions; and I believe, Doctor, that you must kill a nerve before +it ceases to hurt. One doesn't choose to worry, I think, any more than +one chooses to lay bare a nerve." And then his eyes dropped, as if he +thought he had already said too much. + +Again I studied him, repeating my definitions in my mind. He was not a +drunkard; he might have had no vice, so free was his face from any sign +of dissipation or indulgence; but there was suffering, possibly the marks +of some endured shame. The suffering and shadows showed the more because +his features were refined enough for a woman. And altogether it struck +me that he was possessed by some one idea, which gave his looks a kind of +sorrowful eloquence, such as one sees on occasion in the face of a great +actor like Salvini, on the forehead of a devout Buddhist, or in the eyes +of a Jesuit missionary who martyrs himself in the wilds. + +I felt at once for the man a sympathy, a brotherliness, the causes of +which I should be at a loss to trace. Most people have this experience +at one time or another in their lives. It is not a matter of sex; it may +be between an old man and a little child, a great man and a labourer, a +schoolgirl and an old native woman. There is in such companionships less +self-interest than in any other. As I have said, I thought that this man +had a trouble, and I wished to know it; not from curiosity,--though my +mind had a selfish, inquiring strain,--but because I hoped I might be +able to help him in some way. I put my hand on his shoulder, and +replied: "You will never be better unless you get rid of your worry." + +He drew in a sharp breath, and said: "I know that. I am afraid I shall +never be better." + +There was a silence in which we looked at each other steadily, and then +he added, with an intense but quiet misery: "Never--never!" + +At that he moved his hand across his forehead wearily, rose, and turned +toward the door. He swayed as he did so, and would have fallen, but I +caught him as he lost consciousness, and laid him on the cabin sofa. I +chafed his hands, unloosed his collar, and opened the bosom of his shirt. +As the linen dropped away from his throat, a small portrait on ivory was +exposed on his breast. I did not look closely at it then, but it struck +me that the woman's head in the portrait was familiar, though the +artistic work was not recent, and the fashion of the hair was of years +before. When his eyes opened, and he felt his neck bare, he hurriedly +put up his hand and drew the collar close, and at the same time sent a +startled and inquiring look at me. After a few moments I helped him to +his feet, and, thanking me more with a look than with words, he turned +towards the door again. + +"Wait," I said, "until I give you some medicine, and then you shall take +my arm to your cabin." With a motion of the hand, signifying the +uselessness of remedies, he sat down again. As I handed him the phial, I +continued: "I know that it is none of my business, but you are suffering. +To help your body, your mind should be helped also. Can't you tell me +your trouble? Perhaps I should be able to serve you. I would if I +could." + +It may be that I spoke with a little feeling and an apparent honesty; +for his eyes searched mine in a kind of earnest bewilderment, as if this +could not be true--as if, indeed, life had gone so hard with him that he +had forgotten the way of kindness. Then he stretched out his hand and +said brokenly: "I am grateful, believe me. I cannot tell you just now, +but I will soon, perhaps." His hand was upon the curtain of the door, +when my steward's voice was heard outside, calling my name. The man +himself entered immediately, and said that Mrs. Falchion sent her +compliments, and would I come at once to see her companion, Miss Caron, +who had injured herself. + +The Intermediate Passenger turned towards me a strange look; his lips +opened as if about to speak, but he said nothing. At the instant there +came to my mind whom the picture on his breast resembled: it was Mrs. +Falchion. + +I think he saw this new intelligence in my face, and a meaning smile took +the place of words, as he slowly left the cabin, mutely refusing +assistance. + +I went to Mrs. Falchion's cabin, and met her outside the door. She +looked displeased. "Justine has hurt herself," she said. "Please attend +to her; I am going on deck." + +The unfeeling nature of this remark held me to the spot for a moment; +then I entered the cabin. Justine Caron, a delicate but warm-faced girl +of little more than twenty, was sitting on the cabin sofa, her head +supported against the wall, and her hand wound in a handkerchief soaked +in blood. Her dress and the floor were also stained. I undid the +handkerchief and found an ugly wound in the palm of the hand. I called +the steward, and sent him to my dispensary for some necessaries; then I +asked her how it happened. At the moment I saw the cause--a broken +bottle lying on the floor. "The ship rolled," she said. "The bottle +fell from the shelf upon the marble washstand, and, breaking, from there +to the floor. Madame caught at my arm to save herself from falling; but +I slipped, and was cut on the bottle--so." + +As she ended there was a knock, but the curtain was not drawn, and Mrs. +Falchion's voice was heard. "My dress is stained, Justine." + +The half-fainting girl weakly replied: "I am very sorry, madame, indeed." + +To this Mrs. Falchion rejoined: "When you have been attended to, you may +go to bed, Justine. I shall not want you again to-night. But I shall +change my dress. It is so unpleasant; I hate blood. I hope you will be +well in the morning." + +To this Justine replied: "Ah, madame, I am sorry. I could not help it; +but I shall be quite well in the morning, I am sure." Then she added +quietly to me: "The poor madame! She will not see suffering. She hates +pain. Sickness troubles her. Shall I be able to use my hand very soon, +monsieur?" + +There was a wistful look in her eyes, and guessing why it was there, I +said: "Yes, soon, I hope--in a few days, no doubt." + +Her face lighted up, and she said: "Madame likes about her people who are +happy and well." Then, as if she might have said too much, she hurriedly +added: "But she is very kind;" and, stooping down quickly, her face +whitening with the effort, she caught up the broken glass and threw it +through the port-hole into the sea. + +A half-hour later I went on deck, and found Mrs. Falchion comfortably +seated in her deck-chair. I brought a stool over, and sat down beside +her. To this hour the quickness with which I got upon friendly terms +with her astonishes me. + +"Justine is better?" she said, and her hand made a slight motion of +disgust. + +"Yes. She was not dangerously hurt, of course." + +"Let us change the subject, please. They are going to have a fancy-dress +ball on board, I believe, before we get to Aden. How tiresome! Isn't it +a little affectation on the part of the stage-struck committee? Isn't +it--inconsequent?" + +"That depends," I said vaguely, inviting a question. She idled with a +book in her lap. + +"On what?" + +"On those who go, what costumes are worn, and how much beauty and art +appear." + +"But the trouble! Does it pay? What return does one get?" + +"If all admire, half are envious, some are jealous, and one is devoted-- +isn't that enough?" I think I was a fool that night. + +"You seem to understand women," she said, with a puzzling and not quite +satisfactory smile. "Yes, all that is something." + +Though I was looking at the sea rather than at her, I saw again that +inquiring look in her eyes--such a measuring look as a recruiting +sergeant might give a victim of the Queen's shilling. + +After a moment's pause she continued, I thought, abstractedly: "As what +should you go?" + +I answered lightly and without premeditation, "As Caius Cassius. Why +should you not appear as Portia?" + +She lifted her eyebrows at me. + +"As Portia?" + +"As Portia, the wife of Brutus," I blundered on, at the same time +receiving her permission, by a nod, to light my cigar. + +"The pious, love-sick wife of Brutus!" This in a disdainful tone, and +the white teeth clicked softly together. + +"Yes, a good disguise," I said banteringly, though I fancy somewhat +tentatively also, and certainly with a touch of rudeness. I was thinking +at that moment of the Intermediate Passenger, and I was curious. + +"And you think of going in the disguise of a gentleman? Caius Cassius +was that, wasn't he?" she retorted in an ironical tone. + +"I suppose he was, though he was punished once for rudeness," I replied +apologetically. + +"Quite so," was the decisive reply. + +I felt that she was perfectly cool, while I was a little confused, and +ashamed too, that I had attempted to be playfully satirical. And so, +wondering what I should say next, I remarked in desperation: "Do you like +the sea?" + +"I am never ill at sea," was her reply. "But I do not really like it; +it is treacherous. The land would satisfy me if--" She paused. + +"Yes, Mrs. Falchion--'if'?" + +"If I did not wish to travel," she vaguely added, looking blandly at me. + +"You have travelled much?" I ventured. + +"A great deal;" and again I saw that scrutiny in her eyes. It occurred +to me at the moment that she might think I possessed some previous +knowledge of her. + +My mind became occupied again with the Intermediate Passenger and the +portrait that he wore at his neck. I almost laughed to think of the +melodramatic turn which my first conversation with this woman might +chance to take. I felt that I was dealing with one who was able to meet +cleverly any advance of mine, but I determined to lead the talk into as +deep waters as possible. + +"I suppose, too, you are a good practical sailor--that is, you understand +seamanship, if you have travelled much?" I do not know why I said that, +for it sounded foolish to me afterwards. + +"Pretty well," she replied. "I can manage a sail; I know the argot, +I could tell the shrouds from the bulwarks, and I've rowed a boat in +a choppy sea." + +"It is not an accomplishment usual to your sex." + +"It was ordinary enough where I spent the early part of my life," was the +idle reply; and she settled herself more comfortably in her chair. + +"Yes? May I ask where that was?" and as I said this, it occurred to me +that she was, perhaps, leading me on, instead of my leading her; to +betray me as to anything I knew about her. + +"In the South Seas," she replied. "My father was a British consul in the +Islands." + +"You have not come from the Islands now, I suppose?" + +"No," she said a little more softly; "it is years since I was in Samoa. +. . . My father is buried there." + +"You must have found it a romantic life in those half-barbaric places?" + +She shifted in her chair. "Romantic!" Her tone conveyed a very slight +uneasiness and vagueness. "I am afraid you must ask some one else about +that sort of thing. I did not see much romance, but I saw plenty that +was half-barbaric." Here she laughed slightly. + +Just then I saw the lights of a vessel far off. "See--a vessel!" I said; +and I watched the lights in silence, but thinking. I saw that she too +was watching idly. + +At length, as if continuing the conversation, I said: "Yes, I suppose +life must be somewhat adventurous and dangerous among savage people like +the Samoans, Tongans, and Fijians?" + +"Indeed, then," she replied decisively, "you are not to suppose anything +of the kind. The danger is not alone for the white people." + +At this I appeared, as I really was, interested, and begged her to +explain what she meant. She thought a moment, and then briefly, but +clearly, sketched the life of those islands, showing how, in spite of +missionary labour selfish and unselfish, the native became the victim of +civilisation, the prey of the white trader and beachcomber, who were +protected by men-of-war with convincing Nordenfeldt and Hotchkiss guns; +how the stalwart force of barbaric existence declined, and with it the +crude sense of justice, the practice of communism at its simplest and +purest, the valour of nationality. These phrases are my own--the +substance, not the fashion, of her speech. + +"You do not, then," I said, "believe wholly in the unselfishness of +missionaries, the fair dealing of traders, the perfect impartiality of +justice, as shown through steel-clad cruisers?" + +"I have seen too much to be quite fair in judgment, I fear, even to men- +of-war's men;" and she paused, listening to a song which came from the +after-part of the ship. The air was very still, and a few of the words +of the droll, plaintive ditty came to us. + +Quartermaster Stone, as he passed us, hummed it, and some voices of the +first-class passengers near joined in the refrain: + + "Sing, hey, for a rover on the sea, + And the old world!" + +Some days later I got all of the song from one of the intermediate +passengers, and the last verse of it I give here: + + "I'm a-sailing, I'm a-sailing on the sea, + To a harbour where the wind is still; + Oh, my dearie, do you wait for me? + Oh, my dearie, do you love me still? + Sing, hey, for a rover on the sea, + And the old world!" + +I noticed that Mrs. Falchion's brow contracted as the song proceeded, +making a deep vertical line between the eyes, and that the fingers of the +hand nearest me closed on the chair-arm firmly. The hand attracted me. +It was long, the fingers were shapely, but not markedly tapering, and +suggested firmness. I remarked afterward, when I chanced to shake hands +with her, that her fingers enclosed one's hand; it was not a mere touch +or pressure, but an unemotional and possessive clasp. I felt sure that +she had heard the song before, else it had not produced even this so +slight effect on her nerves. I said: "It is a quaint song. I suppose +you are familiar with it and all of its kind?" + +"I fancy I have heard it somewhere," she answered in a cold voice. + +I am aware that my next question was not justified by our very short +acquaintance; but this acquaintance had been singular from its beginning, +and it did not seem at that moment as it looks on paper; besides, I had +the Intermediate Passenger in my mind. "Perhaps your husband is a naval +man?" I asked. + +A faint flush passed over her face, and then, looking at me with a +neutral expression and some reserve of manner, she replied: "My husband +was not a naval man." + +She said "was not." That implied his death. + +There was no trouble in her manner; I could detect no sign of excitement. +I turned to look at the lights of the approaching vessel, and there, +leaning against the railing that divided the two decks, was the +Intermediate Passenger. He was looking at us intently. A moment after +he disappeared. Beyond doubt there was some intimate association between +these two. + +My thoughts were, however, distracted by our vessel signalling the other. +Hungerford was passing just then, and I said: "Have you any idea what +vessel it is, Hungerford?" + +"Yes, man-of-war 'Porcupine', bound for Aden, I think." + +Mrs. Falchion at this laughed strangely, as she leaned forward looking, +and then, rising quickly, said: "I prefer to walk." + +"May I accompany you?" I asked. + +She inclined her head, and we joined the promenaders. The band was +playing, and, for a ship-band, playing very well, the ballet music of +Delibes' 'Sylvia'. The musicians had caught that unaccentuated and +sensuous swing of the melody which the soft, tropical atmosphere rendered +still more languorous. With Mrs. Falchion's hand upon my arm, I felt a +sense of capitulation to the music and to her, uncanny in its suddenness. +At this distance of time it seems to me absurd. I had once experienced +something of the same feeling with the hand of a young medical student, +who, skilled in thought-reading, discovered the number of a bank-note +that was in my mind. + +This woman had an attractiveness compelling and delightful, at least in +its earlier application to me. Both professionally and socially I have +been brought into contact with women of beauty and grace, but never one +who, like Mrs. Falchion, being beautiful, seemed so unconscious of the +fact, so indifferent to those about her, so untouched by another's +emotion, so lacking in sensitiveness of heart; and who still drew people +to her. I am speaking now of the earlier portion of our acquaintance; +of her as she was up to this period in her life. + +I was not alone in this opinion of her, for, as time went on, every +presentable man and woman on the boat was introduced to her; and if some +women criticised and some disliked her, all acknowledged her talent and +her imperial attraction. Among the men her name was never spoken but +with reserve and respect, and her afternoon teas were like a little +court. She had no compromising tenderness of manner for man or woman; +she ruled, yet was unapproachable through any avenues of sentiment. She +had a quiet aplomb, which would be called 'sang-froid' in a man. + +"Did you ever see a Spanish-Mexican woman dance?" she asked in one of +the pauses of the music. + +"Never: never any good dancing, save what one gets at a London theatre." + +"That is graceful," she said, "but not dancing. You have heard of music +stirring the blood; of savage races--and others--working themselves up to +ecstatic fury? Maybe you have seen the Dervishes, or the Fijians, or the +Australian aboriginals? No? Well, I have, and I have seen--which is so +much more--those Spanish-Mexican women dance. Did you ever see anything +so thrilling, so splendid, that you felt you must possess it?"--She asked +me that with her hand upon my arm!--"Well, that is it. I have felt that +way towards a horse which has won a great race, and to a woman who has +carried me with her through the fantastic drama of her dance, until she +stood at the climax, head thrown back, face glowing--a statue. It is +grand to be eloquent like that, not in words, but in person." + +In this was the key to her own nature. Body and mind she was free +from ordinary morbidness, unless her dislike of all suffering was morbid. +With her this was a dislike of any shock to the senses. She was selfish +at all points. + +These conclusions were pursued at the expense of speech on my part. At +first she did not appear to regard my silence. She seemed to have +thoughts of her own; but she shook them off with a little firm motion of +the shoulders, and, with the assumption of a demureness of manner and an +airy petulance, said: "Well, amuse me." + +"Amuse you?" was my reply. "Delighted to do so if I can. How?" + +"Talk to me," was the quick response. + +"Would that accomplish the purpose?" This in a tone of mock protest. + +"Please don't be foolish, Dr. Marmion. I dislike having to explain. +Tell me things." + +"About what?" + +"Oh, about yourself--about people you have met, and all that; for I +suppose you have seen a good deal and lived a good deal." + +"About hospital cases?" I said a little maliciously. + +"No, please, no! I abhor everything that is sick and poor and miserable." + +"Well," said I, at idle venture, "if not a hospital, what about a gaol?" + +I felt the hand on my arm twitch slightly, and then her reply came. + +"I said I hated everything that was wretched and wicked. You are either +dense, or purposely irritating." + +"Well, then, a college?" + +"A college? Yes, that sounds better. But I do not wish descriptions +of being 'gated,' or 'sent down,' or 'ploughed,' and that kind of +commonplace. I should prefer, unless your vanity leads you irresistibly +in that direction, something with mature life and amusement; or, at +least, life and incident, and good sport--if you do not dwell on the +horrors of killing." + +On the instant there came to me the remembrance of Professor Valiant's +wife. I think it was not what she wanted; but I had a purpose, and I +began: + +"Every one at St. Luke's admired and respected Professor Valiant's wife, +she was so frank and cordial and prettily downright. In our rooms we all +called her a good chap, and a dashed good chap when her husband happened +to be rustier than usual. He was our professor in science. It was the +general belief that he chose science for his life-work because it gave +unusual opportunities for torture. He was believed to be a devoted +vivisectionist; he certainly had methods of cruelty, masterly in their +ingenuity. He could make a whole class raw with punishment in a few +words; and many a scorching bit of Latin verse was written about his +hooked nose and fishy eye. + +"But his highest talents in this direction were reserved for his wife. +His distorted idea of his own importance made him view her as a chattel, +an inferior being; the more so, I believe, because she brought him little +money when he married her. She was too much the woman to pretend to +kneel to him, and because she would not be his slave, she had a hard time +of it. He began by insisting that she should learn science, that she +might assist him in his experiments. She knew that she had no taste for +it, that it was no part of her wifely duty, and she did what suited her +better--followed the hounds. It was a picture to see her riding across +country. She could take a fence with a sound hunter like a bird. And so +it happened that, after a time, they went their own ways pretty well; he +ignoring her, neglecting her, deprecating her by manner, if not by +speech, and making her life more than uncomfortable. + +"She was always kind to me. I was the youngest chap in the college, and +was known as 'Marmy' by every one; and because I was fonder of science +than most other men in the different years, Valiant was more gracious to +me than the rest, though I did not like him. One day, when I called, +I heard her say to him, not knowing that I was near: 'Whatever you feel, +or however you act towards me in private, I will have respect when others +are present.' + +"It was the custom for the professors to invite each student to luncheon +or dinner once during term-time. Being somewhat of a favourite of both +Professor and Mrs. Valiant however, I lunched with them often. I need +hardly say that I should not have exceeded the regulation once had it not +been for Mrs. Valiant. The last time I went is as clear in my memory as +if it were yesterday. Valiant was more satirical and cold-blooded than +usual. I noticed a kind of shining hardness in his wife's eyes, which +gave me a strange feeling; yet she was talkative and even gay, I thought, +while I more than once clinched my fist under the table, so much did I +want to pummel him; for I was a lover of hers, in a deferential, boyish +way. + +"At last, knowing that she liked the hunt, I asked her if she was going +to the meet on the following Saturday, saying that I intended to follow, +having been offered a horse. With a steely ring to her voice, and a +further brightening of the eyes, she said: 'You are a stout little +sportsman, Marmy. Yes, I am going on Major Karney's big horse, Carbine.' + +"Valiant looked up, half sneering, half doubtful, I thought, and +rejoined: 'Carbine is a valuable horse, and the fences are stiff in the +Garston country.' + +"She smiled gravely, then, with her eyes fixed on her husband, said: +'Carbine is a perfect gentleman. He will do what I ask him. I have +ridden him.' + +"'The devil you have!' he replied. + +"'I am sure,' said I, as I hoped, bravely, and not a little +enthusiastically, 'that Carbine would take any fence you asked him.' + +"'Or not, as the case might be. Thank you, Marmy, for the compliment,' +she said. + +"'A Triton among minnows,' remarked Valiant, not entirely under his +breath; 'horses obey, and students admire, and there is no end to her +greatness.' + +"'There is an end to everything, Edward,' she remarked a shade sadly and +quietly. + +"He turned to me and said: 'Science is a great study, Marmion, but it is +sardonic too; for you shall find that when you reduce even a Triton to +its original elements--' + +"'Oh, please let me finish,' she interrupted softly. 'I know the lecture +so well. It reads this way: "The place of generation must break to give +place to the generated; but the influence spreads out beyond the +fragments, and is greater thus than in the mass--neither matter nor mind +can be destroyed. The earth was molten before it became cold rock and +quiet world." There, you see, Marmy, that I am a fellow-student of +yours.' + +"Valiant's eyes were ugly to watch; for she had quoted from a lecture of +his, delivered to us that week. After an instant he said, with slow +maliciousness: 'Oh, ye gods, render me worthy of this Portia, and teach +her to do as Brutus's Portia did, ad eternum!' + +"She shuddered a little, then said very graciously, and as if he had +meant nothing but kindness: 'Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks.' +I will leave you now to your cigarettes; and because I must go out soon, +and shall not, I fear, see you again this afternoon, good-bye, Marmy, +till Saturday--till Saturday.' And she left us. + +"I was white and trembling with anger. He smiled coolly, and was +careful to choose me one of his best cigars, saying as he handed it: +'Conversation is a science, Marmion. Study it; there is solid +satisfaction in it; it is the only art that brings instant pleasure. +Like the stage, it gets its immediate applause.' + +"Well, Mrs. Valiant did ride Carbine on that Saturday. Such a scene it +was! I see it now--the mottled plump of hounds upon the scent, the +bright sun showing up the scarlet coats of the whips gloriously, the long +stride of the hunters, ears back and quarters down! She rode Carbine, +and the fences WERE stiff--so stiff that I couldn't have taken half of +them. Afterward I was not sorry that I couldn't; for she rode for a fall +that day on Carbine, her own horse, she had bought him of Major Karney a +few days before,--and I heard her last words as she lay beside him, +smiling through the dreadful whiteness of her lips. 'Goodbye, Marmy,' +she whispered. 'Carbine and I go together. It is better so, in the full +cry and a big field. Tell the men at Luke's that I hope they will pass +at the coming exams. . . . I am going up--for my final--Marmy.-- +I wonder--if I'll--pass.' And then the words froze on her lips. + +"It was persecution that did it--diabolical persecution and selfishness. +That was the worst day the college ever knew. At the funeral, when the +provost read, 'For that it hath pleased Thee to deliver this our sister +out of the miseries of this sinful world,' Big Wallington, the wildest +chap among the grads, led off with a gulp in his throat, and we all +followed. And that gold-spectacled sneak stood there, with a lying +white handkerchief at his eyes. + +"I laid myself out to make the college too hot for him. In a week I had +every man in the place with me, and things came to such a pass that all +of us must be sent down, or Valiant resign. He resigned. He found +another professorship; but the thing followed him, and he was obliged to +leave the country." + +When I finished the story, Mrs. Falchion was silent for a time, then, +with a slight air of surprise, and in a quite critical way, she said: +"I should think you would act very well, if you used less emotion. Mrs. +Valiant had a kind of courage, but she was foolish to die. She should +have stayed and fought him--fought him every way, until she was his +master. She could have done it; she was clever, I should think. +Still, if she had to die, it was better to go with a good horse that way. +I think I should prefer to go swiftly, suddenly, but without the horror +of blood and bruises, and that sort of thing. . . . I should like to +meet Professor Valiant. He was hard, but he was able too. . . . But +haven't we had enough of horror? I asked you to amuse me, and you have +merely interested me instead. Oh!--" + +This exclamation, I thought, was caused by the voice of the quartermaster +humming: + + "I'm a-sailing, I'm a-sailing on the sea, + To a harbour where the wind is still"-- + +Almost immediately she said: "I think I will go below." Then, after a +slight pause: "This is a liberal acquaintance for one day, Dr. Marmion; +and, you know, we were not introduced." + +"No, Mrs. Falchion, we were not introduced; but I am in some regards +your host, and I fear we should all be very silent if we waited for +regular introductions here. The acquaintance gives me pleasure, but it +is not nearly so liberal as I hope it may become." + +She did not answer, but smiled at me over her shoulder as she passed down +the staircase, and the next instant I could have bitten my tongue for +playing the cavalier as I had done; for showing, as I think I did, that +she had an influence over me--an influence peculiar to herself, and +difficult to account for when not in her presence. + +I sat down, lit a cigar, and went over in my mind all that had been said +between us; all that had occurred in my cabin after dinner; every minute +since we left Colombo was laid bare to its minutest detail. Lascars +slipped by me in the half-darkness, the voices of two lovers near +alternated with their expressive silences, and from the music saloon +there came the pretty strains of a minuet, played very deftly. Under the +influence of this music my thoughts became less exact; they drifted. My +eyes shifted to the lights of the 'Porcupine' in the distance, and from +them again to the figures passing and repassing me on the deck. The +"All's well" of the look-out seemed to come from an endless distance; the +swish of water against the dividing hull of the 'Fulvia' sounded like a +call to silence from another world; the phosphorescence swimming through +the jarred waters added to the sensation of unreality and dreams. These +dreams grew, till they were broken by a hand placed on my shoulder, and +I saw that one of the passengers, Clovelly, an English novelist, had +dropped out from the promenade to talk with me. He saw my mood, however, +and said quietly: "Give me a light for my cigar, will you? Then, astride +this stool, I'll help you to make inventory of the rest of them. +A pretty study; for, at our best, 'What fools we mortals be!'" + +"'Motley is your only wear,'" was my reply; and for a full half-hour, +which, even for a man, is considerable, we spoke no word, but only nodded +when some one of the promenaders noticed us. There was a bookmaker fresh +from the Melbourne races; an American, Colonel Ryder, whose eloquence had +carried him round the world; a stalwart squatter from Queensland; +a pretty widow, who had left her husband under the sods of Tasmania; +a brace of girls going to join their lovers and be married in England; +a few officers fleeing from India with their livers and their lives; +a family of four lanky lasses travelling "home" to school; a row of +affable ladies, who alternated between envy and gaiety and delight in, +and criticism of, their husbands; a couple of missionaries, preparing +to give us lectures on the infamous gods of the heathen,--gods which, +poor harmless little creatures! might be bought at a few annas a pint at +Aden or Colombo,--and on the Exodus and the Pharaohs--pleasures reserved +for the Red Sea; a commercial traveller, who arranged theatricals, and +cast himself for all the principal parts; a humorous and naive person who +industriously hinted at the opulence of his estates in Ireland; two +stately English ladies of title; a cheerful array of colonial knights and +judges off to Europe for a holiday; and many others, who made little +worlds unto themselves, called cliques by blunt people. + +"To my mind, the most interesting persons on the ship," said Clovelly at +last, "are the bookmaker, Miss Treherne, and the lady with whom you have +just been talking--an exceptional type." + +"An unusual woman, I fancy," was my reply. "But which is Miss Treherne? +I am afraid I am not quite sure." + +He described her and her father, with whom I had talked--a London Q.C., +travelling for his health, a notable man with a taste for science, who +spent his idle hours in reading astronomy and the plays of Euripides. + +"Why not include the father in the list of the most interesting persons?" +I questioned. + +"Because I have met many men like him, but no one quite like his +daughter, or Mrs.--what is her name?" + +"Mrs. Falchion." + +"Or Mrs. Falchion or the bookmaker." + +"What is there so uncommon about Miss Treherne? She had not struck me as +being remarkable." + +"No? Well, of course, she is not striking after the fashion of Mrs. +Falchion. But watch her, study her, and you will find her to be the +perfection of a type--the finest expression of a decorous convention, a +perfect product of social conservatism; unaffected, cheerful, sensitive, +composed, very talented, altogether companionable." + +"Excuse me," I said, laughing, though I was impressed; "that sounds as if +you had been writing about her, and applying to her the novelist's system +of analysis, which makes an imperfect individual a perfect type. Now, +frankly, are you speaking of Miss Treherne, or of some one of whom she is +the outline, as it were?" + +Clovelly turned and looked at me steadily. "When you consider a +patient," he said, "do you arrange a diagnosis of a type or of a person? +--And, by the way, 'type' is a priggish word." + +"I consider the type in connection with the person." + +"Exactly. The person is the thing. That clears up the matter of +business and art. But now, as to Miss Treherne: I want to say that, +having been admitted to her acquaintance and that of her father, I have +thought of them only as friends, and not as 'characters' or 'copy.'" + +"I beg your pardon, Clovelly," said I. "I might have known." + +"Now, to prove how magnanimous I am, I shall introduce you to Miss +Treherne, if you will let me. You've met her father, I suppose?" +he added, and tossed his cigar overboard. + +"Yes, I have talked with him. He is a courteous and able man, I should +think." + +We rose. Presently he continued: "See, Miss Treherne is sitting there +with the Tasmanian widow--what is HER name?" + +"Mrs. Callendar," I replied. "Blackburn, the Queenslander, is joining +them." + +"So much the better," he said. "Come on." + +As we passed the music saloon, we paused for an instant to look through +the port-hole at a pale-faced girl with big eyes and a wonderful bright +red dress, singing "The Angels' Serenade," while an excitable bear-leader +turned her music for her. Near her stood a lanky girl who adored actors +and tenors, and lived in the hope of meeting some of those gentlemen of +the footlights, who plough their way so calmly through the hearts of +maidens fresh from school. + +We drew back to go on towards Miss Treherne, when Hungerford touched me +on the arm, and said: "I want to see you for a little while, Marmion, if +Mr. Clovelly will excuse you." + +I saw by Hungerford's face that he had something of importance to say, +and, linking my arm in his, I went with him to his cabin, which was near +those of the intermediate passengers. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A TALE OF NO MAN'S SEA + +Inside the cabin Hungerford closed the door, gripped me by the arm, and +then handed me a cheroot, with the remark: "My pater gave them to me last +voyage home. Have kept 'em in tea." And then he added, with no +appearance of consecutiveness: "Hang the bally ship, anyhow!" + +I shall not attempt to tone down the crudeness of Hungerford's language. +It contents me to think that the solidity of his character and his worth +will appear even through the crust of free-and-easy idioms, as they will +certainly be seen in his acts;--he was sound at heart and true as steel. + +"What is the matter, Hungerford?" I asked lighting the cheroot. + +"Everything's the matter. Captain, with his nose in the air, and +trusting all round to his officers. First officer, no good--never any +use since they poured the coal on him. Purser, ought to be on a Chinese +junk. Second, third, fourth officers, first-rate chaps, but so-so +sailors. Doctor, frivolling with a lovely filly, pedigree not known. +Why, confound it! nobody takes this business seriously except the +captain, and he sits on a golden throne. He doesn't know that in any +real danger this swagger craft would be filled with foolishness. +There isn't more than one good boat's crew on board--sailors, lascars, +stewards, and all. As for the officers, if the surgeon would leave the +lovely ladies to themselves, he'd find cases worth treating, and duties +worth doing. He should keep himself fit for shocks. And he can take my +word for it--for I've been at sea since I was a kid, worse luck!--that a +man with anything to do on a ship ought to travel every day nose out for +shipwreck next day, and so on, port to port. Ship-surgeons, as well as +all other officers, weren't ordained to follow after cambric skirts and +lace handkerchiefs at sea. Believe me or not as you like, but, for a man +having work to do, woman, lovely woman, is rocks. Now, I suppose you'll +think I'm insolent, for I'm younger than you are, Marmion, but you know +what a rough-and-tumble fellow I am, and you'll not mind." + +"Well, Hungerford," I said, "to what does this lead?" + +"To Number 116 Intermediate, for one thing. It's letting off steam for +another. I tell you, Marmion, these big ships are too big. There are +those canvas boats. They won't work; you can't get them together. +You couldn't launch one in an hour. And as for the use of the others, +the lascars would melt like snow in any real danger. There's about one +decent boat's crew on the ship, that's all. There! I've unburdened +myself; I feel better." + +Presently he added, with a shake of the head: "See here: now-a-days we +trust too much to machinery and chance, and not enough to skill of hand +and brain stuff. I'd like to show you some of the crews I've had in the +Pacific and the China Sea--but I'm at it again! I'll now come, Marmion, +to the real reason why I brought you here. . . . Number 116 +Intermediate is under the weather; I found him fainting in the passage. +I helped him into his cabin. He said he'd been to you to get medicine, +and you'd given him some. Now, the strange part of the business is, I +know him. He didn't remember me, however--perhaps because he didn't get +a good look at me. Coincidence is a strange thing. I can point to a +dozen in my short life, every one as remarkable, if not as startling, as +this. Here, I'll spin you a yarn: + +"It happened four years ago. I had no moustache then, was fat like a +whale, and first mate on the 'Dancing Kate', a pearler in the Indian Ocean, +between Java and Australia. That was sailing, mind you--real seamanship, +no bally nonsense; a fight every weather, interesting all round. If it +wasn't a deadly calm, it was a typhoon; if it wasn't either, it was want +of food and water. I've seen us with pearls on board worth a thousand +quid, and not a drop of water nor three square meals in the caboose. But +that was life for men and not Miss Nancys. If they weren't saints, they +were sailors, afraid of nothing but God Almighty--and they do respect +Him, even when they curse the winds and the sea. Well, one day we were +lying in the open sea, about two hundred and fifty miles from Port +Darwin. There wasn't a breath of air. The sea was like glass; the sun +was drawing turpentine out of every inch of the 'Dancing Kate'. The world +was one wild blister. There wasn't a comfortable spot in the craft, and +all round us was that staring, oily sea. It was too hot to smoke, and I +used to make a Sede boy do my smoking for me. I got the benefit of the +smell without any work. I was lying under the droop of a dingey, making +the Sede boy call on all his gods for wind, with interludes of smoke, +when he chucked his deities and tobacco, and, pointing, shouted, 'Man! +man!' + +"I snatched a spy-glass. Sure enough, there was a boat on the water. +It was moving ever so slowly. It seemed to stop, and we saw something +lifted and waved, and then all was still again. I got a boat's crew +together, and away we went in that deadly smother. An hour's row and we +got within hail of the derelict--as one of the crew said, 'feelin' as if +the immortal life was jerked out of us.' The dingey lay there on the +glassy surface, not a sign of life about her. Yet I had, as I said, seen +something waved. The water didn't even lap its sides. It was ghostly, +I can tell you. Our oars licked the water; they didn't attack it. Now, +I'm going to tell you something, Marmion, that'll make you laugh. I +don't think I've got any poetry in me, but just then I thought of some +verses I learned when I was a little cove at Wellington--a devilishly +weird thing. It came to me at that moment like a word in my ear. It +made me feel awkward for a second. All sailors are superstitious, you +know. I'm superstitious about this ship. Never mind; I'll tell you the +verses, to show you what a queer thing memory is. The thing was called +'No Man's Sea': + + "'The days are dead in the No Man's Sea, + And God has left it alone; + The angels cover their heads and flee, + And the wild four winds have flown. + + "'There's never a ripple upon the tide, + There's never a word or sound; + But over the waste the white wraiths glide, + To look for the souls of the drowned. + + "'The No Man's Sea is a gaol of souls, + And its gate is a burning sun, + And deep beneath it a great bell tolls + For a death that never is done. + + "'Alas! for any that comes anear, + That lies on its moveless breast; + The grumbling water shall be his bier, + And never a place of rest."' + +"There are four of the verses. Well, I made a motion to stop the rowing, +and was mum for a minute. The men got nervous. They looked at the boat +in front of us, and then turned round, as though to see if the 'Dancing +Kate' was still in sight. I spoke, and they got more courage. I stood up +in the boat, but could see nothing in the dingey. I gave a sign to go +on, and soon we were alongside. In the bottom of the dingey lay a man, +apparently dead, wearing the clothes of a convict. One of the crew gave +a grunt of disgust, the others said nothing. I don't take to men often, +and to convicts precious seldom; but there was a look in this man's face +which the prison clothes couldn't demoralise--a damned pathetic look, +which seemed to say, 'Not guilty.' + +"In a minute I was beside him, and found he wasn't dead. Brandy brought +him round a little; but he was a bit gone in the head, and muttered all +the way back to the ship. I had unbuttoned his shirt, and I saw on his +breast a little ivory portrait of a woman. I didn't let the crew see it; +for the fellow, even in his delirium, appeared to know I had exposed the +thing, and drew the linen close in his fingers, and for a long time held +it at his throat." + +"What was the woman's face like, Hungerford?" I asked. + +He parried, remarking only that she had the face of a lady, and was +handsome. + +I pressed him. "But did it resemble any one you had ever seen?" + +With a slight droop of his eyelids, he said: "Don't ask foolish +questions, Marmion. Well, the castaway had a hard pull for life. He +wouldn't have lived at all, if a breeze hadn't come up and let us get +away to the coast. It was the beginning of the monsoon, and we went +bowling down towards Port Darwin, a crowd of Malay proas in our wake. +However, the poor beggar thought he was going to die, and one night he +told me his story. He was an escaped convict from Freemantle, Western +Australia. He had, with others, been taken up to the northern coast to +do some Government work, and had escaped in the dingey. His crime was +stealing funds belonging to a Squatting and Mining Company. There was +this extenuating circumstance: he could have replaced the money, which, +as he said, he'd only intended to use for a few weeks. But a personal +enemy threw suspicion on him, accounts were examined, and though he +showed he'd only used the money while more of his own was on the way to +him, the Company insisted on prosecuting him. For two reasons: because +it was itself in bad odour, and hoped by this trial to divert public +attention from its own dirty position; and because he had against him not +only his personal enemy, but those who wanted to hit the Company through +him. He'd filched to be able to meet the large expenses of his wife's +establishment. Into this he didn't enter minutely, and he didn't blame +her for having so big a menage; he only said he was sorry that he hadn't +been able to support it without having to come, even for a day, to the +stupidity of stealing. After two years he escaped. He asked me to write +a letter to his wife, which he'd dictate. Marmion, you or I couldn't +have dictated that letter if we'd taken a year to do it. There was no +religion in it, no poppy-cock, but straightforward talk, full of sorrow +for what he'd done, and for the disgrace he'd brought on her. I remember +the last few sentences as if I'd seen them yesterday. 'I am dying on the +open sea, disgraced, but free,' he said. 'I am not innocent in act, but +I was not guilty of intentional wrong. I did what I did that you should +have all you wished, all you ought to have. I ask but this--and I shall +soon ask for nothing--that you will have a kind thought, now and then, +for the man who always loved you, and loves you yet. I have never blamed +you that you did not come near me in my trouble; but I wish you were here +for a moment before I go away for ever. You must forgive me now, for you +will be free. If I were a better man I would say, God bless you. In my +last conscious moments I will think of you, and speak your name. And now +good-bye--an everlasting good-bye. I was your loving husband, and am your +lover until death.' And it was signed, 'Boyd Madras.' + +"However, he didn't die. Between the captain and myself, we kept life in +him, and at last landed him at Port Darwin; all of us, officers and crew, +swearing to let no one know he was a convict. And I'll say this for the +crew of the 'Dancing Kate' that, so far as I know, they kept their word. +That letter, addressed in care of a firm of Melbourne bankers, I gave +back to him before we landed. We made him up a purse of fifty pounds,-- +for the crew got to like him,--and left him at Port Darwin, sailing away +again in a few days to another pearl-field farther east. What happened +to him at Port Darwin and elsewhere, I don't know; but one day I found +him on a fashionable steamer in the Indian Ocean, looking almost as +near to Kingdom Come as when he starved in the dingey on No Man's Sea. +As I said before, I think he didn't recognise me; and he's lying now in +116 Intermediate, with a look on him that I've seen in the face of a man +condemned to death by the devils of cholera or equatorial fever. And +that's the story, Marmion, which I brought you to hear--told, as you +notice, in fine classical style." + +"And why do you tell ME this, Hungerford--a secret you've kept all these +years? Knowledge of that man's crime wasn't necessary before giving him +belladonna or a hot bath." + +Hungerford kept back the whole truth for reasons of his own. He said: +"Chiefly because I want you to take a decent interest in the chap. He +looks as if he might go off on the long voyage any tick o' the clock. +You are doctor, parson, and everything else of the kind on board. I like +the poor devil, but anyhow I'm not in a position to be going around with +ginger-tea in a spoon, or Ecclesiastes under my arm,--very good things. +Your profession has more or less to do with the mind as well as the body, +and you may take my word for it that Boyd Madras's mind is as sick as his +torso. By the way, he calls himself 'Charles Boyd,' so I suppose we +needn't recall to him his former experiences by adding the 'Madras.'" + +Hungerford squeezed my arm again violently, and added: "Look here, +Marmion, we understand each other in this, don't we? To do what we can +for the fellow, and be mum." + +Some of this looks rough and blunt, but as it was spoken there was that +in it which softened it to my ear. I knew he had told all he thought I +ought to know, and that he wished me to question him no more, nor to +refer to Mrs. Falchion, whose relationship to Boyd Madras--or Charles +Boyd--both of us suspected. + +"It was funny about those verses coming to my mind, wasn't it, Marmion?" +he continued. And he began to repeat one of them, keeping time to the +wave-like metre with his cheroot, winding up with a quick, circular +movement, and putting it again between his lips: + + "'There's never a ripple upon the tide, + There's never a breath or sound; + But over the waste the white wraiths glide, + To look for the souls of the drowned."' + +Then he jumped off the berth where he had been sitting, put on his +jacket, said it was time to take his turn on the bridge, and prepared to +go out, having apparently dismissed Number 116 Intermediate from his +mind. + +I went to Charles Boyd's cabin, and knocked gently. There was no +response. I entered. He lay sleeping soundly--the sleep that comes +after nervous exhaustion. I had a good chance to study him as he lay +there. The face was sensitive and well fashioned, but not strong; the +hands were delicate, yet firmly made. One hand was clinched upon that +portion of his breast where the portrait hung. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE TRAIL OF THE ISHMAELITE + +I went on deck again, and found Clovelly in the smoking-room. The +bookmaker was engaged in telling tales of the turf, alternated with comic +songs by Blackburn--an occupation which lasted throughout the voyage, and +was associated with electric appeals to the steward to fill the flowing +bowl. Clovelly came with me, and we joined Miss Treherne and her father. +Mr. Treherne introduced me to his daughter, and Clovelly amiably drew the +father into a discussion of communism as found in the South Sea Islands. + +I do not think my conversation with Miss Treherne was brilliant. She has +since told me that I appeared self-conscious and preoccupied. This being +no compliment to her, I was treated accordingly. I could have endorsed +Clovelly's estimate of her so far as her reserve and sedateness were +concerned. It seemed impossible to talk naturally. The events of the +day were interrupting the ordinary run of thought, and I felt at a +miserable disadvantage. I saw, however, that the girl was gifted and +clear of mind, and possessed of great physical charm, but of that fine +sort which must be seen in suitable surroundings to be properly +appreciated. Here on board ship a sweet gravity and a proud decorum--not +altogether unnecessary--prevented her from being seen at once to the best +advantage. Even at this moment I respected her the more for it, and was +not surprised, nor exactly displeased, that she adroitly drew her father +and Clovelly into the conversation. With Clovelly she seemed to find +immediate ground for naive and pleasant talk; on his part, deferential, +original, and attentive; on hers, easy, allusive, and warmed with piquant +humour. I admired her; saw how cleverly Clovelly was making the most of +her; guessed at the solicitude, studious care, and affection of her +bringing-up; watched the fond pleasure of the father as he listened; and +was angry with myself that Mrs. Falchion's voice rang in my ears at the +same moment as hers. But it did ring there, and the real value of that +smart tournament of ideas was partially lost to me. + +The next morning I went to Boyd Madras's cabin. He welcomed me +gratefully, and said that he was much better; as he seemed; but he +carried a hectic flush, such as comes to a consumptive person. I said +little to him beyond what was necessary for the discussion of his case. +I cautioned him about any unusual exertion, and was about to leave, when +an impulse came to me, and I returned and said: "You will not let me help +you in any other way?" + +"Yes," he answered; "I shall be very glad of your help, but not just yet. +And, Doctor, believe me, I think medicines can do very little. Though I +am thankful to you for visiting me, you need not take the trouble, unless +I am worse, and then I will send a steward to you, or go to you myself." + +What lay behind this request, unless it was sensitiveness, I could not +tell; but I determined to take my own course, and to visit him when I +thought fit. + +Still, I saw him but once or twice on the after-deck in the succeeding +days. He evidently wished to keep out of sight as much as possible. I +am ashamed to say there was a kind of satisfaction in this to me; for, +when a man's wife--and I believed she was Boyd Madras's wife--hangs on +your arm, and he himself is denied that privilege, and fares poorly +beside her sumptuousness, and lives as a stranger to her, you can +scarcely regard his presence with pleasure. And from the sheer force of +circumstances, as it seemed to me then, Mrs. Falchion's hand was often on +my arm; and her voice was always in my ear at meal-times and when I +visited Justine Caron to attend to her wound, or joined in the chattering +recreations of the music saloon. It was impossible not to feel her +influence; and if I did not yield entirely to it, I was more possessed by +it than I was aware. I was inquisitive to know beyond doubt that she was +the wife of this man. I think it was in my mind at the time that, +perhaps, by being with her much, I should be able to do him a service. +But there came a time when I was sufficiently undeceived. It was all a +game of misery in which some one stood to lose all round. Who was it: +she, or I, or the refugee of misfortune, Number 116 Intermediate? She +seemed safe enough. He or I would suffer in the crash of penalties. + +It was a strange situation. I, the acquaintance of a day, was welcome +within the circle of this woman's favour--though it was an unemotional +favour on her side; he, the husband, as I believed, though only half +the length of the ship away, was as distant from her as the north star. +When I sat with her on deck at night, I seemed to feel Boyd Madras's +face looking at me from the half-darkness of the after-deck; and Mrs. +Falchion, whose keen eyes missed little, remarked once on my gaze in that +direction. Thereafter I was more careful, but the idea haunted me. Yet, +I was not the only person who sat with her. Other men paid her attentive +court. The difference was, however, that with me she assumed ever so +delicate, yet palpable an air of proprietorship, none the less alluring +because there was no heart in it. So far as the other passengers were +concerned, there was nothing jarring to propriety in our companionship. +They did not know of Number 116 Intermediate. She had been announced as +a widow; and she had told Mrs. Callendar that her father's brother, who, +years before, had gone to California, had died within the past two years +and left her his property; and, because all Californians are supposed to +be millionaires, her wealth was counted fabulous. She was going now to +England, and from there to California in the following year. People said +that Dr. Marmion knew on which side his bread was buttered. They may +have said more unpleasant things, but I did not hear them, or of them. + +All the time I was conscious of a kind of dishonour, and perhaps it was +that which prompted me (I had fallen away from my intention of visiting +him freely) to send my steward to see how Boyd Madras came on, rather +than go myself. I was, however, conscious that the position could not-- +should not--be maintained long. The practical outcome of this knowledge +was not tardy. A new influence came into my life which was to affect it +permanently: but not without a struggle. + +A series of concerts and lectures had been arranged for the voyage, and +the fancy-dress ball was to close the first part of the journey--that is, +at Aden. One night a concert was on in the music saloon. I had just +come from seeing a couple of passengers who had been suffering from the +heat, and was debating whether to find Mrs. Falchion, who, I knew, was on +the other side of the deck, go in to the concert, or join Colonel Ryder +and Clovelly, who had asked me to come to the smoking-room when I could. +I am afraid I was balancing heavily in favour of Mrs. Falchion, when I +heard a voice that was new to me, singing a song I had known years +before, when life was ardent, and love first came--halcyon days in +country lanes, in lilac thickets, of pleasant Hertfordshire, where our +footsteps met a small bombardment of bursting seed-pods of the furze, +along the green common that sloped to the village. I thought of all +this, and of HER everlasting quiet. + +With a different voice the words of the song would have sent me out of +hearing; now I stood rooted to the spot, as the notes floated out past +me to the nervelessness of the Indian Ocean, every one of them a +commandment from behind the curtain of a sanctuary. + +The voice was a warm, full contralto of exquisite culture. +It suggested depths of rich sound behind, from which the singer, if she +chose, might draw, until the room and the deck and the sea ached with +sweetness. I scarcely dared to look in to see who it was, lest I should +find it a dream. I stood with my head turned away towards the dusky +ocean. When, at last, with the closing notes of the song, I went to +the port-hole and looked in, I saw that the singer was Miss Treherne. +There was an abstracted look in her eyes as she raised them, and she +seemed unconscious of the applause following the last chords of the +accompaniment. She stood up, folding the music as she did so, and +unconsciously raised her eyes toward the port-hole where I was. Her +glance caught mine, and instantly a change passed over her face. The +effect of the song upon her was broken; she flushed slightly, and, as I +thought, with faint annoyance. I know of nothing so little complimentary +to a singer as the audience that patronisingly listens outside a room or +window,--not bound by any sense of duty as an audience,--between whom and +the artists an unnatural barrier is raised. But I have reason to think +now that Belle Treherne was not wholly moved by annoyance--that she had +seen something unusual, maybe oppressive, in my look. She turned to her +father. He adjusted his glasses as if, in his pride, to see her better. +Then he fondly took her arm, and they left the room. + +Then I saw Mrs. Falchion's face at the port-hole opposite. Her eyes were +on me. An instant before, I had intended following Miss Treherne and her +father; now some spirit of defiance, some unaccountable revolution, +took possession of me, so that I flashed back to her a warm recognition. +I could not have believed it possible, if it had been told of me, that, +one minute affected by beautiful and sacred remembrances, the next I +should be yielding to the unimpassioned tyranny of a woman who could +never be anything but a stumbling-block and an evil influence. I had yet +to learn that in times of mental and moral struggle the mixed fighting +forces in us resolve themselves into two cohesive powers, and strive for +mastery; that no past thought or act goes for nothing at such a time, but +creeps out from the darkness where we thought it had gone for ever, and +does battle with its kind against the common foe. There moved before my +sight three women: one, sweet and unsubstantial, wistful and mute and +very young, not of the earth earthy; one, lissom, grave, with gracious +body and warm abstracted eyes, all delicacy, strength, reserve; the other +and last, daring, cold, beautiful, with irresistible charm, silent and +compelling. And these are the three women who have influenced my life, +who fought in me then for mastery; one from out the unchangeable past, +the others in the tangible and delible present. Most of us have to pass +through such ordeals before character and conviction receive their final +bias; before human nature has its wild trouble, and then settles into +"cold rock and quiet world;" which any lesser after-shocks may modify, +but cannot radically change. + +I tried to think. I felt that to be wholly a man I should turn from +those eyes drawing me on. I recalled the words of Clovelly, who had said +to me that afternoon, half laughingly: "Dr. Marmion, I wonder how many +of us wish ourselves transported permanently to that time when we didn't +know champagne from 'alter feiner madeira' or dry hock from sweet +sauterne; when a pretty face made us feel ready to abjure all the sinful +lusts of the flesh and become inheritors of the kingdom of heaven? Egad! +I should like to feel it once again. But how can we, when we have been +intoxicated with many things; when we are drunk with success and +experience; have hung on the fringe of unrighteousness; and know the +world backward, and ourselves mercilessly?" + +Was I, like the drunkard, coming surely to the time when I could +no longer say yes to my wisdom, or no to my weakness? I knew that, +an hour before, in filling a phial with medicine, I found I was doing +it mechanically, and had to begin over again, making an effort to keep my +mind to my task. I think it is an axiom that no man can properly perform +the business of life who indulges in emotional preoccupation. + +These thoughts, which take so long to write, passed then through my mind +swiftly; but her eyes were on me with a peculiar and confident +insistence--and I yielded. On my way to her I met Clovelly and Colonel +Ryder. Hungerford was walking between them. Colonel Ryder said: "I've +been saving that story for you, Doctor; better come and get it while it's +hot." + +This was a promised tale of the taking of Mobile in the American Civil +War. + +At any other time the invitation would have pleased me mightily; for, +apart from the other two, Hungerford's brusque and original conversation +was always a pleasure--so were his cheroots; but now I was under an +influence selfish in its source. At the same time I felt that Hungerford +was storing up some acute criticism of me, and that he might let me hear +it any moment. I knew, numbering the order of his duties, that he could +have but a very short time to spare for gossip at this juncture, yet I +said that I could not join them for half an hour or so. Hungerford had a +fashion of looking at me searchingly from under his heavy brows, and I +saw that he did so now with impatience, perhaps contempt. I was certain +that he longed to thrash me. That was his idea of punishment and +penalty. He linked his arm in those of the other two men, and they moved +on, Colonel Ryder saying that he would keep the story till I came and +would wait in the smoking-room for me. + +The concert was still on when I sat down beside Mrs. Falchion. "You +seemed to enjoy Miss Treherne's singing?" she said cordially enough as +she folded her hands in her lap. + +"Yes, I thought it beautiful. Didn't you?" + +"Pretty, most pretty; and admirable in technique and tone; but she has +too much feeling to be really artistic. She felt the thing, instead of +pretending to feel it--which makes all the difference. She belongs to +a race of delightful women, who never do any harm, whom everybody calls +good, and who are very severe on those who do not pretend to be good. +Still, all of that pleasant race will read their husband's letters and +smuggle. They have no civic virtues. Yet they would be shocked to bathe +on the beach without a machine, as American women do,--and they look for +a new fall of Jerusalem when one of their sex smokes a cigarette after +dinner. Now, I do not smoke cigarettes after dinner, so I can speak +freely. But, at the same time, I do not smuggle, and I do bathe on the +beach without a machine--when I am in a land where there are no sharks +and no taboo. If morally consumptive people were given a few years in +the South Seas, where they could not get away from nature, there would +be more strength and less scandal in society." + +I laughed. "There is a frank note for Mr. Clovelly, who thinks he knows +the world and my sex thoroughly. He says as much in his books.--Have you +read his 'A Sweet Apocalypse'? He said more than as much to me. But he +knows a mere nothing about women--their amusing inconsistencies; their +infidelity in little things and fidelity in big things; their self- +torturings; their inability to comprehend themselves; their periods of +religious insanity; their occasional revolts against the restraints of +a woman's position, known only to themselves in their dark hours; ah, +really, Dr. Marmion, he is ignorant, I assure you. He has only got two +or three kinds of women in his mind, and the representatives of these +fooled him, as far as he went with them, to their hearts' content. +Believe me, there is no one quite so foolish as the professional student +of character. He sees things with a glamour; he is impressionable; he +immediately begins to make a woman what he wishes her to be for his book, +not what she is; and women laugh at him when they read his books, or pity +him if they know him personally. I venture to say that I could make Mr. +Clovelly use me in a novel--not 'A Sweet Apocalypse'--as a placid lover +of fancy bazaars and Dorcas societies, instead of a very practical +person, who has seen life without the romantic eye, and knows as well the +working of a buccaneering craft--through consular papers and magisterial +trials, of course--as of a colonial Government House. But it is not +worth while trying to make him falsify my character. Besides, you are +here to amuse me." + +This speech, as she made it, was pleasantly audacious and clever. I +laughed, and made a gesture of mock dissent, and she added: "Now I have +finished my lecture. Please tie my shoe-lace there, and then, as I said, +amuse me. Oh, you can, if you choose! You are clever when you like to +be. Only, this time, do not let it be a professor's wife who foolishly +destroys herself, and cuts short what might have been a brilliant +career." + +On the instant I determined to probe deeper into her life, and try her +nerve, by telling a story with enough likeness to her own (if she was the +wife of Boyd Madras) to affect her acutely; though I was not sure I could +succeed. A woman who triumphs over sea-sickness, whom steam from the +boilers never affects, nor the propeller-screw disturbs, has little to +fear from the words of a man who is neither adroit, eloquent, nor +dramatic. However, I determined to try what I could do. I said: "I +fancy you would like something in the line of adventure; but my career +has not run in that direction, so I shall resort to less exciting fields, +and, I fear, also, a not very cheerful subject." + +"Oh, never mind!" said she. "What you wish, so long as it is not +conventional and hackneyed. But I know you will not be prosy, so go on, +please." + +"Well," I began, "once, in the hospital, I attended a man--Anson was his +name--who, when he thought he was going to die, confided to me his life's +secret. I liked the man; he was good-looking, amiable, but hopelessly +melancholy. He was dying as much from trouble as disease. No counsel +or encouragement had any effect upon him; he did, as I have seen so many +do--he resigned himself to the out-going tide. Well, for the secret. +He had been a felon. His crime had been committed through ministering to +his wife's vanity." + +Here I paused. I felt Mrs. Falchion's eyes searching me. +I raised mine steadily to hers with an impersonal glance, and saw +that she had not changed colour in the least. But her eyes were busy. + +I proceeded: "When he was disgraced she did not come near him. +When he went to her, after he was released" (here I thought it best to +depart from any close resemblance to Mrs. Falchion's own story), "and was +admitted to her, she treated him as an absolute stranger--as one who had +intruded, and might be violent. She said that she and her maid were +alone in the house, and hinted that he had come to disturb them. She +bade him go, or she must herself go. He called her by his own name, and +begged her, by the memory of their dead child, to speak kindly to him. +She said he was quite mistaken in her name, that she was Mrs. Glave, not +Mrs. Anson, and again insisted that he should go. He left her, and at +last, broken-hearted, found his way, in illness and poverty to the +hospital, where, toward the last, he was cared for by a noble girl, +a companion of his boyhood and his better days, who urged his wife to +visit him. She left him alone, said unpleasant things to the girl, did +not come to see her husband when he was dead, and provided nothing for +his burial. You see that, like you, she hated suffering and misery--and +criminals. The girl and her mother paid the expenses of the funeral, +and, with myself, were the only mourners. I am doubtful if the wife +knows even where he lies. I admit that the story sounds melodramatic; +but truth is more drama than comedy, I fancy. Now, what do you think of +it all, Mrs. Falchion?" + +I had felt her shrink a little at the earlier part of my story, as if +she feared that her own tale was to be brutally bared before her; but +that soon passed, and she languidly tapped the chair-arm as the narrative +continued. When it was finished, she leaned over slightly, and with +these same fingers tapped my arm. I thrilled involuntarily. + +"He died, did he?" she said. "That was the most graceful thing he could +do. So far as my knowledge of the world is concerned, men of his class +do NOT die. They live, and they never rise above their degradation. +They had not brains or courage enough to keep them out of gaol, and they +have not pluck or brains enough to succeed--afterwards. Your friend +Anson was quite gentlemanly in his action at the last. He had some sense +of the fitness of things. He could not find a place in the world without +making other people uncomfortable, and causing trouble. If he had lived, +he would always have added to the blight on his wife's career, and have +been an arrow--not a thorn--in her side. Very likely he would have +created a scandal for the good young girl who nursed him. He made the +false step, and compelled society to reject him. It did not want to do +so; it never does. It is long-suffering; it tries not to see and +acknowledge things until the culprit himself forces it to take action. +Then it says: 'Now you have openly and inconsiderately broken our bond of +mutual forbearance. You make me send you away. Go, then, behind stone +walls, and please do not come to me again. If you do, you will only be a +troublesome ghost. You will cause awkwardness and distress.' So, Mr. +Anson--I must be polite to him--did the most reasonable and proper thing. +He disappeared from the play before it actually became tragedy. There +was no tragedy in his death--death is a magnificent ally; it untangles +knots. The tragedy was in his living--in the perpetual ruin of his +wife's life, renewed every morning. He disappeared. Then the play +became drama, with only a little shadow of tragedy behind it. Now, +frankly, am I not right?" + +"Mrs. Falchion," I said, "your argument is clever, but it is only +incidentally true. You draw life, society and men no more correctly than +the author of 'A Sweet Apocalypse' would draw you. The social law you +sketch when reduced to its bare elements, is remorseless. It does not +provide for repentance, for restitution, for recovering a lost paradise. +It makes an act final, a sin irrevocable." + +"Well, since we are beginning to talk like a couple of books by a pair of +priggish philosophers, I might as well say that I think sin is final so +far as the domestic and social machinery of the world is concerned. What +his religious belief requires of a man is one thing, what his fellow-men +require of him is another. The world says, You shall have latitude +enough to swing in freely, but you must keep within the code. As soon +as you break the law openly, and set the machinery of public penalty in +motion, there is an end of you, so far as this world is concerned. You +may live on, but you have been broken on the wheel, and broken you always +will be. It is not a question of right or wrong, of kindness or cruelty, +but of general expediency and inevitableness. To all effect, Mr. Anson +was dead before he breathed his last. He died when he passed within the +walls of a gaol--condemned for theft." + +There was singular scorn in her last few words, and, dissent as I did +from her merciless theories, I was astonished at her adroitness and +downrightness--enchanted by the glow of her face. To this hour, knowing +all her life as I do, I can only regard her as a splendid achievement of +nature, convincing even when at the most awkward tangents with the +general sense and the straitest interpretation of life; convincing even +in those other and later incidents, which showed her to be acting not +so much by impulse as by the law of her nature. Her emotions were +apparently rationalised at birth--to be derationalised and broken up by a +power greater than herself before her life had worked itself out. I had +counted her clever; I had not reckoned with her powers of reasoning. +Influenced as I was by emotion when in her presence, I resorted to a +personal application of my opinions--the last and most unfair resort of +a disputant. I said I would rather be Anson dead than Mrs. Anson living; +I would rather be the active than the passive sinner; the victim, than a +part of that great and cruel machine of penalty. + +"The passive sinner!" she replied. "Why, what wrong did she do?" + +The highest moral conceptions worked dully in her. Yet she seemed then, +as she always appeared to be, free from any action that should set the +machine of penalty going against herself. She was inexorable, but she +had never, knowingly, so much as slashed the hem of the moral code. + +"It was to give his wife pleasure that Anson made the false step," I +urged. + +"Do you think she would have had the pleasure at the price? The man was +vain and selfish to run any risk, to do anything that might endanger her +safety--that is, her happiness and comfort." + +"But suppose he knew that she loved ease and pleasure?--that he feared +her anger or disdain if he did not minister to her luxuries?" + +"Then he ought not to have married that kind of a woman." The hardness +in her voice was matched at that moment by the coldness of her face. + +"That is begging the question," I replied. "What would such a selfish +woman do in such a case, if her pleasure could not be gratified?" + +"You must ask that kind of woman," was her ironical answer. + +I rashly felt that her castle of strength was crumbling. I ventured +farther. + +"I have done so." + +She turned slightly toward me, yet not nervously, as I had expected. + +"What did she say?" + +"She declined to answer directly." + +There was a pause, in which I felt her eyes searching my face. I fear +I must have learned dissimulation well; for, after a minute, I looked +at her, and saw, from the absence of any curious anxiety, that I had +betrayed nothing. She looked me straight in the eyes and said: "Dr. +Marmion, a man must not expect to be forgiven, who has brought shame on a +woman." + +"Not even when he has repented and atoned?" + +"Atoned! How mad you are! How can there be atonement? You cannot wipe +things out--on earth. We are of the earth. Records remain. If a man +plays the fool, the coward, and the criminal, he must expect to wear the +fool's cap, the white feather, and the leg-chain until his life's end. +And now, please, let us change the subject. We have been bookish long +enough." She rose with a gesture of impatience. + +I did not rise. "Pardon me, Mrs. Falchion," I urged, "but this interests +me so. I have thought much of Anson lately. Please, let us talk a +little longer. Do sit down." + +She sat down again with an air of concession rather than of pleasure. + +"I am interested," I said, "in looking at this question from a woman's +standpoint. You see, I am apt to side with the miserable fellow who made +a false step--foolish, if you like--all for love of a selfish and +beautiful woman." + +"She was beautiful?" + +"Yes, as you are." She did not blush at that rank compliment, any more +than a lioness would, if you praised the astonishing sleekness and beauty +of its skin. + +"And she had been a true wife to him before that?" + +"Yes, in all that concerned the code." + +"Well?--Well, was not that enough? She did what she could, as long as +she could." She leaned far back in the chair, her eyes half shut. + +"Don't you think--as a woman, not as a theorist--that Mrs. Anson might +at least have come to him when he was dying?" + +"It would only have been uncomfortable for her. She had no part in his +life; she could not feel with him. She could do nothing." + +"But suppose she had loved him? By that memory, then, of the time when +they took each other for better or for worse, until death should part +them?" + +"Death did part them when the code banished him; when he passed from a +free world into a cage. Besides, we are talking about people marrying, +not about their loving." + +"I will admit," I said, with a little raw irony, "that I was not exact in +definition." + +Here I got a glimpse into her nature which rendered after events not so +marvellous to me as they might seem to others. She thought a moment +quite indolently, and then continued: "You make one moralise like George +Eliot. Marriage is a condition, but love must be an action. The one is +a contract, the other is complete possession, a principle--that is, if it +exists at all. I do not know." + +She turned the rings round mechanically on her finger; and among them was +a wedding-ring! Her voice had become low and abstracted, and now she +seemed to have forgotten my presence, and was looking out upon the +humming darkness round us, through which now and again there rang a +boatswain's whistle, or the loud laugh of Blackburn, telling of a joyous +hour in the smoking-room. + +I am now about to record an act of madness, of folly, on my part. I +suppose most men have such moments of temptation, but I suppose, also, +that they act more sensibly and honourably than I did then. Her hand had +dropped gently on the chair-arm, near to my own, and though our fingers +did not touch, I felt mine thrilled and impelled toward hers. I do not +seek to palliate my action. Though the man I believed to be her husband +was below, I yielded myself to an imagined passion for her. In that +moment I was a captive. I caught her hand and kissed it hotly. + +"But you might know what love is," I said. "You might learn--learn of +me. You--" + +Abruptly and with surprise she withdrew her hand, and, without any +visible emotion save a quicker pulsation of her breast, which might have +been indignation, spoke. "But even if I might learn, Dr. Marmion, be +sure that neither your college nor Heaven gave you the knowledge to +instruct me. . . . There: pardon me, if I speak harshly; but this is +most inconsiderate of you, most impulsive--and compromising. You are +capable of singular contrasts. Please let us be friends, friends simply. +You are too interesting for a lover, really you are." + +Her words were a cold shock to my emotion--my superficial emotion; +though, indeed, for that moment she seemed adorable to me. Without any +apparent relevancy, but certainly because my thoughts in self-reproach +were hovering about cabin 116 Intermediate, I said, with a biting shame, +"I do not wonder now!" + +"You do not wonder at what?" she questioned; and she laid her hand +kindly on my arm. + +I put the hand away a little childishly, and replied, "At men going to +the devil." But this was not what I thought. + +"That does not sound complimentary to somebody. May I ask you what you +mean?" she said calmly. "I mean that Anson loved his wife, and she did +not love him; yet she held him like a slave, torturing him at the same +time." + +"Does it not strike you that this is irrelevant? You are not my husband +--not my slave. But, to be less personal, Mr. Anson's wife was not +responsible for his loving her. Love, as I take it, is a voluntary +thing. It pleased him to love her--he would not have done it if it did +not please him; probably his love was an inconvenient thing domestically +--if he had no tact." + +"Of that," I said, "neither you nor I can know with any certainty. But, +to be scriptural, she reaped where she had not sowed, and gathered where +she had not strawed. If she did not make the man love her,--I believe +she did, as I believe you would, perhaps unconsciously, do,--she used his +love, and was therefore better able to make all other men admire her. +She was richer in personal power for that experience; but she was not +grateful for it nor for his devotion." + +"You mean, in fact, that I--for you make the personal application--shall +be better able henceforth to win men's love, because--ah, surely, Dr. +Marmion, you do not dignify this impulse, this foolishness of yours, by +the name of love!" She smiled a little satirically at the fingers I had +kissed. + +I was humiliated, and annoyed with her and with myself, though, down +in my mind, I knew that she was right. "I mean," said I, "that I can +understand how men have committed suicide because of just such things. +My wonder is that Anson, poor devil! did not do it." I knew I was +talking foolishly. + +"He hadn't the courage, my dear sir. He was gentlemanly enough to die, +but not to be heroic to that extent. For it does need a strong dash of +heroism to take one's own life. As I conceive it, suicide would have +been the best thing for him when he sinned against the code. The world +would have pitied him then, would have said, He spared us the trial of +punishing him. But to pay the vulgar penalty of prison--ah!" + +She shuddered and then almost coldly continued: "Suicide is an act of +importance; it shows that a man recognises, at least, the worthlessness +of his life. He does one dramatic and powerful thing; he has an instant +of great courage, and all is over. If it had been a duel in which, of +intention, he would fire wide, and his assailant would fire to kill, so +much the better; so much the more would the world pity. But either is +superior, as a final situation, than death with a broken heart--I suppose +that is possible?--and disgrace, in a hospital." + +"You seem to think only of the present, only of the code and the world; +and as if there were no heroism in a man living down his shame, righting +himself heroically at all points possible, bearing his penalty, and +showing the courage of daily wearing the sackcloth of remorse and +restitution." + +"Oh," she persisted, "you make me angry. I know what you wish to +express; I know that you consider it a sin to take one's life, even in +'the high Roman fashion.' But, frankly, I do not, and I fear--or rather, +I fancy--that I never shall. After all, your belief is a pitiless one; +for, as I have tried to say, the man has not himself alone to consider, +but those to whom his living is a perpetual shame and menace and cruelty +insupportable--insupportable! Now, please, let us change the subject +finally; and"--here she softly laughed--"forgive me if I have treated +your fancied infatuation lightly or indifferently. I want you for a +friend--at least, for a friendly acquaintance. I do not want you for +a lover." + +We both rose. I was not quite content with her nor with myself yet. I +felt sure that while she did not wish me for a lover, she was not averse +to my playing the devoted cavalier, who should give all, while she should +give nothing. I knew that my punishment had already begun. We paced the +deck in silence; and once, as we walked far aft, I saw, leaning upon the +railing of the intermediate deck, and looking towards us--Boyd Madras; +and the words of that letter which he wrote on the No Man's Sea came to +me. + +At length she said: "You have made no reply to my last remark. Are we +to be friends, and not lovers? Or shall you cherish enmity against me? +Or, worse still,"--and here she laughed, I thought, a little ironically, +--"avoid me, and be as icy as you have been--fervid?" + +"Mrs. Falchion," I said, "your enemy I do not wish to be--I could not be +if I wished; but, for the rest, you must please let me see what I may +think of myself to-morrow. There is much virtue in to-morrow," I added. +"It enables one to get perspective." + +"I understand," she said; and then was silent. We walked the deck slowly +for several minutes. Then we were accosted by two ladies of a committee +that had the fancy-dress ball in hand. They wished to consult Mrs. +Falchion in certain matters of costume and decoration, for which, it had +been discovered, she had a peculiar faculty. She turned to me half +inquiringly, and I bade her good-night, inwardly determined (how easy it +is after having failed to gratify ourselves!) that the touch of her +fingers should never again make my heart beat faster. + +I joined Colonel Ryder and Clovelly in the smoking-room. Hungerford, +as I guessed gladly, was gone. I was too much the coward to meet his eye +just then. Colonel Ryder was estimating the amount he would wager--if he +were in the habit of betting--that the 'Fulvia' could not turn round in +her tracks in twenty minutes, while he parenthetically endorsed +Hungerford's remarks to me--though he was ignorant of them--that lascars +should not be permitted on English passenger ships. He was supported by +Sir Hayes Craven, a shipowner, who further said that not one out of ten +British sailors could swim, while not five out of ten could row a boat +properly. Ryder's anger was great, because Clovelly remarked with mock +seriousness that the lascars were picturesque, and asked the American if +he had watched them listlessly eating rice and curry as they squatted +between decks; whether he had observed the Serang, with his silver +whistle, who ruled them, and despised us "poor white trash;" and if he +did not think it was a good thing to have fatalists like them as sailors +--they would be cool in time of danger. + +Colonel Ryder's indignation was curbed, however, by the bookmaker, +who, having no views, but seeing an opportunity for fun, brought up +reinforcements of chaff and slang, easily construable into profanity, +and impregnated with terse humour. Many of the ladies had spoken of the +bookmaker as one of the best-mannered men on board. So he was to all +appearance. None dressed with better taste, nor carried himself with +such an air. There was even a deferential tone in his strong language, a +hesitating quaintness, which made it irresistible. He was at the service +of any person on board needing championship. His talents were varied. +He could suggest harmonies in colour to the ladies at one moment, and at +the next, in the seclusion of the bar counter, arrange deadly harmonies +in liquor. He was an authority on acting; he knew how to edit a +newspaper; he picked out the really nice points in the sermons delivered +by the missionaries in the saloon; he had some marvellous theories about +navigation; and his trick with a salad was superb. He now convulsed the +idlers in the smoking-room with laughter, and soon deftly drew off the +discussion to the speed of the vessel, arranging a sweep-stake +immediately, upon the possibilities of the run. He instantly proposed to +sell the numbers by auction. He was the auctioneer. With his eye-glass +at his eye, and Bohemian pleasantry falling from his lips, he ran the +prices up. He was selling Clovelly's number, and had advanced it beyond +the novelist's own bidding, when suddenly the screw stopped, the engines +ceased working, and the 'Fulvia' slowed down. + +The numbers remained unsold. Word came to us that an accident had +happened to the machinery, and that we should be hove-to for a day, +or longer, to accomplish necessary repairs. How serious the accident +to the machinery was no one knew. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ACCUSING FACES + +While we were hove-to, the 'Porcupine' passed us. In all probability it +would now get to Aden ahead of us; and herein lay a development of the +history of Mrs. Falchion. I was standing beside Belle Treherne as the +ship came within hail of us and signalled to see what was the matter. +Mrs. Falchion was not far from us. She was looking intently at the +vessel through marine-glasses, and she did not put them down until it had +passed. Then she turned away with an abstracted light in her eyes and a +wintry smile; and the look and the smile continued when she sat down in +her deck-chair and leaned her cheek meditatively on the marine-glass. +But I saw now that something was added to the expression of her face--a +suggestion of brooding or wonder. Belle Treherne, noticing the direction +of my glances, said: "Have you known Mrs. Falchion long?" + +"No, not long," I replied. "Only since she came on board." + +"She is very clever, I believe." + +I felt my face flushing, though, reasonably, there was no occasion for +it, and I said: "Yes, she is one of the ablest women I have ever met." + +"She is beautiful, too--very beautiful." This very frankly. + +"Have you talked with her?" asked I. + +"Yes, a little this morning, for the first time. She did not speak much, +however." Here Miss Treherne paused, and then added meditatively: "Do +you know, she impressed me as having singular frankness and singular +reserve as well? I think I admired it. There is no feeling in her +speech, and yet it has great candour. I never before met any one like +her. She does not wear her heart upon her sleeve, I imagine." + +A moment of irony came over me; that desire to say what one really does +not believe (a feminine trait), and I replied: "Are both those articles +necessary to any one? A sleeve?--well, one must be clothed. But a +heart?--a cumbrous thing, as I take it." + +Belle Treherne turned, and looked me steadily in the eyes for an instant, +as if she had suddenly awakened from abstraction, and slowly said, while +she drew back slightly: "Dr. Marmion, I am only a girl, I know, and +inexperienced, but I hoped most people of education and knowledge of +life were free from that kind of cynicism to be read of in books." Then +something in her thoughts seemed to chill her words and manner, and her +father coming up a moment after, she took his arm, and walked away with a +not very cordial bow to me. + +The fact is, with a woman's quick intuition, she had read in my tone +something suggestive of my recent experience with Mrs. Falchion. Her +fine womanliness awoke; the purity of her thoughts, rose in opposition to +my flippancy and to me; and I knew that I had raised a prejudice not easy +to destroy. + +This was on a Friday afternoon. + +On the Saturday evening following, the fancy-dress ball was to occur. +The accident to the machinery and our delay were almost forgotten in the +preparations therefor. I had little to do; there was only one sick man +on board, and my hand could not cure his sickness. How he fared, my +uncomfortable mind, now bitterly alive to a sense of duty, almost +hesitated to inquire. Yet a change had come. A reaction had set in for +me. Would it be permanent? I dared scarcely answer that question, with +Mrs. Falchion at my right hand at table, with her voice at my ear. I was +not quite myself yet; I was struggling, as it were, with the effects of a +fantastic dream. + +Still, I had determined upon my course. I had made resolutions. I had +ended the chapter of dalliance. I had wished to go to 116 Intermediate +and let its occupant demand what satisfaction he would. I wanted to say +to Hungerford that I was an ass; but that was even harder still. He was +so thorough and uncompromising in nature, so strong in moral fibre, that +I felt his sarcasm would be too outspoken for me just at present. +In this, however, I did not give him credit for a fine sense of +consideration, as after events showed. Although there had been no spoken +understanding between us that Mrs. Falchion was the wife of Boyd Madras, +the mind of one was the other's also. I understood exactly why he told +me Boyd Madras's story: it was a warning. He was not the man to harp on +things. He gave the hint, and there the matter ended, so far as he was +concerned, until a time might come when he should think it his duty to +refer to the subject again. Some time before, he had shown me the +portrait of the girl who had promised to be his wife. She, of course, +could trust HIM anywhere, everywhere. + +Mrs. Falchion had seen the change in me, and, I am sure, guessed the new +direction of my thoughts, and knew that I wished to take refuge in a new +companionship--a thing, indeed, not easily to be achieved, as I felt now; +for no girl of delicate and proud temper would complacently regard a +hasty transference of attention from another to herself. Besides, it +would be neither courteous nor reasonable to break with Mrs. Falchion +abruptly. The error was mine, not hers. She had not my knowledge of the +immediate circumstances, which made my position morally untenable. She +showed unembarrassed ignorance of the change. At the same time I caught +a tone of voice and a manner which showed she was not actually oblivious, +but was touched in that nerve called vanity; and from this much feminine +hatred springs. + +I made up my mind to begin a course of scientific reading, and was seated +in my cabin, vainly trying to digest a treatise on the pathology of the +nervous system, when Hungerford appeared at the door. With a nod, he +entered, threw himself down on the cabin sofa, and asked for a match. +After a pause, he said: "Marmion, Boyd Madras, alias Charles Boyd, has +recognised me." + +I rose to get a cigar, thus turning my face from him, and said: "Well?" + +"Well, there isn't anything very startling. I suppose he wishes I had +left him in the dingey on No Man's Sea. He's a fool." + +"Indeed, why?" + +"Marmion, are your brains softening? Why does he shadow a woman who +wouldn't lift her finger to save him from battle, murder, or sudden +death?" + +"From the code," I said, in half soliloquy. + +"From the what?" + +"Oh, never mind, Hungerford. I suppose he is shadowing--Mrs. Falchion?" + +He eyed me closely. + +"I mean the woman that chucked his name; that turned her back on him when +he was in trouble; that hopes he is dead, if she doesn't believe that he +is actually; that would, no doubt, treat him as a burglar if he went to +her, got down on his knees, and said: 'Mercy, my girl, I've come back to +you a penitent prodigal. Henceforth I shall be as straight as the sun, +so help me Heaven and your love and forgiveness!'" + +Hungerford paused, as if expecting me to reply; but, leaning forward on +my knees and smoking hard, I remained silent. This seemed to anger him, +for he said a little roughly: "Why doesn't he come out and give you +blazes on the promenade deck, and corner her down with a mighty cheek, +and levy on her for a thousand pounds? Both you and she would think more +of him. Women don't dislike being bullied, if it is done in the right +way--haven't I seen it the world over, from lubra to dowager? I tell +you, man--sinning or not--was meant to be woman's master and lover, and +just as much one as the other." + +At this point Hungerford's manner underwent a slight change, and he +continued: "Marmion, I wouldn't have come near you, only I noticed you +have altered your course, and are likely to go on a fresh tack. It isn't +my habit to worry a man. I gave you a signal, and you didn't respond at +first. Well, we have come within hail again; and now, don't you think +that you might help to straighten this tangle, and try to arrange a +reconciliation between those two? + +"The scheme is worth trying. Nobody need know but you and me. It +wouldn't be much of a sacrifice to her to give him a taste of the thing +she swore to do--how does it run?--'to have and to hold from this day +forward'?--I can't recall it; but it's whether the wind blows fair or +foul, or the keel scrapes the land or gives to the rock, till the sea +gulps one of 'em down for ever. That's the sense of the thing, Marmion, +and the contract holds between the two, straight on into the eternal +belly. Whatever happens, a husband is a husband, and a wife a wife. It +seems to me that, in the sight of Heaven, it's he that's running fair in +the teeth of the wind, every timber straining, and she that's riding with +it, well coaled, flags flying, in an open channel, and passing the +derelict without so much as, 'Ahoy there!'" + +Now, at this distance of time, I look back, and see Hungerford, "the +rowdy sailor," as he called himself, lying there, his dark grey eyes +turned full on me; and I am convinced that no honester, more sturdy- +minded man ever reefed a sail, took his turn upon the bridge, or walked +the dry land in the business of life. It did not surprise me, a year +after, when I saw in public prints that he was the hero of--but that must +be told elsewhere. I was about to answer him then as I knew he would +wish, when a steward appeared and said: "Mr. Boyd, 116 Intermediate, +wishes you would come to him, sir, if you would be so kind." + +Hungerford rose, and, as I made ready to go, urged quietly: "You've got +the charts and soundings, Marmion, steam ahead!" and, with a swift but +kindly clench of my shoulder, he left me. In that moment there came a +cowardly feeling, a sense of shamefacedness, and then, hard upon it, and +overwhelming it, a determination to serve Boyd Madras so far as lay in my +power, and to be a man, and not a coward or an idler. + +When I found him he was prostrate. In his eyes there was no anger, no +indignation, nor sullenness--all of which he might reasonably have felt; +and instantly I was ashamed of the thought which, as I came to him, +flashed through my mind, that he might do some violent thing. Not that +I had any fear of violence; but I had an active dislike of awkward +circumstances. I felt his fluttering pulse, and noted the blue line on +his warped lips. I gave him some medicine, and then sat down. There was +a silence. What could I say? A dozen thoughts came to my mind, but I +rejected them. It was difficult to open up the subject. At last he put +his hand upon my arm and spoke: + +"You told me one night that you would help me if you could. I ought to +have accepted your offer at first; it would have been better.--No, please +don't speak just yet. I think I know what you would say. I knew that +you meant all you urged upon me; that you liked me. I was once worthy +of men's liking, perhaps, and I had good comrades; but that is all over. +You have not come near me lately, but it wasn't because you felt any +neglect, or wished to take back your words; but--because of something +else. . . . I understand it all. She has great power. She always +had. She is very beautiful. I remember when--but I will not call it +back before you, though, God knows, I go over it all every day and every +night, until it seems that only the memory of her is real, and that she +herself is a ghost. I ought not to have crossed her path again, even +unknown to her. But I have done it, and now I cannot go out of that path +without kneeling before her once again, as I did long ago. Having seen +her, breathed the same air, I must speak or die; perhaps it will be both. +That is a power she has: she can bend one to her will, although she +often, involuntarily, wills things that are death to others. One MUST +care for her, you understand; it is natural, even when it is torture to +do so." + +He put his hand on his side and moved as if in pain. I reached over and +felt his pulse, then took his hand and pressed it, saying: "I will be +your friend now, Madras, in so far as I can." + +He looked up at me gratefully, and replied: "I know that--I know that. +It is more than I deserve." + +Then he began to speak of his past. He told me of Hungerford's kindness +to him on the 'Dancing Kate', of his luckless days at Port Darwin, of his +search for his wife, his writing to her, and her refusal to see him. He +did not rail against her. He apologised for her, and reproached himself. +"She is most singular," he continued, "and different from most women. +She never said she loved me, and she never did, I know. Her father urged +her to marry me; he thought I was a good man." + +Here he laughed a little bitterly. "But it was a bad day for her. +She never loved any one, I think, and she cannot understand what love +is, though many have cared for her. She is silent where herself is +concerned. I think there was some trouble--not love, I am sure of that +--which vexed her, and made her a little severe at times; something +connected with her life, or her father's life, in Samoa. One can only +guess, but white men take what are called native wives there very often +--and who can tell? Her father--but that is her secret! . . . While +I was right before the world, she was a good wife to me in her way. When +I went wrong, she treated me as if I were dead, and took her old name. +But if I could speak to her quietly once more, perhaps she would listen. +It would be no good at all to write. Perhaps she would never begin the +world with me again, but I should like to hear her say, 'I forgive you. +Good-bye.' There would be some comfort in a kind farewell from her. +You can see that, Dr. Marmion?" + +He paused, waiting for me to speak. "Yes, I can see that," I said; and +then I added: "Why did you not speak to her before you both came on board +at Colombo?" + +"I had no chance. I only saw her in the street, an hour before the ship +sailed. I had scarcely time to take my passage." + +Pain here checked his utterance, and when he recovered, he turned again +to me, and continued: "To-morrow night there is to be a fancy-dress ball +on board. I have been thinking. I could go in a good disguise. I could +speak to her, and attract no notice; and if she will not listen to me, +why, then, that ends it. I shall know the worst, and to know the worst +is good." + +"Yes," said I; "and what do you wish me to do?" + +"I wish to go in a disguise, of course; to dress in your cabin, if you +will let me. I cannot dress here, it would attract attention; and I am +not a first-class passenger." + +"I fear," I replied, "that it is impossible for me to assist you to the +privileges of a first-class passenger. You see, I am an officer of the +ship. But still I can help you. You shall leave this cabin to-night. +I will arrange so that you may transfer yourself to one in the first- +class section. . . . No, not a word; it must be as I wish in this. +You are ill; I can do you that kindness at least, and then, by right, you +can attend the ball, and, after it, your being among the first-class +passengers can make little difference; for you will have met and spoken +then, either to peace or otherwise." + +I had very grave doubts of any reconciliation; the substance of my +notable conversation with Mrs. Falchion was so prominent in my mind. +I feared she would only reproduce the case of Anson and his wife. I was +also afraid of a possible scene--which showed that I was not yet able to +judge of her resources. After a time, in which we sat silent, I said to +Madras: "But suppose she should be frightened?--should--should make a +scene?" + +He raised himself to a sitting posture. "I feel better," he said. Then, +answering my question: "You do not know her quite. She will not stir a +muscle. She has nerve. I have seen her in positions of great peril and +trial. She is not emotional, though I truly think she will wake one day +and find her heart all fire but not for me. Still, I say that all will +be quite comfortable, so far as any demonstration on her part is +concerned. She will not be melodramatic, I do assure you." + +"And the disguise--your dress?" inquired I. + +He rose from the berth slowly, and, opening a portmanteau, drew from it a +cloth of white and red, fringed with gold. It was of beautiful texture, +and made into the form of a toga or mantle. He said: "I was a seller of +such stuffs in Colombo, and these I brought with me, because I could not +dispose of them without sacrifice when I left hurriedly. I have made +them into a mantle. I could go as--a noble Roman, perhaps!" Then a +slight, ironical smile crossed his lips, and he stretched out his thin +but shapely arms, as if in derision of himself. + +"You will go as Menelaus the Greek," said I. + +"I as Menelaus the Greek?" The smile became a little grim. + +"Yes, as Menelaus; and I will go as Paris." I doubt not that my voice +showed a good deal of self-scorn at the moment; but there was a kind of +luxury in self-abasement before him. "Your wife, I know, intends to go +as Helen of Troy. It is all mumming. Let it stand so, as Menelaus and +Helen and Paris before there was any Trojan war, and as if there never +could be any--as if Paris went back discomfited, and the other two were +reconciled." + +His voice was low and broken. "I know you exaggerate matters, and +condemn yourself beyond reason," he replied. "I will do as you say. +But, Dr. Marmion, it will not be all mumming, as you shall see." + +A strange look came upon his face at this. I could not construe it; +and, after a few words of explanation regarding his transference to the +forward part of the ship, I left him. I found the purser, made the +necessary arrangements for him, and then sought my cabin, humbled in many +ways. I went troubled to bed. After a long wakefulness, I dozed away +into that disturbed vestibule of sleep where the world's happenings +mingle with the visions of unconsciousness. I seemed to see a man's +heart beating in his bosom in growing agonies, until, with one last +immense palpitation, it burst, and life was gone. Then the dream +changed, and I saw a man in the sea, drowning, who seemed never to drown +entirely, his hands ever beating the air and the mocking water. I +thought that I tried many times to throw him a lighted buoy in the half- +shadow, but some one held me back, and I knew that a woman's arms were +round me. + +But at last the drowning man looked up and saw the woman so, and, with a +last quiver of the arms, he sank from sight. When he was gone, the +woman's arms dropped away from me; but when I turned to speak to her, +she, too, had gone. + +I awoke. + +Two stewards were talking in the passage, and one was saying, "She'll get +under way by daybreak, and it will be a race with the 'Porcupine' to Aden. +How the engines are kicking below!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MUMMERS ALL + +The next day was beautiful, if not enjoyable. Stirring preparations +were being made for the ball. Boyd Madras was transferred to a cabin far +forward, but he did not appear at any meal in the saloon, or on deck. In +the morning I was busy in the dispensary. While I was there, Justine +Caron came to get some medicine that I had before given her. Her hand +was now nearly well. Justine had nerves, and it appeared to me that her +efforts to please her mistress, and her occasional failures, were wearing +her unduly. I said to her: "You have been worried, Miss Caron?" + +"Oh, no, Doctor," she quickly replied. + +I looked at her a little sceptically, and she said at last: "Well, +perhaps a little. You see, madame did not sleep well last night, and I +read to her. It was a little difficult, and there was not much choice of +books." + +"What did you read?" I asked mechanically, as I prepared her medicine. + +"Oh, some French novel first--De Maupassant's; but madame said he was +impertinent--that he made women fools and men devils. Then I tried some +modern English tales, but she said they were silly. I knew not what to +do. But there was Shakespeare. I read Antony and Cleopatra, and she +said that the play was grand, but the people were foolish except when +they died--their deaths were magnificent. Madame is a great critic; she +is very clever." + +"Yes, yes, I know that; but when did she fall asleep?" + +"About four o'clock in the morning. I was glad, because she is very +beautiful when she has much sleep." + +"And you--does not sleep concern you in this matter of madame?" + +"For me," she said, looking away, "it is no matter. I have no beauty. +Besides, I am madame's servant,"--she blushed slightly at this,"--and she +is generous with money." + +"Yes, and you like money so much?" + +Her eyes flashed a little defiantly as she looked me in the face. "It is +everything to me." + +She paused as if to see the effect upon me, or to get an artificial +(I knew it was artificial) strength to go on, then she added: "I love +money. I work for it; I would bear all for it--all that a woman could +bear. I--" But here she paused again, and, though the eyes still +flashed, the lips quivered. Hers was not the face of cupidity. It was +sensitive, yet firm, as with some purpose deep as her nature was by +creation and experience, and always deepening that nature. I suddenly +got the conviction that this girl had a sorrow of some kind in her life, +and that this unreal affection for money was connected with it. Perhaps +she saw my look of interest, for she hurriedly continued: "But, pardon +me, I am foolish. I shall be better when the pain is gone. Madame is +kind; she will let me sleep this afternoon, perhaps." + +I handed her the medicine, and then asked: "How long have you known Mrs. +Falchion, Miss Caron?" + +"Only one year." + +"Where did you join her?" + +"In Australia." + +"In Australia? You lived there?" + +"No, monsieur, I did not live there." + +A thought came to my mind--the nearness of New Caledonia to Australia, +and New Caledonia was a French colony--a French penal colony! I smiled +as I said the word penal to myself. Of course the word could have no +connection with a girl like her, but still she might have lived in the +colony. So I added quietly: "You perhaps had come from New Caledonia?" + +Her look was candid, if sorrowful. "Yes, from New Caledonia." + +Was she, thought I, the good wife of some convict--some political +prisoner?--the relative of some refugee of misfortune? Whatever she was, +I was sure that she was free from any fault. She evidently thought that +I might suspect something uncomplimentary of her, for she said: "My +brother was an officer at Noumea. He is dead. I am going to France, +when I can." + +I tried to speak gently to her. I saw that her present position must +be a trial. I advised her to take more rest, or she would break down +altogether, for she was weak and nervous; I hinted that she might have +to give up entirely, if she continued to tax herself heedlessly; and, +finally, that I would speak to Mrs. Falchion about her. I was scarcely +prepared for her action then. Tears came to her eyes, and she said to +me, her hand involuntarily clasping my arm: "Oh no, no! I ask you not to +speak to madame. I will sleep--I will rest. Indeed, I will. This +service is so much to me. She is most generous. It is because I am so +altogether hers, night and day, that she pays me well. And the money is +so much. It is my honour--my dead brother's honour. You are kind at +heart; you will make me strong with medicine, and I will ask God to bless +you. I could not suffer such poverty again. And then, it is my honour!" + +I felt that she would not have given way thus had not her nerves been +shaken, had she not lived so much alone, and irregularly, so far as her +own rest and comfort were concerned, and at such perpetual cost to her +energy. Mrs. Falchion, I knew, was selfish, and would not, or could not, +see that she was hard upon the girl, by such exactions as midnight +reading and loss of sleep. She demanded not merely physical but mental +energy--a complete submission of both; and when this occurred with a +sensitive, high-strung girl, she was literally feeding on another's life- +blood. If she had been told this, she, no doubt, would have been very +much surprised. + +I reassured Justine. I told her that I should say nothing directly +to Mrs. Falchion, for I saw she was afraid of unpleasantness; but I +impressed upon her that she must spare herself, or she would break down, +and extorted a promise that she would object to sitting up after midnight +to read to Mrs. Falchion. + +When this was done, she said: "But, you see, it is not madame's fault +that I am troubled." + +"I do not wish," I said, "to know any secret,--I am a doctor, not a +priest,--but if there is anything you can tell me, in which I might be +able to help you, you may command me in so far as is possible." +Candidly, I think I was too inquiring in those days. + +She smiled wistfully, and replied: "I will think of what you say so +kindly, and perhaps, some day soon, I will tell you of such trouble as +I have. But, believe me, it is no question of wrong at all, by any one +--now. The wrong is over. It is simply that a debt of honour must be +satisfied; it concerns my poor dead brother." + +"Are you going to relatives in France?" I asked. + +"No; I have no relatives, no near friends. I am alone in the world. My +mother I cannot remember; she died when I was very young. My father had +riches, but they went before he died. Still, France is home, and I must +go there." She turned her head away to the long wastes of sea. + +Little more passed between us. I advised her to come often on deck, and +mingle with the passengers; and told her that, when she pleased, I should +be glad to do any service that lay in my power. Her last words were +that, after we put into Aden, she would possibly take me at my word. + +After she had gone, I found myself wondering at my presentiment that Aden +was to be associated with critical points in the history of some of us; +and from that moment I began to connect Justine Caron with certain events +which, I felt sure, were marshalling to an unhappy conclusion. I +wondered, too, what part I should play in the development of the comedy, +tragedy, or whatever it was to be. In this connection I thought of Belle +Treherne, and of how I should appear in her eyes if that little scene +with Mrs. Falchion, now always staring me in the face, were rehearsed +before her. I came quickly to my feet, with a half-imprecation at +myself; and a verse of a crude sea-song was in my ears: + + "You can batten down cargo, live and dead, + But you can't put memory out of sight; + You can paint the full sails overhead, + But you can't make a black deed white. . . ." + +Angry, I said to myself: "It wasn't a black deed; it was foolish, it was +infatuation, it was not right, but it is common to shipboard; and I lost +my head, that was all." + +Some time later I was still at work in the dispensary, when I heard Mr. +Treherne's voice calling to me from outside. I drew back the curtain. +He was leaning on his daughter's arm, while in one hand he carried a +stick. "Ah, Doctor, Doctor," cried he, "my old enemy, sciatica, has me +in its grip, and why, in this warm climate, I can't understand. I'm +afraid I shall have to heave-to, like the 'Fulvia', and lay up for repairs. +And, by the way, I'm glad we are on our course again." He entered, and +sat down. Belle Treherne bowed to me gravely, and smiled slightly. The +smile was not peculiarly hospitable. I knew perfectly well that to +convince her of the reality of my growing admiration for her would be no +easy task; but I was determined to base my new religion of the affections +upon unassailable canons, and I felt that now I could do best by waiting +and proving myself. + +While I was arranging some medicine for Mr. Treherne, and advising him +on care against chills in a hot climate, he suddenly broke in with: "Dr. +Marmion, Captain Ascott tells me that we shall get to Aden by Tuesday +morning next. Now, I was asked by a friend of mine in London to visit +the grave of a son of his--a newspaper correspondent--who was killed in +one of the expeditions against the native tribes, and was buried in the +general cemetery at Aden. On the way out I was not able to fulfil the +commission, because we passed Aden in the night. But there will be +plenty of time to do so on Tuesday, I am told. This, however, is my +difficulty: I cannot go unless I am better, and I'm afraid there is no +such luck as that in store for me. These attacks last a week, at least. +I wish my daughter, however, to go. One of the ladies on board will go +with her--Mrs. Callendar, I believe; and I am going to be so bold as to +ask you to accompany them, if you will. I know you better than any +officer on board; and, besides, I should feel safer and better satisfied +if she went under the protection of an officer,--these barbarous places, +you know!--though, of course, it may be asking too much of you, or what +is impossible." + +I assented with pleasure. Belle Treherne was looking at the Latin names +on the bottles at the time, and her face showed no expression either of +pleasure or displeasure. Mr. Treherne said bluffly: "Dr. Marmion, you +are kind--very kind, and, upon my word, I'm much obliged." He then +looked at his daughter as if expecting her to speak. + +She looked up and said conventionally: "You are very kind, Dr. Marmion, +and I am much obliged." Then I thought her eyes twinkled with amusement +at her own paraphrase of her father's speech, and she added: "Mrs. +Callendar and myself will be much honoured indeed, and feel very +important in having an officer to attend us. Of course everybody else +will be envious, and, again of course, that will add to our vanity." + +At this she would have gone; but her father, who was suffering just +enough pain to enjoy anything that would divert his attention from it, +fell into conversation upon a subject of mutual interest, in which his +daughter joined on occasion, but not with enthusiasm. Yet, when they +came to go, she turned and said kindly, almost softly, as her fingers +touched mine: "I almost envy you your profession, Dr. Marmion. It opens +doors to so much of humanity and life." + +"There is no sin," I laughingly said, "in such a covetousness, and, +believe me, it can do no harm to me, at least." Then I added gravely: +"I should like my profession, in so far as I am concerned, to be worth +your envy." She had passed through the door before the last words were +said, but I saw that her look was not forbidding. + + ......................... + +Is there unhappiness anywhere? There is not a vexing toss of the sea, +not a cloud in the sky. Is not catastrophe dead, and the arrows of +tragedy spilled? Peace broadens into deep, perfumed dusk towards Arabia; +languor spreads towards the unknown lands of the farthest south. No +anxious soul leans out from the casement of life; the time is heavy with +delightful ease. There is no sound that troubles; the world goes by and +no one heeds; for it is all beyond this musky twilight and this pleasant +hour. In this palace on the sea Mirth trails in and out with airy and +harmonious footsteps. Even the clang-clang of eight bells has music--not +boisterous nor disturbing, but muffled in the velvety air. Then, through +this hemisphere of jocund quiet, there sounds the "All's well" of the +watch. + +But, look! Did you see a star fall just then, and the long avenue of +expiring flame behind it?--Do not shudder; it is nothing. No cry of pain +came through that brightness. There was only the "All's well" from the +watchers. + +The thud of the engines falls on a padded atmosphere, and the lascars +move like ghosts along the decks. The long, smooth promenade is canopied +and curtained, and hung with banners, and gay devices of the gorgeous +East are contributing to the federation of pleasure. + +And now, through a festooned doorway, there come the people of many lands +to inhabit the gay court. Music follows their footsteps: Hamlet and +Esther; Caractacus and Iphigenia; Napoleon and Hermione; The Man in the +Iron Mask and Sappho; Garibaldi and Boadicea; an Arab sheikh and Joan of +Arc; Mahomet and Casablanca; Cleopatra and Hannibal--a resurrected world. +But the illusion is short and slight. This world is very sordid--of +shreds and patches, after all. It is but a pretty masquerade, in which +feminine vanity beats hard against strangely-clothed bosoms; and +masculine conceit is shown in the work of the barber's curling-irons and +the ship-carpenter's wooden swords and paper helmets. The pride of these +folk is not diminished because Hamlet's wig gets awry, or a Roman has +trouble with his foolish garters. Few men or women can resist mumming; +they fancy themselves as somebody else, dead or living. Yet these seem +happy in this nonsense. The indolent days appear to have deadened +hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. They shall strut and fret +their hour upon this little stage. Let that sprightly girl forget the +sudden death which made her an orphan; the nervous broker his faithless +wife; the grey-haired soldier his silly and haunting sins; the bankrupt +his creditors. + +"On with the dance, let joy be unconfined!" For the captain is on the +bridge, the engineer is beneath; we have stout walls, and a ceaseless +sentry-go. In the intervals of the dance wine passes, and idle things +are said beside the draped and cushioned capstan or in the friendly gloom +of a boat, which, in the name of safety, hangs taut between its davits. +Let this imitation Cleopatra use the Cleopatra's arts; this mellow Romeo +(sometime an Irish landlord) vow to this coy Juliet; this Helen of Troy-- +Of all who walked these decks, mantled and wigged in characters not their +own, Mrs. Falchion was the handsomest, most convincing. With a graceful +swaying movement she passed along the promenade, and even envy praised +her. Her hand lay lightly on the arm of a brown stalwart native of the +Indian hills, fierce and savage in attire. Against his wild +picturesqueness and brawny strength, her perfectness of animal beauty, +curbed and rendered delicate by her inner coldness, showed in fine +contrast; and yet both were matched in the fine natural prowess of form. + +With a singular affirmation of what had been, after all, but a sadly- +humourous proposal, I had attired myself in a Greek costume--quickly made +by my steward, who had been a tailor--and was about to leave my cabin, +when Hungerford entered, and exclaimed, as he took his pipe from his +mouth in surprise: "Marmion, what does this mean? Don't you know your +duties better? No officer may appear at these flare-ups in costume other +than his uniform. You're the finest example of suburban innocence and +original sin I've seen this last quarter of a century, wherein I've kept +the world--and you--from tottering to destruction." He reached for one +of my cigars. + +Without a word, and annoyed at my own stupidity, I slowly divested myself +of the clothes of Greece; while Hungerford smoked on, humming to himself +occasionally a few bars of The Buccaneer's Bride, but evidently occupied +with something in his mind. At length he said: "Marmion, I said suburban +innocence and original sin, but you've a grip on the law of square and +compass too. I'll say that for you, old chap--and I hope you don't think +I'm a miserable prig." + +Still I replied nothing, but offered him one of my best cigars, taking +the other one from him, and held the match while he lighted it--which, +between men, is sufficient evidence of good-feeling. He understood, and +continued: "Of course you'll keep your eye on Mrs. Falchion and Madras +to-night: if he is determined that they shall meet, and you have arranged +it. I'd like to know how it goes before you turn in, if you don't mind. +And, I say, Marmion, ask Miss Treherne to keep a dance for me--a waltz-- +towards the close of the evening, will you? Excuse me, but she is the +thorough-bred of the ship. And if I have only one hop down the +promenade, I want it to be with a girl who'll remind me of some one that +is making West Kensington worth inhabiting. Only think, Marmion, of a +girl like her--a graduate in arts, whose name and picture have been in +all the papers--being willing to make up with me, Dick Hungerford! She +is as natural and simple as a girl can be, and doesn't throw Greek roots +at you, nor try to convince you of the difference between the songs of +the troubadours and the sonnets of Petrarch. She doesn't care a rap +whether Dante's Beatrice was a real woman or a principle; whether James +the First poisoned his son; or what's the margin between a sine and a +cosine. She can take a fence in the hunting-field like a bird--! Oh, +all right, just hold still, and I'll unfasten it." And he struggled with +a recalcitrant buckle. "Well, you'll not forget about Miss Treherne, +will you? She ought to go just as she is. Fancy-dress on her would be +gilding the gold; for, though she isn't surpassingly beautiful, she is +very fine, very fine indeed. There, now, you're yourself again, and look +all the better for it." + +By this time I was again in my uniform, and I sat down, and smoked, and +looked at Hungerford. His long gossip had been more or less detached, +and I had said nothing. I understood that he was trying, in his blunt, +honest way, to turn my thoughts definitely from Mrs. Falchion to Belle +Treherne; and he never seemed to me such a good fellow as at that moment. +I replied at last: "All right, Hungerford; I'll be your deputation, your +ambassador, to Miss Treherne. What time shall we see you on deck?" + +"About 11.40--just in time to trip a waltz on the edge of eight bells." + +"On the edge of Sunday, my boy." + +"Yes. Do you know, it is just four years ago tomorrow since I found Boyd +Madras on the No Man's Sea?" + +"Let us not talk of it," said I. + +"All right. I merely stated the fact because it came to me. I'm mum +henceforth. And I want to talk about something else. The first +officer,--I don't know whether you have noticed him lately, but I tell +you this: if we ever get into any trouble with this ship he'll go to +pieces. Why, the other night, when the engine got tangled, he was as +timid as a woman. That shock he had with the coal, as I said before, +has broken his nerve, big man as he is." + +"Hungerford," I said, "you do not generally croak, but you are earning +the character of the raven for yourself to-night. The thing is growing +on you. What IS the use of bringing up unpleasant subjects? You are an +old woman." I fear there was the slightest irritation in my voice; but, +truth is, the last few days' experiences had left their mark on me, and +Hungerford's speech and manner had suddenly grown trying. + +He stood for a moment looking at me with direct earnestness from under +his strong brows, and then he stepped forward, and, laying his hand upon +my arm, rejoined: "Do not be raw, Marmion. I'm only a blunt, stupid +sailor; and, to tell you God's truth, as I have told you before, every +sailor is superstitious--every real sailor. He can't help it--I can't. +I have a special fit on me now. Why don't I keep it to myself? Because +I'm selfish, and it does me good to talk. You and I are in one secret +together, and it has made me feel like sharing this thing with a pal, I +suppose." + +I seized his hand and begged his pardon, and called myself unpleasant +names, which he on the instant stopped, and said: "That's all right, +Marmy; shake till the knuckles crack! I'm off. Don't forget the dance." +He disappeared down the passage. + +Then I went on deck, and the scene which I have so imperfectly described +passed before me. Mrs. Falchion was surrounded with admirers all the +evening, both men and women; and two of the very stately English ladies +of title, to whom I before referred, were particularly gracious to her; +while she, in turn, bore herself with becoming dignity. I danced with +her once, and was down on her programme for another dance. I had also +danced with Belle Treherne, who appeared as Miriam, and was chaperoned by +one of the ladies of title; and I had also "sat out" one dance with her. +Chancing to pass her as the evening wore on, I saw her in conversation +with Mrs. Falchion, who had dismissed her cavalier, preferring to talk, +she said, for dancing was tiresome work on the Indian Ocean. Belle +Treherne, who up to that moment had never quite liked her, yielded to the +agreeable charm of her conversation and her frank applausive remarks upon +the costumes of the dancers. She had a good word for every one, and she +drew her companion out to make the most of herself, as women less often +do before women than in the presence of men. I am certain that her +interest in Belle Treherne was real, and likewise certain that she +cherished no pique against her because I had transferred my allegiance. +Indeed, I am sure that she had no deep feeling of injured pride where I +was concerned. Such after acidity as she sometimes showed was directed +against the foolish part I had played with her and my action in +subsequent events; it did not proceed from personal feeling or self- +value. + +Some time after this meeting I saw Boyd Madras issue from the companion- +way dressed as a Greek. He wore a false beard, and carried off well his +garments of white and scarlet and gold--a very striking and presentable +man. He came slowly forward, looking about him steadily, and, seeing me, +moved towards me. But for his manner I should scarcely have recognised +him. A dance was beginning; but many eyes were turned curiously, and +even admiringly, to him; for he looked singular and impressive and his +face was given fulness by a beard and flesh paints. I motioned him aside +where there was shadow, and said: "Well, you have determined to see her?" + +"Yes," he said; "and I wish you, if you will, to introduce me to her as +Mr. Charles Boyd. + +"You still think this wise?" I asked. + +"It is my earnest wish. I must have an understanding to-night." +He spoke very firmly, and showed no excitement. His manner was calm +and gentlemanly. + +He had a surprising air of decision. Supporting an antique character, he +seemed for the moment to have put on also something of antique strength +of mind, and to be no longer the timid invalid. "Then, come with me," I +answered. + +We walked in silence for a few minutes, and then, seeing where Mrs. +Falchion was, we advanced to her. The next dance on her programme was +mine. In my previous dance with her we had talked as we now did at +table--as we did the first hour I met her--impersonally, sometimes (I am +bold to say) amusingly. Now I approached her with apologies for being +late. The man beside her took his leave. She had only just glanced at +me at first, but now she looked at my companion, and the look stayed, +curious, bewildered. + +"It is fitting," I said, "that Greek meet Greek--that Menelaus should be +introduced to Helen. May I say that when Helen is not Helen she is Mrs. +Falchion, and when Menelaus is not Menelaus he is--Mr. Charles Boyd." + +I am afraid my voice faltered slightly, because there came over me +suddenly a nervousness as unexpected as it was inconvenient, and my +words, which began lightly, ended huskily. Had Madras miscalculated this +woman? + +Her eyes were afire, and her face was as pale as marble; all its slight +but healthy glow had fled. A very faint gasp came from her lips. I saw +that she recognised him, as he bowed and mentioned her name, following my +introduction. I knew not what might occur, for I saw danger in her eyes +in reply to the beseeching look in his. Would melodrama supervene after +all? She merely bowed towards me, as if to dismiss me, and then she +rose, took his arm, and moved away. The interview that follows came to +me from Boyd Madras afterwards. + +When they had reached the semi-darkness of the forward part of the ship, +she drew her hand quickly away, and, turning to him, said: "What is the +name by which you are called? One does not always hear distinctly when +being introduced." + +He did not understand what she was about to do, but he felt the deadly +coldness in her voice. "My name is known to you," he replied. He +steadied himself. + +"No, pardon me, I do not know it, for I do not know you. . . . I +never saw you before." She leaned her hand carelessly on the bulwarks. + +He was shocked, but he drew himself together. Their eyes were intent on +each other. "You do know me! Need I tell you that I am Boyd Madras?" +"Boyd Madras," she said, musing coldly. "A peculiar name." + +"Mercy Madras was your name until you called yourself Mrs. Falchion," he +urged indignantly, yet anxiously too. + +"It suits you to be mysterious, Mr.--ah yes, Mr. Boyd Madras; but, +really, you might be less exacting in your demands upon one's +imagination." Her look was again on him casually. + +He spoke breathlessly. "Mercy--Mercy--for God's sake, don't treat me +like this! Oh, my wife, I have wronged you every way, but I loved you +always--love you now. I have only followed you to ask you to forgive me, +after all these years. I saw you in Colombo just before you came on +board, and I felt that I must come also. You never loved me. Perhaps +that is better for you, but you do not know what I suffer. If you could +give me a chance, and come with me to America--anywhere, and let me start +the world again? I can--travel straight now, and I will work hard, and be +honest. I will--" But here sudden pain brought back the doubt concerning +his life and its possibilities. + +He leaned against the bulwarks, and made a helpless, despairing motion +with his hand. "No, no!" he said; and added with a bitter laugh: "Not +to begin the world again, but to end it as profitably and silently as I +can. . . . But you will listen to me, my wife? You will say at least +that you forgive me the blight and ill I brought upon you?" + +She had listened to him unmoved outwardly. Her reply was instant. "You +are more melodramatic than I thought you capable of being--from your +appearance," she said in a hard tone. "Your acting is very good, but not +convincing. I cannot respond as would become the unity and sequence of +the play. . . . I have no husband. My husband is dead--I buried him +years ago. I have forgotten his name--I buried that too." + +All the suffering and endured scorn of years came to revolt in him. He +leaned forward now, and caught her wrist. "Have you no human feeling?" +he said "no heart in you at all? Look. I have it in me here suddenly to +kill you as you stand. You have turned my love to hate. From your +smooth skin there I could strip those rags, and call upon them all to +look at you--my wife--a felon's wife; mine to have and to hold--to hold, +you hear!--as it was sworn at the altar. I bare my heart to you, +repenting, and you mock it, torture it, with your undying hate and +cruelty. You have no heart, no life. This white bosom is all of you +--all of your power to make men love you--this, and your beauty. All +else, by God, is cruel as the grave!" + +His voice had sunk to a hoarse whisper. She had not sought to remove his +hand, nor struggled in the least; and once it seemed as if this new +development of his character, this animal fierceness, would conquer her: +she admired courage. It was not so. He trembled with weakness before he +had finished. He stopped too soon; he lost. + +"You will find such parts exhausting to play," she murmured, as he let +her arm fall. "It needs a strong physique to endure exaggerated, nervous +sentiment. And now, please, let us perform less trying scenes." Then, +with a low, cold anger, she continued: "It is only a coward that will dog +a woman who finds his presence insupportable to her. This woman cannot, +if she would, endure this man's presence; it is her nature. Well, why +rush blindly at the impossible? She wishes to live her spoiled life +alone. The man can have no part in it--never, never! But she has money. +If in that way--" + +He stretched out his hand protestingly, the fingers spread in excitement. +"No more--not another word!" he said. "I ask for forgiveness, for one +word of kindness--and I am offered money! the fire that burned me to eat, +instead of bread! I had a wife once," he added in a kind of troubled +dream, looking at her as if she were very far away, "and her name was +Mercy--her name was Mercy--Mercy Madras. I loved her. I sinned for her +sake. A message came that she was dead to me; but I could not believe +that it was so altogether, for I had knelt at her feet and worshipped +her. I went to her, but she sent me away angrily. Years passed. 'She +will have relented now,' I said, and I followed her, and found her as I +thought. But it was not she; it was a wicked ghost in her beautiful +body--nothing more. And then I turned away and cursed all things, +because I knew that I should never see my wife again. Mercy Madras +was dead. . . . Can you not hear the curses?" + +Still she was unmoved. She said with a cruel impatience in her voice: +"Yes, Mercy Madras is dead. How then can she forgive? What could her +ghost--as you call her--do, but offer the thing which her husband--when +he was living--loved so well that he sold himself into bondage, and +wrecked his world and hers for it--Money? Well, money is at his +disposal, as she said before--" + +But she spoke no more. The man in him straight way shamed her into +silence with a look. She bowed her head, yet not quite in shame, for +there was that in her eyes which made her appear as if his suffering was +a gratuitous infliction. But at this moment he was stronger, and he drew +her eyes up by the sheer force of his will. "I need no money now," he +coldly declared. "I need nothing--not even you; and can you fancy that, +after waiting all these years for this hour, money would satisfy me? +Do you know," he continued slowly and musingly, "I can look upon you now +--yes, at this moment--with more indifference than you ever showed to me? +A moment ago I loved you: now I think you horrible; because you are no +woman; you have a savage heart. And some day you will suffer as I do, so +terribly that even the brazen serpent could not cure you. Then you will +remember me." + +He was about to leave her, but he had not taken two steps before he +turned, with all the anger and the passion softened in his eyes, and +said, putting his hand out towards yet not to touch her, "Good-bye--for +the last time." And then the look was such as might be turned upon a +forgiven executioner. + +"Good-night," she replied, and she did not look into his eyes, but out to +sea. Her eyes remained fixed upon its furtive gloom. She too was +furtive and gloomy at this moment. They were both sleek, silent, and +remorseless. There was a slight rustle to her dress as she changed her +position. It was in grim keeping with the pitiless rustle of the sea. + +And so they parted. I saw him move on towards the companion-way, and +though I felt instinctively that all had gone ill with him, I was +surprised to see how erect he walked. After a minute I approached her. +She heard me coming, and presently turned to me with a curious smile. +"Who is Mr. Charles Boyd?" she asked. "I did not pierce his disguise. +I could not tell whether I had met him on board before. Have I? But my +impression is that I had not seen him on the ship." + +"No, you had not seen him," I replied. "He had a fancy to travel, until +yesterday, with the second-class passengers. Now he has a first-class +cabin--in his proper place, in fact." + +"You think so--in his proper place?" The suggestion was not pleasant. + +"Assuredly. Why do you speak in that way?" was my indignant reply. + +She took my arm as we moved on. "Because he was slightly rude to me." + +I grew bold, and determined to bring her to some sort of reckoning. + +"How rude were you to him?" + +"Not rude at all. It is not worth while being so--to anybody," was her +chilly answer. + +"I was under the impression you had met him before," I said gravely. + +"Indeed? And why?" She raised her eyebrows at me. I pushed the matter +to a conclusion. "He was ill the other day--he has heart trouble. It +was necessary for me to open the clothes about his neck. On his breast +I saw a little ivory portrait of a woman's head." + +"A woman's head," she repeated absently, and her fingers idly toyed with +a jingling ornament in her belt. In an idle moment I had sketched the +head, as I remembered it, on a sheet of paper, and now I took it from my +pocket and handed it to her. We were standing near a port-hole of the +music saloon, from which light streamed. + +"That is the head," said I. + +She deliberately placed the paper in the belt of light, and, looking at +it, remarked mechanically: "This is the head, is it?" She showed no +change of countenance, and handed it back to me as if she had seen no +likeness. "It is very interesting," she said, "but one would think you +might make better use of your time than by surreptitiously sketching +portraits from sick men's breasts. One must have plenty of leisure to do +that sort of thing, I should think. Be careful that you do not get into +mischief, Dr. Marmion." She laughed. "Besides, where was the special +peculiarity in that portrait that you should treasure it in pencil so +conventionally?--Your drawing is not good.--Where was the point or need?" + +"I have no right to reply to that directly," I responded. "But this +man's life is not for always, and if anything happened to him it would +seem curious to strangers to find that on his breast--because, of course, +more than I would see it there." + +"If anything happened? What should happen? You mean, on board ship?" +There was a little nervousness in her tone now. + +"I am only hinting at an awkward possibility," I replied. + +She looked at me scornfully. "When did you see that picture on his +breast?" I told her. "Ah! before THAT day?" she rejoined. I knew +that she referred to the evening when I had yielded foolishly to the +fascination of her presence. The blood swam hotly in my face. "Men are +not noble creatures," she continued. + +"I am afraid you would not give many their patents of nobility if you had +power to bestow them," I answered. + +"Most men at the beginning, and very often ever after, are ignoble +creatures. Yet I should confer the patents of nobility, if it were my +prerogative; for some would succeed in living up to them. Vanity would +accomplish that much. Vanity is the secret of noblesse oblige; not +radical virtue--since we are beginning to be bookish again." + +"To what do you reduce honour and right?" returned I. + +"As I said to you on a memorable occasion," she answered very drily, "to +a code." + +"That is," rejoined I, "a man does a good action, lives an honourable +life, to satisfy a social canon--to gratify, say, a wife or mother, who +believes in him, and loves him?" + +"Yes." She was watching Belle Treherne promenading with her father. She +drew my attention to it by a slight motion of the hand, but why I could +not tell. + +"But might not a man fall by the same rule of vanity?" I urged. "That +he shall appear well in their eyes, that their vanity in turn should be +fed, might he not commit a crime, and so bring misery?" + +"Yes, it is true either way--pleasure or misery. Please come to the +saloon and get me an ice before the next dance." + +I was perplexed. Was she altogether soulless? Even now, as we passed +among the dancers, she replied to congratulations on her make-up and +appearance with evident pleasure. + +An hour later, I was taking Belle Treherne from the arm of Hungerford for +the last waltz, and, in reply to an inquiring glance from him, I shook my +head mournfully. His face showed solicitude as he walked away. Perhaps +it did not gratify my vanity that Belle Treherne, as her father limped +forward at the stroke of eight bells to take her below, said to me: "How +downright and thorough Mr. Hungerford is!" But I frankly admitted that +he was all she might say good of him, and more. + +The deck was quickly dismantled, the lights went out, and all the dancers +disappeared. The masquerade was over; and again, through the darkness, +rose the plaintive "All's well!" And it kept ringing in my ears until it +became a mocking sound, from which I longed to be free. It was like the +voice of Lear crying over the body of Cordelia: "Never, never, never, +never, never!" + +Something of Hungerford's superstitious feeling possessed me. I went +below, and involuntarily made my way to Boyd Madras's cabin. + +Though the night was not hot, the door was drawn to. I tapped. His +voice at once asked who was there, and when I told him, and inquired how +he was, he said he was not ill, and asked me to come to his cabin in the +morning, if I would. I promised, and bade him good-night. He responded, +and then, as I turned away from the door, I heard him repeat the good- +night cordially and calmly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WHEEL COMES FULL CIRCLE + +The next morning I was up early, and went on deck. The sun had risen, +and in the moist atmosphere the tints of sky and sea were beautiful. +Everywhere was the warm ocean undulating lazily to the vague horizon. +A few lascars were still cleansing the decks; others were seated on their +haunches between decks, eating curry from a calabash; a couple of +passengers were indolently munching oranges; and Stone the quartermaster +was inspecting the work lately done by the lascars. Stone gave me a +pleasant good-morning, and we walked together the length of the deck +forward. I had got about three-fourths of the length back again, when I +heard a cry from aft--a sharp call of "Man overboard!" In a moment I had +travelled the intermediate deck, and was at the stern, looking below, +where, in the swirling waters, was the head of a man. With cries of "Man +overboard!" I threw two or three buoys after the disappearing head, +above which a bare arm thrust itself. I heard the rush of feet behind +me, and in a moment Hungerford and Stone were beside me. The signal was +given for the engines to stop; stewards and lascars came running on deck +in response to Hungerford's call, and the first officer now appeared. +Very soon a crew was gathered on the after-deck, about a boat on the port +side. + +Passengers by this time showed in various stages of dressing-- +women wringing their hands, men gesticulating. If there is anything +calculated to send a thrill of awe through a crowd, it is the cry of "Man +overboard!" And when one looked below, and saw above the drowning head +two white arms thrust from the sea, a horrible thing was brought home to +each of us. Besides, the scene before us on the deck was not reassuring. +There was trouble in getting the boat lowered. The first officer was +excited, the lascars were dazed, the stewards were hurried without being +confident; only Hungerford, Stone, and the gunner were collected. The +boat should have been launched in a minute, but still it hung between its +davits; its course downward was interrupted; something was wrong with the +ropes, "A false start, by --- !" said the bookmaker, looking through his +eye-glass. Colonel Ryder's face was stern, Clovelly was pale and +anxious, as moment after moment went, and the boat was not yet free. +Ages seemed to pass before the boat was let down even with the bulwarks, +and a crew of ten, with Hungerford in command, were in it, ready to be +lowered. Whether the word was given to lower, or whether it was any +one's fault, may never perhaps be known; but, as the boat hung there, +suddenly it shot down at the stern, some one having let go the ropes at +that end; and the bow being still fast, it had fallen like a trap-door. +It seemed, on the instant, as if the whole crew were tossed into the +water; but some had successfully clutched the boat's side, and Hungerford +hung by a rope with one hand. In the eddying water, however, about the +reversing screw, were two heads, and farther off was a man struggling. +The face of one of the men near the screw was upturned for a moment; it +was that of Stone the quartermaster. + +A cry went up from the passengers, and they swayed forward to the +suspended boat; but Colonel Ryder turned almost savagely upon them. +"Keep quiet!" he said. "Stand back! What can you do? Give the +officers a chance." He knew that there had been a false start, and bad +work indeed; but he also saw that the task of the officers must not be +made harder. His sternness had effect. The excited passengers drew +back, and I took his place in front of them. When the first effort had +been made to lower the boat, I asked the first officer if I could +accompany the crew, but he said no. I could, therefore, do nothing but +wait. A change came on the crowd. It became painfully silent, none +speaking save in whispers, and all watching with anxious faces either the +receding heads in the water or the unfortunate boat's crew. Hungerford +showed himself a thorough sailor. Hanging to the davit, he quietly, +reassuringly, gave the order for righting the boat, virtually taking the +command out of the hands of the first officer, who was trembling with +nervousness. Hungerford was right; this man's days as a sailor were +over. The accident from which he had suffered had broken his nerve, +stalwart as he was. But Hungerford was as cool as if this were ordinary +boat-practice. Soon the boat was drawn up again, and others took the +place of those who had disappeared. Then it was lowered safely, and, +with Hungerford erect in the bows, it was pulled swiftly along the path +we had come. + +At length, too, the great ship turned round, but not in her tracks. It +is a pleasant fiction that these great steamers are easily managed. They +can go straight ahead, but their huge proportions are not adapted for +rapid movement. However, the work of rescue was begun. Sailors were +aloft on watch, Captain Ascott was on the bridge, sweeping the sea with +his glass; order was restored. But the ship had the feeling of a home +from which some familiar inmate had been taken, to return no more. +Children clasped their mothers' hands and said, "Mother, was it the poor +quartermaster?" and men who the day before had got help from the petty +officers in the preparation of costumes, said mournfully: "Fife the +gunner was one of them." + +But who was the man first to go overboard--and who was it first gave +the alarm? There were rumours, but no one was sure. All at once I +remembered something peculiar in that cry of "Man overboard!" and it +shocked me. I hurried below, and went to the cabin of Boyd Madras. It +was empty; but on a shelf lay a large envelope, addressed to Hungerford +and myself. I tore it open. There was a small packet, which I knew +contained the portrait he had worn on his bosom, addressed to Mrs. +Falchion; and the other was a single sheet directed to me, fully written +upon, and marked in the corner: "To be made public." + +So, he had disappeared from the play? He had made his exit? He had +satisfied the code at last? Before opening the letter addressed to me, +I looked round. His clothes were folded upon one of the berths; but the +garments of masquerade were not in the cabin. Had he then gone out of +the world in the garb of a mummer? Not altogether, for the false beard +he had worn the night before lay beside the clothes. But this terrible +earnestness of his would look strange in last night's disguise. + +I opened the packet addressed to Hungerford and myself, and saw that it +contained a full and detailed account of his last meeting with his wife. +The personal letter was short. He said that his gratitude was +unspeakable, and now must be so for ever. He begged us not to let the +world know who he was, nor his relationship to Mrs. Falchion, unless she +wished it; he asked me to hand privately to her the packet bearing her +name. Lastly, he requested that the paper for the public be given to the +captain of the 'Fulvia'. + +Going out into the passage, I found a steward, who hurriedly told me that +just before the alarm was given he had seen Boyd Madras going aft in that +strange costume, which he mistook for a dressing-gown, and he had come to +see if, by any chance, it was he who had gone overboard. I told him that +it was. He disappeared, and soon the whole ship knew it. I went to the +captain, gave him the letter, and told him only what was necessary to +tell. He was on the bridge, and was occupied with giving directions, so +he asked me the substance of the letter, and handed it back to me, +requesting me to make a copy of it soon and leave it in his cabin. I +then took all the papers to my cabin, and locked them up. I give here +the substance of the letter which was to be made public: + + Because you know how much I have suffered physically while on board + this ship, and because you have been kind to me, I wish, through + you, to say my last word to the world: though, indeed, this may seem + a strange form for gratitude to take. Dying men, however, make few + apologies, and I shall make none. My existence, as you know, is an + uncertain quantity, and may be cut short at any moment in the + ordinary course of things. But I have no future in the active + concerns of life; no past on which to dwell with satisfaction; no + friends to mourn for my misfortunes in life, nor for my death, + whether it be peaceful or violent; therefore, I have fewer + compunctions in ending a mistaken career and a worthless life. + + Some one will profit by my death: who it is matters not, for it is + no friend of mine. My death adjusts a balance, perhaps not nicely, + yet it does it. And this is all I have to say. . . . I am + going. Farewell. . . . + +After a brief farewell to me added, there came the subscription "Charles +Boyd;" and that was all. Why he cried out "Man overboard" (for now I +recognised that it was his voice which gave the alarm), I do not know, +except that he wished his body to be recovered, and to receive burial. + +Just here, some one came fumbling at the curtain of my cabin. I heard a +gasp--"Doctor--my head! quick!" + +I looked out. As I drew the curtain a worthless lascar sailor fell +fainting into my cabin. He had been drinking a good deal, and the horror +and excitement of the accident had brought on an apoplectic fit. This in +a very hot climate is suddenly fatal. In three minutes, in spite of me, +he was dead. Postponing report of the matter, I went on deck again among +the passengers. + +I expected that Mrs. Falchion would be among them, for the news must have +gone to every part of the ship; but she was not there. On the outskirts +of one of the groups, however, I saw Justine Caron. I went to her, and +asked her if Mrs. Falchion had risen. She said that she had not: that +she had been told of the disaster, and had appeared shocked; but had +complained of a headache, and had not risen. I then asked Justine if +Mrs. Falchion had been told who the suicide was, and was answered in the +negative. At that moment a lady came to me and said in an awed whisper: +"Dr. Marmion, is it true that the man who committed suicide was a second- +class passenger, and that he appeared at the ball last night, and danced +with Mrs. Falchion?" + +I knew that my reply would soon become common property, so I said: + +"He was a first-class passenger, though until yesterday he travelled +second-class. I knew him. His name was Charles Boyd. I introduced him +to Mrs. Falchion last night, but he did not stay long on deck, because he +felt ill. He had heart trouble. You may guess that he was tired of +life." Then I told her of the paper which was for the public, and she +left me. + +The search for the unfortunate men went on. No one could be seen near +the floating buoys which were here and there picked up by Hungerford's +boat. The long undulations of the water had been broken up in a large +area about the ship, but the sea was still comparatively smooth. We were +steaming back along the track we had come. There was less excitement on +board than might be expected. The tropical stillness of the air, the +quiet suddenness of the tragedy itself, the grim decisiveness of +Hungerford, the watchful silence of a few men like Colonel Ryder and +Clovelly, had effect upon even the emotion of those women, everywhere +found, who get a morbid enjoyment out of misery. + +Nearly all were watching the rescue boat, though a few looked over the +sides of the ship as if they expected to find bodies floating about. +They saw sharks, instead, and a trail of blood, and this sent them away +sickened from the bulwarks. Then they turned their attention again upon +the rescue party. It was impossible not to note what a fine figure +Hungerford made, as he stood erect in the bow, his hand over his eyes, +searching the water. Presently we saw him stop the boat, and something +was drawn in. He signalled the ship. He had found one man--but dead or +alive? The boat was rapidly rowed back to the ship, Hungerford making +efforts for resuscitation. Arrived at the vessel, the body was passed up +to me. + +It was that of Stone the quartermaster. I worked to bring back life, but +it was of no avail. A minute after, a man in the yards signalled that he +saw another. It was not a hundred yards away, and was floating near the +surface. It was a strange sight, for the water was a vivid green, and +the man wore garments of white and scarlet, and looked a part of some +strange mosaic: as one has seen astonishing figures set in balls of solid +glass. This figure framed in the sea was Boyd Madras. The boat was +signalled, it drew near, and two men dragged the body in, as a shark +darted forward, just too late, to seize it. The boat drew alongside the +'Fulvia'. I stood at the gangway to receive this castaway. I felt his +wrist and heart. As I did so I chanced to glance up at the passengers, +who were looking at this painful scene from the upper deck. There, +leaning over the railing, stood Mrs. Falchion, her eyes fixed with a +shocking wonder at the drooping, weird figure. Her lips parted, but at +first they made no sound. Then, she suddenly drew herself up with a +shudder. "Horrible! horrible!" she said, and turned away. + +I had Boyd Madras taken to an empty cabin next to mine, which I used for +operations, and there Hungerford and myself worked to resuscitate him. +We allowed no one to come near. I had not much hope of bringing life +back, but still we worked with a kind of desperation, for it seemed to +Hungerford and myself that somehow we were responsible to humanity for +him. His heart had been weak, but there had been no organic trouble: +only some functional disorder, which open-air life and freedom from +anxiety might have overcome. Hungerford worked with an almost fierce +persistence. Once he said: "By God, I will bring him back, Marmion, to +face that woman down when she thinks she has got the world on the hip!" + +I cannot tell what delight we felt when, after a little time, I saw a +quiver of the eyelids and a slight motion of the chest. Presently a +longer breath came, and the eyes opened; at first without recognition. +Then, in a few moments, I knew that he was safe--desperately against his +will, but safe. + +His first sentient words startled me. He gasped, "Does she think I am +drowned?" + +"Yes." + +"Then she must continue to do so!" + +"Why?" + +"Because"--here he spoke faintly, as if sudden fear had produced +additional weakness--"because I had rather die a thousand deaths than +meet her now; because she hates me. I must begin the world again. You +have saved my life against my will: I demand that you give that life its +only chance of happiness." + +As his words came to me, I remembered with a start the dead lascar, and, +leading Hungerford to my cabin, I pointed to the body, and whispered that +the sailor's death was only known to me. "Then this is the corpse of +Boyd Madras, and we'll bury it for him," he said with quick bluntness. +"Do not report this death to Captain Ascott--he would only raise +objections to the idea. This lascar was in my watch. It will be +supposed he fell overboard during the accident to the boat. Perhaps some +day the funeral of this nigger will be a sensation and surprise to her +blessed ladyship on deck." + +I suggested that it seemed underhand and unprofessional, but the +entreating words of the resuscitated man in the next room conquered my +objections. + +It was arranged that Madras should remain in the present cabin, of which +I had a key, until we reached Aden; then he should, by Hungerford's aid, +disappear. + +We were conspirators, but we meant harm to nobody. I covered up the face +of the dead lascar and wrapped round him the scarlet and gold cloth that +Madras had worn. Then I got a sailor, who supposed Boyd Madras was +before him, and the body was soon sewed in its shotted shroud and carried +to where Stone the quartermaster lay. + +At this day I cannot suppose I would do these things, but then it seemed +right to do as Madras wished: he was, under a new name, to begin life +afresh. + +After giving directions for the disposition of the bodies, I went on +deck. Mrs. Falchion was still there. Some one said to her: "Did you +know the man who committed suicide?" + +"He was introduced to me last night by Dr. Marmion," she replied, and she +shuddered again, though her face showed no remarkable emotion. She had +had a shock to the senses, not to the heart. + +When I came to her on the deck, Justine was saying to her: "Madame, you +should not have come. You should not see such painful things when you +are not well." + +She did not reply to this. She looked up at me and said: "A strange +whim, to die in those fanciful rags. It is dreadful to see; but he had +the courage." + +I replied: "They have as much courage who make men do such things and +then live on." + +Then I told her briefly that I held the packet for her, that I guessed +what was in it, and that I would hand it to her later. I also said that +he had written to me the record of last night's meeting with her, and +that he had left a letter which was to be made public. As I said these +things we were walking the decks, and, because eyes were on both of us, +I tried to show nothing more unusual in manner than the bare tragedy +might account for. + +"Well," she said, with a curious coldness, "what use shall you make of +your special knowledge?" + +"I intend," I said, "to respect his wish, that your relationship to him +be kept unknown, unless you declare otherwise." + +"That is reasonable. If he had always been as reasonable! And," she +continued, "I do not wish the relationship to be known: practically there +is none. . . . Oh! oh!" she added, with a sudden change in her +voice, "why did he do as he did, and make everything else impossible-- +impossible! . . . Send me, or give me the packet, when you wish: and +now please leave me, Dr. Marmion." + +The last few words were spoken with some apparent feeling, but I knew she +was thinking of herself most, and I went from her angry. + +I did not see her again before the hour that afternoon when we should +give the bodies of the two men to the ocean. No shroud could be prepared +for gunner Fife and able-seaman Winter, whose bodies had no Christian +burial, but were swallowed by the eager sea, not to be yielded up even +for a few hours. We were now steaming far beyond the place where they +were lost. + +The burial was an impressive sight, as burials at sea mostly are. The +lonely waters stretching to the horizon helped to make it so. There was +a melancholy majesty in the ceremony. + +The clanging bell had stopped. Captain Ascott was in his place at the +head of the rude draped bier. In the silence one only heard the swish of +water against the 'Fulvia's' side, as we sped on towards Aden. People do +not know how beautiful, how powerful, is the burial service in the Book +of Common Prayer, who have only heard it recited by a clergyman. To hear +it read by a hardy man, whose life is among stern duties, is to receive a +new impression. He knows nothing of lethargic monotone; he interprets as +he reads. And when the man is the home-spun captain of a ship, who sees +before him the poor shell of one that served him for ten years, "The Lord +gave and the Lord hath taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord," has +a strange significance. It is only men who have borne the shock of toil +and danger, and have beaten up against the world's buffetings, that are +fit to say last words over those gone down in the storm or translated in +the fiery chariot of duty. + +The engines suddenly stopped. The effect was weird. Captain Ascott's +fingers trembled, and he paused for an instant and looked down upon the +dead, then out sorrowfully to the waiting sea, before he spoke the words, +"We therefore commit their bodies to the deep." But, the moment they +were uttered, the bier was lifted, there was a swift plunge, and only the +flag and the empty boards were left. The sobbing of women now seemed +almost unnatural; for around us was the bright sunlight, the gay dresses +of the lascars, the sound of the bell striking the hours, and children +playing on the deck. The ship moved on. + +And Mrs. Falchion? As the burial service was read, she had stood, and +looked, not at the bier, but straight out to sea, calm and apparently +unsympathetic, though, as she thought, her husband was being buried. +When, however, the weighted body divided the water with a swingeing +sound, her face suddenly suffused, as though shame had touched her or +some humiliating idea had come. But she turned to Justine almost +immediately, and soon after said calmly: "Bring a play of Moliere, and +read to me, Justine." + +I had the packet her supposed dead husband had left for her in my pocket. +I joined her, and we paced the deck, at first scarcely speaking, while +the passengers dispersed, some below, some to the smoking-rooms, some +upon deck-chairs to doze through the rest of the lazy afternoon. The +world had taken up its orderly course again. At last, in an unfrequented +corner of the deck, I took the packet from my pocket and handed it to +her. "You understand?" I asked. + +"Yes, I understand. And now, may I beg that for the rest of your natural +life"--here she paused, and bit her lip in vexation that the unlucky +phrase had escaped her--"you will speak of this no more?" + +"Mrs. Boyd Madras," I said (here she coloured indignantly),--"pardon me +for using the name, but it is only this once,--I shall never speak of the +matter to you again, nor to any one else, unless there is grave reason." + +We walked again in silence. Passing the captain's cabin, we saw a number +of gentlemen gathered about the door, while others were inside. We +paused, to find what the incident was. Captain Ascott was reading the +letter which Boyd Madras had wished to be made public. (I had given it +to him just before the burial, and he was acting as though Boyd Madras +was really dead--he was quite ignorant of our conspiracy.) I was about to +move on, but Mrs. Falchion touched my arm. "Wait," she said. She stood +and heard the letter through. Then we walked on, she musing. Presently +she said: "It is a pity--a pity." + +I looked at her inquiringly, but she offered no explanation of the +enigmatical words. But, at this moment, seeing Justine waiting, she +excused herself, and soon I saw her listening to Moliere. Later in the +day I saw her talking with Miss Treherne, and it struck me that she had +never looked so beautiful as then, and that Miss Treherne had never +seemed so perfect a product of a fine convention. But, watching them +together, one who had had any standard of good life could never have +hesitated between the two. It was plain to me that Mrs. Falchion was +bent upon making a conquest of this girl who so delicately withstood her; +and Belle Treherne has told me since, that, when in her presence, and +listening to her, she was irresistibly drawn to her; though at the same +time she saw there was some significant lack in her nature; some hardness +impossible to any one who had ever known love. She also told me that on +this occasion Mrs. Falchion did not mention my name, nor did she ever in +their acquaintance, save in the most casual fashion. Her conversation +with Miss Treherne was always far from petty gossip or that smart comedy +in which some women tell much personal history, with the guise of +badinage and bright cynicism. I confess, though, it struck me +unpleasantly at the time, that this fresh, high-hearted creature should +be in familiar conversation with a woman who, it seemed to me, was the +incarnation of cruelty. + +Mrs. Falchion subscribed most liberally to the fund raised for the +children of the quartermaster and munificently to that for the crew which +had, under Hungerford, performed the rescue work. The only effect of +this was to deepen the belief that she was very wealthy, and could spend +her money without affectation; for it was noticeable that she, of all on +board, showed the least outward excitement at the time of the disaster. +It occurred to me that once or twice I had seen her eyes fixed on +Hungerford inquisitively, and not free from antipathy. It was something +behind her usual equanimity. Her intuitive observation had led her to +trace his hand in recent events. Yet I know she admired him too for his +brave conduct. The day following the tragedy we were seated at dinner. +The captain and most of the officers had risen, but Mrs. Falchion, having +come in late, was still eating, and I remained seated also. Hungerford +approached me, apologising for the interruption. He remarked that he was +going on the bridge, and wished to say something to me before he went. +It was an official matter, to which Mrs. Falchion apparently did not +listen. When he was about to turn away, he bowed to her rather +distantly; but she looked up at him and said, with an equivocal smile: + +"Mr. Hungerford, we often respect brave men whom we do not like." + +Then he, understanding her, but refusing to recognise the compliment, not +altogether churlishly replied: "And I might say the same of women, Mrs. +Falchion; but there are many women we dislike who are not brave." + +"I think I could recognise a brave man without seeing his bravery," she +urged. + +"But I am a blundering sailor," he rejoined, "who only believes his +eyes." + +"You are young yet," she replied. + +"I shall be older to-morrow," was his retort. + +"Well, perhaps you will see better to-morrow," she rejoined, with +indolent irony. + +"If I do, I'll acknowledge it," he added. Then Hungerford smiled at me +inscrutably. We two held a strange secret. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A BRIDGE OF PERIL + +No more delightful experience may be had than to wake up in the harbour +of Aden some fine morning--it is always fine there--and get the first +impression of that mighty fortress, with its thousand iron eyes, in +strong repose by the Arabian Sea. Overhead was the cloudless sun, and +everywhere the tremulous glare of a sandy shore and the creamy wash of +the sea, like fusing opals. A tiny Mohammedan mosque stood gracefully +where the ocean almost washed its steps, and the Resident's house, far up +the hard hillside, looked down upon the harbour from a green coolness. +The place had a massive, war-like character. Here was a battery with +earthworks; there, a fort; beyond, a signal-staff. Hospitals, hotels, +and stores were incidents in the picture. Beyond the mountain-wall and +lofty Jebel Shamsan, rising in fine pink and bronze, and at the end of a +high-walled path between the great hills, lay the town of Aden proper. +Above the town again were the mighty Tanks, formed out of clefts in the +mountains, and built in the times when the Phoenicians made Aden a great +mart, the richest spot in all Arabia. + +Over to the left, on the opposite side of the harbour, were wide +bungalows shining in the sun, and flanking the side of the ancient +aqueduct, the gigantic tomb of an Arab sheikh. In the harbour were the +men-of-war of all nations, and Arab dhows sailed slowly in, laden with +pilgrims for Mecca--masses of picturesque sloth and dirt--and disease +also; for more than one vessel flew the yellow flag. As we looked, a +British man-of-war entered the gates of the harbour in the rosy light. +It was bringing back the disabled and wounded from a battle, in which a +handful of British soldiers were set to punish thirty times their number +in an unknown country. But there was another man-of-war in port with +which we were familiar. We passed it far out on the Indian Ocean. It +again passed us, and reached Aden before we did. The 'Porcupine' lay not +far from the 'Fulvia', and as I leaned over the bulwarks, idly looking at +her, a boat shot away from her side, and came towards us. As it drew +near, I saw that it was filled with luggage--a naval officer's, I knew it +to be. As the sailors hauled it up, I noticed that the initials upon the +portmanteaus were G. R. The owner was evidently an officer going home on +leave, or invalided. It did not, however, concern me, as I thought, and +I turned away to look for Mr. Treherne, that I might fulfil my promise to +escort his daughter and Mrs. Callendar to the general cemetery at Aden; +for I knew he was not fit to do the journey, and there was nothing to +prevent my going. + +A few hours later I stood with Miss Treherne and Mrs. Callendar in the +graveyard beside the fortress-wall, placing wreaths of artificial flowers +and one or two natural roses--a chance purchase from a shop at the port-- +on the grave of the young journalist. Miss Treherne had brought some +sketching materials, and both of us (for, as has been suggested, I had a +slight gift for drawing) made sketches of the burial-place. Having done +this, we moved away to other parts of the cemetery, looking at the +tombstones, many of which told sad tales enough of those who died far +away from home and friends. As we wandered on, I noticed a woman +kneeling beside a grave. It grew upon me that the figure was familiar. +Presently I saw who it was, for the face lifted. I excused myself, went +over to her, and said:--"Miss Caron, you are in trouble?" + +She looked up, her eyes swimming with tears and pointed to the tombstone. +On it I read: + + Sacred to the Memory of + HECTOR CARON, + Ensign in the French Navy. + + Erected by his friend, Galt Roscoe, + H.B.M.N. + +Beneath this was the simple line: + + "Why, what evil hath he done?" + +"He was your brother?" I asked. + +"Yes, monsieur, my one brother." Her tears dropped slowly. + +"And Galt Roscoe, who was he?" asked I. + +Through her grief her face was eloquent. "I never saw him--never knew +him," she said. "He saved my poor Hector from much suffering; he nursed +him, and buried him here when he died, and then--that!" pointing to the +tombstone. "He made me love the English," she said. "Some day I shall +find him, and I shall have money to pay him back all he spent--all." Now +I guessed the meaning of the scene on board the 'Fulvia', when she had been +so anxious to preserve her present relations with Mrs. Falchion. This +was the secret--a beautiful one. She rose. "They disgraced Hector in +New Caledonia," she said, "because he refused to punish a convict at Ile +Nou who did not deserve it. He determined to go to France to represent +his case. He left me behind, because we were poor. He went to Sydney. +There he came to know this good man,"--her finger gently felt his name +upon the stone,--"who made him a guest upon his ship; and so he came on +towards England. In the Indian Ocean he was taken ill: and this was the +end." + +She mournfully sank again beside the grave, but she was no longer +weeping. + +"What was this officer's vessel?" I said presently. She drew from her +dress a letter. "It is here. Please read it all. He wrote that to me +when Hector died." + +The superscription to the letter was--H.B.M.S. Porcupine. + +I might have told her then that the 'Porcupine' was in the +harbour at Aden, but I felt that things would work out to due ends +without my help--which, indeed, they began to do immediately. As we +stood there in silence, I reading over and over again the line upon the +pedestal, I heard footsteps behind, and, turning, I saw a man approaching +us, who, from his manner, though he was dressed in civilian's clothes, I +guessed to be an officer of the navy. He was of more than middle height, +had black hair, dark blue eyes, straight, strongly-marked brows, and was +clean-shaven. He was a little ascetic-looking, and rather interesting +and uncommon, and yet he was unmistakably a sea-going man. It was a face +that one would turn to look at again and again--a singular personality. +And yet my first glance told me that he was not one who had seen much +happiness. Perhaps that was not unattractive in itself, since people who +are very happy, and show it, are often most selfish too, and repel where +they should attract. He was now standing near the grave, and his eyes +were turned from one to the other of us, at last resting on Justine. + +Presently I saw a look of recognition. He stepped quickly forward. +"Mademoiselle, will you pardon me?" he said very gently, "but you remind +me of one whose grave I came to see." His hand made a slight motion +toward Hector Caron's resting-place. Her eyes were on him with an +inquiring earnestness. "Oh, monsieur, is it possible that you are my +brother's friend and rescuer?" + +"I am Roscoe. He was my good friend," he said to her, and he held out +his hand. She took it, and kissed it impulsively. He flushed, and drew +it back quickly and shyly. + +"Some day I shall be able to repay you for all your goodness," she said. +"I am only grateful now--grateful altogether. And you will tell me all +you knew of him--all that he said and did before he died?" + +"I will gladly tell you all I know," he answered, and he looked at her +compassionately, and yet with a little scrutiny, as though to know more +of her and how she came to be in Aden. He turned to me inquiringly. + +I interpreted his thought by saying: "I am the surgeon of the 'Fulvia'. +I chanced upon Miss Caron here. She is travelling by the 'Fulvia'." + +With a faint voice, Justine here said: "Travelling--with my mistress." + +"As companion to a lady," I preferred to add in explanation, for I wished +not to see her humble herself so. A look of understanding came into +Roscoe's face. Then he said: "I am glad that I shall see more of you; I +am to travel by the 'Fulvia' also to London." + +"Yet I am afraid I shall see very little of you," she quietly replied. + +He was about to say something to her, but she suddenly swayed and would +have fallen, but that he caught her and supported her. The weakness +lasted only for a moment, and then, steadying herself, she said to both +of us: "I hope you will say nothing of this to madame? She is kind, most +kind, but she hates illness--and such things." + +Galt Roscoe looked at me to reply, his face showing clearly that he +thought "madame" an extraordinary woman. I assured Justine that we would +say nothing. Then Roscoe cordially parted from us, saying that he would +look forward to seeing us both on the ship; but before he finally went, +he put on the grave a small bouquet from his buttonhole. Then I excused +myself from Justine, and, going over to Miss Treherne, explained to her +the circumstances, and asked her if she would go and speak to the +afflicted girl. She and Mrs. Callendar had been watching the incident, +and they eagerly listened to me. I think this was the moment that I +first stood really well with Belle Treherne. Her sympathy for the +bereaved girl flooded many barriers between herself and me. + +"Oh," she said quickly, "indeed I will go to her, poor girl! Will you +come also, Mrs. Callendar?" + +But Mrs. Callendar timidly said she would rather Miss Treherne went +without her; and so it was. While Miss Treherne was comforting the +bereaved girl, I talked to Mrs. Callendar. I fear that Mrs. Callendar +was but a shallow woman; for, after a moment of excitable interest in +Justine, she rather naively turned the talk upon the charms of Europe. +And, I fear, not without some slight cynicism, I followed her where she +led; for, as I said to myself, it did not matter what direction our idle +tongues took, so long as I kept my mind upon the two beside that grave: +but it gave my speech a spice of malice. I dwelt upon Mrs. Callendar's +return to her native heath--that is, the pavements of Bond Street and +Piccadilly, although I knew that she was a native of Tasmania. At this +she smiled egregiously. + +At length Miss Treherne came to us and said that Justine insisted she +was well enough to go back to the vessel alone, and wished not to be +accompanied. So we left her there. + +A score of times I have stopped when preparing my notes for this tale +from my diary and those of Mrs. Falchion and Galt Roscoe, to think how, +all through the events recorded here, and many others omitted, Justine +Caron was like those devoted and, often, beautiful attendants of the +heroes and heroines of tragedy, who, when all is over, close the eyes, +compose the bodies, and cover the faces of the dead, pronouncing with +just lips the benediction, fittest in their mouths. Their loves, their +deeds, their lives, however good and worthy, were clothed in modesty and +kept far up the stage, to be, even when everything was over, not always +given the privilege to die as did their masters, but, like Horatio, bade +to live and be still the loyal servant: + + "But in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, + To tell my story." + +There was no reason why we should go to the ship immediately, and I +proposed that we should first explore the port-town, and then visit the +city of Aden--five miles away beyond the hills--and the Tanks. To this +the ladies consented. + +Somauli policemen patrolled the streets; Somauli, Arab, and Turkish +guides impeded the way; Arabs in plain white, Arab sheikhs in blue and +white, and gold, lounged languidly about, or drank their coffee in the +shade of the bazaars. Children of the desert, nearly naked, sprinkled +water before the doors of the bazaars and stores and upon the hot +thoroughfare, from long leather bottles; caravans of camels, with dusty +stride, swung up the hillside and beyond into the desert; the Jewish +water-carrier with his donkey trudged down the pass from the cool +fountains in the volcanic hills; a guard of eunuchs marched by with the +harem of a Mohammedan; in the doorways of the houses goats and donkeys +fed. Jews, with greasy faces, red-hemmed skirt, and hungry look, moved +about, offering ostrich feathers for sale, everywhere treated worse than +the Chinaman in Oregon or at Port Darwin. We saw English and Australian +passengers of the 'Fulvia' pelting the miserable members of a despised race +with green fruit about the streets, and afterwards from the deck of the +ship. A number of these raised their hats to us as they passed; but +Belle Treherne's acknowledgment was chilly. + +"It is hard to be polite to cowards," she said. + +After having made some ruinous bargains in fezes, Turkish cloths and +perfume, I engaged a trap, and we started for Aden. The journey was not +one of beauty, but it had singular interest. Every turn of the wheels +carried us farther and farther away from a familiar world to one of +yesterday. White-robed warriors of the desert, with lances, bent their +brows upon us as they rode away towards the endless sands, and vagabonds +of Egypt begged for alms. In about three-quarters of an hour we had +passed the lofty barriers of Jebel Shamsan and its comrades, and were +making clouds of dust in the streets of Aden. In spite of the +cantonments, the British Government House, and the European Church, it +was an Oriental town pure and simple, where the slow-footed hours +wandered by, leaving apathy in their train; where sloth and surfeit sat +in the market-places; idle women gossiped in their doorways; and naked +children rolled in the sun. Yet how, in the most unfamiliar places, does +one wake suddenly to hear or see some most familiar thing, and learn +again that the ways of all people and nations are not, after all, so far +apart! Here three naked youths, with trays upon their heads, cried aloud +at each doorway what, interpreted, was: "Pies! Hot pies! Pies all hot!" +or, "Crum-pet! Crumpet! Won't you buy-uy a crum-pet!" + +One sees the same thing in Kandy, in Calcutta, in Tokio, in Istamboul, in +Teheran, in Queensland, in London. + +To us the great Tanks overlooking the place were more interesting than +the town itself, and we drove thither. At Government House and here were +the only bits of green that we had seen; they were, in fact, the only +spots of verdure on the peninsula of Aden. It was a very sickly green, +from which wan and dusty fig trees rose. In their scant shadow, or in +the shelter of an overhanging ledge of rock, Arabs offered us draughts +of cool water, and oranges. There were people in the sickly gardens, and +others were inspecting the Tanks. Passengers from the ship had brought +luncheon-baskets to this sad oasis. + +As we stood at the edge of one of the Tanks, Miss Treherne remarked with +astonishment that they were empty. I explained to her that Aden did not +have the benefits conferred even on the land of the seven fat and seven +lean kine--that there had not been rain there for years, and that when it +did come it was neither prolonged nor plentiful. Then came questions as +to how long ago the Tanks were built. + +"Thirteen hundred years!" she exclaimed. "How strange to feel it so! +It is like looking at old graves. And how high the walls are, closing up +the gorge between the hills." + +At that moment Mrs. Callendar drew our attention to Mrs. Falchion and a +party from the ship. Mrs. Falchion was but a few paces from us, smiling +agreeably as she acknowledged our greetings. Presently two of her party +came to us and asked us to share their lunch. I would have objected, and +I am certain Belle Treherne would gladly have done so, but Mrs. Callendar +was anxious to accept, therefore we expressed our gratitude and joined +the group. On second thoughts I was glad that we did so, because, +otherwise, my party must have been without refreshments until they +returned to the ship--the restaurants at Aden are not to be trusted. To +me Mrs. Falchion was pleasantly impersonal, to Miss Treherne delicately +and actively personal. At the time I had a kind of fear of her interest +in the girl, but I know now that it was quite sincere, though it began +with a motive not very lofty--to make Belle Treherne her friend, and so +annoy me, and also to study, as would an anatomist, the girl's life. + +We all moved into the illusive shade of the fig and magnolia trees, and +lunch was soon spread. As we ate, conversation turned upon the annoying +persistency of Eastern guides, and reference was made to the exciting +circumstances attending the engagement of Amshar, the guide of Mrs. +Falchion's party. Among a score of claimants, Amshar had had one +particular opponent--a personal enemy--who would not desist even when +the choice had been made. He, indeed, had been the first to solicit the +party, and was rejected because of his disagreeable looks. He had even +followed the trap from the Port of Aden. As one of the gentlemen was +remarking on the muttered anger of the disappointed Arab, Mrs. Falchion. +said: "There he is now at the gate of the garden." + +His look was sullenly turned upon our party. Blackburn, the Queenslander +said, "Amshar, the other fellow is following up the game," and pointed to +the gate. + +Amshar understood the gesture at least, and though he gave a toss of the +head, I noticed that his hand trembled as he handed me a cup of water, +and that he kept his eyes turned on his opponent. + +"One always feels unsafe with these cut-throat races," said Colonel +Ryder, "as some of us know, who have had to deal with the nigger of South +America. They think no more of killing a man--" + +"Than an Australian squatter does of dispersing a mob of aboriginals or +kangaroos," said Clovelly. + +Here Mrs. Callendar spoke up briskly. "I don't know what you mean by +'dispersing.'" + +"You know what a kangaroo battue is, don't you?" + +"But that is killing, slaughtering kangaroos by the hundred." + +"Well, and that is aboriginal dispersion," said the novelist. "That is +the aristocratic method of legislating the native out of existence." + +Blackburn here vigorously protested. "Yes, it's very like a novelist, on +the hunt for picturesque events, to spend his forensic soul upon 'the +poor native,'--upon the dirty nigger, I choose to call him: the meanest, +cruellest, most cowardly, and murderous--by Jove, what a lot of +adjectives!--of native races. But we fellows, who have lost some of the +best friends we ever had--chums with whom we've shared blanket and +tucker--by the crack of a nulla-nulla in the dark, or a spear from the +scrub, can't find a place for Exeter Hall and its 'poor native' in our +hard hearts. We stand in such a case for justice. It is a new country. +Not once in fifty times would law reach them. Reprisal and dispersion +were the only things possible to men whose friends had been massacred, +and--well, they punished tribes for the acts of individuals." + +Mrs. Falchion here interposed. "That is just what England does. A +British trader is killed. She sweeps a native town out of existence with +Hotchkiss guns--leaves it naked and dead. That is dispersion too; I have +seen it, and I know how far niggers as a race can be trusted, and how +much they deserve sympathy. I agree with Mr. Blackburn." + +Blackburn raised his glass. "Mrs. Falchion," he said, "I need no further +evidence to prove my case. Experience is the best teacher." + +"As I wish to join the chorus to so notable a compliment, will somebody +pass the claret?" said Colonel Ryder, shaking the crumbs of a pate from +his coat-collar. When his glass was filled, he turned towards Mrs. +Falchion, and continued: "I drink to the health of the best teacher." +And every one laughingly responded. This impromptu toast would have been +drunk with more warmth, if we could have foreseen an immediate event. +Not less peculiar were Mrs. Falchion's words to Hungerford the evening +before, recorded in the last sentence of the preceding chapter. + +Cigars were passed, and the men rose and strolled away. We wandered +outside the gardens, passing the rejected guide as we did so. "I don't +like the look in his eye," said Clovelly. + +Colonel Ryder laughed. "You've always got a fine vision for the +dramatic." + +We passed on. I suppose about twenty minutes had gone when, as we were +entering the garden again, we heard loud cries. Hurrying forward towards +the Tanks, we saw a strange sight. + +There, on a narrow wall dividing two great tanks, were three people-- +Mrs. Falchion, Amshar, and the rejected Arab guide. Amshar was crouching +behind Mrs. Falchion, and clinging to her skirts in abject fear. The +Arab threatened with a knife. He could not get at Amshar without +thrusting Mrs. Falchion aside, and, as I said, the wall was narrow. He +was bent like a tiger about to spring. + +Seeing Mrs. Falchion and Amshar apart from the others,--Mrs. Falchion +having insisted on crossing this narrow and precipitous wall,--he had +suddenly rushed after them. As he did so, Miss Treherne saw him, and +cried out. Mrs. Falchion faced round swiftly, and then came this tragic +situation. + +Some one must die. + +Seeing that Mrs. Falchion made no effort to dislodge Amshar from her +skirts, the Arab presently leaped forward. Mrs. Falchion's arms went out +suddenly, and she caught the wrist that held the dagger. Then there was +an instant's struggle. It was Mrs. Falchion's life now, as well as +Amshar's. They swayed. They hung on the edge of the rocky chasm. Then +we lost the gleam of the knife, and the Arab shivered, and toppled over. +Mrs. Falchion would have gone with him, but Amshar caught her about the +waist, and saved her from the fall which would have killed her as +certainly as it killed the Arab lying at the bottom of the tank. She had +managed to turn the knife in the Arab's hand against his own breast, and +then suddenly pressed her body against it; but the impulse of the act +came near carrying her over also. + +Amshar was kneeling at her feet, and kissing her gown gratefully. She +pushed him away with her foot, and, coolly turning aside, began to +arrange her hair. As I approached her, she glanced down at the Arab. +"Horrible! horrible!" she said. I remembered that these were her words +when her husband was lifted from the sea to the 'Fulvia'. + +Not ungently, she refused my hand or any assistance, and came down among +the rest of the party. I could not but feel a strange wonder at the +powerful side of her character just shown--her courage, her cool daring. +In her face now there was a look of annoyance, and possibly disgust, as +well as of triumph--so natural in cases of physical prowess. Everybody +offered congratulations, but she only showed real pleasure, and that +mutely, at those of Miss Treherne. To the rest of us she said: "One had +to save one's self, and Amshar was a coward." + +And so this woman, whose hardness of heart and excessive cruelty +Hungerford and I were keeping from the world, was now made into a +heroine, around whom a halo of romance would settle whenever her name +should be mentioned. Now, men, eligible and ineligible, would increase +their homage. It seemed as if the stars had stopped in their courses to +give her special fortune. + +That morning I had thought her appearance at this luncheon-party was +little less than scandalous, for she knew, if others did not, who Boyd +Madras was. After the occurrence with the Arab, the other event was +certainly much less prominent, and here, after many years, I can see that +the act was less in her than it would have been in others. For, behind +her outward hardness, there was a sort of justice working, an iron thing, +but still not unnatural in her. + +Belle Treherne awakened also to a new perception of her character, and a +kind of awe possessed her, so masculine seemed her courage, yet so +womanly and feminine her manner. Mrs. Callendar was loud in her +exclamations of delight and wonder at Mrs. Falchion's coolness; and the +bookmaker, with his usual impetuosity, offered to take bets at four to +one that we should all be detained to give evidence in the matter. + +Clovelly was silent. He occasionally adjusted his glasses, and looked at +Mrs. Falchion as if he had suddenly come to a full stop in his opinions +regarding her. This, I think, was noticed by her, and enjoyed too, for +she doubtless remembered her conversation with me, in which she had said +that Clovelly thought he understood her perfectly. Colonel Ryder, who +was loyal at all times, said she had the nerve of a woman from Kentucky. +Moreover, he had presence of mind, for he had immediately sent off a +native to inform the authorities of what had occurred; so that before we +had got half-way to the town we were met by policemen running towards us, +followed by a small detachment of Indian soldiers. The officer in +command of the detachment stopped us, and said that the governor would be +glad if we would come to Government House for an hour, while an inquiry +was being held. + +To this we cheerfully consented, of course; and, in a room where punkahs +waved and cool claret-cup awaited us, we were received by the governor, +who was full of admiration of Mrs. Falchion. It was plain, however, that +he was surprised at her present equanimity. Had she no nerves at all? + +"I can only regret exceedingly," said the governor, "that your visit to +Aden has had such a tragical interruption; but since it has occurred, +I am glad to have the privilege of meeting a lady so brave as Mrs. +Falchion."--The bookmaker had introduced us all with a naivete that, +I am sure, amused the governor, as it certainly did his aide-de-camp. +"We should not need to fear the natives if we had soldiers as fearless," +his excellency continued. + +At this point the inquiry began, and, after it was over, the governor +said that there the matter ended so far as we were concerned, and then he +remarked gallantly that the Government of Aden would always remain Mrs. +Falchion's debtor. She replied that it was a debt she would be glad to +preserve unsettled for ever. After this pretty exchange of compliments, +the governor smiled, and offered her his arm to the door, where our 'char +a bans' awaited us. + +So impressed was the bookmaker with the hospitable reception the governor +had given us, that he offered him his cigar-case with its contents, said +he hoped they would meet again, and asked his excellency if he thought of +coming to Australia. The governor declined the cigars graciously, +ignored the hoped-for pleasure of another meeting, and trusted that it +might fall to his lot to visit Australia some day. Thereupon the +bookmaker insisted on the aide-de-camp accepting the cigar-case, and gave +him his visiting-card. The aide-de-camp lost nothing by his good-humoured +acceptance, if he smoked, because, as I knew, the cigars were very good +indeed. Bookmakers, gamblers and Jews are good judges of tobacco. And +the governor's party lost nothing in dignity because, as the traps +wheeled away, they gave a polite little cheer for Mrs. Falchion. I, at +first, was fearful how Belle Treherne would regard the gaucheries of the +bookmaker, but I saw that he was rather an object of interest to her than +otherwise; for he was certainly amusing. + +As we drove through Aden, a Somauli lad ran from the door of a house, and +handed up a letter to the driver of my trap. It bore my name, and was +handed over to me. I recognised the handwriting. It was that of Boyd +Madras. He had come ashore by Hungerford's aid in the night. The letter +simply gave an address in England that would always find him, and stated +that he intended to take another name. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"THE PROGRESS OF THE SUNS" + +News of the event had preceded us to the 'Fulvia', and, as we scrambled out +on the ship's stairs, cheers greeted us. Glancing up, I saw Hungerford, +among others, leaning over the side, and looking at Mrs. Falchion in a +curious cogitating fashion, not unusual to him. The look was non- +committal, yet earnest. If it was not approval, it was not condemnation; +but it might have been slightly ironical, and that annoyed me. It seemed +impossible for him--and it was so always, I believe--to get out of his +mind the thought of the man he had rescued on No Man's Sea. I am sure +it jarred upon him that the band foolishly played a welcome when Mrs. +Falchion stepped on the deck. As I delivered Miss Treherne into the +hands of her father, who was anxiously awaiting us, Hungerford said in my +ear: "A tragedy queen, Marmion." He said it so distinctly that Mrs. +Falchion heard it, and she gave him a searching look. Their eyes met and +warred for a moment, and then he added: "I remember! Yes, I can respect +the bravery of a woman whom I do not like." + +"And this is to-morrow," she said, "and a man may change his mind, and +that may be fate--or a woman's whim." She bowed, turned away, and went +below, evidently disliking the reception she had had, and anxious to +escape inquiries and congratulations. Nor did she appear again until the +'Fulvia' got under way about six o'clock in the evening. As we moved out +of the harbour we passed close to the 'Porcupine' and saw its officers +grouped on the deck, waving adieus to some one on our deck, whom I +guessed, of course, to be Galt Roscoe. + +At this time Mrs. Falchion was standing near me. "For whom is that +demonstration?" she said. + +"For one of her officers, who is a passenger by the 'Fulvia'," I replied. +"You remember we passed the 'Porcupine' in the Indian Ocean?" + +"Yes, I know that very well," she said, with a shade of meaning. "But"-- +here I thought her voice had a touch of breathlessness--"but who is the +officer? I mean, what is his name?" + +"He stands in the group near the door of the captain's cabin, there. His +name is Galt Roscoe, I think." + +A slight exclamation escaped her. There was a chilly smile on her lips, +and her eyes sought the group until it rested on Galt Roscoe. In a +moment she said "You have met him?" + +"In the cemetery this morning, for the first time." + +"Everybody seems to have had business this morning at the cemetery. +Justine Caron spent hours there. To me it is so foolish, heaping up a +mound, and erecting a tombstone over--what?--a dead thing, which, if one +could see it, would be dreadful." + +"You would prefer complete absorption--as of the ocean?" I brutally +retorted. + +She appeared not to notice the innuendo. "Yes, what is gone is gone. +Graves are idolatry. Gravestones are ghostly. It is people without +imagination who need these things, together with crape and black-edged +paper. It is all barbaric ritual. I know you think I am callous, but I +cannot help that. For myself, I wish the earth close about me, and level +green grass above me, and no one knowing of the place; or else, fire or +the sea." + +"Mrs. Falchion," said I, "between us there need be no delicate words. +You appear to have neither imagination, nor idolatry, nor remembrances, +nor common womanly kindness." + +"Indeed!" she said. "Yet you might know me better." Here she touched +my arm with the tips of her fingers, and, in spite of myself, I felt my +pulse beat faster. It seemed to me that in her presence, even now, +I could not quite trust myself. "Indeed!" she repeated. "And who made +you omniscient, Dr. Marmion? You hardly do yourself justice. You hold a +secret. You insist on reminding me of the fact. Is that in perfect +gallantry? Do you know me altogether, from your knowledge of that one +thing? You are vain. Or does the secret wear on you, and--Mr. +Hungerford? Was it necessary to seek HIS help in keeping it?" + +I told her then the true history of Hungerford's connection with Boyd +Madras, and also begged her pardon for showing just now my knowledge of +her secret. At this she said, "I suppose I should be grateful," and was +there a slightly softer cadence to her voice? + +"No, you need not be grateful," I said. "We are silent, first, because +he wished it; then because you are a woman." + +"You define your reasons with astonishing care and taste," she replied. + +"Oh, as to taste!--" said I; but then I bit my tongue. + +At that she said, her lips very firm and pale, "I could not pretend +to a grief I did not feel. I acted no lie. He died as we had lived-- +estranged. I put up no memorials." + +But I, thinking of my mother lying in her grave, a woman after God's own +heart, who loved me more than I deserved, repeated almost unconsciously +these lines (clipped from a magazine): + + "Sacred the ring, the faded glove, + Once worn by one we used to love; + Dead warriors in their armour live, + And in their relics saints survive. + + "Oh, Mother Earth, henceforth defend + All thou hast garnered of my friend, + From winter's wind and driving sleet, + From summer's sun and scorching heat. + + "Within thine all-embracing breast + Is hid one more forsaken nest; + While, in the sky, with folded wings, + The bird that left it sits and sings." + +I paused; the occasion seemed so little suited to the sentiment, for +around us was the idle excitement of leaving port. I was annoyed with +myself for my share in the conversation so far. Mrs. Falchion's eyes had +scarcely left that group around the captain's door, although she had +appeared acutely interested in what I was saying. Now she said: + +"You recite very well. I feel impressed, but I fancy it is more your +voice than those fine sentiments; for, after all, you cannot glorify the +dead body. Look at the mummy of Thothmes at Boulak, and think what +Cleopatra must look like now. And please let us talk about something +else. Let us--" She paused. + +I followed the keen, shaded glance of her eyes, and saw, coming from the +group by the captain's door, Galt Roscoe. He moved in our direction. +Suddenly he paused. His look was fixed upon Mrs. Falchion. A flush +passed over his face, not exactly confusing, but painful, and again it +left him pale, and for a moment he stood motionless. Then he came +forward to us. He bowed to me, then looked hard at her. She held out +her hand. + +"Mr. Roscoe, I think?" she said. "An old friend," she added, turning to +me. He gravely took her extended hand and said: + +"I did not think to see you here, Miss--" + +"MRS. Falchion," she interrupted clearly. + +"MRS. Falchion!" he said, with surprise. "It is so many years since we +had met, and--" + +"And it is so easy to forget things? But it isn't so many, really--only +seven, the cycle for constitutional renewal. Dear me, how erudite that +sounds! . . . So, I suppose, we meet the same, yet not the same." + +"The same, yet not the same," he repeated after her, with an attempt at +lightness, yet abstractedly. + +"I think you gentlemen know each other?" she said. + +"Yes; we met in the cemetery this morning. I was visiting the grave of a +young French officer." + +"I know," she said--"Justine Caron's brother. She has told me; but she +did not tell me your name." + +"She has told you?" he said. + +"Yes. She is--my companion." I saw that she did not use the word that +first came to her. + +"How strangely things occur! And yet," he added musingly, "I suppose, +after all, coincidence is not so strange in these days of much travel, +particularly with people whose lives are connected--more or less." + +"Whose lives are connected--more or less," she repeated after him, in a +steely tone. + +It seemed to me that I had received my cue to leave. I bowed myself +away, and went about my duties. As we steamed bravely through the +Straits of Babelmandeb, with Perim on our left, rising lovely through the +milky haze, I came on deck again, and they were still near where I had +left them an hour before. I passed, glancing at them as I did so. They +did not look towards me. His eyes were turned to the shore, and hers +were fixed on him. I saw an expression on her lips that gave her face +new character. She was speaking, as I thought, clearly and mercilessly. +I could not help hearing her words as I passed them. + +"You are going to be that--you!" There was a ring of irony in her tone. +I heard nothing more in words, but I saw him turn to her somewhat +sharply, and I caught the deep notes of his voice as he answered her. +When, a moment after, I looked back, she had gone below. + +Galt Roscoe had a seat at Captain Ascott's table, and I did not see +anything of him at meal-times, but elsewhere I soon saw him a great deal. +He appeared to seek my company. I was glad of this, for I found that he +was an agreeable man, and had distinct originality of ideas, besides +being possessed of very considerable culture. He also had that social +aplomb so much a characteristic of the naval officer. Yet, man of the +world as he was, he had a strain of asceticism which puzzled me. It did +not make him eccentric, but it was not a thing usual with the naval man. +Again, he wished to be known simply as Mr. Roscoe, not as Captain Roscoe, +which was his rank. He said nothing about having retired, yet I guessed +he had done so. One evening, however, soon after we had left Aden, we +were sitting in my cabin, and the conversation turned upon a recent novel +dealing with the defection of a clergyman of the Church of England +through agnosticism. The keenness with which he threw himself into the +discussion and the knowledge he showed, surprised me. I knew (as most +medical students get to know, until they know better) some scientific +objections to Christianity, and I put them forward. He clearly and +powerfully met them. I said at last, laughingly: "Why, you ought to take +holy orders." + +"That is what I am going to do," he said very seriously, "when I get to +England. I am resigning the navy." At that instant there flashed +through my mind Mrs. Falchion's words: "You are going to be that--you!" + +Then he explained to me that he had been studying for two years, and +expected to go up for deacon's orders soon after his return to England. +I cannot say that I was greatly surprised, for I had known a few, and had +heard of many, men who had exchanged the navy for the Church. It struck +me, however, that Galt Roscoe appeared to view the matter from a stand- +point not professional; the more so, that he expressed his determination +to go to the newest part of a new country, to do the pioneer work of the +Church. I asked him where he was going, and he said to the Rocky +Mountains of Canada. I told him that my destination was Canada also. He +warmly expressed the hope that we should see something of each other +there. This friendship of ours may seem to have been hastily hatched, +but it must be remembered that the sea is a great breeder of friendship. +Two men who have known each other for twenty years find that twenty days +at sea bring them nearer than ever they were before, or else estrange +them. + +It was on this evening that, in a lull of the conversation, I casually +asked him when he had known Mrs. Falchion. His face was inscrutable, but +he said somewhat hurriedly, "In the South Sea Islands," and then changed +the subject. So, there was some mystery again? Was this woman never to +be dissociated from enigma? In those days I never could think of her +save in connection with some fatal incident in which she was scathless, +and some one else suffered. + +It may have been fancy, but I thought that, during the first day or two +after leaving Aden, Galt Roscoe and Mrs. Falchion were very little +together. Then the impression grew that this was his doing, and again +that she waited with confident patience for the time when he would seek +her--because he could not help himself. Often when other men were paying +her devoted court I caught her eyes turned in his direction, and I +thought I read in her smile a consciousness of power. And it so was. +Very soon he was at her side. But I also noticed that he began to look +worn, that his conversation with me lagged. I think that at this time +I was so much occupied with tracing personal appearances to personal +influences that I lost to some degree the physician's practical keenness. +My eyes were to be opened. He appeared to be suffering, and she seemed +to unbend to him more than she ever unbent to me, or any one else on +board. Hungerford, seeing this, said to me one day in his blunt way: +"Marmion, old Ulysses knew what he was about when he tied himself to the +mast." + +But the routine of the ship went on as before. Fortunately, Mrs. +Falchion's heroism at Aden had taken the place of the sensation attending +Boyd Madras's suicide. Those who tired of thinking of both became mildly +interested in Red Sea history. Chief among these was the bookmaker. As +an historian the bookmaker was original. He cavalierly waved aside all +such confusing things as dates: made Moses and Mahomet contemporaneous, +incidentally referred to King Solomon's visits to Cleopatra, and with sad +irreverence spoke of the Exodus and the destruction of Pharaoh's horses +and chariots as "the big handicap." He did not mean to be irreverent or +unhistorical. He merely wished to enlighten Mrs. Callendar, who said he +was very original, and quite clever at history. His really startling +points, however, were his remarks upon the colours of the mountains of +Egypt and the sunset tints to be seen on the Red Sea and the Suez Canal. +To him the grey, and pink, and melancholy gold only brought up visions +of a race at Epsom or Flemington--generally Flemington, where the staring +Australian sun pours down on an emerald course, on a score of horses +straining upon the start, the colours of the jockeys' coats and caps +changing in the struggle like a kaleidoscope, and making strange +harmonies of colour. The comparison between the mountains of Egypt and +a race-course might seem most absurd, if one did not remember that the +bookmaker had his own standards, and that he thought he was paying +unusual honour to the land of the Fellah. Clovelly plaintively said, +as he drank his hock and seltzer, that the bookmaker was hourly saving +his life; and Colonel Ryder admitted at last that Kentucky never produced +anything quite like him. + +The evening before we came to the Suez Canal I was walking with Miss +Treherne and her father. I had seen Galt Roscoe in conversation with +Mrs. Falchion. Presently I saw him rise to go away. A moment after, +in passing, I was near her. She sprang up, caught my arm, and pointed +anxiously. I looked, and saw Galt Roscoe swaying as he walked. + +"He is ill--ill," she said. + +I ran forward and caught him as he was falling. Ill? + +Of course he was ill. What a fool I had been! Five minutes with him +assured me that he had fever. I had set his haggard appearance down to +some mental trouble--and I was going to be a professor in a medical +college! + +Yet I know now that a troubled mind hastened the fever. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +BETWEEN DAY AND DARK + +From the beginning Galt Roscoe's fever was violent. It had been hanging +about him for a long time, and was the result of malarial poisoning. I +devoutly wished that we were in the Mediterranean instead of the Red Sea, +where the heat was so great; but fortunately we should soon be there. +There was no other case of sickness on board, and I could devote plenty +of time to him. Offers of assistance in nursing were numerous, but I +only encouraged those of the bookmaker, strange as this may seem; yet he +was as gentle and considerate as a woman in the sick-room. This was on +the first evening of his attack. After that I had reasons for dispensing +with his generous services. The night after Roscoe was taken ill we were +passing through the canal, the search-light of the 'Fulvia' sweeping the +path ahead of it and glorifying everything it touched. Mud barges were +fairy palaces; Arab punts beautiful gondolas; the ragged Egyptians on the +banks became picturesque; and the desolate country behind them had a wide +vestibule of splendour. I stood for half an hour watching this scene, +then I went below to Roscoe's cabin and relieved the bookmaker. The sick +man was sleeping from the effects of a sedative draught. The bookmaker +had scarcely gone when I heard a step behind me, and I turned and saw +Justine Caron standing timidly at the door, her eyes upon the sleeper. +She spoke quietly. "Is he very ill?" + +I answered that he was, but also that for some days I could not tell how +dangerous his illness might be. She went to the berth where he lay, the +reflected light from without playing weirdly on his face, and smoothed +the pillow gently. + +"If you are willing, I will watch for a time," she said. "Everybody is +on deck. Madame said she would not need me for a couple of hours. I +will send a steward for you if he wakes; you need rest yourself." + +That I needed rest was quite true, for I had been up all the night +before; still I hesitated. She saw my hesitation, and added: + +"It is not much that I can do, still I should like to do it. I can at +least watch." Then, very earnestly: "He watched beside Hector." + +I left her with him, her fingers moving the small bag of ice about his +forehead to allay the fever and her eyes patiently regarding him. I went +on deck again. I met Miss Treherne and her father. They both inquired +for the sick man, and I told Belle--for she seemed much interested--the +nature of such malarial fevers, the acute forms they sometimes take, and +the kind of treatment required. She asked several questions, showing a +keen understanding of my explanations, and then, after a moment's +silence, said meditatively: "I think I like men better when they are +doing responsible work; it is difficult to be idle--and important too." + +I saw very well that, with her, I should have to contend for a long time +against those first few weeks of dalliance on the 'Fulvia'. + +Clovelly joined us, and for the first time--if I had not been so +egotistical it had appeared to me before--I guessed that his somewhat +professional interest in Belle Treherne had developed into a very +personal thing. And with that thought came also the conception of what +a powerful antagonist he would be. For it improves some men to wear +glasses; and Clovelly had a delightful, wheedling tongue. It was +allusive, contradictory (a thing pleasing to women), respectful yet +playful, bold yet reverential. Many a time I have longed for Clovelly's +tongue. Unfortunately for me, I learned some of his methods without his +art; and of this I am occasionally reminded at this day. A man like +Clovelly is dangerous as a rival when he is not in earnest; when he IS in +earnest, it becomes a lonely time for the other man--unless the girl is +perverse. + +I left the two together, and moved about the deck, trying to think +closely about Roscoe's case, and to drive Clovelly's invasion from my +mind. I succeeded, and was only roused by Mrs. Falchion's voice beside +me. + +"Does he suffer much?" she murmured. + +When answered, she asked nervously how he looked--it was impossible that +she should consider misery without shrinking. I told her that he was +only flushed and haggard as yet and that he was little wasted. A thought +flashed to her face. She was about to speak, but paused. After a +moment, however, she remarked evenly: "He is likely to be delirious?" + +"It is probable," I replied. + +Her eyes were fixed on the search-light. The look in them was +inscrutable. She continued quietly: "I will go and see him, if you will +let me. Justine will go with me." + +"Not now," I replied. "He is sleeping. To-morrow, if you will." + +I did not think it necessary to tell her that Justine was at that moment +watching beside him. We walked the deck together in silence. + +"I wonder," she said, "that you care to walk with me. Please do not make +the matter a burden." + +She did not say this with any invitation to courteous protest on my part, +but rather with a cold frankness--for which, I confess, I always admired +her. I said now: "Mrs. Falchion, you have suggested what might easily be +possible in the circumstances, but I candidly admit that I have never yet +found your presence disagreeable; and I suppose that is a comment upon my +weakness. Though, to speak again with absolute truth, I think I do not +like you at this present." + +"Yes, I fancy I can understand that," she said. "I can understand how, +for instance, one might feel a just and great resentment, and have in +one's hand the instrument of punishment, and yet withhold one's hand +and protect where one should injure." + +At this moment these words had no particular significance to me, but +there chanced a time when they came home with great force. I think, +indeed, that she was speaking more to herself than to me. Suddenly she +turned to me. + +"I wonder," she said, "if I am as cruel as you think me--for, indeed, +I do not know. But I have been through many things." + +Here her eyes grew cold and hard. The words that followed seemed in no +sequence. "Yet," she said, "I will go and see him to-morrow. . . . +Good-night." After about an hour I went below to Galt Roscoe's cabin. +I drew aside the curtain quietly. Justine Caron evidently had not heard +me. She was sitting beside the sick man, her fingers still smoothing +away the pillow from his fevered face and her eyes fixed on him. I spoke +to her. She rose. "He has slept well," she said. And she moved to the +door. + +"Miss Caron," I said, "if Mrs. Falchion is willing, you could help me to +nurse Mr. Roscoe?" + +A light sprang to her eyes. "Indeed, yes," she said. + +"I will speak to her about it, if you will let me?" She bowed her head, +and her look was eloquent of thanks. After a word of good-night we +parted. + +I knew that nothing better could occur to my patient than that Justine +Caron should help to nurse him. This would do far more for him than +medicine--the tender care of a woman--than many pharmacopoeias. + +Hungerford had insisted on relieving me for a couple of hours at +midnight. He said it would be a good preparation for going on the bridge +at three o'clock in the morning. About half-past two he came to my cabin +and waked me, saying: "He is worse--delirious; you had better come." + +He was indeed delirious. Hungerford laid his hand on my shoulder. +"Marmion," he said, "that woman is in it. Like the devil, she is +ubiquitous. Mr. Roscoe's past is mixed up with hers somehow. I don't +suppose men talk absolute history in delirium, but there is no reason, +I fancy, why they shouldn't paraphrase. I should reduce the number of +nurses to a minimum if I were you." + +A determined fierceness possessed me at the moment. I said to him: "She +shall nurse him, Hungerford--she, and Justine Caron, and myself." + +"Plus Dick Hungerford," he added. "I don't know quite how you intend to +work this thing, but you have the case in your hands, and what you've +told me about the French girl shows that she is to be trusted. But as +for myself, Marmion M.D., I'm sick--sick--sick of this woman, and all her +words and works. I believe that she has brought bad luck to this ship; +and it's my last voyage on it; and--and I begin to think you're a damned +good fellow--excuse the insolence of it; and--good-night." + +For the rest of the night I listened to Galt Roscoe's wild words. He +tossed from side to side, and murmured brokenly. Taken separately, and +as they were spoken, his words might not be very significant, but pieced +together, arranged, and interpreted through even scant knowledge of +circumstances, they were sufficient to give me a key to difficulties +which, afterwards, were to cause much distress. I arrange some of the +sentences here to show how startling were the fancies--or remembrances +--that vexed him. + +"But I was coming back--I was coming back--I tell you I should have +stayed with her for ever. . . . See how she trembles!--Now her breath +is gone--There is no pulse--Her heart is still--My God, her heart is +still!--Hush! cover her face. . . . Row hard, you devils!--A hundred +dollars if you make the point in time. . . . Whereaway?--Whereaway?-- +Steady now!--Let them have it across the bows!--Low! low!--fire low! . . . +She is dead--she is dead!" + +These things he would say over and over again breathlessly, then he would +rest a while, and the trouble would begin again. "It was not I that did +it--no, it was not I. She did it herself!--She plunged it in, deep, +deep, deep! You made me a devil! . . . Hush! I WILL tell!--I know +you--yet--Mercy--Mercy--Falchion--" + +Yes, it was best that few should enter his cabin. The ravings of a sick +man are not always counted ravings, no more than the words of a well man +are always reckoned sane. At last I got him into a sound sleep, and +by that time I was thoroughly tired out. I called my own steward, and +asked him to watch for a couple of hours while I rested. I threw myself +down and slept soundly for an hour beyond that time, the steward having +hesitated to wake me. + +By that time we had passed into the fresher air of the Mediterranean, and +the sea was delightfully smooth. Galt Roscoe still slept, though his +temperature was high. + +My conference with Mrs. Falchion after breakfast was brief, but +satisfactory. I told her frankly that Roscoe had been delirious, that he +had mentioned her name, and that I thought it best to reduce the number +of nurses and watchers. I made my proposition about Justine Caron. She +shook her head a little impatiently, and said that Justine had told her, +and that she was quite willing. Then I asked her if she would not also +assist. She answered immediately that she wished to do so. As if to +make me understand why she did it, she added: "If I did not hear the +wild things he says, some one else would; and the difference is that +I understand them, and the some one else would interpret them with +the genius of the writer of a fairy book." + +And so it happened that Mrs. Falchion came to sit many hours a day beside +the sick couch of Galt Roscoe, moistening his lips, cooling his brow, +giving him his medicine. After the first day, when she was, I thought, +alternating between innate disgust of misery and her womanliness and +humanity,--in these days more a reality to me,--she grew watchful and +silently solicitous at every turn of the malady. What impressed me most +was that she was interested and engrossed more, it seemed, in the malady +than in the man himself. + +And yet she baffled me even when I had come to this conclusion. + +During most of his delirium she remained almost impassive, as if she had +schooled herself to be calm and strong in nerve; but one afternoon she +did a thing that upset all my opinions of her for a moment. Looking +straight at her with staring, unconscious eyes, he half rose in his bed, +and said in a low, bitter tone: "I hate you. I once loved you--but I +hate you now!" Then he laughed scornfully, and fell back on the pillow. +She had been sitting very quietly, musing. His action had been +unexpected, and had broken upon a silence. She rose to her feet quickly, +gave a sharp indrawn breath, and pressed her hand against her side, as +though a sudden pain had seized her. The next moment, however, she was +composed again, and said in explanation that she had been half asleep, +and he had startled her. But I had seen her under what seemed to me more +trying conditions, and she had not shown any nervousness such as this. + +The passengers, of course, talked. Many "true histories" of Mrs. +Falchion's devotion to the sick man were abroad; but it must be said, +however, that all of them were romantically creditable to her. She had +become a rare product even in the eyes of Miss Treherne, and more +particularly her father, since the matter at the Tanks. Justine Caron +was slyly besieged by the curious, but they went away empty; for Justine, +if very simple and single-minded, was yet too much concerned for both +Galt Roscoe and Mrs. Falchion to give the inquiring the slightest clue. +She knew, indeed, little herself, whatever she may have guessed. As for +Hungerford, he was dumb. He refused to consider the matter. But he +roundly maintained once or twice, without any apparent relevance, that +a woman was like a repeating decimal--you could follow her, but you never +could reach her. He usually added to this: "Minus one, Marmion," meaning +thus to exclude the girl who preferred him to any one else. When I +ventured to suggest that Miss Treherne might also be excepted, he said, +with maddening suggestion: "She lets Mrs. Falchion fool her, doesn't she? +And she isn't quite sure the splendour of a medical professor's position +is superior to that of an author." + +In these moments, although I tried to smile on him, I hated him a little. +I sought to revenge myself on him by telling him to help himself to a +cigar, having first placed the box of Mexicans near him. He invariably +declined them, and said he would take one of the others from the tea-box +--my very best, kept in tea for sake of dryness. If I reversed the +process he reversed his action. His instinct regarding cigars was +supernatural, and I almost believe that he had--like the Black Dwarf's +cat--the "poo'er" of reading character and interpreting events--an uncanny +divination. + +I knew by the time we reached Valetta that Roscoe would get well; but he +recognised none of us until we arrived at Gibraltar. Justine Caron and +myself had been watching beside him. As the bells clanged to "slow down" +on entering the harbour, his eyes opened with a gaze of sanity and +consciousness. He looked at me, then at Justine. + +"I have been ill?" he said. + +Justine's eyes were not entirely to be trusted. She turned her head +away. + +"Yes, you have been very ill," I replied, "but you are better." + +He smiled feebly, adding: "At least, I am grateful that I did not die at +sea." Then he closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them, and said, +looking at Justine: "You have helped to nurse me, have you not?" His +wasted fingers moved over the counterpane towards her. + +"I could do so little," she murmured. + +"You have more than paid your debt to me," he gently replied. "For I +live, you see, and poor Hector died." + +She shook her head gravely, and rejoined: "Ah no, I can never pay the +debt I owe to you and to God--now." He did not understand this, I know. +But I did. "You must not talk any more," I said to him. + +But Justine interposed. "He must be told that the nurse who has done +most for him is Mrs. Falchion." His brows contracted as if he were +trying to remember something. He moved his head wearily. + +"Yes, I think I remember," he said, "about her being with me, but nothing +clearly--nothing clearly. She is very kind." + +Justine here murmured: "Shall I tell her?" + +I was about to say no; but Roscoe nodded, and said quietly, "Yes, yes." + +Then I made no objection, but urged that the meeting should only be for +a moment. I determined not to leave them alone even for that moment. +I did not know what things connected with their past--whatever it was-- +might be brought up, and I knew that entire freedom from excitement was +necessary. I might have spared myself any anxiety on the point. When +she came she was perfectly self-composed, and more as she seemed when I +first knew her, though I will admit that I thought her face more possible +to emotion than in the past. + +It seems strange to write of a few weeks before as the past; but so much +had occurred that the days might easily have been months and the weeks +years. + +She sat down beside him and held out her hand. And as she did so, +I thought of Boyd Madras and of that long last night of his life, and +of her refusal to say to him one comforting word, or to touch his hand +in forgiveness and friendship. And was this man so much better than Boyd +Madras? His wild words in delirium might mean nothing, but if they meant +anything, and she knew of that anything, she was still a heartless, +unnatural woman, as I had once called her. + +Roscoe took her hand and held it briefly. "Dr. Marmion says that you +have helped to nurse me through my illness," he whispered. "I am most +grateful." + +I thought she replied with the slightest constraint in her voice. "One +could not let an old acquaintance die without making an effort to save +him." + +At that instant I grew scornful, and longed to tell him of her husband. +But then a husband was not an acquaintance. I ventured instead: "I am +sorry, but I must cut short all conversation for the present. When he +is a little better, he will be benefited by your brightest gossip, +Mrs. Falchion." + +She rose smiling, but she did not again take his hand, though I thought +he made a motion to that end. But she looked down at him steadily for +a moment. Beneath her look his face flushed, and his eyes grew hot with +light; then they dropped, and the eyelids closed on them. At that she +said, with an incomprehensible airiness: "Good-night. I am going now to +play the music of 'La Grande Duchesse' as a farewell to Gibraltar. They +have a concert on to-night." + +And she was gone. + +At the mention of La Grande Duchesse he sighed, and turned his head away +from her. What it all meant I did not know, and she had annoyed me as +much as she had perplexed me; her moods were like the chameleon's +colours. He lay silent for a long time, then he turned to me and said: +"Do you remember that tale in the Bible about David and the well of +Bethlehem?" I had to confess my ignorance. + +"I think I can remember it," he continued. And though I urged him not to +tax himself, he spoke slowly thus: + + "And David was in an hold, and the garrison of the Philistines was + then in Bethlehem. + + "And David longed, and said, Oh that one would give me to drink of + the water of the well of Bethlehem that is at the gate! + + "And the three brake through the host of the Philistines, and drew + water out of the well of Bethlehem that was by the gate, and took + and brought it to David; nevertheless, he would not drink thereof, + but poured it out unto the Lord. + + "And he said, My God forbid it me that I should do this; is not this + the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives? + Therefore he would not drink it." + +He paused a moment, and then added: "One always buys back the past at a +tremendous price. Resurrections give ghosts only." + +"But you must sleep now," I urged. And then, because I knew not what +else more fitting, I added: "Sleep, and + + "'Let the dead past bury its dead.'" + +"Yes, I will sleep," he answered. + + + + + + +MRS. FALCHION + +By Gilbert Parker + + +BOOK II. + +THE SLOPE OF THE PACIFIC + + +CHAPTER XI + +AMONG THE HILLS OF GOD + +"Your letters, sir," said my servant, on the last evening of the college +year. Examinations were over at last, and I was wondering where I should +spend my holidays. The choice was very wide; ranging from the Muskoka +lakes to the Yosemite Valley. Because it was my first year in Canada, I +really preferred not to go beyond the Dominion. With these thoughts in +my mind I opened my letters. The first two did not interest me; +tradesmen's bills seldom do. The third brought a thumping sensation of +pleasure--though it was not from Miss Treherne. I had had one from her +that morning, and this was a pleasure which never came twice in one day, +for Prince's College, Toronto, was a long week's journey from London, +S.W. Considering, however, that I did receive letters from her once a +week, it may be concluded that Clovelly did not; and that, if he had, it +would have been by a serious infringement of my rights. But, indeed, as +I have learned since, Clovelly took his defeat in a very characteristic +fashion, and said on an important occasion some generous things about me. + +The letter that pleased me so much was from Galt Roscoe, who, as he had +intended, was settled in a new but thriving district of British Columbia, +near the Cascade Mountains. Soon after his complete recovery he had been +ordained in England, had straightway sailed for Canada, and had gone to +work at once. This note was an invitation to spend the holiday months +with him, where, as he said, a man "summering high among the hills of +God" could see visions and dream dreams, and hunt and fish too-- +especially fish. He urged that he would not talk parish concerns at me; +that I should not be asked to be godfather to any young mountaineers; and +that the only drawback, so far as my own predilections were concerned, +was the monotonous health of the people. He described his summer cottage +of red pine as being built on the edge of a lovely ravine; he said that +he had the Cascades on one hand with their big glacier fields, and mighty +pine forests on the other; while the balmiest breezes of June awaited +"the professor of pathology and genial saw-bones." At the end of the +letter he hinted something about a pleasant little secret for my ear when +I came; and remarked immediately afterwards that there were one or two +delightful families at Sunburst and Viking, villages in his parish. One +naturally associated the little secret with some member of one of these +delightful families. Finally, he said he would like to show me how it +was possible to transform a naval man into a parson. + +My mind was made up. I wrote to him that I would start at once. Then +I began to make preparations, and meanwhile fell to thinking again about +him who was now the Reverend Galt Roscoe. After the 'Fulvia' reached +London I had only seen him a few times, he having gone at once into the +country to prepare for ordination. Mrs. Falchion and Justine Caron I had +met several times, but Mrs. Falchion forbore inquiring for Galt Roscoe: +from which, and from other slight but significant matters, I gathered +that she knew of his doings and whereabouts. Before I started for +Toronto she said that she might see me there some day, for she was going +to San Francisco to inspect the property her uncle had left her, and in +all probability would make a sojourn in Canada. I gave her my address, +and she then said she understood that Mr. Roscoe intended taking a +missionary parish in the wilds. In his occasional letters to me while we +all were in England Roscoe seldom spoke of her, but, when he did, showed +that he knew of her movements. This did not strike me at the time as +anything more than natural. It did later. + +Within a couple of weeks I reached Viking, a lumbering town with great +saw-mills, by way of San Francisco and Vancouver. Roscoe met me at the +coach, and I was taken at once to the house among the hills. It stood on +the edge of a ravine, and the end of the verandah looked over a verdant +precipice, beautiful but terrible too. It was uniquely situated; a nest +among the hills, suitable either for work or play. In one's ears was the +low, continuous din of the rapids, with the music of a neighbouring +waterfall. + +On the way up the hills I had a chance to observe Roscoe closely. +His face had not that sturdy buoyancy which his letter suggested. Still, +if it was pale, it had a glow which it did not possess before, and even a +stronger humanity than of old. A new look had come into his eyes, +a certain absorbing earnestness, refining the past asceticism. +A more amiable and unselfish comrade man never had. + +The second day I was there he took me to call upon a family at Viking, +the town with a great saw-mill and two smaller ones, owned by James +Devlin, an enterprising man who had grown rich at lumbering, and who +lived here in the mountains many months in each year. + +Mr. James Devlin had a daughter who had had some advantages in the East +after her father had become rich, though her earlier life was spent +altogether in the mountains. I soon saw where Roscoe's secret was to +be found. Ruth Devlin was a tall girl of sensitive features, beautiful +eyes, and rare personality. Her life, as I came to know, had been one of +great devotion and self-denial. Before her father had made his fortune, +she had nursed a frail-bodied, faint-hearted mother, and had cared for, +and been a mother to, her younger sisters. With wealth and ease came a +brighter bloom to her cheek, but it had a touch of care which would never +quite disappear, though it became in time a beautiful wistfulness rather +than anxiety. Had this responsibility come to her in a city, it might +have spoiled her beauty and robbed her of her youth altogether; but in +the sustaining virtue of a life in the mountains, warm hues remained on +her cheek and a wonderful freshness in her nature. Her family worshipped +her--as she deserved. + +That evening Roscoe confided to me that he had not asked Ruth Devlin to +be his wife, nor had he, indeed, given her definite tokens of his love. +But the thing was in his mind as a happy possibility of the future. We +talked till midnight, sitting at the end of the verandah overlooking the +ravine. This corner, called the coping, became consecrated to our many +conversations. We painted and sketched there in the morning (when we +were not fishing or he was not at his duties), received visitors, and +smoked in the evening, inhaling the balsam from the pines. An old man +and his wife kept the house for us, and gave us to eat of simple but +comfortable fare. The trout-fishing was good, and many a fine trout was +broiled for our evening meal; and many a fine string of trout found its +way to the tables of Roscoe's poorest parishioners, or else to furnish +the more fashionable table at which Ruth Devlin presided. There were +excursions up the valley, and picnics on the hill-sides, and occasional +lunches and evening parties at the summer hotel, a mile from us farther +down the valley, at which tourists were beginning to assemble. + +Yet, all the time, Roscoe was abundantly faithful to his duties at Viking +and in the settlement called Sunburst, which was devoted to salmon- +fishing. Between Viking and Sunburst there was a great jealousy and +rivalry; for the salmon-fishers thought that the mills, though on a +tributary stream, interfered, by the sawdust spilled in the river, with +the travel and spawning of the salmon. It needed all the tact of both +Mr. Devlin and Roscoe to keep the places from open fighting. As it was, +the fire smouldered. When Sunday came, however, there seemed to be truce +between the villages. It appeared to me that one touched the primitive +and idyllic side of life: lively, sturdy, and simple, with nature about +us at once benignant and austere. It is impossible to tell how fresh, +bracing, and inspiring was the climate of this new land. It seemed to +glorify humanity, to make all who breathed it stalwart, and almost +pardonable even in wrong-doing. Roscoe was always received respectfully, +and even cordially, among the salmon-fishers of Sunburst, as among the +mill-men and river-drivers of Viking: not the less so, because he had an +excellent faculty for machinery, and could talk to the people in their +own colloquialisms. He had, besides, though there was little exuberance +in his nature, a gift of dry humour, which did more than anything else, +perhaps, to make his presence among them unrestrained. + +His little churches at Viking and Sunburst were always well attended-- +often filled to overflowing--and the people gave liberally to the +offertory: and I never knew any clergyman, however holy, who did not view +such a proceeding with a degree of complacency. In the pulpit Roscoe was +almost powerful. His knowledge of the world, his habits of directness, +his eager but not hurried speech, his unconventional but original +statements of things, his occasional literary felicity and unusual tact, +might have made him distinguished in a more cultured community. Yet +there was something to modify all this: an occasional indefinable +sadness, a constant note of pathetic warning. It struck me that I never +had met a man whose words and manner were at times so charged with +pathos; it was artistic in its searching simplicity. There was some +unfathomable fount in his nature which was even beyond any occurrence of +his past; some radical, constitutional sorrow, coupled with a very +strong, practical, and even vigorous nature. + +One of his most ardent admirers was a gambler, horse-trader, and watch- +dealer, who sold him a horse, and afterwards came and offered him thirty +dollars, saying that the horse was worth that much less than Roscoe had +paid for it, and protesting that he never could resist the opportunity of +getting the best of a game. He said he did not doubt but that he would +do the same with one of the archangels. He afterwards sold Roscoe a +watch at cost, but confessed to me that the works of the watch had been +smuggled. He said he was so fond of the parson that he felt he had to +give him a chance of good things. It was not uncommon for him to +discourse of Roscoe's quality in the bar-rooms of Sunburst and Viking, +in which he was ably seconded by Phil Boldrick, an eccentric, warm- +hearted fellow, who was so occupied in the affairs of the villages +generally, and so much an advisory board to the authorities, that he +had little time left to progress industrially himself. + +Once when a noted bully came to Viking, and, out of sheer bravado and +meanness, insulted Roscoe in the streets, two or three river-drivers came +forward to avenge the insult. It was quite needless, for the clergyman +had promptly taken the case in his own hands. Waving them back, he said +to the bully: "I have no weapon, and if I had, I could not take your +life, nor try to take it; and you know that very well. But I propose to +meet your insolence--the first shown me in this town." + +Here murmurs of approbation went round. + +"You will, of course, take the revolver from your pocket, and throw it on +the ground." + +A couple of other revolvers were looking the bully in the face, and he +sullenly did as he was asked. + +"You have a knife: throw that down." + +This also was done under the most earnest emphasis of the revolvers. +Roscoe calmly took off his coat. "I have met such scoundrels as you on +the quarter-deck," he said, "and I know what stuff is in you. They call +you beachcombers in the South Seas. You never fight fair. You bully +women, knife natives, and never meet any one in fair fight. You have +mistaken your man this time." + +He walked close up to the bully, his face like steel, his thumbs caught +lightly in his waistcoat pockets; but it was noticeable that his hands +were shut. + +"Now," he said, "we are even as to opportunity. Repeat, if you please, +what you said a moment ago." + +The bully's eye quailed, and he answered nothing. "Then, as I said, you +are a coward and a cur, who insults peaceable men and weak women. If I +know Viking right, it has no room for you." Then he picked up his coat, +and put it on. + +"Now," he added, "I think you had better go; but I leave that to the +citizens of Viking." + +What they thought is easily explained. Phil Boldrick, speaking for all, +said: "Yes, you had better go--quick; but on the hop like a cur, mind +you: on your hands and knees, jumping all the way." + +And, with weapons menacing him, this visitor to Viking departed, +swallowing as he went the red dust disturbed by his hands and feet. + +This established Roscoe's position finally. Yet, with all his popularity +and the solid success of his work, he showed no vanity or egotism, nor +ever traded on the position he held in Viking and Sunburst. He seemed to +have no ambition further than to do good work; no desire to be known +beyond his own district; no fancy, indeed, for the communications of his +labours to mission papers and benevolent ladies in England--so much the +habit of his order. He was free from professional mannerisms. + +One evening we were sitting in the accustomed spot--that is, the coping. +We had been silent for a long time. At last Roscoe rose, and walked up +and down the verandah nervously. + +"Marmion," said he, "I am disturbed to-day, I cannot tell you how: +a sense of impending evil, an anxiety." + +I looked up at him inquiringly, and, of purpose, a little sceptically. + +He smiled something sadly and continued: "Oh, I know you think it +foolishness. But remember that all sailors are more or less +superstitious: it is bred in them; it is constitutional, and +I am afraid there's a good deal of the sailor in me yet." + +Remembering Hungerford, I said: "I know that sailors are superstitious, +the most seasoned of them are that. But it means nothing. I may think +or feel that there is going to be a plague, but I should not enlarge the +insurance on my life because of it." + +He put his hand on my shoulder and looked down at me earnestly. "But, +Marmion, these things, I assure you, are not matters of will, nor yet +morbidness. They occur at the most unexpected times. I have had such +sensations before, and they were followed by strange matters." + +I nodded, but said nothing. I was still thinking of Hungerford. After a +slight pause he continued somewhat hesitatingly: + +"I dreamed last night, three times, of events that occurred in my past; +events which I hoped would never disturb me in the life I am now +leading." + +"A life of self-denial," ventured I. I waited a minute, and then added: +"Roscoe, I think it only fair to tell you--I don't know why I haven't +done so before--that when you were ill you were delirious, and talked of +things that may or may not have had to do with your past." + +He started, and looked at me earnestly. "They were unpleasant things?" + +"Trying things; though all was vague and disconnected," I replied. + +"I am glad you tell me this," he remarked quietly. "And Mrs. Falchion and +Justine Caron--did they hear?" He looked off to the hills. + +"To a certain extent, I am sure. Mrs. Falchion's name was generally +connected with--your fancies.... But really no one could place any +weight on what a man said in delirium, and I only mention the fact +to let you see exactly on what ground I stand with you." + +"Can you give me an idea--of the thing I raved about?" + +"Chiefly about a girl called Alo, not your wife, I should judge--who was +killed." + +At that he spoke in a cheerless voice: "Marmion, I will tell you all the +story some day; but not now. I hoped that I had been able to bury it, +even in memory, but I was wrong. Some things--such things--never die. +They stay; and in our cheerfulest, most peaceful moments confront us, +and mock the new life we are leading. There is no refuge from memory and +remorse in this world. The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with +or without repentance." He turned again from me and set a sombre face +towards the ravine. "Roscoe," I said, taking his arm, "I cannot believe +that you have any sin on your conscience so dark that it is not wiped out +now." + +"God bless you for your confidence. But there is one woman who, I fear, +could, if she would, disgrace me before the world. You understand," he +added, "that there are things we repent of which cannot be repaired. One +thinks a sin is dead, and starts upon a new life, locking up the past, +not deceitfully, but believing that the book is closed, and that no good +can come of publishing it; when suddenly it all flames out like the +letters in Faust's book of conjurations." + +"Wait," I said. "You need not tell me more, you must not--now; not until +there is any danger. Keep your secret. If the woman--if THAT woman-- +ever places you in danger, then tell me all. But keep it to yourself +now. And don't fret because you have had dreams." + +"Well, as you wish," he replied after a long time. As he sat in silence, +I smoking hard, and he buried in thought, I heard the laughter of people +some distance below us in the hills. I guessed it to be some tourists +from the summer hotel. The voices came nearer. + +A singular thought occurred to me. I looked at Roscoe. I saw that he +was brooding, and was not noticing the voices, which presently died away. +This was a relief to me. We were then silent again. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME + +Next day we had a picnic on the Whi-Whi River, which, rising in the far +north, comes in varied moods to join the Long Cloud River at Viking. + + [Dr. Marmion, in a note of his MSS., says that he has purposely + changed the names of the rivers and towns mentioned in the second + part of the book, because he does not wish the locale to be too + definite.] + +Ruth Devlin, her young sister, and her aunt Mrs. Revel, with Galt Roscoe +and myself, constituted the party. The first part of the excursion had +many delights. The morning was fresh and sweet, and we were all in +excellent spirits. Roscoe's depression had vanished; but there was an +amiable seriousness in his manner which, to me, portended that the faint +roses in Ruth Devlin's cheeks would deepen before the day was done, +unless something inopportune happened. + +As we trudged gaily up the canon to the spot where we were to take a big +skiff, and cross the Whi-Whi to our camping-ground, Ruth Devlin, who was +walking with me, said: "A large party of tourists arrived at Viking +yesterday, and have gone to the summer hotel; so I expect you will be gay +up here for some time to come. Prepare, then, to rejoice." + +"Don't you think it is gay enough as it is?" I answered. "Behold this +festive throng." + +"Oh, it is nothing to what there might be. This could never make Viking +and 'surrounding country' notorious as a pleasure resort. To attract +tourists you must have enough people to make romances and tragedies,-- +without loss of life, of course,--merely catastrophes of broken hearts, +and hair-breadth escapes, and mammoth fishing and shooting achievements, +such as men know how to invent,"--it was delightful to hear her voice +soften to an amusing suggestiveness, "and broken bridges and land-slides, +with many other things which you can supply, Dr. Marmion. No, I am +afraid that Viking is too humdrum to be notable." + +She laughed then very lightly and quaintly. She had a sense of humour. + +"Well, but, Miss Devlin," said I, "you cannot have all things at once. +Climaxes like these take time. We have a few joyful things. We have +splendid fishing achievements,--please do not forget that basket of trout +I sent you the other morning,--and broken hearts and such tragedies are +not impossible; as, for instance, if I do not send you as good a basket +of trout to-morrow evening; or if you should remark that there was +nothing in a basket of trout to--" + +"Now," she said, "you are becoming involved and--inconsiderate. +Remember, I am only a mountain girl." + +"Then let us only talk of the other tragedies. But are you not a little +callous to speak of such things as if you thirsted for their occurrence?" + +"I am afraid you are rather silly," she replied. "You see, some of the +land up here belongs to me. I am anxious that it should 'boom'--that is +the correct term, is it not?--and a sensation is good for 'booming.' +What an advertisement would ensue if the lovely daughter of an American +millionaire should be in danger of drowning in the Long Cloud, and a +rough but honest fellow--a foreman on the river, maybe a young member of +the English aristocracy in disguise--perilled his life for her! The +place of peril would, of course, be named Lover's Eddy, or the Maiden's +Gate--very much prettier, I assure you, than such cold-blooded things as +the Devil's Slide, where we are going now, and much more attractive to +tourists." + +"Miss Devlin," laughed I, "you have all the eagerness of the incipient +millionaire. May I hope to see you in Lombard Street some day, a very +Katherine among capitalists?--for, from your remarks, I judge that you +would--I say it pensively--'wade through slaughter to a throne.'" + +Galt Roscoe, who was just ahead with Mrs. Revel and Amy Devlin, turned +and said: "Who is that quoting so dramatically? Now, this is a picnic +party, and any one who introduces elegies, epics, sonnets, 'and such,' +is guilty of breaking the peace at Viking and its environs. Besides, +such things should always be left to the parson. He must not be +outflanked, his thunder must not be stolen. The scientist has unlimited +resources; all he has to do is to be vague, and look prodigious; but the +parson must have his poetry as a monopoly, or he is lost to sight, and +memory." + +"Then," said I, "I shall leave you to deal with Miss Devlin yourself, +because she is the direct cause of my wrong-doing. She has expressed the +most sinister sentiments about Viking and your very extensive parish. +Miss Devlin," I added, turning to her, "I leave you to your fate, and I +cannot recommend you to mercy, for what Heaven made fair should remain +tender and merciful, and--" + +"'So young and so untender!'" she interjected, with a rippling laugh. +"Yet Cordelia was misjudged very wickedly, and traduced very ungallantly, +and so am I. And I bid you good-day, sir." + +Her delicate laugh rings in my ears as I write. I think that sun and +clear skies and hills go far to make us cheerful and harmonious. +Somehow, I always remember her as she was that morning. + +She was standing then on the brink of a new and beautiful experience, at +the threshold of an acknowledged love. And that is a remarkable time to +the young. + +There was something thrilling about the experiences of that morning, +and I think we all felt it. Even the great frowning precipices seemed +to have lost their ordinary gloom, and when some young white eagles rose +from a crag and flew away, growing smaller as they passed, until they +were one with the snow of the glacier on Mount Trinity, or a wapiti +peeped out from the underwood and stole away with glancing feet down the +valley; we could scarcely refrain from doing some foolish thing out of +sheer delight. At length we emerged from a thicket of Douglas pine upon +the shore of the Whi-Whi, and, loosening our boat, were soon moving +slowly on the cool current. For an hour or more we rowed down the river +towards the Long Cloud, and then drew into the shade of a little island +for lunch. When we came to the rendezvous, where picnic parties +generally feasted, we found a fire still smoking and the remnants of a +lunch scattered about. A party of picnickers had evidently been there +just before us. Ruth suggested that it might be some of the tourists +from the hotel. This seemed very probable. + +There were scraps of newspaper on the ground, and among them was an empty +envelope. Mechanically I picked it up, and read the superscription. +What I saw there I did not think necessary to disclose to the other +members of the party; but, as unconcernedly as possible, for Ruth +Devlin's eyes were on me, I used it to light a cigar--inappropriately, +for lunch would soon be ready. + +"What was the name on the envelope?" she said. "Was there one?" + +I guessed she had seen my slight start. I said evasively: "I fancy there +was, but a man who is immensely interested in a new brand of cigar--" + +"You are a most deceitful man," she said. "And, at the least, you are +selfish in holding your cigar more important than a woman's curiosity. +Who can tell what romance was in the address on that envelope--" + +"What elements of noble tragedy, what advertisement for a certain +property in the Whi-Whi Valley," interrupted Roscoe, breaking off the +thread of a sailor's song he was humming, as he tended the water-kettle +on the fire. + +This said, he went on with the song again. I was struck by the wonderful +change in him now. Presentiments were far from him, yet I, having read +that envelope, knew that they were not without cause. Indeed, I had an +inkling of that the night before, when I heard the voices on the hill. +Ruth Devlin stopped for a moment in the preparations to ask Roscoe what +he was humming. I, answering for him, told her that it was an old +sentimental sea-song of common sailors, often sung by officers at +their jovial gatherings. At this she pretended to look shocked, and +straightway demanded to hear the words, so that she could pronounce +judgment on her spiritual pastor and master. + +He good-naturedly said that many of these old sailor songs were amusing, +and that he often found himself humming them. To this I could testify, +and he sang them very well indeed--quietly, but with the rolling tone of +the sailor, jovial yet fascinating. At our united request, his humming +became distinct. Three of the verses I give here: + + "The 'Lovely Jane' went sailing down + To anchor at the Spicy Isles; + And the wind was fair as ever was blown, + For the matter of a thousand miles. + + "Then a storm arose as she crossed the line, + Which it caused her masts to crack; + And she gulped her fill of the whooping brine, + And she likewise sprained her back. + + "And the capting cried, 'If it's Davy Jones, + Then it's Davy Jones,' says he, + 'Though I don't aspire to leave my bones + In the equatorial sea.'" + +What the further history of the 'Lovely Jane' was we were not informed, +for Ruth Devlin announced that the song must wait, though it appeared to +be innocuous and child-like in its sentiments, and that lunch would be +served between the acts of the touching tragedy. When lunch was over, +and we had again set forth upon the Whi-Whi, I asked Ruth to sing an old +French-Canadian song which she had once before sung to us. Many a time +the woods of the West had resounded to the notes of 'En Roulant ma +Boule', as the 'voyageurs' traversed the long paths of the Ottawa, St. +Lawrence, and Mississippi; brave light-hearted fellows, whose singing +days were over. + +By the light of coming events there was something weird and pathetic in +this Arcadian air, sung as it was by her. Her voice was a mezzo-soprano +of rare bracing quality, and she had enough natural sensibility to give +the antique refinement of the words a wistful charm, particularly +apparent in these verses: + + "Ah, cruel Prince, my heart you break, + In killing thus my snow-white drake. + + "My snow-white drake, my love, my King, + The crimson life-blood stains his wing. + + "His golden bill sinks on his breast, + His plumes go floating east and west-- + + "En roulant ma boule: + Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant, + En roulant ma boule roulant, + En roulant ma boule!" + +As she finished the song we rounded an angle in the Whi-Whi. Ahead of +us lay the Snow Rapids and the swift channel at one side of the rapids +which, hurrying through a rocky archway, was known as the Devil's Slide. +There was one channel through the rapids by which it was perfectly safe +to pass, but that sweep of water through the Devil's Slide was sometimes +a trap of death to even the most expert river-men. A half-mile below the +rapids was the confluence of the two rivers. The sight of the tumbling +mass of white water, and the gloomy and colossal grandeur of the Devil's +Slide, a buttress of the hills, was very fine. + +But there was more than scenery to interest us here, for, moving quickly +towards the Slide, was a boat with three people in it. They were +evidently intending to attempt that treacherous passage, which culminated +in a series of eddies, a menace to even the best oarsman ship. They +certainly were not aware of their danger, for there came over the water +the sound of a man's laughing voice, and the two women in the boat were +in unconcerned attitudes. Roscoe shouted to them, and motioned them +back, but they did not appear to understand. + +The man waved his hat to us, and rowed on. There was but one thing for +us to do: to make the passage quickly through the safe channel of the +rapids, and to be of what service we could on the other side of the +Slide, if necessary. We bent to the oars, and the boat shot through the +water. Ruth held the rudder firmly, and her young sister and Mrs. Revel +sat perfectly still. But the man in the other boat, thinking, doubtless, +that we were attempting a race, added his efforts to the current of the +channel. I am afraid that I said some words below my breath scarcely +proper to be spoken in the presence of maidens and a clerk in holy +orders. Roscoe was here, however, a hundred times more sailor than +parson. He spoke in low, firm tones, as he now and then suggested a +direction to Ruth Devlin or myself. Our boat tossed and plunged in the +rapids, and the water washed over us lightly once or twice, but we went +through the passage safely, and had turned towards the Slide before the +other boat got to the rocky archway. + +We rowed hard. The next minute was one of suspense, for we saw the boat +shoot beneath the archway. Presently it emerged, a whirling plaything in +treacherous eddies. The man wildly waved his arm, and shouted to us. +The women were grasping the sides of the boat, but making no outcry. We +could not see the faces of the women plainly yet. The boat ran forward +like a race-horse; it plunged hither and thither. An oar snapped in the +rocks, and the other one shot from the man's hand. Now the boat swung +round and round, and dipped towards the hollow of a whirlpool. When we +were within a few rods of them, it appeared to rise from the water, was +hurled on a rock, and overturned. Mrs. Revel buried her face in her +hands, and Ruth gave a little groan, but she held the rudder firmly, as +we swiftly approached the forms struggling in the water. All, +fortunately, had grasped the swamped boat, and were being carried down +the stream towards us. The man was caring resolutely for himself, but +one, of the women had her arm round the other, supporting her. We +brought our skiff close to the swirling current. I called out words of +encouragement, and was preparing to jump into the water, when Roscoe +exclaimed in a husky voice: "Marmion, it is Mrs. Falchion." + +Yes, it was Mrs. Falchion; but I had known that before. We heard her +words to her companion: "Justine, do not look so. Your face is like +death. It is hateful." + +Then the craft veered towards the smoother water where we were. This was +my opportunity. Roscoe threw me a rope, and I plunged in and swam +towards the boat. I saw that Mrs. Falchion recognised me; but she made +no exclamation, nor did Justine Caron. Their companion, however, on the +other side of the boat, was eloquent in prayers to be rescued. I caught +the bow of the boat as it raced past me, and with all my strength swung +it towards the smoother water. I ran the rope I had brought, through the +iron ring at the bow, and was glad enough of that; for their lives +perhaps depended on being able to do it. It had been a nice calculation +of chances, but it was done. Roscoe immediately bent to the oars, I +threw an arm around Justine, and in a moment Roscoe had towed us into +safer quarters. Then he drew in the rope. As he did so, Mrs. Falchion +said: "Justine would drown so easily if one would let her." + +These were her first words to me. I am sure I never can sufficiently +admire the mere courage of the woman and her presence of mind in danger. +Immediately afterwards she said--and subsequently it seemed to me +marvellous: "You are something more than the chorus to the play this +time, Dr. Marmion." + +A minute after, and Justine was dragged into our boat, and was followed +by Mrs. Falchion, whose first words to Roscoe were: "It is not such a +meeting as one would plan." + +And he replied: "I am glad no harm has come to you." + +The man was duly helped in. A poor creature he was, to pass from this +tale as he entered it, ignominiously and finally here. I even hide his +nationality, for his race are generally more gallant. But he was +wealthy, had an intense admiration for Mrs. Falchion, and had managed to +secure her in his boat, to separate from the rest of the picnic party-- +chiefly through his inefficient rowing. + +Dripping with water as Mrs. Falchion was, she did not, strange to say, +appear at serious disadvantage. Almost any other woman would have done +so. She was a little pale, she must have felt miserable, but she +accepted Ruth Devlin's good offices--as did Justine Caron those of Mrs. +Revel--with much self-possession, scanning her face and form critically +the while, and occasionally turning a glance on Roscoe, who was now cold +and impassive. I never knew a man who could so banish expression from +his countenance when necessary. Speaking to Belle Treherne long +afterwards of Mrs. Falchion's self-possessed manner on this occasion, +and of how she rose superior to the situation, I was told that I must +have regarded the thing poetically and dramatically, for no woman could +possibly look self-possessed in draggled skirts. She said that I always +magnified certain of Mrs. Falchion's qualities. + +That may be so, and yet it must be remembered that I was not predisposed +towards her, and that I wished her well away from where Roscoe was. + +As for Justine Caron, she lay with her head on Mrs. Revel's lap, and +looked from beneath heavy eyelids at Roscoe with such gratitude and--but, +no, she is only a subordinate in the story, and not a chief factor, and +what she said or did here is of no vital consequence at this moment! We +rowed to a point near the confluence of the two rivers, where we could +leave our boats to be poled back through the rapids or portaged past +them. + +On the way Mrs. Falchion said to Roscoe: "I knew you were somewhere in +the Rockies; and at Vancouver, when I came from San Francisco, I heard +of your being here. I had intended spending a month somewhere in the +mountains, so I came to Viking, and on to the summer hotel: but really +this is too exciting for recreation." + +This was spoken with almost gay outward manner, but there was a note in +her words which I did not like, nor did I think that her eye was very +kind, especially when she looked at Ruth Devlin and afterwards at Roscoe. + +We had several miles to go, and it was nightfall--for which Mrs. Falchion +expressed herself as profoundly grateful--when we arrived at the hotel. +Our parting words were as brief as, of necessity, they had been on our +journey through the mountains, for the ladies had ridden the horses which +we had sent over for ourselves from Viking, and we men walked in front. +Besides, the thoughts of some of us were not at all free from misgiving. +The spirit possessing Roscoe the night before seemed to enter into all +of us, even into Mrs. Falchion, who had lost, somewhat, the aplomb with +which she had held the situation in the boat. But at the door of the +hotel she said cheerfully: "Of course, Dr. Marmion will find it necessary +to call on his patients to-morrow--and the clergyman also on his new +parishoners." + +The reply was left to me. I said gravely: "Let us be thankful that both +doctor and clergyman are called upon to use their functions; it might +easily have been only the latter." + +"Oh, do not be funereal!" she replied. "I knew that we were not to +drown at the Devil's Slide. The drama is not ended yet, and the chief +actors cannot go until 'the curtain.'--Though I am afraid that is not +quite orthodox, is it, Mr. Roscoe?" + +Roscoe looked at her gravely. "It may not be orthodox as it is said, but +it is orthodox, I fancy, if we exchange God for fate, and Providence for +chance. . . . Good-night." + +He said this wearily. She looked up at him with an ironical look, then +held out her hand, and quickly bade him good-night. Partings all round +were made, and, after some injunctions to Mrs. Falchion and Justine Caron +from myself as to preventives against illness, the rest of us started for +Sunburst. + +As we went, I could not help but contrast Ruth and Amy Devlin, these two +gentle yet strong mountain girls, with the woman we had left. Their +lives were far from that dolorous tide which, sweeping through a selfish +world, leaves behind it the stain of corroding passions; of cruelties, +ingratitude, hate, and catastrophe. We are all ambitious, in one way or +another. We climb mountains over scoria that frays and lava that burns. +We try to call down the stars, and when, now and then, our conjuring +succeeds, we find that our stars are only blasting meteors. One moral +mishap lames character for ever. A false start robs us of our natural +strength, and a misplaced or unrighteous love deadens the soul and +shipwrecks just conceptions of life. + +A man may be forgiven for a sin, but the effect remains; it has found its +place in his constitution, and it cannot be displaced by mere penitence, +nor yet forgiveness. A man errs, and he must suffer; his father erred, +and he must endure; or some one sinned against the man, and he hid the +sin--But here a hand touched my shoulder! I was startled, for my +thoughts had been far away. Roscoe's voice spoke in my ear: "It is as +she said; the actors come together for 'the curtain.'" + +Then his eyes met those of Ruth Devlin turned to him earnestly and +inquiringly. And I felt for a moment hard against Roscoe, that he should +even indirectly and involuntarily, bring suffering into her life. In +youth, in early manhood, we do wrong. At the time we seem to be injuring +no one but ourselves; but, as we live on, we find that we were wronging +whomsoever should come into our lives in the future. At the instant I +said angrily to myself: "What right has he to love a girl like that, when +he has anything in his life that might make her unhappy, or endanger her +in ever so little!" + +But I bit my tongue, for it seemed to me that I was pharisaical; and I +wondered rather scornfully if I should have been so indignant were the +girl not so beautiful, young, and ingenuous. I tried not to think +further of the matter, and talked much to Ruth,--Gait Roscoe walked with +Mrs. Revel and Amy Devlin,--but I found I could not drive it from my mind. +This was not unnatural, for was not I the "chorus to the play"? + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SONG OF THE SAW + +There was still a subdued note to Roscoe's manner the next morning. +He was pale. He talked freely however of the affairs of Viking and +Sunburst, and spoke of business which called him to Mr. Devlin's great +saw mill that day. A few moments after breakfast we were standing in the +doorway. "Well," he said, "shall we go?" + +I was not quite sure where he meant to go, but I took my hat and joined +him. I wondered if it would be to the summer hotel or the great mill. +My duty lay in the direction of the hotel. When we stepped out, he +added: "Let us take the bridle-path along the edge of the ravine to the +hotel." + +The morning was beautiful. The atmosphere of the woods was of soft, +diffusive green--the sunlight filtering through the transparent leaves. +Bowers of delicate ferns and vines flanked the path, and an occasional +clump of giant cedars invited us: the world was eloquent. + +Several tourists upon the verandah of the hotel remarked us with +curiosity as we entered. A servant said that Mrs. Falchion would be glad +to see us; and we were ushered into her sitting-room. She carried no +trace of yesterday's misadventure. She appeared superbly well. And yet, +when I looked again, when I had time to think upon and observe detail, +I saw signs of change. There was excitement in the eyes, and a slight +nervous darkness beneath them, which added to their charm. She rose, +smiling, and said: "I fear I am hardly entitled to this visit, for I am +beyond convalescence, and Justine is not in need of shrift or diagnosis, +as you see." + +I was not so sure of Justine Caron as she was, and when I had paid my +respects to her, I said a little priggishly (for I was young), still not +too solemnly: "I cannot allow you to pronounce for me upon my patients, +Mrs. Falchion; I must make my own inquiries." + +But Mrs. Falchion was right. Justine Caron was not suffering much from +her immersion; though, speaking professionally, her temperature was +higher than the normal. But that might be from some impulse of the +moment, for Justine was naturally a little excitable. + +We walked aside, and, looking at me with a flush of happiness in her +face, she said: "You remember one day on the 'Fulvia' when I told you +that money was everything to me; that I would do all I honourably could +to get it?" + +I nodded. She continued: "It was that I might pay a debt--you know it. +Well, money is my god no longer, for I can pay all I owe. That is, I can +pay the money, but not the goodness, the noble kindness. He is most +good, is he not? The world is better that such men as Captain Galt +Roscoe live--ah, you see I cannot quite think of him as a clergyman. +I wonder if I ever shall!" She grew suddenly silent and abstracted, and, +in the moment's pause, some ironical words in Mrs. Falchion's voice +floated across the room to me: "It is so strange to see you so. And you +preach, and baptise; and marry, and bury, and care for the poor and--ah, +what is it?--'all those who, in this transitory life, are in sorrow, +need, sickness, or any other adversity'? . . . And do you never long for +the flesh-pots of Egypt? Never long for"--here her voice was not quite +so clear--"for the past?" + +I was sure that, whatever she was doing, he had been trying to keep the +talk, as it were, on the surface. I was equally sure that, to her last +question, he would make no reply. Though I was now speaking to Justine +Caron, I heard him say quite calmly and firmly: "Yes, I preach, baptise, +marry, and bury, and do all I can for those who need help." + +"The people about here say that you are good and charitable. You have +won the hearts of the mountaineers. But you always had a gift that +way."--I did not like her tone.--"One would almost think you had founded +a new dispensation. And if I had drowned yesterday, you would, +I suppose, have buried me, and have preached a little sermon about me. +--You could have done that better than any one else! . . . What +would you have said in such a case?" + +There was an earnest, almost a bitter, protest in the reply. + +"Pardon me, if I cannot answer your question. Your life was saved, and +that is all we have to consider, except to be grateful to Providence. +The duties of my office have nothing to do with possibilities." + +She was evidently torturing him, and I longed to say a word that would +torture her. She continued: "And the flesh-pots--you have not answered +about them: do you not long for them--occasionally?" + +"They are of a period," he answered, "too distant for regret." + +"And yet," she replied softly, "I fancied sometimes in London last year, +that you had not outgrown that antique time--those lotos-days." + +He made no reply at once, and in the pause Justine and I passed out to +the verandah. + +"How long does Mrs. Falchion intend remaining here, Miss Caron?" I said. + +Her reply was hesitating: "I do not quite know; but I think some time. +She likes the place; it seems to amuse her." + +"And you--does it amuse you?" + +"It does not matter about me. I am madame's servant; but, indeed, it +does not amuse me particularly." + +"Do you like the place?" + +The reply was somewhat hurried, and she glanced at me a little nervously. +"Oh yes," she said, "I like the place, but--" + +Here Roscoe appeared at the door and said, "Mrs. Falchion wishes to see +Viking and Mr. Devlin's mills, Marmion. She will go with us." + +In a little time we were on our way to Viking. I walked with Mrs. +Falchion, and Roscoe with Justine. I was aware of a new element in Mrs. +Falchion's manner. She seemed less powerfully attractive to me than in +the old days, yet she certainly was more beautiful. It was hard to trace +the new characteristic. But at last I thought I saw it in a decrease of +that cold composure, that impassiveness, so fascinating in the past. +In its place had come an allusive, restless something, to be found in +words of troublesome vagueness, in variable moods, in an increased +sensitiveness of mind and an undercurrent of emotional bitterness--she +was emotional at last! She puzzled me greatly, for I saw two spirits +in her: one pitiless as of old; the other human, anxious, not unlovely. + +At length we became silent, and walked so side by side for a time. Then, +with that old delightful egotism and selfishness--delightful in its very +daring--she said: "Well, amuse me!" + +"And is it still the end of your existence," I rejoined--"to be amused?" + +"What is there else to do?" she replied with raillery. + +"Much. To amuse others, for instance; to regard human beings as +something more than automata." + +"Has Mr. Roscoe made you a preaching curate? I helped Amshar at the +Tanks." + +"One does not forget that. Yet you pushed Amshar with your foot." + +"Did you expect me to kiss the black coward? Then, I nursed Mr. Roscoe +in his illness." + +"And before that?" + +"And before that I was born into the world, and grew to years of +knowledge, and learned what fools we mortals be, and--and there--is that +Mr. Devlin's big sawmill?" + +We had suddenly emerged on a shelf of the mountainside, and were looking +down into the Long Cloud Valley. It was a noble sight. Far to the north +were foothills covered with the glorious Norfolk pine, rising in steppes +till they seemed to touch white plateaus of snow, which again billowed to +glacier fields whose austere bosoms man's hand had never touched; and +these suddenly lifted up huge, unapproachable shoulders, crowned with +majestic peaks that took in their teeth the sun, the storm, and the +whirlwinds of the north, never changing countenance from day to year and +from year to age. + +Facing this long line of glory, running irregularly on towards that sea +where Franklin and M'Clintock led their gay adventurers,--the bold +ships,--was another shore, not so high or superior, but tall and sombre +and warm, through whose endless coverts of pine there crept and idled the +generous Chinook winds--the soothing breath of the friendly Pacific. +Between these shores the Long Cloud River ran; now boisterous, now soft, +now wallowing away through long channels, washing gorges always dark as +though shaded by winter, and valleys always green as favoured by summer. +Creeping along a lofty narrow path upon that farther shore was a mule +train, bearing packs which would not be opened till, through the great +passes of the mountain, they were spilled upon the floors of fort and +post on the east side of the Rockies. + +Not far from where the mule train crept along was a great hole in the +mountain-side, as though antique giants of the hills had tunnelled +through to make themselves a home or to find the eternal secret of the +mountains. Near to this vast dark cavity was a hut--a mere playhouse, +it seemed, so small was it, viewed from where we stood. From the edge +of a cliff just in front of this hut, there swung a long cable, which +reached almost to the base of the shore beneath us; and, even as we +looked, we saw what seemed a tiny bucket go swinging slowly down that +strange hypotenuse. We watched it till we saw it get to the end of its +journey in the valley beneath, not far from the great mill to which we +were bound. + +"How mysterious!" said Mrs. Falchion. "What does it mean? I never saw +anything like that before. What a wonderful thing!" + +Roscoe explained. "Up there in that hut," he said, "there lives a man +called Phil Boldrick. He is a unique fellow, with a strange history. He +has been miner, sailor, woodsman, river-driver, trapper, salmon-fisher; +--expert at the duties of each of these, persistent at none. He has a +taste for the ingenious and the unusual. For a time he worked in Mr. +Devlin's mill. It was too tame for him. He conceived the idea of +supplying the valley with certain necessaries, by intercepting the mule +trains as they passed across the hills, and getting them down to Viking +by means of that cable. The valley laughed at him; men said it was +impossible. He went to Mr. Devlin, and Mr. Devlin came to me. I have, +as you know, some knowledge of machinery and engineering. I thought the +thing feasible but expensive, and told Mr. Devlin so. However, the +ingenuity of the thing pleased Mr. Devlin, and, with that singular +enterprise which in other directions has made him a rich man, he +determined on its completion. Between us we managed it. Boldrick +carries on his aerial railway with considerable success, as you see." + +"A singular man," said Mrs. Falchion. "I should like to see him. Come, +sit down here and tell me all you know about him, will you not?" + +Roscoe assented. I arranged a seat for us, and we all sat. + +Roscoe was about to begin, when Mrs. Falchion said, "Wait a minute. Let +us take in this scene first." + +We were silent. After a moment I turned to Mrs. Falchion, and said: "It +is beautiful, is it not?" + +She drew in a long breath, her eyes lighted up, and she said, with a +strange abandon of gaiety: "Yes, it is delightful to live." + +It seemed so, in spite of the forebodings of my friend and my own +uneasiness concerning him, Ruth Devlin, and Mrs. Falchion. The place was +all peace: a very monotony of toil and pleasure. The heat drained +through the valley back and forth in visible palpitations upon the roofs +of the houses, the mills, and the vast piles of lumber: all these seemed +breathing. It looked a busy Arcady. From beneath us life vibrated with +the regularity of a pulse: distance gave a kind of delighted ease to +toil. Event appeared asleep. + +But when I look back now, after some years, at the experiences of that +day, I am astonished by the running fire of events, which, unfortunately, +were not all joy. + +As I write I can hear that keen wild singing of the saw come to us +distantly, with a pleasant, weird elation. The big mill hung above the +river, its sides all open, humming with labour, as I had seen it many a +time during my visit to Roscoe. The sun beat in upon it, making a broad +piazza of light about its sides. Beyond it were pleasant shadows, +through which men passed and repassed at their work. Life was busy all +about it. Yet the picture was bold, open, and strong. Great iron hands +reached down into the water, clamped a massive log or huge timber, +lightly drew it up the slide from the water, where, guided by the hand- +spikes of the men, it was laid upon its cradle and carried slowly to the +devouring teeth of the saws: there to be sliced through rib and bone in +moist sandwiched layers, oozing the sweet sap of its fibre; and carried +out again into the open to be drained to dry bones under the exhaust- +pipes of the sun: piles upon piles; houses with wide chinks through which +the winds wandered, looking for tenants and finding none. + +To the north were booms of logs, swilling in the current, waiting for +their devourer. Here and there were groups of river-drivers and their +foremen, prying twisted heaps of logs from the rocks or the shore into +the water. Other groups of river-drivers were scattered upon the banks, +lifting their huge red canoes high up on the platforms, the spring's and +summer's work of river-driving done; while others lounged upon the grass, +or wandered lazily through the village, sporting with the Chinamen, or +chaffing the Indian idling in the sun--a garish figure stoically watching +the inroads of civilisation. The town itself was squat but amiable: +small houses and large huts; the only place of note and dignity, the new +town hall, which was greatly overshadowed by the big mill, and even by +the two smaller ones flanking it north and south. + +But Viking was full of men who had breathed the strong life of the hills, +had stolen from Nature some of her brawny strength, and set themselves up +before her as though a man were as great as a mountain and as good a +thing to see. It was of such a man that Galt Roscoe was to tell us. His +own words I will not give, but will speak of Phil Boldrick as I remember +him and as Roscoe described him to us. + +Of all the men in the valley, none was so striking as Phil Boldrick. +Of all faces his was the most singular; of all characters his the most +unique; of all men he was the most unlucky, save in one thing--the regard +of his fellows. Others might lay up treasures, not he; others lose money +at gambling, not he--he never had much to lose. But yet he did all +things magniloquently. The wave of his hand was expansive, his stride +was swaying and decisive, his over-ruling, fraternal faculty was always +in full swing. Viking was his adopted child; so much so that a gentleman +river-driver called it Philippi; and by that name it sometimes went, and +continues still so among those who knew it in the old days. + +Others might have doubts as to the proper course to pursue under certain +circumstances; it was not so with Phil. They might argue a thing out +orally, he did so mentally, and gave judgment on it orally. He was +final, not oracular. One of his eyes was of glass, and blue; the other +had an eccentricity, and was of a deep and meditative grey. It was a +wise and knowing eye. It was trained to many things--like one servant in +a large family. One side of his face was solemn, because of the gay but +unchanging blue eye, the other was gravely humourous, shrewdly playful. +His fellow citizens respected him; so much so, that they intended to give +him an office in the new-formed corporation; which means that he had +courage and downrightness, and that the rough, straightforward gospel +of the West was properly interpreted by him. + +If a stranger came to the place, Phil was sent first to reconnoitre; if +any function was desirable, Phil was requested to arrange it; if justice +was to be meted out, Phil's opinion had considerable weight--for he had +much greater leisure than other more prosperous men; if a man was taken +ill (this was in the days before a doctor came), Phil was asked to +declare if he would "shy from the finish." + +I heard Roscoe more than once declare that Phil was as good as two +curates to him. Not that Phil was at all pious, nor yet possessed of +those abstemious qualities in language and appetite by which good men are +known; but he had a gift of civic virtue--important in a wicked world, +and of unusual importance in Viking. He had neither self-consciousness +nor fear; and while not possessed of absolute tact in a social way, he +had a knack of doing the right thing bluntly, or the wrong thing with an +air of rightness. He envied no man, he coveted nothing; had once or +twice made other men's fortunes by prospecting, but was poor himself. +And in all he was content, and loved life and Viking. + +Immediately after Roscoe had reached the mountains Phil had become his +champion, declaring that there was not any reason why a man should not +be treated sociably because he was a parson. Phil had been a great +traveller, as had many who settled at last in these valleys to the +exciting life of the river: salmon-catching or driving logs. He had +lived for a time in Lower California and Mexico, and had given Roscoe the +name of The Padre: which suited the genius and temper of the rude +population. And so it was that Roscoe was called The Padre by every one, +though he did not look the character. + +As he told his story of Phil's life I could not help but contrast him +with most of the clergymen I knew or had seen. He had the admirable ease +and tact of a cultured man of the world, and the frankness and warmth of +a hearty nature, which had, however, some inherent strain of melancholy. +Wherever I had gone with him I had noticed that he was received with +good-humoured deference by his rough parishioners and others who were +such only in the broadest sense. Perhaps he would not have succeeded so +well if he had worn clerical clothes. As it was, of a week day, he could +not be distinguished from any respectable layman. The clerical uniform +attracts women more than men, who, if they spoke truly, would resent it. +Roscoe did not wear it, because he thought more of men than of function, +of manliness than clothes; and though this sometimes got him into trouble +with his clerical brethren who dearly love Roman collar, and coloured +stole, and the range of ritual from a lofty intoning to the eastward +position, he managed to live and himself be none the worse, while those +who knew him were certainly the better. + +When Roscoe had finished his tale, Mrs. Falchion said: "Mr. Boldrick must +be a very interesting man;" and her eyes wandered up to the great hole in +the mountain-side, and lingered there. "As I said, I must meet him," she +added; "men of individuality are rare." Then: "That great 'hole in the +wall' is, of course, a natural formation." + +"Yes," said Roscoe. "Nature seems to have made it for Boldrick. He uses +it as a storehouse." + +"Who watches it while he is away?" she said. "There is no door to the +place, of course." + +Roscoe smiled enigmatically. "Men do not steal up here: that is the +unpardonable crime; any other may occur and go unpunished; not it." + +The thought seemed to strike Mrs. Falchion. "I might have known!" she +said. "It is the same in the South Seas among the natives--Samoans, +Tongans, Fijians, and others. You can--as you know, Mr. Roscoe,"--her +voice had a subterranean meaning,--" travel from end to end of those +places, and, until the white man corrupts them, never meet with a case of +stealing; you will find them moral too in other ways until the white man +corrupts them. But sometimes the white man pays for it in the end." + +Her last words were said with a kind of dreaminess, as though they had no +purpose; but though she sat now idly looking into the valley beneath, I +could see that her eyes had a peculiar glance, which was presently turned +on Roscoe, then withdrawn again. On him the effect was so far disturbing +that he became a little pale, but I noticed that he met her glance +unflinchingly and then looked at me, as if to see in how far I had been +affected by her speech. I think I confessed to nothing in my face. + +Justine Caron was lost in the scene before us. She had, I fancy, +scarcely heard half that had been said. Roscoe said to her presently: +"You like it, do you not?" + +"Like it?" she said. "I never saw anything so wonderful." + +"And yet it would not be so wonderful without humanity there," rejoined +Mrs. Falchion. "Nature is never complete without man. All that would +be splendid without the mills and the machinery and Boldrick's cable, +but it would not be perfect: it needs man--Phil Boldrick and Company in +the foreground. Nature is not happy by itself: it is only brooding and +sorrowful. You remember the mountain of Talili in Samoa, Mr. Roscoe, and +the valley about it: how entrancing yet how melancholy it is. It always +seems to be haunted, for the natives never live in the valley. There is +a tradition that once one of the white gods came down from heaven, and +built an altar, and sacrificed a Samoan girl--though no one ever knew +quite why: for there the tradition ends." + +I felt again that there was a hidden meaning in her words; but Roscoe +remained perfectly still. It seemed to me that I was little by little +getting the threads of his story. That there was a native girl; that the +girl had died or been killed; that Roscoe was in some way--innocently I +dared hope--connected with it; and that Mrs. Falchion held the key to the +mystery, I was certain. That it was in her mind to use the mystery, +I was also certain. But for what end I could not tell. What had passed +between them in London the previous winter I did not know: but it seemed +evident that she had influenced him there as she did on the 'Fulvia', had +again lost her influence, and was now resenting the loss, out of pique or +anger, or because she really cared for him. It might be that she cared. + +She added after a moment: "Add man to nature, and it stops sulking: which +goes to show that fallen humanity is better than no company at all." + +She had an inherent strain of mockery, of playful satire, and she told +me once, when I knew her better, that her own suffering always set her +laughing at herself, even when it was greatest. It was this +characteristic which made her conversation very striking, it was so +sharply contrasted in its parts; a heartless kind of satire set against +the most serious and acute statements. One never knew when she would +turn her own or her interlocutor's gravity into mirth. + +Now no one replied immediately to her remarks, and she continued: "If I +were an artist I should wish to paint that scene, given that the lights +were not so bright and that mill machinery not so sharply defined. There +is almost too much limelight, as it were; too much earnestness in the +thing. Either there should be some side-action of mirth to make it less +intense, or of tragedy to render it less photographic; and unless, Dr. +Marmion, you would consent to be solemn, which would indeed be droll; +or that The Padre there--how amusing they should call him that!--should +cease to be serious, which, being so very unusual, would be tragic, I do +not know how we are to tell the artist that he has missed a chance of +immortalising himself." + +Roscoe said nothing, but smiled at her vivacity, while he deprecated her +words by a wave of his hand. I also was silent for a moment; for there +had come to my mind, while she was speaking and I was watching the scene, +something that Hungerford had said to me once on board the 'Fulvia'. +"Marmion," said he, "when everything at sea appears so absolutely +beautiful and honest that it thrills you, and you're itching to write +poetry, look out. There's trouble ahead. It's only the pretty pause in +the happy scene of the play before the villain comes in and tumbles +things about. When I've been on the bridge," he continued, "of a night +that set my heart thumping, I knew, by Jingo! it was the devil playing +his silent overture. Don't you take in the twaddle about God sending +thunderbolts; it's that old war-horse down below.--And then I've kept a +sharp lookout, for I knew as right as rain that a company of waterspouts +would be walking down on us, or a hurricane racing to catch us +broadsides. And what's gospel for sea is good for land, and you'll find +it so, my son." + +I was possessed of the same feeling now as I looked at the scene before +us, and I suppose I seemed moody, for immediately Mrs. Falchion said: +"Why, now my words have come true; the scene can be made perfect. Pray +step down to the valley, Dr. Marmion, and complete the situation, for you +are trying to seem serious, and it is irresistibly amusing--and +professional, I suppose; one must not forget that you teach the young +'sawbones' how to saw." + +I was piqued, annoyed. I said, though I admit it was not cleverly said: +"Mrs. Falchion, I am willing to go and complete that situation, if you +will go with me; for you would provide the tragedy--plenty of it; there +would be the full perihelion of elements; your smile is the incarnation +of the serious." + +She looked at me full in the eyes. "Now that," she said, "is a very good +'quid pro quo'--is that right?--and I have no doubt that it is more or +less true; and for a doctor to speak truth and a professor to be under +stood is a matter for angels. And I actually believe that, in time, you +will be free from priggishness, and become a brilliant conversationalist; +and--suppose we wander on to our proper places in the scene. . . . +Besides, I want to see that strange man, Mr. Boldrick." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE PATH OF THE EAGLE + +We travelled slowly down the hillside into the village, and were about to +turn towards the big mill when we saw Mr. Devlin and Ruth riding towards +us. We halted and waited for them. Mr. Devlin was introduced to Mrs. +Falchion by his daughter, who was sweetly solicitous concerning Mrs. +Falchion and Justine Caron, and seemed surprised at finding them abroad +after the accident of the day before. Ruth said that her father and +herself had just come from the summer hotel, where they had gone to call +upon Mrs. Falchion. Mrs. Falchion heartily acknowledged the courtesy. +She seemed to be playing no part, but was apparently grateful all round; +yet I believe that even already Ruth had caught at something in her +presence threatening Roscoe's peace; whilst she, from the beginning, had, +with her more trained instincts, seen the relations between the clergyman +and his young parishioner.--But what had that to do with her? + +Between Roscoe and Ruth there was the slightest constraint, and I thought +that it gave a troubled look to the face of the girl. Involuntarily, the +eyes of both were attracted to Mrs. Falchion. I believe in that moment +there was a kind of revelation among the three. While I talked to Mr. +Devlin I watched them, standing a little apart, Justine Caron with us. +It must have been a painful situation for them; to the young girl because +a shadow was trailing across the light of her first love; to Roscoe +because the shadow came out of his past; to Mrs. Falchion because she was +the shadow. I felt that trouble was at hand. In this trouble I knew +that I was to play a part; for, if Roscoe had his secret and Mrs. +Falchion had the key to it, I also held a secret which, in case of +desperate need, I should use. I did not wish to use it, for though +it was mine it was also another's. I did not like the look in Mrs. +Falchion's eyes as she glanced at Ruth: I was certain that she resented +Roscoe's regard for Ruth and Ruth's regard for Roscoe; but, up to that +moment, I had not thought it possible that she cared for him deeply. +Once she had influenced me, but she had never cared for me. + +I could see a change in her. Out of it came that glance at Ruth, which +seemed to me the talon-like hatred that shot from the eyes of Goneril and +Regan: and I was sure that if she loved Roscoe there would be mad trouble +for him and for the girl. Heretofore she had been passionless, but there +was a dormant power in her which had only to be wickedly aroused to wreck +her own and others' happiness. Hers was one of those volcanic natures, +defying calculation and ordinary conceptions of life; having the fullest +capacity for all the elementary passions--hatred, love, cruelty, delight, +loyalty, revolt, jealousy. She had never from her birth until now felt +love for any one. She had never been awakened. Even her affection for +her father had been dutiful rather than instinctive. She had provoked +love, but had never given it. She had been self-centred, compulsive, +unrelenting. She had unmoved seen and let her husband go to his doom-- +it was his doom and death so far as she knew. + +Yet, as I thought of this, I found myself again admiring her. She was +handsome, independent, distinctly original, and possessing capacity for +great things. Besides, so far, she had not been actively vindictive-- +simply passively indifferent to the sufferings of others. She seemed to +regard results more than means. All she did not like she could empty +into the mill of the destroying gods: just as General Grant poured +hundreds of thousands of men into the valley of the James, not thinking +of lives but victory, not of blood but triumph. She too, even in her +cruelty, seemed to have a sense of wild justice which disregarded any +incidental suffering. + +I could see that Mr. Devlin was attracted by her, as every man had been +who had ever met her; for, after all, man is but a common slave to +beauty: virtue he respects, but beauty is man's valley of suicide. +Presently she turned to Mr. Devlin, having, as it seemed to me, made +Roscoe and Ruth sufficiently uncomfortable. With that cheerful +insouciance which was always possible to her on the most trying +occasions, she immediately said, as she had often said to me, that she +had come to Mr. Devlin to be amused for the morning, perhaps the whole +day. It was her way, her selfish way, to make men her slaves. + +Mr. Devlin gallantly said that he was at her disposal, and with a kind of +pride added that there was plenty in the valley which would interest her; +for he was a frank, bluff man, who would as quickly have spoken +disparagingly of what belonged to himself, if it was not worthy, +as have praised it. + +"Where shall we go first?" he said. "To the mill?" + +"To the mill, by all means," Mrs. Falchion replied; "I have never been in +a great saw-mill, and I believe this is very fine. Then," she added, +with a little wave of the hand towards the cable running down from Phil +Boldrick's eyrie in the mountains, "then I want to see all that cable can +do--all, remember." + +Mr. Devlin laughed. "Well, it hasn't many tricks, but what it does it +does cleverly, thanks to The Padre." + +"Oh yes," responded Mrs. Falchion, still looking at the cable; "The +Padre, I know, is very clever." + +"He is more than clever," bluffly replied Mr. Devlin, who was not keen +enough to see the faint irony in her tones. + +"Yes," responded Mrs. Falchion in the same tone of voice, "he is more +than clever. I have been told that he was once very brave. I have been +told that once in the South Seas he did his country a great service." + +She paused. I could see Ruth's eyes glisten and her face suffuse, for +though she read the faint irony in the tone, still she saw that the tale +which Mrs. Falchion was evidently about to tell, must be to Galt Roscoe's +credit. Mrs. Falchion turned idly upon Ruth and saw the look in her +face. An almost imperceptible smile came upon her lips. She looked +again at the cable and Phil Boldrick's eyrie, which seemed to have a +wonderful attraction for her. Not turning away from it, save now and +then to glance indolently at Mr. Devlin or Ruth, and once enigmatically +at myself, she said: + +"Once upon a time--that is the way, I believe, to begin a pretty story-- +there were four men-of-war idling about a certain harbour of Samoa. One +of the vessels was the flag-ship, with its admiral on board. On one of +the other vessels was an officer who had years before explored this +harbour. It was the hurricane season. He advised the admiral not to +enter the harbour, for the indications foretold a gale, and himself was +not sure that his chart was in all respects correct, for the harbour had +been hurriedly explored and sounded. But the admiral gave orders, and +they sailed in. + +"That day a tremendous hurricane came crying down upon Samoa. It swept +across the island, levelled forests of cocoa palms, battered villages to +pieces, caught that little fleet in the harbour, and played with it in a +horrible madness. To right and left were reefs, behind was the shore, +with a monstrous surf rolling in; before was a narrow passage. One +vessel made its way out--on it was the officer who had surveyed the +harbour. In the open sea there was safety. He brought his vessel down +the coast a little distance, put a rope about him and in the wild surf +made for the shore. I believe he could have been court-martialled for +leaving his ship, but he was a man who had taken a great many risks of +one kind and another in his time. It was one chance out of a hundred; +but he made it--he got to the shore, travelled down to the harbour where +the men-of-war were careening towards the reefs, unable to make the +passage out, and once again he tied a rope about him and plunged into the +surf to try for the admiral's ship. He got there terribly battered. +They tell how a big wave lifted him and landed him upon the quarter-deck +just as big waves are not expected to do. Well, like the hero in any +melodrama of the kind, he very prettily piloted monsieur the admiral and +his fleet out to the open sea." + +She paused, smiling in an inscrutable sort of way, then turned and said +with a sudden softness in her voice, though still with the air of one who +wished not to be taken with too great a seriousness: "And, ladies and +gentlemen, the name of the ship that led the way was the 'Porcupine'; and +the name of the hero was Commander Galt Roscoe, R.N.; and 'of such is the +kingdom of heaven!'" + +There was silence for a moment. The tale had been told adroitly, and +with such tact as to words that Roscoe could not take offence--need not, +indeed, as he did not, I believe, feel any particular self-consciousness. +I am not sure but he was a little glad that such evidence should have +been given at the moment, when a kind of restraint had come between him +and Ruth, by one who he had reason to think was not wholly his friend +might be his enemy. It was a kind of offset to his premonitions and to +the peril over which he might stumble at any moment. + +To me the situation was almost inexplicable; but the woman herself was +inexplicable: at this moment the evil genius of us all, at that doing +us all a kind of crude, superior justice. I was the first to speak. + +"Roscoe," I said, "I never had heard of this, although I remember the +circumstance as told in the newspapers. But I am glad and proud that I +have a friend with such a record." + +"And, only think," said Mrs. Falchion, "he actually was not court- +martialled for abandoning his ship to save an admiral and a fleet. But +the ways of the English Admiralty are wonderful. They go out of their +way to avoid a court-martial sometimes, and they go out of their way to +establish it sometimes." + +By this time we had started towards the mill. Roscoe walked ahead with +Ruth Devlin. Mr. Devlin, Mrs. Falchion, Justine Caron and myself walked +together. + +Mrs. Falchion presently continued, talking, as it seemed to me, at the +back of Roscoe's head: + +"I have known the Admiralty to force an officer to resign the navy +because he had married a native wife. But I never knew the Admiralty to +court-martial an officer because he did not marry a native wife whom he +OUGHT to have married: but, as I said, the ways of the Admiralty are past +admiration." + +I could see Roscoe's hand clinch at his side, and presently he said over +his shoulder at her: "Your memory and your philosophy are as wonderful +as the Admiralty are inscrutable." + +She laughed. "You have not lost your old gift of retort," she said. +"You are still amusing." + +"Well, come," said Mr. Devlin cheerfully, "let's see if there isn't +something even more amusing than Mr. Roscoe in Viking. I will show you, +Mrs. Falchion, the biggest saw that ever ate the heart out of a Norfolk +pine." + +At the mill Mrs. Falchion was interested. She asked questions concerning +the machinery which mightily pleased Mr. Devlin, they were so apt and +intelligent; and herself assisted in giving an immense log to the teeth +of the largest saw, which, with its six upright blades, ate, and was +never satisfied. She stooped and ran her ungloved hand into the sawdust, +as sweet before the sun has dried it as the scent of a rose. The rich +smell of the fresh-cut lumber filled the air, and suggested all kinds of +remote and pleasant things. The industry itself is one of the first that +comes with the invasion of new territory, and makes one think of man's +first work in the world: to fell the tree and till the soil. It is +impossible to describe that fierce, jubilant song of the saw, which even +when we were near was never shrill or shrieking: never drowning our +voices, but vibrant and delightful. To Mrs. Falchion it was new; she was +impressed. + +"I have seen," she said to Mr. Devlin, "all sorts of enterprises, but +never anything like this. It all has a kind of rough music. It is +enjoyable." + +Mr. Devlin beamed. "I have just added something to the mill that will +please you," he said. + +She looked interested. We all gathered round. I stood between Mrs. +Falchion and Ruth Devlin, and Roscoe beside Justine Caron. + +"It is the greatest mill-whistle in the country," he continued. "It will +be heard from twelve to twenty-five miles, according to the condition of +the atmosphere. I want big things all round, and this is a masterpiece, +I guess. Now, I'll let you hear it if you like. I didn't expect to use +it until to-night at nine o'clock, when, also for the first time, I am to +light the mills by electricity; a thing that's not been attempted yet in +any saw-mill on the Continent. We're going to work night and day for a +couple of months." + +"This is all very wonderful. And are you indebted to Mr. Roscoe in these +things too?--Everybody seems to need him here." + +"Well," said the mill-owner, laughing, "the whistle is my own. It's the +sort of thing I would propose--to blow my trumpet, as it were; but the +electricity and the first experiments in it I owe to The Padre." + +"As I thought," she said, and turned to Roscoe. "I remember," she added, +"that you had an electrical search-light on the 'Porcupine', and that you +were fond of electricity. Do you ever use search-lights here? I should +think they might be of use in your parish. Then, for a change, you could +let the parish turn it upon you, for the sake of contrast and +edification." + +For the moment I was exceedingly angry. Her sarcasm was well veiled, +but I could feel the sardonic touch beneath the smiling surface. This +innuendo seemed so gratuitous. I said to her, almost beneath my breath, +that none of the others could hear: "How womanly!" + +She did no more than lift her eyebrows in acknowledgment, and went on +talking lightly to Mr. Devlin. Roscoe was cool, but I could see now in +his eyes a kind of smouldering anger; which was quite to my wish. +I hoped he would be meek no longer. + +Presently Ruth Devlin said: "Would it not be better to wait till to- +night, when the place is lighted, before the whistle is blown? Then you +can get a better first impression. And if Mrs. Falchion will come over +to our home at Sunburst, we will try and amuse her for the rest of the +day--that is, after she has seen all here." + +Mrs. Falchion seemed struck by the frankness of the girl, and for an +instant debated, but presently said: "No, thank you. When all is seen +now, I will go to the hotel, and then will join you all here in the +evening, if that seems feasible. Perhaps Dr. Marmion will escort me +here. Mr. Roscoe, of course, has other duties." + +"I shall be happy," I said, maliciously smiling, "to guide you to the +sacrifice of the saw." + +She was not disturbed. She touched Mr. Devlin's arm, and, looking archly +at him, nodded backwards towards me. "'Beware the anaconda!'" she said. + +It was impossible not to be amused; her repartee was always so +unrestrained. She disarmed one by what would have been, in a man, +insolent sang-froid: in her it was piquancy, daring. + +Presently she added: "But if we are to have no colossal whistle and no +electric light till evening, there is one thing I must have: and that is +your remarkable Phil Boldrick, who seems to hold you all in the palm of +his hand, and lives up there like a god on his Olympus." + +"Well, suppose you go and call on him," said Roscoe, with a touch of dry +humour, his eye on the cable that reached to Boldrick's perch. + +She saw her opportunity, and answered promptly: "Yes, I will call on him +immediately,"--here she turned towards Ruth,--"if Miss Devlin and +yourself will go with me." + +"Nonsense," interposed Mr. Devlin. "Besides, the cage will only hold two +easily. Anyhow, it's absurd." + +"Why is it absurd? Is there any danger?" queried Mrs. Falchion. + +"Not unless there's an idiot at the machinery." + +"I should expect you to manage it," she persisted. + +"But no woman has ever done it." + +"I will make the record." And, turning to Ruth: "You are not afraid?" + +"No, I am not afraid," said the girl bravely, though she acknowledged to +me afterwards that while she was not afraid of anything where her own +skill was called in question, such as mountain-climbing, or even puma- +hunting, she did not joyfully anticipate swinging between heaven and +earth on that incline. "I will go," she added, "if my father will let +me. . . . May I?" she continued, turning to him. + +Perhaps something of the father's pride came up in him, perhaps he had +just got some suspicion that between his daughter and Mrs. Falchion there +was a subterranean rivalry. However it was, he gave a quick, quizzical +look at both of them, then glanced at Roscoe, and said: "I'll make no +objections, if Ruth would like to introduce you to Phil. And, as Mrs. +Falchion suggested, I'll 'turn the crank.'" + +I could see that Roscoe had a bad moment. But presently he appeared to +me perfectly willing that Ruth should go. Maybe he was as keen that she +should not appear at a disadvantage beside Mrs. Falchion as was her +father. + +A signal was given, and the cage came slowly down the cable to the mill. +We could see Boldrick, looking little bigger than a child at the other +end, watching our movements. At the last moment Mr. Devlin and Roscoe +seemed apprehensive, but the women were cool and determined. I noticed +Mrs. Falchion look at Ruth curiously once or twice after they entered the +cage, and before they started, and what she saw evidently gave her a +higher opinion of the girl, for she laid her hand on Ruth's arm suddenly, +and said: "We will show these mere men what nerve is." + +Ruth nodded, then 'bon voyage' was said, and the signal was given. The +cage ascended at first quickly, then more slowly, swaying up and down a +little on the cable, and climbing higher and higher through the air to +the mountain-side. What Boldrick thought when he saw the two ascending +towards him, he expressed to Mr. Devlin later in the day in vigorous +language: what occurred at his but Ruth Devlin told me afterwards. When +the cage reached him, he helped the two passengers out, and took them to +his hut. With Ruth he had always been a favourite, and he welcomed her +with admiring and affectionate respect. + +"Never b'lieved you could have done it, Miss Devlin--never! Not but what +I knew you weren't afraid of anything on the earth below, or the waters +under the earth; but when you get swinging there over the world, and not +high enough to get a hold on heaven, it makes you feel as if things was +droppin' away from you like. But, by gracious! you did it like an eagle-- +you and your friend." + +By this time he was introduced, and at the name of Mrs. Falchion, +he cocked his head, and looked quizzically, as if trying to remember +something, then drew his hand once or twice across his forehead. +After a moment he said: "Strange, now, ma'am, how your name strikes me. +It isn't a common name, and I've heerd it before somewhere--somewhere. +It isn't your face that I've seen before--for I'd have remembered it if +it was a thousand years ago," he added admiringly. "But I've heard some +one use it; and I can't tell where." + +She looked curiously at him, and said: "Don't try to remember, and it +will come to you in good time. But show us everything about your place +before we go back, won't you, please?" + +He showed them his hut, where he lived, quite alone. It was supplied +with bare necessaries, and with a counter, behind which were cups and a +few bottles. In reference to this, Boldrick said: "Temperance drinks for +the muleteers, tobacco and tea and sugar and postage stamps and things. +They don't gargle their throats with anything stronger than coffee at +this tavern." + +Then he took them to the cave in which puma, bear, and wapiti skins were +piled, together with a few stores and the kits of travellers who had left +their belongings in Boldrick's keeping till they should come again. +After Mrs. Falchion and Ruth had seen all, they came out upon the +mountain-side and waved their handkerchiefs to us, who were still +watching from below. Then Boldrick hoisted a flag on his hut, which he +used on gala occasions, to celebrate the event, and, not content with +this, fired a 'feu de joie', managed in this way: He took two anvils +used by the muleteers and expressmen to shoe their animals, and placed +one on the other, putting powder between. Then Mrs. Falchion thrust a +red-hot iron into the powder, and an explosion ensued. I was for a +moment uneasy, but Mr. Devlin reassured me, and instantly a shrill +whistle from the little mills answered the salute. + +Just before they got into the cage, Mrs. Falchion turned to Boldrick, +and said: "You have not been trying to remember where you heard my name +before? Well, can you not recall it now?" + +Boldrick shook his head. "Perhaps you will recall it before I see you +again," she said. + +They started. As they did so, Mrs. Falchion said suddenly, looking at +Boldrick keenly: "Were you ever in the South Seas?" + +Boldrick stood for an instant open-mouthed, and then exclaimed loudly, +as the cage swung down the incline: "By Jingo! No, ma'am, I was never +there, but I had a pal who come from Samoa." + +She called back at him: "Tell me of him when we meet again. What was his +name?" + +They were too far down the cable now for Boldrick's reply to reach them +distinctly. The descent seemed even more adventurous than the ascent, +and, in spite of myself, I could not help a thrill of keen excitement. +But they were both smiling when the cage reached us, and both had a very +fine colour. + +"A delightful journey, a remarkable reception, and a very singular man +is your Mr. Boldrick," said Mrs. Falchion. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Devlin, "you'll know Boldrick a long time before you +find his limits. He is about the most curious character I ever knew, and +does the most curious things. But straight--straight as a die, Mrs. +Falchion!" + +"I fancy that Mr. Boldrick and I would be very good friends indeed," said +Mrs. Falchion; "and I purpose visiting him again. It is quite probable +that we shall find we have had mutual acquaintances." She looked at +Roscoe meaningly as she said this, but he was occupied with Ruth. + +"You were not afraid?" Roscoe said to Ruth. "Was it not a strange +sensation?" + +"Frankly, at first I was a little afraid, because the cage swings on the +cable, and it makes you uncomfortable. But I enjoyed it before we got to +the end." + +Mrs. Falchion turned to Mr. Devlin. "I find plenty here to amuse me," +she said, "and I am glad I came. To-night I want to go up that cable and +call on Mr. Boldrick again, and see the mills and the electric light, and +hear your whistle, from up there. Then, of course, you must show us the +mill working at night, and afterwards--may I ask it?--you must all come +and have supper with me at the summer hotel." + +Ruth dropped her eyes. I saw she did not wish to go. Fortunately +Mr. Devlin extricated her. "I'm afraid that will be impossible, +Mrs. Falchion," he said: "much obliged to you all the same. But I am +going to be at the mill pretty near all night, and shouldn't be able +to go, and I don't want Ruth to go without me." + +"Then it must be another time," said Mrs. Falchion. + +"Oh, whenever it's convenient for Ruth, after a day or two, I'll be ready +and glad. But I tell you what: if you want to see something fine, you +must go down as soon as possible to Sunburst. We live there, you know, +not here at Viking. It's funny, too, because, you see, there's a feud +between Viking and Sunburst--we are all river-men and mill-hands at +Viking, and they're all salmon-fishers and fruit-growers at Sunburst. +By rights I ought to live here, but when I started I thought I'd build my +mills at Sunburst, so I pitched my tent down there. My wife and the +girls got attached to the place, and though the mills were built at +Viking, and I made all my money up here, I live at Sunburst and spend my +shekels there. I guess if I didn't happen to live at Sunburst, people +would be trailing their coats and making Donnybrook fairs every other day +between these two towns. But that's neither here nor there. Take my +advice, Mrs. Falchion, and come to Sunburst and see the salmon-fishers +at work, both day and night. It is about the biggest thing in the way +of natural picturesqueness that you'll see--outside my mills. Indians, +half-breeds, white men, Chinamen--they are all at it in weirs and cages, +or in the nets, and spearing by torch-light!--Don't you think I would do +to run a circus, Mrs. Falchion?--Stand at the door, and shout: 'Here's +where you get the worth of your money'?" + +Mrs. Falchion laughed. "I am sure you and I will be good friends; you +are amusing. And, to be perfectly frank with you, I am very weary of +trying to live in the intellectual altitudes of Dr. Marmion--and The +Padre." + +I had never seen her in a greater strain of gaiety. It had almost a kind +of feverishness--as if she relished fully the position she held towards +Roscoe and Ruth, her power over their future, and her belief (as I think +was in her mind then) that she could bring back to her self Roscoe's old +allegiance. That she believed this, I was convinced; that she would +never carry it out, was just as strong: for I, though only the chorus in +the drama, might one day find it in my power to become, for a moment, one +of the principal actors--from which position I had declined one day when +humiliated before Mrs. Falchion on the 'Fulvia'. Boyd Madras was in my +mind. + +After a few minutes we parted, agreeing to meet again in the valley in +the evening. I had promised, as Mrs. Falchion had suggested, to escort +her and Justine Caron from the summer hotel to the mill. Roscoe had +duties at both Viking and Sunburst and would not join us until we all met +in the evening. Mr. Devlin and Ruth rode away towards Sunburst. Mrs. +Falchion, Justine, and myself travelled slowly up the hillside, talking +chiefly upon the events of the morning. Mrs. Falchion appeared to +admire greatly the stalwart character of Mr. Devlin; in a few swift, +complimentary words disposed of Ruth; and then made many inquiries +concerning Roscoe's work, my own position, and the length of my stay +in the mountains; and talked upon many trivial matters, never once +referring--as it seemed to me, purposely--to our past experiences on +the 'Fulvia', nor making any inquiry concerning any one except Belle +Treherne. + +She showed no surprise when I told her that I expected to marry Miss +Treherne. She congratulated me with apparent frankness, and asked for +Miss Treherne's address, saying she would write to her. As soon as she +had left Roscoe's presence she had dropped all enigmatical words and +phrases, and, during this hour I was with her, was the tactful, +accomplished woman of the world, with the one present object: to make her +conversation agreeable, and to keep things on the surface. Justine Caron +scarcely spoke during the whole of our walk, although I addressed myself +to her frequently. But I could see that she watched Mrs. Falchion's face +curiously; and I believe that at this time her instinct was keener by far +to read what was in Mrs. Falchion's mind than my own, though I knew much +more of the hidden chain of events connecting Mrs. Falchion's life and +Galt Roscoe's. + +I parted from them at the door of the hotel, made my way down to Roscoe's +house at the ravine, and busied myself for the greater part of the day in +writing letters, and reading on the coping. About sunset I called for +Mrs. Falchion, and found her and Justine Caron ready and waiting. There +was nothing eventful in our talk as we came down the mountain-side +towards Viking--Justine Caron's presence prevented that. It was dusk +when we reached the valley. As yet the mills were all dark. The only +lights visible were in the low houses lining the banks of the river. +Against the mountainside there seemed to hang one bunch of flame like a +star, large, red, and weird. It was a torch burning in front of Phil +Boldrick's hut. We made our way slowly to the mill, and found Mr. +Devlin, Ruth, and Roscoe, with Ruth's sister, and one or two other +friends, expecting us. + +"Well," said Mr. Devlin heartily, "I have kept the show waiting for you. +The house is all dark, but I guess you'll see a transformation scene +pretty quick. Come out," he continued, "and let us get the front seats. +They are all stalls here; nobody has a box except Boldrick, and it is up +in the flies." + +"Mr. Devlin," said Mrs. Falchion, "I purpose to see this show not only +from the stalls, but from the box in the flies. Therefore, during the +first act, I shall be here in front of the foot-lights. During the +second act I shall be aloft like Tom Bowling--" + +"In other words--" began Mr. Devlin. + +"In other words," added Mrs. Falchion, "I am going to see the valley and +hear your great horn blow from up there!" She pointed towards the star +in front of Phil's hut. + +"All right," said Mr. Devlin; "but you will excuse me if I say that I +don't particularly want anybody to see this performance from where Tom +Bowling bides." + +We left the office and went out upon the platform, a little distance from +the mill. Mr. Devlin gave a signal, touched a wire, and immediately it +seemed as if the whole valley was alight. The mill itself was in a blaze +of white. It was transfigured--a fairy palace, just as the mud barges in +the Suez Canal had been transformed by the search-light of the 'Fulvia'. +For the moment, in the wonder of change from darkness to light, the +valley became the picture of a dream. Every man was at his post in the +mill, and in an instant work was going on as we had seen it in the +morning. Then, all at once, there came a great roar, as it were, from +the very heart of the mill--a deep diapason, dug out of the throat of the +hills: the big whistle. + +"It sounds mournful--like a great animal in pain," said Mrs. Falchion. +"You might have got one more cheerful." + +"Wait till it gets tuned up," said Mr. Devlin. "It hasn't had a chance +to get the burs out of its throat. It will be very fine as soon as the +engine-man knows how to manage it." + +"Yes," said Ruth, interposing, "a little toning down would do it good-- +it is shaking the windows in your office; feel this platform tremble!" + +"Well, I bargained for a big whistle and I've got it: and I guess they'll +know if ever there's a fire in the town!" Just as he said this, Roscoe +gave a cry and pointed. + +We all turned, and saw a sight that made Ruth Devlin cover her face with +her hands and Mrs. Falchion stand horror-stricken. There, coming down +the cable with the speed of lightning, was the cage. In it was a man-- +Phil Boldrick. With a cry and a smothered oath, Mr. Devlin sprang +towards the machinery, Roscoe with him. There was nobody near it, but +they saw a boy whose duty it was that night to manage the cable, running +towards it. Roscoe was the first to reach the lever; but it was too +late. He partially stopped the cage, but only partially. It came with +a dull, sickening thud to the ground, and Phil Boldrick--Phil Boldrick's +broken, battered body--was thrown out. + +A few minutes later Boldrick was lying in Mr. Devlin's office. + +Ill luck for Viking in the hour of her success. Phil's shattered hulk is +drifting. The masts have gone by the board, the pilot from the captain's +side. Only the man's "unconquerable soul" is on the bridge, watching the +craft dip at the bow till the waters, their sport out, should hugely +swallow it. + +We were all gathered round. Phil had asked to see the lad who, by +neglecting the machinery for a moment, had wrecked his life. "My boy," +he said, "you played an ugly game. It was a big mistake. I haven't any +grudge agen you, but be glad I'm not one that'd haunt you for your cussed +foolishness. . . . There, now, I feel better; that's off my mind!" + +"If you're wanting to show remorse or anything," he continued, "there's +my friend, Mr. Roscoe, The Padre--he's all right, you understand!--Are +you there? . . . Why don't you speak?" He stretched out his hand. +The lad took it, but he could not speak: he held it and sobbed. + +Then Phil understood. His brow wrinkled with a sudden trouble. He said: +"There, never mind. I'm dying, but it isn't what I expected. It doesn't +smart nor tear much; not more than river-rheumatism. P'r'aps I wouldn't +mind it at all if I could see." + +For Phil was entirely blind now. The accident had destroyed his +remaining eye. Being blind, he had already passed that first corridor +of death--darkness. Roscoe stooped over him, took his hand, and spoke +quietly to him. Phil knew the voice, and said with a faint smile: "Do +you think they'd plant me with municipal honours--honours to pardners?" + +"We'll see to that, Phil," said Mr. Devlin from behind the clergyman. + +Phil recognised the voice. "You think that nobody'll kick at making it +official?" + +"Not one, Phil." + +"And maybe they wouldn't mind firin' a volley--Lights out, as it were: +and blow the big whistle? It'd look sociable, wouldn't it?" + +"There'll be a volley and the whistle, Phil--if you have to go," said Mr. +Devlin. + +There was a silence, then the reply came musingly: "I guess I hev to go. +. . . I'd hev liked to see the corporation runnin' longer, but maybe +I can trust the boys." + +A river-driver at the door said in a deep voice: "By the holy! yes, you +can trust us." + +"Thank you kindly. . . . If it doesn't make any difference to the +rest, I'd like to be alone with The Padre for a little--not for religion, +you understand, for I go as I stayed, and I hev my views,--but for +private business." + +Slowly, awkwardly, the few river-drivers passed out--Devlin and Mrs. +Falchion and Ruth and I with them--for I could do nothing now for him--he +was broken all to pieces. Roscoe told me afterwards what happened then. + +"Padre," he said to Roscoe, "are we alone?" + +"Quite alone, Phil." + +"Well, I hevn't any crime to tell, and the business isn't weighty; but I +hev a pal at Danger Mountain--" He paused. + +"Yes, Phil?" + +"He's low down in s'ciety; but he's square, and we've had the same +blanket for many a day together. I crossed him first on the Panama +level. I was broke--stony broke. He'd been shipwrecked, and was ditto. +He'd been in the South Seas; I in Nicaragua. We travelled up through +Mexico and Arizona, and then through California to the Canadian Rockies. +At last we camped at Danger Mountain, a Hudson's Bay fort, and stayed +there. It was a roughish spot, but we didn't mind that. Every place +isn't Viking. One night we had a difference--not a quarrel, mind you, +but a difference. He was for lynchin' a fellow called Piccadilly, +a swell that'd come down in the world, bringin' the worst tricks of +his tribe with him. He'd never been a bony fidy gentleman--just an +imitation. He played sneak with the daughter of Five Fingers, an Injin +chief. We'd set store by that girl. There wasn't one of us rough nuts +but respected her. She was one of the few beautiful Injin women I've +seen. Well, it come out that Piccadilly had ruined her, and one morning +she was found dead. It drove my pal well-nigh crazy. Not that she was +anything partik'ler to him; but the thing took hold of him unusual." + +Now that I know all concerning Roscoe's past life, I can imagine that +this recital must have been swords at his heart. The whole occurrence is +put down minutely in his diary, but there is no word of comment upon it. + +Phil had been obliged to stop for pain, and, after Roscoe had adjusted +the bandages, he continued: + +"My pal and the others made up their minds they'd lynch Piccadilly; they +wouldn't give him the benefit of the doubt--for it wasn't certain that +the girl hadn't killed herself. . . . Well, I went to Piccadilly, and +give him the benefit. He left, and skipped the rope. Not, p'r'aps, that +he ought to hev got away, but once he'd showed me a letter from his +mother,--he was drunk too, at the time,--and I remembered when my brother +Rodney was killed in the Black Hills, and how my mother took it; so I +give him the tip to travel quick." + +He paused and rested. Then presently continued: "Now, Padre, I've got +four hundred dollars--the most I ever had at one time in my life. And +I'd like it to go to my old pal--though we had that difference, and +parted. I guess we respect each other about the same as we ever did. +And I wish you'd write it down so that the thing would be municipal." + +Roscoe took pencil and paper and said: "What's his name, Phil?" + +"Sam--Tonga Sam." + +"But that isn't all his name?" + +"No, I s'pose not, but it's all he ever had in general use. He'd got it +because he'd been to the Tonga Islands and used to yarn about them. Put +'Tonga Sam, Phil Boldrick's Pal at Danger Mountain, ult'--add the 'ult,' +it's c'rrect.--That'll find him. And write him these words, and if you +ever see him say them to him--'Phil Boldrick never had a pal that crowded +Tonga Sam.'" + +When the document was written, Roscoe read it aloud, then both signed it, +Roscoe guiding the battered hand over the paper. + +This done, there was a moment's pause, and then Phil said: "I'd like to +be in the open. I was born in the open--on the Madawaska. Take me out, +Padre." + +Roscoe stepped to the door, and silently beckoned to Devlin and myself. +We carried him out, and put him beside a pine tree. + +"Where am I now?" he said. "Under the white pine, Phil." "That's +right. Face me to the north." + +We did so. Minutes passed in silence. Only the song of the saw was +heard, and the welting of the river. "Padre," he said at last hurriedly, +"lift me up, so's I can breathe." + +This was done. + +"Am I facin' the big mill?" + +"Yes." + +"That's c'rrect. And the 'lectric light is burnin' in the mill and in +the town, an' the saws are all goin'?" + +"Yes." + +"By gracious, yes--you can hear 'em! Don't they scrunch the stuff, +though!" He laughed a little. "Mr. Devlin an' you and me hev been +pretty smart, hevn't we?" + +Then a spasm caught him, and after a painful pause he called: "It's the +biggest thing in cables. . . . Stand close in the cage. . . . Feel +her swing!--Safe, you bet, if he stands by the lever. . . ." + +His face lighted with the last gleam of living, and he said slowly: "I +hev a pal--at Danger Mountain." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +IN THE TROUGH OF THE WINDS + +The three days following the events recorded in the preceding chapter +were notable to us all. Because my own affairs and experiences are of +the least account, I shall record them first: they will at least throw +a little light on the history of people who appeared previously in this +tale, and disappeared suddenly when the 'Fulvia' reached London, to make +room for others. + +The day after Phil Boldrick's death I received a letter from Hungerford, +and also one from Belle Treherne. Hungerford had left the Occidental +Company's service, and had been fortunate enough to get the position of +first officer on a line of steamers running between England and the West +Indies. The letter was brusque, incisive, and forceful, and declared +that, once he got his foot firmly planted in his new position, he would +get married and be done with it. He said that Clovelly the novelist had +given a little dinner at his chambers in Piccadilly, and that the guests +were all our fellow-passengers by the 'Fulvia'; among them Colonel Ryder, +the bookmaker, Blackburn the Queenslander, and himself. + +This is extracted from the letter: + + . . . Clovelly was in rare form.--Don't run away with the idea + that he's eating his heart out because you came in just ahead in the + race for Miss Treherne. For my part--but, never mind!--You had + phenomenal luck, and you will be a phenomenal fool if you don't + arrange for an early marriage. You are a perfect baby in some + things. Don't you know that the time a woman most yearns for a man + is when she has refused him? And Clovelly is here on the ground, + and they are in the same set, and though I'd take my oath she would + be loyal to you if you were ten thousand miles from here for ten + years, so far as a promise is concerned, yet remember that a promise + and a fancy are two different things. We may do what's right for + the fear o' God, and not love Him either. Marmion, let the marriage + bells be rung early--a maiden's heart is a ticklish thing. . . . + + But Clovelly was in rare form, as I said; and the bookmaker, who + had for the first time read a novel of his, amiably quoted from it, + and criticised it during the dinner, till the place reeked with + laughter. At first every one stared aghast ("stared aghast!"--how + is that for literary form?); but when Clovelly gurgled, and then + haw-hawed till he couldn't lift his champagne, the rest of us + followed in a double-quick. And the bookmaker simply sat calm and + earnest with his eye-glass in his eye, and never did more than + gently smile. "See here," he said ever so candidly of Clovelly's + best character, a serious, inscrutable kind of a man, the dignified + figure in the book--"I liked the way you drew that muff. He was + such an awful outsider, wasn't he? All talk, and hypocrite down to + his heels. And when you married him to that lady who nibbled her + food in public and gorged in the back pantry, and went 'slumming' + and made shoulder-strings for the parson--oh, I know the kind!"-- + [This was Clovelly's heroine, whom he had tried to draw, as he said + himself, "with a perfect sincerity and a lovely worldly-mindedness, + and a sweet creation altogether."] "I said, that's poetic justice, + that's the refinement of retribution. Any other yarn-spinner would + have killed the male idiot by murder, or a drop from a precipice, or + a lingering fever; but Clovelly did the thing with delicate torture. + He said, 'Go to blazes,' and he fixed up that marriage--and there + you are! Clovelly, I drink to you; you are a master!" + + Clovelly acknowledged beautifully, and brought off a fine thing + about the bookmaker having pocketed L5000 at the Derby, then + complimented Colonel Ryder on his success as a lecturer in London + (pretty true, by the way), and congratulated Blackburn on his coming + marriage with Mrs. Callendar, the Tasmanian widow. What he said of + myself I am not going to repeat; but it was salaaming all round, + with the liquor good, and fun bang over the bulwarks. + + How is Roscoe? I didn't see as much of him as you did, but I liked + him. Take my tip for it, that woman will make trouble for him some + day. She is the biggest puzzle I ever met. I never could tell + whether she liked him or hated him; but it seems to me that either + would be the ruin of any "Christom man." I know she saw something + of him while she was in London, because her quarters were next to + those of my aunt the dowager (whose heart the gods soften at my + wedding!) in Queen Anne's Mansions, S.W., and who actually liked + Mrs. F., called on her, and asked her to dinner, and Roscoe too, + whom she met at her place. I believe my aunt would have used her + influence to get him a good living, if he had played his cards + properly; but I expect he wouldn't be patronised, and he went for a + "mickonaree," as they say in the South Seas. . . . Well, I'm off + to the Spicy Isles, then back again to marry a wife. "Go thou and + do likewise." + + By the way, have you ever heard of or seen Boyd Madras since he + slipped our cable at Aden and gave the world another chance? + I trust he will spoil her wedding--if she ever tries to have one. + May I be there to see! + +Because we shall see nothing more of Hungerford till we finally dismiss +the drama, I should like to say that this voyage of his to the West +Indies made his fortune--that is, it gave him command of one of the +finest ships in the English merchant service. In a storm a disaster +occurred to his vessel, his captain was washed overboard, and he was +obliged to take command. His skill, fortitude, and great manliness, +under tragical circumstances, sent his name booming round the world; and, +coupled, as it was, with a singular act of personal valour, he had his +pick of all vacancies and possible vacancies in the merchant service, boy +(or little more) as he was. I am glad to say that he is now a happy +husband and father too. + +The letter from Belle Treherne mentioned having met Clovelly several +times of late, and, with Hungerford's words hot in my mind, I determined, +though I had perfect confidence in her, as in myself, to be married at +Christmas-time. Her account of the courtship of Blackburn and Mrs. +Callendar was as amusing as her description of an evening which the +bookmaker had spent with her father, when he said he was going to marry +an actress whom he had seen at Drury Lane Theatre in a racing drama. +This he subsequently did, and she ran him a break-neck race for many a +day, but never making him unhappy or less resourceful. His verdict, and +his only verdict, upon Mrs. Falchion had been confided to Blackburn, who +in turn confided it to Clovelly, who passed it on to me. + +He said: "A woman is like a horse. Make her beautiful, give her a high +temper and a bit of bad luck in her youth, and she'll take her revenge +out of life; even though she runs straight, and wins straight every time; +till she breaks her heart one day over a lost race. After that she is +good to live with for ever. A heart-break for that kind is their +salvation: without it they go on breaking the hearts of others." + +As I read Belle's and Hungerford's letters my thoughts went back again +--as they did so often indeed--to the voyage of the 'Fulvia', and then to +Mrs. Falchion's presence in the Rocky Mountains. There was a strange +destiny in it all, and I had no pleasant anticipations about the end; +for, even if she could or did do Roscoe no harm, so far as his position +was concerned, I saw that she had already begun to make trouble between +him and Ruth. + +That day which saw poor Boldrick's death put her in a conflicting light +to me. Now I thought I saw in her unusual gentleness, again an unusual +irony, an almost flippant and cruel worldliness; and though at the time +she was most touched by the accident, I think her feeling of horror at it +made her appear to speak in a way which showed her unpleasantly to Mr. +Devlin and his daughter. It may be, however, that Ruth Devlin saw +further into her character than I guessed, and understood the strange +contradictions of her nature. But I shall, I suppose, never know +absolutely about that; nor does it matter much now. + +The day succeeding Phil's death was Sunday, and the little church at +Viking was full. Many fishers had come over from Sunburst. It was +evident that people expected Roscoe to make some reference to Phil's +death in his sermon, or, at least, have a part of the service +appropriate. By a singular chance the first morning lesson was David's +lamentation for Saul and Jonathan. Roscoe had a fine voice. He read +easily, naturally--like a cultivated layman, not like a clergyman; like a +man who wished to convey the simple meaning of what he read, reverently, +honestly. On the many occasions when I heard him read the service, +I noticed that he never changed the opening sentence, though there were, +of course, others from which to choose. He drew the people to their feet +always with these words, spoken as it were directly to them: + + "When the wicked man turneth away from the wickedness that he hath + committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save + his soul alive." + +I noticed this morning that he instantly attracted the attention of every +one, and held it, with the first words of the lesson: + + "The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places: how are the + mighty fallen!" + +It seemed to me as if the people at first almost tried to stop breathing, +so intense was the feeling. Mrs. Falchion was sitting very near me, and +though she had worn her veil up at first, as I uncharitably put it then, +to disconcert him, she drew it rather quickly down as his reading +proceeded; but, so far as I could see, she never took her eyes off +his face through the whole service; and, impelled in spite of myself, +I watched her closely. Though Ruth Devlin was sitting not far from her, +she scarcely looked that way. + +Evidently the text of the sermon was not chosen that it might have some +association with Phil's death, but there was a kind of simple grandeur, +and certainly cheerful stalwartness, in his interpretation and practical +rendering of the text: + + "Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? + . . . travelling in the greatness of his strength? I that speak + in righteousness, mighty to save." + +A man was talking to men sensibly, directly, quietly. It was impossible +to resist the wholesome eloquence of his temperament; he was a revelation +of humanity: what he said had life. + +I said to myself, as I had before, Is it possible that this man ever did +anything unmanly? + +After the service, James Devlin--with Ruth--came to Roscoe and myself, +and asked us to lunch at his house. Roscoe hesitated, but I knew it was +better for him not to walk up the hills and back again immediately after +luncheon; so I accepted for us both; and Ruth gave me a grateful look. +Roscoe seemed almost anxious not to be alone with Ruth--not from any +cowardly feeling, but because he was perplexed by the old sense of coming +catastrophe, which, indeed, poor fellow, he had some cause to feel. He +and Mr. Devlin talked of Phil's funeral and the arrangements that had +been made, and during the general conversation Ruth and I dropped behind. + +Quite abruptly she said to me: "Who is Mrs. Falchion?" + +"A widow--it is said--rich, unencumbered," I as abruptly answered. + +"But I suppose even widows may have pedigrees, and be conjugated in the +past tense," was the cool reply. She drew herself up a little proudly. + +I was greatly astonished. Here was a girl living most of her life in +these mountains, having only had a few years of social life in the East, +practising with considerable skill those arts of conversation so much +cultivated in metropolitan drawing-rooms. But I was a very dull fellow +then, and had yet to learn that women may develop in a day to wonderful +things. + +"Well," I said in reply, "I suppose not. But I fear I cannot answer +regarding the pedigree, nor a great deal about the past, for I only met +her under two years ago." + +"And yet I have imagined that you knew her pretty well, and that Mr. +Roscoe knew her even better--perhaps," she said suggestively. + +"That is so," I tried to say with apparent frankness, "for she lived in +the South Seas with her father, and Roscoe knew her there." + +"She is a strange woman, and quite heartless in some ways; and yet, do +you know, I like her while I dislike her; and I cannot tell why." + +"Do not try to tell," I answered, "for she has the gift of making people +do both.--I think she likes and dislikes herself--as well as others." + +"As well--as others," she replied slowly. "Yes, I think I have noticed +that. You see," she added, "I do not look at people as most girls of my +age: and perhaps I am no better for that. But Mrs. Falchion's +introduction to me occurred in such peculiar circumstances, and the +coincidence of your knowing her was so strange, that my interest is +not unnatural, I suppose." + +"On the contrary," I said, "I am only surprised that you have restrained +your curiosity so much and so long. It was all very strange; though the +meeting was quite to be expected, as Mrs. Falchion herself explained that +day. She had determined on coming over to the Pacific Coast; this place +was in her way; it is a fashionable resort; and she stood a good chance +of finding old friends." + +"Yes--of finding--old friends," was the abstracted reply. "I like Miss +Caron, her companion, very much better than--most women I have met." + +This was not what she was going to say, but she checked herself, lest +she might be suspected of thinking uncharitably of Mrs. Falchion. I, +of course, agreed with her, and told her the story of Galt Roscoe and +Hector Caron, and of Justine's earnestness regarding her fancied debt +to Roscoe. + +I saw that the poison of anxiety had entered the girl's mind; and it +might, perhaps, bear fruit of no engaging quality. In her own home, +however, it was a picture to see her with her younger sisters and +brothers, and invalid mother. She went about very brightly and sweetly +among them, speaking to them as if she was mother to them all, angel of +them all, domestic court for them all; as indeed she was. Here there +seemed no disturbing element in her; a close observer might even have +said (and in this case I fancy I was that) that she had no mind or heart +for anything or anybody but these few of her blood and race. Hers was a +fine nature--high, wholesome, unselfish. Yet it struck me sadly also, +to see how the child-like in her, and her young spirit, had been so early +set to the task of defence and protection: a mother at whose breasts +a child had never hung; maternal, but without the relieving joys of +maternity. + +I knew that she would carry through her life that too watchful, too +anxious tenderness; that to her last day she would look back and not +remember that she had a childhood once; because while yet a child she had +been made into a woman. + +Such of the daughters of men make life beautiful; but themselves are +selfish who do not see the almost intolerable pathos of unselfishness +and sacrifice. At the moment I was bitter with the thought that, if Mrs. +Falchion intended anything which could steal away this girl's happiness +from her, even for a time, I should myself seek to retaliate--which was, +as may appear, in my power. But I could not go to Mrs. Falchion now and +say: "You intend some harm to these two: for God's sake go away and leave +them alone!" I had no real ground for making such a request. Besides, +if there was any catastrophe, any trouble, coming, or possible, that +might hasten it, or, at least, give it point. + +I could only wait. I had laid another plan, and from a telegram I had +received in answer to one I had sent, I believed it was working. I did +not despair. I had, indeed, sent a cable to my agent in England, which +was to be forwarded to the address given me by Boyd Madras at Aden. +I had got a reply saying that Boyd Madras had sailed for Canada by the +Allan Line of steamers. I had then telegraphed to a lawyer I knew in +Montreal, and he had replied that he was on the track of the wanderer. + +All Viking and Sunburst turned out to Phil Boldrick's funeral. +Everything was done that he had requested. The great whistle roared +painfully, revolvers and guns were fired over his grave, and the new- +formed corporation appeared. He was buried on the top of a foot-hill, +which, to this day, is known as Boldricks' Own. The grave was covered by +an immense flat stone bearing his name. But a flagstaff was erected +near, no stouter one stands on Beachy Head or elsewhere,--and on it was +engraved: + + PHIL BOLDRICK, + + Buried with Municipal Honours on + the Thirtieth day of June 1883. + + This to his Memory, and for the honour of + Viking and Sunburst. + +"Padre," said a river-driver to Galt Roscoe after the rites were +finished, "that was a man you could trust." + +"Padre," added another, "that was a man you could bank on, and draw your +interest reg'lar. He never done a mean thing, and he never pal'd with a +mean man. He wasn't for getting his teeth on edge like some in the valley. +He didn't always side with the majority, and he had a gift of doin' things +on the square." + +Others spoke in similar fashion, and then Viking went back to work, and +we to our mountain cottage. + +Many days passed quietly. I saw that Galt Roscoe wished to speak +to me on the subject perplexing him, but I did not help him. I knew +that it would come in good time, and the farther off it was the better. +I dreaded to hear what he had to tell, lest, in spite of my confidence in +him, it should really be a thing which, if made public, must bring ruin. +During the evenings of these days he wrote much in his diary--the very +book that lies by me now. Writing seemed a relief to him, for he was +more cheerful afterwards. I know that he had received letters from the +summer hotel, but whether they were from Mrs. Falchion or Justine Caron I +was not then aware, though I afterwards came to know that one of them was +from Justine, asking him if she might call on him. He guessed that the +request was connected with Hector Caron's death; and, of course, gave his +consent. During this time he did not visit Ruth Devlin, nor did he +mention her name. As for myself, I was sick of the whole business, +and wished it well over, whatever the result. + +I make here a few extracts from Roscoe's diary, to show the state of his +mind at this period: + + Can a man never get away from the consequences of his wickedness, + even though he repents? . . . Restitution is necessary as well + as repentance; but when one cannot make restitution, when it is + impossible--what then? I suppose one has to reply, Well, you have + to suffer, that is all. . . . Poor Alo! To think that after all + these years, you can strike me! + + There is something malicious in the way Mercy Falchion crosses my + path. What she knows, she knows; and what she can do if she + chooses, I must endure. I cannot love Mercy Falchion again, and + that, I suppose, is the last thing she would wish now. I cannot + bring Alo back. But how does that concern her! Why does she hate + me so? For, underneath her kindest words,--and they are kind + sometimes,--I can detect the note of enmity, of calculating scorn. + . . . I wish I could go to Ruth and tell her all, and ask her to + decide if she can take a man with such a past. . . . What a + thing it is to have had a clean record of unflinching manliness at + one's back! + +I add another extract: + + Phil's story of Danger Mountain struck like ice at my heart. There + was a horrible irony in the thing: that it should be told to me, of + all the world, and at such a time. Some would say, I suppose, that + it was the arrangement of Providence. Not to speak it profanely, it + seems to be the achievement of the devil. The torture was too + malicious for God. . . . + + Phil's letter has gone to his pal at Danger Mountain. . . . + +The fourth day after the funeral Justine Caron came to see Galt Roscoe. +This was the substance of their conversation, as I came to know long +afterwards. + +"Monsieur," she said, "I have come to pay something of a debt which I owe +to you. It is a long time since you gave my poor Hector burial, but I +have never forgotten, and I have brought you at last--you must not shake +your head so--the money you spent. . . . But you MUST take it. I +should be miserable if you did not. The money is all that I can repay; +the kindness is for memory and gratitude always." + +He looked at her wonderingly, earnestly, she seemed so unworldly, +standing there, her life's ambition not stirring beyond duty to her dead. +If goodness makes beauty, she was beautiful; and yet, besides all that, +she had a warm, absorbing eye, a soft, rounded cheek, and she carried in +her face the light of a cheerful, engaging spirit. + +"Will it make you happier if I take the money?" he said at last, and his +voice showed how she had moved him. + +"So much happier!" she answered, and she put a roll of notes into his +hand. + +"Then I will take it," he replied, with a manner not too serious, and he +looked at the notes carefully; "but only what I actually spent, remember; +what I told you when you wrote me at Hector's death; not this ample +interest. You forget, Miss Caron, that your brother was my friend." + +"No I cannot forget that. It lives with me," she rejoined softly. But +she took back the surplus notes. "And I have my gratitude left still," +she added, smiling. + +"Believe me, there is no occasion for gratitude. Why, what less could +one do?" + +"One could pass by on the other side." + +"He was not fallen among thieves," was his reply; "he was among +Englishmen, the old allies of the French." + +"But the Priests and the Levites, people of his own country--Frenchmen-- +passed him by. They were infamous in falsehood, cruel to him and to me. +--You are an Englishman; you have heart and kindness." + +He hesitated, then he gravely said: "Do not trust Englishmen more than +you trust your own countrymen. We are selfish even in our friendships +often. We stick to one person, and to benefit that one we sacrifice +others. Have you found all Englishmen--and WOMEN unselfish?" He looked +at her steadily; but immediately repented that he had asked the question, +for he had in his mind one whom they both knew, too well, perhaps; and he +added quickly: "You see, I am not kind." + +They were standing now in the sunlight just outside the house. His hands +were thrust down in the pockets of his linen coat; her hands opening and +shutting her parasol slightly. They might, from their appearance, have +been talking of very inconsequent things. + +Her eyes lifted sorrowfully to his. "Ah, monsieur," she rejoined, "there +are two times when one must fear a woman." She answered his question +more directly than he could have conjectured. But she felt that she must +warn him. + +"I do not understand," he said. + +"Of course you do not. Only women themselves understand that the two +times when one must fear a woman are when she hates, and when she loves-- +after a kind. When she gets wicked or mad enough to hate, either through +jealousy or because she cannot love where she would, she is merciless. +She does not know the honour of the game. She has no pity. Then, +sometimes when she loves in a way, she is, as you say, most selfish. +I mean a love which--is not possible. Then she does some mad act--all +women are a little mad sometimes. Most of us wish to be good, but we are +quicksilver. . . ." + +Roscoe's mind had been working fast. He saw she meant to warn him +against Mrs. Falchion. His face flushed slightly. He knew that Justine +had thought well of him, and now he knew also that she suspected +something not creditable or, at least, hazardous in his life. + +"And the man--the man whom the woman hates?" + +"When the woman hates--and loves too, the man is in danger." + +"Do you know of such a man?" he almost shrinkingly said. + +"If I did I would say to him, The world is wide. There is no glory in +fighting a woman who will not be fair in battle. She will say what may +appear to be true, but what she knows in her own heart to be false--false +and bad." + +Roscoe now saw that Justine had more than an inkling of his story. + +He said calmly: "You would advise that man to flee from danger?" + +"Yes, to flee," she replied hurriedly, with a strange anxiety in her +eyes; "for sometimes a woman is not satisfied with words that kill. She +becomes less than human, and is like Jael." + +Justine knew that Mrs. Falchion held a sword over Roscoe's career; +she guessed that Mrs. Falchion both cared for him and hated him too; +but she did not know the true reason of the hatred--that only came out +afterwards. Woman-like, she exaggerated in order that she might move +him; but her motive was good, and what she said was not out of keeping +with the facts of life. + +"The man's life even might be in danger?" he asked. + +"It might." + +"But surely that is not so dreadful," he still said calmly. + +"Death is not the worst of evils." + +"No, not the worst; one has to think of the evil word as well. The evil +word can be outlived; but the man must think of those who really love +him--who would die to save him--and whose hearts would break if he +were killed. Love can outlive slander, but it is bitter when it has to +outlive both slander and death. It is easy to love with joy so long as +both live, though there are worlds between. Thoughts fly and meet; but +Death makes the great division. . . . Love can only live in the +pleasant world." + +Very abstractedly he said: "Is it a pleasant world to you?" + +She did not reply directly to that, but answered: "Monsieur, if you know +of such a man as I speak of, warn him to fly." And she raised her eyes +from the ground and looked earnestly at him. Now her face was slightly +flushed, she looked almost beautiful. + +"I know of such a man," he replied, "but he will not go. He has to +answer to his own soul and his conscience. He is not without fear, but +it is only fear for those who care for him, be they ever so few. And he +hopes that they will be brave enough to face his misery, if it must come. +For we know that courage has its hour of comfort. . . . When such a +man as you speak of has his dark hour he will stand firm." + +Then with a great impulse he added: "This man whom I know did wrong, but +he was falsely accused of doing a still greater. The consequence of the +first thing followed him. He could never make restitution. Years went +by. Some one knew that dark spot in his life--his Nemesis." + +"The worst Nemesis in this life, monsieur, is always a woman," she +interrupted. + +"Perhaps she is the surest," he continued. "The woman faced him in the +hour of his peace and--" he paused. His voice was husky. + +"Yes, 'and,' monsieur?" + +"And he knows that she would ruin him, and kill his heart and destroy his +life." + +"The waters of Marah are bitter," she murmured, and she turned her face +away from him to the woods. There was no trouble there. The birds were +singing, black squirrels were jumping from bough to bough, and they could +hear the tapping of the woodpecker. She slowly drew on her gloves, as if +for occupation. + +He spoke at length as though thinking aloud: "But he knows that, whatever +comes, life has had for him more compensations than he deserves. For, in +his trouble, a woman came, and said kind words, and would have helped him +if she could." + +"There were TWO women," she said solemnly. + +"Two women?" he repeated slowly. + +"The one stayed in her home and prayed, and the other came." + +"I do not understand," he said: and he spoke truly. + +"Love is always praying for its own, therefore one woman prayed at home. +The other woman who came was full of gratitude, for the man was noble, +she owed him a great debt, and she believed in him always. She knew that +if at any time in his life he had done wrong, the sin was without malice +or evil." + +"The woman is gentle and pitiful with him, God knows." + +She spoke quietly now, and her gravity looked strange in one so young. + +"God knows she is just, and would see him fairly treated. She is so far +beneath him! and yet one can serve a friend though one is humble and +poor." + +"How strange," he rejoined, "that the man should think himself miserable +who is befriended in such a way! Mademoiselle, he will carry to his +grave the kindness of this woman." + +"Monsieur," she added humbly, yet with a brave light in her eyes, "it is +good to care whether the wind blows bitter or kind. Every true woman is +a mother, though she have no child. She longs to protect the suffering, +because to protect is in her so far as God is. . . . Well, this woman +cares that way. . . ." She held out her hand to say good-bye. Her +look was simple, direct, and kind. Their parting words were few and +unremarkable. + +Roscoe watched Justine Caron as she passed out into the shade of the +woods, and he said to himself: "Gratitude like that is a wonderful +thing." He should have said something else, but he did not know, +and she did not wish him to know: and he never knew. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A DUEL IN ARCADY + +The more I thought of Mrs. Falchion's attitude towards Roscoe, the more +I was puzzled. But I had at last reduced the position to this: Years +ago Roscoe had cared for her and she had not cared for him. Angered +or indignant at her treatment of him, Roscoe's affections declined +unworthily elsewhere. Then came a catastrophe of some kind, in which +Alo (whoever she was) suffered. The secret of this catastrophe Mrs. +Falchion, as I believe, held. There was a parting, a lapse of years, +and then the meeting on the 'Fulvia': with it, partial restoration of Mrs. +Falchion's influence, then its decline, and then a complete change of +position. It was now Mrs. Falchion that cared, and Roscoe that shunned. +It perplexed me that there seemed to be behind Mrs. Falchion's present +regard for Roscoe some weird expression of vengeance, as though somehow +she had been wronged, and it was her duty to punish. In no other way was +the position definable. That Roscoe would never marry her was certain to +my mind. That he could not marry her now was also certain--to me; I had +the means to prevent it. That she wished to marry him I was not sure, +though she undoubtedly cared for him. Remained, therefore, +the supposition that if he cared for her she would do him no harm, +as to his position. But if he married Ruth, disaster would come-- +Roscoe himself acknowledged that she held the key of his fortunes. + +Upon an impulse, and as a last resort, I had taken action whereby in +some critical moment I might be able to wield a power over Mrs. Falchion. +I was playing a blind game, but it was the only card I held. I had heard +from the lawyer in Montreal that Madras, under another name, had gone to +the prairie country to enter the mounted police. I had then telegraphed +to Winnipeg, but had got no answer. + +I had seen her many times, but we had never, except very remotely, +touched upon the matter which was uppermost in both our minds. It was +not my wish to force the situation. I knew that my opportunity would +come wherein to spy upon the mind of the enemy. It came. On the evening +that Justine Caron called upon Roscoe, I accidentally met Mrs. Falchion +in the grounds of the hotel. She was with several people, and as I spoke +to her she made a little gesture of invitation. I went over, was +introduced to her companions, and then she said: + +"Dr. Marmion, I have not yet made that visit to the salmon-fishers at +Sunburst. Unfortunately, on the days when I called on Miss Devlin, my +time was limited. But now I have a thirst for adventure, and time hangs +heavy. Will you perform your old office of escort, and join a party, +which we can make up here, to go there to-morrow?" + +I had little love for Mrs. Falchion, but I consented, because it seemed +to me the chance had come for an effective talk with her; and I suggested +that we should go late in the afternoon of the next day, and remain till +night and see the Indians, the half-breeds, and white fishermen working +by torch-light on the river. The proposition was accepted with delight. + +Then the conversation turned upon the feud that existed between Viking +and Sunburst, the river-drivers and the fishers. During the last few +days, owing to the fact that there were a great many idle river-men +about, the river-driving for the season being done, there had been more +than one quarrel of a serious nature at Sunburst. It had needed a great +deal of watchfulness on the part of Mr. Devlin and his supporters to +prevent fighting. In Sunburst itself, Mr. Devlin had much personal +influence. He was a man of exceedingly strong character, bold, powerful, +persuasive. But this year there had been a large number of rough, +adventurous characters among the river-men, and they seemed to take +delight in making sport of, and even interfering with, the salmon- +fishers. We talked of these things for some time, and then I took my +leave. As I went, Mrs. Falchion stepped after me, tapped me on the arm, +and said in a slow, indolent tone: + +"Whenever you and I meet, Dr. Marmion, something happens--something +strange. What particular catastrophe have you arranged for to-morrow? +For you are, you know, the chorus to the drama." + +"Do not spoil the play by anticipation," I said. + +"One gets very weary of tragedy," she retorted. "Comedy would be a +relief. Could you not manage it?" + +"I do not know about to-morrow," I said, "as to a comedy. But I promise +you that one of these days I will present to you the very finest comedy +imaginable." + +"You speak oracularly," she said; "still you are a professor, and +professors always pose. But now, to be perfectly frank with you, I do +not believe that any comedy you could arrange would be as effective as +your own." + +"You have read 'Much Ado about Nothing'," I said. + +"Oh, it is as good as that, is it?" she asked. + +"Well, it has just as good a final situation," I answered. She seemed +puzzled, for she saw I spoke with some undercurrent of meaning. "Mrs. +Falchion," I said to her suddenly and earnestly, "I wish you to think +between now and to-morrow of what I am just going to say to you." + +"It sounds like the task set an undergraduate, but go on," she said. + +"I wish you to think," said I, "of the fact that I helped to save your +life." + +She flushed; an indignant look shot into her face, and her voice +vibrating, she said: + +"What man would have done less?" Then, almost immediately after, as +though repenting of what she had said, she continued in a lower tone +and with a kind of impulsiveness uncommon to her: "But you had courage, +and I appreciate that; still, do not ask too much. Good-night." + +We parted at that, and did not meet again until the next afternoon, when +I joined her and her party at the summer hotel. Together we journeyed +down to Sunburst. + +It was the height of the salmon-fishing season. Sunburst lay cloyed +among the products of field and forest and stream. At Viking one got the +impression of a strong pioneer life, vibrant, eager, and with a touch of +Arcady. But viewed from a distance Sunburst seemed Arcady itself. It +was built in green pastures, which stretched back on one side of the +river, smooth, luscious, undulating to the foot-hills. This was on one +side of the Whi-Whi River. On the other side was a narrow margin, and +then a sheer wall of hills in exquisite verdure. The houses were of +wood, and chiefly painted white, sweet and cool in the vast greenness. +Cattle wandered shoulders deep in the rich grass, and fruit of all kinds +was to be had for the picking. The population was strangely mixed. +Men had drifted here from all parts of the world, sometimes with their +families, sometimes without them. Many of them had settled here after +mining at the Caribou field and other places on the Frazer River. +Mexican, Portuguese, Canadian, Californian, Australian, Chinaman, and +coolie lived here, side by side, at ease in the quiet land, following a +primitive occupation with primitive methods. + +One could pick out the Indian section of the village, because not far +from it was the Indian graveyard, with its scaffolding of poles and brush +and its offerings for the dead. There were almost interminable rows of +scaffolding on the river's edge and upon the high bank where hung the +salmon drying in the sun. The river, as it ambled along, here over +shallows, there over rapids and tiny waterfalls, was the pathway for +millions and millions of salmon upon a pilgrimage to the West and North-- +to the happy hunting grounds of spawn. They came in droves so thick at +times that, crowding up the little creeks which ran into the river, they +filled them so completely as to dam up the water and make the courses a +solid mass of living and dead fish. In the river itself they climbed the +rapids and leaped the little waterfalls with incredible certainty; except +where man had prepared his traps for them. Sometimes these traps were +weirs or by-washes, made of long lateral tanks of wicker-work. Down +among the boulders near the shore, scaffoldings were raised, and from +these the fishermen with nets and wicker-work baskets caught the fish as +they came up. + +We wandered about during the afternoon immensely interested in all +that we saw. During that time the party was much together, and my +conversation with Mrs. Falchion was general. We had supper at a quiet +little tavern, idled away an hour in drinking in the pleasant scene; and +when dusk came went out again to the banks of the river. + +From the time we left the tavern to wander by the river I managed to be a +good deal alone with Mrs. Falchion. I do not know whether she saw that I +was anxious to speak with her privately, but I fancy she did. Whatever +we had to say must, in the circumstances, however serious, be kept +superficially unimportant. And, as it happened, our serious conference +was carried on with an air of easy gossip, combined with a not artificial +interest in all we saw. And there was much to see. Far up and down the +river the fragrant dusk was spotted with the smoky red light of torches, +and the atmosphere shook with shadows, through which ran the song of the +river, more amiable than the song of the saw, and the low, weird cry of +the Indians and white men as they toiled for salmon in the glare of the +torches. Here upon a scaffolding a half-dozen swung their nets and +baskets in the swift river, hauling up with their very long poles thirty +or forty splendid fish in an hour; there at a small cascade, in great +baskets sunk into the water, a couple of Indians caught and killed the +salmon that, in trying to leap the fall, plumped into the wicker cage; +beyond, others, more idle and less enterprising, speared the finny +travellers, thus five hundred miles from home--the brave Pacific. + +Upon the banks the cleaning and curing went on, the women and children +assisting, and as the Indians and half-breeds worked they sang either the +wild Indian melodies, snatches of brave old songs of the 'voyageurs' of a +past century, or hymns taught by the Jesuit missionaries in the persons +of such noble men as Pere Lacombe and Pere Durieu, who have wandered up +and down the vast plains of both sides of the Rockies telling an old +story in a picturesque, heroic way. These old hymns were written in +Chinook, that strange language,--French, English, Spanish, Indian, +arranged by the Hudson's Bay Company, which is, like the wampum-belt, +a common tongue for tribes and peoples not speaking any language but +their own. They were set to old airs--lullabies, chansons, barcarolles, +serenades, taken out of the folk-lore of many lands. Time and again had +these simple arcadian airs been sung as a prelude to some tribal act that +would not bear the search-light of civilisation--little by the Indians +east of the Rockies, for they have hard hearts and fierce tongues, but +much by the Shuswaps, Siwashes, and other tribes of the Pacific slope, +whose natures are for peace more than for war; who, one antique day, +drifted across from Japan or the Corea, and never, even in their wild, +nomadic state, forgot their skill and craft in wood and gold and silver. + +We sat on the shore and watched the scene for a time, saying nothing. +Now and again, as from scaffolding to scaffolding, from boat to boat, and +from house to house, the Chinook song rang and was caught up in a slow +monotone, so not interfering with the toil, there came the sound of an +Indian drum beaten indolently, or the rattle of dry hard sticks--a +fantastic accompaniment. + +"Does it remind you of the South Seas?" I asked Mrs. Falchion, as, with +her chin on her hand, she watched the scene. + +She drew herself up, almost with an effort, as though she had been lost +in thought, and looked at me curiously for a moment. She seemed trying +to call back her mind to consider my question. Presently she answered +me: "Very little. There is something finer, stronger here. The +atmosphere has more nerve, the life more life. This is not a land for +the idle or vicious, pleasant as it is." + +"What a thinker you are, Mrs. Falchion!" + +She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. Her voice took on an +inflection of satire. "You say it with the air of a discoverer. With +Columbus and Hervey and you, the world--" She stopped, laughing softly +at the thrust, and moved the dust about with her foot. + +"In spite of the sarcasm, I am going to add that I feel a personal +satisfaction in your being a woman who does think, and acts more on +thought than impulse." + +"'Personal satisfaction' sounds very royal and august. It is long, +I imagine, since you took a--personal satisfaction--in me." + +I was not to be daunted. "People who think a good deal and live a fresh, +outdoor life--you do that--naturally act most fairly and wisely in time +of difficulty--and contretemps." + +"But I had the impression that you thought I acted unfairly and unwisely +--at such times." + +We had come exactly where I wanted. In our minds we were both looking at +those miserable scenes on the 'Fulvia', when Madras sought to adjust the +accounts of life and sorely muddled them. + +"But," said I, "you are not the same woman that you were." + +"Indeed, Sir Oracle," she answered: "and by what necromancy do you know?" + +"By none. I think you are sorry now--I hope you are--for what--" + +She interrupted me indignantly. "You go too far. You are almost-- +unbearable. You said once that the matter should be buried, and yet here +you work for an opportunity, Heaven knows why, to place me at a +disadvantage!" + +"Pardon me," I answered; "I said that I would never bring up those +wretched scenes unless there was cause. There is cause." + +She got to her feet. "What cause--what possible cause can there be?" + +I met her eye firmly. "I am bound to stand by my friend," I said. +"I can and I will stand by him." + +"If it is a game of drawn swords, beware!" she retorted. "You speak to +me as if I were a common adventuress. You mistake me, and forget that +you--of all men--have little margin of high morality on which to +speculate." + +"No, I do not forget that," I said, "nor do I think of you as an +adventuress. But I am sure you hold a power over my friend, and--" + +She stopped me. "Not one word more on the subject. You are not to +suppose this or that. Be wise do not irritate and annoy a woman like me. +It were better to please me than to preach to me." + +"Mrs. Falchion," I said firmly, "I wish to please you--so well that some +day you will feel that I have been a good friend to you as well as to +him--" + +Again she interrupted me. "You talk in foolish riddles. No good can +come of this." + +"I cannot believe that," I urged; "for when once your heart is moved by +the love of a man, you will be just, and then the memory of another man +who loved you and sinned for you--" + +"Oh, you coward!" she broke out scornfully--"you coward to persist in +this!" + +I made a little motion of apology with my hand, and was silent. I was +satisfied. I felt that I had touched her as no words of mine had ever +touched her before. If she became emotional, was vulnerable in her +feelings, I knew that Roscoe's peace might be assured. That she loved +Roscoe now I was quite certain. Through the mists I could see a way, +even if I failed to find Madras and arrange another surprising situation. +She was breathing hard with excitement. + +Presently she said with incredible quietness, "Do not force me to do hard +things. I have a secret." + +"I have a secret too," I answered. "Let us compromise." + +"I do not fear your secret," she answered. She thought I was referring +to her husband's death. "Well," I replied, "I honestly hope you never +will. That would be a good day for you." + +"Let us go," she said; then, presently: "No, let us sit here and forget +that we have been talking." + +I was satisfied. We sat down. She watched the scene silently, and +I watched her. I felt that it would be my lot to see stranger things +happen to her than I had seen before; but all in a different fashion. +I had more hope for my friend, for Ruth Devlin, for--! + +I then became silent even to myself. The weltering river, the fishers +and their labour and their songs, the tall dark hills, the deep gloomy +pastures, the flaring lights, were then in a dream before me; but I was +thinking, planning. + +As we sat there, we heard noises, not very harmonious, interrupting the +song of the salmon-fishers. We got up to see. A score of river-drivers +were marching down through the village, mocking the fishers and making +wild mirth. The Indians took little notice, but the half-breeds and +white fishers were restless. + +"There will be trouble here one day," said Mrs. Falchion. + +"A free fight which will clear the air," I said. + +"I should like to see it--it would be picturesque, at least," she added +cheerfully; "for I suppose no lives would be lost." + +"One cannot tell," I answered; "lives do not count so much in new lands." + +"Killing is hateful, but I like to see courage." + +And she did see it. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +RIDING THE REEFS + +The next afternoon Roscoe was sitting on the coping deep in thought, when +Ruth rode up with her father, dismounted, and came upon him so quietly +that he did not hear her. I was standing in the trees a little distance +away. + +She spoke to him once, but he did not seem to hear. She touched his arm. +He got to his feet. + +"You were so engaged that you did not hear me," she said. + +"The noise of the rapids!" he answered, after a strange pause, "and your +footstep is very light." + +She leaned her chin on her hand, rested against the rail of the coping, +looked meditatively into the torrent below, and replied: "Is it so +light?" Then after a pause: "You have not asked me how I came, +who came with me, or why I am here." + +"It was first necessary for me to conceive the delightful fact that you +are here," he said in a dazed, and, therefore, not convincing tone. + +She looked him full in the eyes. "Please do not pay me the ill +compliment of a compliment," she said. "Was it the sailor who spoke then +or the--or yourself? It is not like you." + +"I did not mean it as a compliment," he replied. "I was thinking about +critical and important things." + +"'Critical and important' sounds large," she returned. + +"And the awakening was sudden," he continued. "You must make allowance, +please, for--" + +"For the brusque appearance of a very unimaginative, substantial, and +undreamlike person? I do. And now, since you will not put me quite at +my ease by assuming, in words, that I have been properly 'chaperoned' +here, I must inform you that my father waits hard by--is, as my riotous +young brother says, 'without on the mat.'" + +"I am very glad," he replied with more politeness than exactness. + +"That I was duly escorted, or that my father is 'without on the mat'? +. . . However, you do not appear glad one way or the other. And now +I must explain our business. It is to ask your company at dinner (do +consider yourself honoured--actually a formal dinner party in the +Rockies!) to meet the lieutenant-governor, who is coming to see our +famous Viking and Sunburst. . . . But you are expected to go out +where my father feeds his--there, see--his horse on your 'trim parterre.' +And now that I have done my duty as page and messenger without a word of +assistance, Mr. Roscoe, will you go and encourage my father to hope that +you will be vis-a-vis to his excellency?" She lightly beat the air with +her whip, while I took a good look at the charming scene. + +Roscoe looked seriously at the girl for an instant. He understood too +well the source of such gay social banter. He knew it covered a hurt. +He said to her: "Is this Ruth Devlin or another?" + +And she replied very gravely: "It is Ruth Devlin and another too," and +she looked down to the chasm beneath with a peculiar smile; and her eyes +were troubled. + +He left her and went and spoke to her father whom I had joined, but, +after a moment, returned to Ruth. Ruth turned slightly to meet him as he +came. "And is the prestige of the house of Devlin to be supported?" she +said; "and the governor to be entertained with tales of flood and field?" + +His face had now settled into a peculiar calmness. He said with a touch +of mock irony: "The sailor shall play his part--the obedient retainer of +the house of Devlin." + +"Oh," she said, "you are malicious now! You turn your long accomplished +satire on a woman." And she nodded to the hills opposite, as if to tell +them that it was as they had said to her: those grand old hills with +which she had lived since childhood, to whom she had told all that had +ever happened to her. + +"No, indeed no," he replied, "though I am properly rebuked. I fear I am +malicious--just a little, but it is all inner-self-malice: 'Rome turned +upon itself.'" + +"But one cannot always tell when irony is intended for the speaker of it. +Yours did not seem applied to yourself," was her slow answer, and she +seemed more interested in Mount Trinity than in him. + +"No?" Then he said with a playful sadness: "A moment ago you were not +completely innocent of irony, were you?" + +"But a man is big and broad, and should not--he should be magnanimous, +leaving it to woman, whose life is spent among little things, to be +guilty of littlenesses. But see how daring I am--speaking like this to +you who know so much more than I do. . . . Surely, you are still only +humorous, when you speak of irony turned upon yourself--the irony so icy +to your friends?" + +She had developed greatly. Her mind had been sharpened by pain. The +edge of her wit had become poignant, her speech rendered logical and +allusive. Roscoe was wise enough to understand that the change in her +had been achieved by the change in himself; that since Mrs. Falchion +came, Ruth had awakened sharply to a distress not exactly definable. +She felt that though he had never spoken of love to her, she had a right +to share his troubles. The infrequency of his visits to her of late, and +something in his manner, made her uneasy and a little bitter. For there +was an understanding between them, though it had been unspoken and +unwritten. They had vowed without priest or witness. The heart speaks +eloquently in symbols first, and afterwards in stumbling words. + +It seemed to Roscoe at this moment, as it had seemed for some time, that +the words would never be spoken. And was this all that had troubled her +--the belief that Mrs. Falchion had some claim upon his life? Or had she +knowledge, got in some strange way, of that wretched shadow in his past? + +This possibility filled him with bitterness. The old Adam in him awoke, +and he said within himself "God in heaven, must one folly, one sin, kill +me and her too? Why me more than another! . . . And I love her, I +love her!" + +His eyes flamed until their blue looked all black, and his brows grew +straight over them sharply, making his face almost stern. . . . There +came swift visions of renouncing his present life; of going with her-- +anywhere: to tell her all, beg her forgiveness, and begin life over +again, admitting that this attempt at expiation was a mistake; to have +his conscience clear of secret, and trust her kindness. For now he was +sure that Mrs. Falchion meant to make his position as a clergyman +impossible; to revenge herself on him for no wrong that, as far as he +knew, he ever did directly to her. But to tell this girl, or even +her father or mother, that he had been married, after a shameful, +unsanctified fashion, to a savage, with what came after, and the awful +thing that happened--he who ministered at the altar! Now that he looked +the thing in the face it shocked him. No, he could not do it. + +She said to him, while he looked at her as though he would read her +through and through, though his mind was occupied with a dreadful +possibility beyond her: + +"Why do you look so? You are stern. You are critical. Have I-- +disimproved so?" + +The words were full of a sudden and natural womanly fear, that something +in herself had fallen in value. They had a pathos so much the more +moving because she sought to hide it. + +There swam before his eyes the picture of happiness from which she +herself had roused him when she came. He involuntarily, passionately, +caught her hand and pressed it to his lips twice; but spoke nothing. + +"Oh! oh!--please!" she said. Her voice was low and broken, and she +spoke appealingly. Could he not see that he was breaking her heart, +while filling it also with unbearable joy? Why did he not speak and make +this possible, and not leave it a thing to flush her cheeks, and cause +her to feel he had acted on a knowledge he had no right to possess till +he had declared himself in speech? Could he not have spared her that?-- +This Christian gentleman, whose worth had compassed these mountains and +won the dwellers among them--it was bitter. Her pride and injured heart +rose up and choked her. + +He let go her hand. Now his face was partly turned from her, and she saw +how thin and pale it was. She saw, too, what I had seen during the past +week, that his hair had become almost white about the temples; and the +moveless sadness of his position struck her with unnatural force, so +that, in spite of herself, tears came suddenly to her eyes, and a slight +moan broke from her. She would have run away; but it was too late. + +He saw the tears, the look of pity, indignation, pride, and love in her +face. + +"My love!" he cried passionately. He opened his arms to her. + +But she stood still. He came very close to her, spoke quickly, and +almost despairingly: "Ruth, I love you, and I have wronged you; but here +is your place, if you will come." + +At first she seemed stunned, and her face was turned to her mountains, +as though the echo of his words were coming back to her from them, but +the thing crept into her heart and flooded it. She seemed to wake, and +then all her affection carried her into his arms, and she dried her eyes +upon his breast. + +After a time he whispered, "My dear, I have wronged you. I should not +have made you care for me." + +She did not seem to notice that he spoke of wrong. She said: "I was +yours, Galt, even from the beginning, I think, though I did not quite +know it. I remember what you read in church the first Sunday you came, +and it has always helped me; for I wanted to be good." + +She paused and raised her eyes to his, and then with sweet solemnity she +said: "The words were: + + "'The Lord God is my strength, and He will make my feet like hinds' + feet, and He will make me to walk upon mine high places.'" + +"Ruth," he answered, "you have always walked on the high places. You +have never failed. And you are as safe as the nest of the eagle, a noble +work of God." + +"No, I am not noble; but I should like to be so. Most women like +goodness. It is instinct with us, I suppose. We had rather be good than +evil, and when we love we can do good things; but we quiver like the +compass-needle between two poles. Oh, believe me! we are weak; but we +are loving." + +"Your worst, Ruth, is as much higher than my best as the heaven is--" + +"Galt, you hurt my fingers!" she interrupted. + +He had not noticed the almost fierce strength of his clasp. But his life +was desperately hungry for her. "Forgive me, dearest.--As I said, better +than my best; for, Ruth, my life was--wicked, long ago. You cannot +understand how wicked!" + +"You are a clergyman and a good man," she said, with pathetic negation. + +"You give me a heart unsoiled, unspotted of the world. I have been in +some ways worse than the worst men in the valley there below." + +"Galt, Galt, you shock me!" she said. + +"Why did I speak? Why did I kiss your hand as I did? Because at the +moment it was the only honest thing to do; because it was due you that I +should say: 'Ruth, I love you, love you so much'"--here she nestled close +to him--"'so well, that everything else in life is as nothing beside it +--nothing! so well that I could not let you share my wretchedness.'" + +She ran her hand along his breast and looked up at him with swimming +eyes. + +"And you think that this is fair to me? that a woman gives the heart for +pleasant weather only? I do not know what your sorrow may be, but it is +my right to share it. I am only a woman; but a woman can be strong for +those she loves. Remember that I have always had to care for others-- +always; and I can bear much. I will not ask what your trouble is, I only +ask you"--here she spoke slowly and earnestly, and rested her hand on his +shoulder--"to say to me that you love no other woman; and that--that no +other woman has a claim upon you. Then I shall be content to pity you, +to help you, to love you. God gives women many pains, but none so great +as the love that will not trust utterly; for trust is our bread of life. +Yes, indeed, indeed!" + +"I dare not say," he said, "that it is your misfortune to love me, for in +this you show how noble a woman can be. But I will say that the cup is +bitter-sweet for you. . . . I cannot tell you now what my trouble is; +but I can say that no other living woman has a claim upon me. . . . +My reckoning is with the dead." + +"That is with God," she whispered, "and He is just and merciful too. . . . +Can it not be repaired here?" She smoothed back his hair, then let her +fingers stray lightly on his cheek. + +It hurt him like death to reply. "No, but there can be punishment here." + +She shuddered slightly. "Punishment, punishment," she repeated +fearfully--"what punishment?" + +"I do not quite know." Lines of pain grew deeper in his face. . . . +"Ruth, how much can a woman forgive?" + +"A mother, everything." But she would say no more. He looked at her +long and earnestly, and said at last: "Will you believe in me no matter +what happens?" + +"Always, always." Her smile was most winning. + +"If things should appear dark against me?" + +"Yes, if you give me your word." + +"If I said to you that I did a wrong; that I broke the law of God, though +not the laws of man?" + +There was a pause in which she drew back, trembling slightly, and looked +at him timidly and then steadily, but immediately put her hands bravely +in his, and said: "Yes." + +"I did not break the laws of man." + +"It was when you were in the navy?" she inquired, in an awe-stricken +tone. + +"Yes, years ago." + +"I know. I feel it. You must not tell me. It was a woman, and this +other woman, this Mrs. Falchion knows, and she would try to ruin you, +or"--here she seemed to be moved suddenly by a new thought--"or have you +love her. But she shall not, she shall not--neither! For I will love +you, and God will listen to me, and answer me." + +"Would to Heaven I were worthy of you! I dare not think of where you +might be called to follow me, Ruth." + +"'Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: +thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God,'" she rejoined in a +low voice. + +"'Thy God my God!'" he repeated after her slowly. He suddenly wondered +if his God was her God; whether now, in his trouble, he had that comfort +which his creed and profession should give him. For the first time he +felt acutely that his choice of this new life might have been more a +reaction from the past, a desire for expiation, than radical belief that +this was the right and only thing for him to do. And when, some time +after, he bade Ruth good-bye, as she went with her father, it came to him +with appalling conviction that his life had been a mistake. The twist of +a great wrong in a man's character distorts his vision; and if he has a +tender conscience he magnifies his misdeeds. + +In silence Roscoe and I watched the two ride down the slope. I guessed +what had happened: afterwards I was told all. I was glad of it, though +the end was not yet promising. When we turned to go towards the house +again, a man lounged out of the trees towards us. He looked at me, then +at Roscoe, and said: + +"I'm Phil Boldrick's pal from Danger Mountain." Roscoe held out his +hand, and the man took it, saying: "You're The Padre, I suppose, and Phil +was soft on you. Didn't turn religious, did he? He always had a streak +of God A'mighty in him; a kind of give-away-the-top-of-your-head chap; +friend o' the widow and the orphan, and divvy to his last crust with a +pal. I got your letter, and come over here straight to see that he's +been tombed accordin' to his virtues; to lay out the dollars he left me +on the people he had on his visitin' list; no loafers, no gophers, not +one; but to them that stayed by him I stay, while prog and liquor last." + +I saw Roscoe looking at him in an abstracted way, and, as he did not +reply, I said: "Phil had many friends and no enemies." Then I told him +the tale of his death and funeral, and how the valley mourned for him. + +While I spoke he stood leaning against a tree, shaking his head and +listening, his eyes occasionally resting on Roscoe with a look as +abstracted and puzzled as that on Roscoe's face. When I had finished he +drew his hand slowly down his beard and a thick sound came from behind +his fingers. But he did not speak. + +Then I suggested quietly that Phil's dollars could be put to a better use +than for prog and liquor. + +He did not reply to this at all; but after a moment's pause, in which he +seemed to be studying the gambols of a squirrel in a pine tree, he rubbed +his chin nervously, and more in soliloquy than conversation said: "I +never had but two pals that was pals through and through. And one was +Phil and the other was Jo--Jo Brackenbury." + +Here Roscoe's hand, which had been picking at the bark of a poplar, +twitched suddenly. + +The man continued: "Poor Jo went down in the 'Fly Away' when she swung +with her bare ribs flat before the wind, and swamped and tore upon the +bloody reefs at Apia. . . . God, how they gnawed her! And never a +rag holdin' nor a stick standin', and her pretty figger broke like a tin +whistle in a Corliss engine. And Jo Brackenbury, the dandiest rip, the +noisiest pal that ever said 'Here's how!' went out to heaven on a tearing +sea." + +"Jo Brackenbury--" Roscoe repeated musingly. His head was turned away +from us. + +"Yes, Jo Brackenbury; and Captain Falchion said to me" (I wonder that I +did not start then) "when I told him how the 'Fly Away' went down to Davy, +and her lovers went aloft, reefed close afore the wind--'Then,' says he, +'they've got a damned sound seaman on the Jordan, and so help me! him +that's good enough to row my girl from open sea, gales poundin' and +breakers showin' teeth across the bar to Maita Point, is good enough for +use where seas is still and reefs ain't fashionable.'" + +Roscoe's face looked haggard as it now turned towards us. "If you will +meet me," he said to the stranger, "to-morrow morning, in Mr. Devlin's +office at Viking, I will hand you over Phil Boldrick's legacy." + +The man made as if he would shake hands with Roscoe, who appeared not to +notice the motion, and then said: "I'll be there. You can bank on that; +and, as we used to say down in the Spicy Isles, where neither of you have +been, I s'pose, Talofa!" + +He swung away down the hillside. + +Roscoe turned to me. "You see, Marmion, all things circle to a centre. +The trail seems long, but the fox gets killed an arm's length from his +hole." + +"Not always. You take it too seriously," I said. "You are no fox." + +"That man will be in at the death," he persisted. + +"Nonsense, Roscoe. He does not know you. What has he to do with you? +This is overwrought nerves. You are killing yourself with worry." + +He was motionless and silent for a minute. Then he said very quietly: +"No, I do not think that I really worry now. I have known"--here he laid +his hand upon my shoulder and his eyes had a shining look--"what it is to +be happy, unspeakably happy, for a moment; and that stays with me. I am +a coward no longer." + +He drew his finger tips slowly across his forehead. Then he continued: +"To-morrow I shall be angry with myself, no doubt, for having that +moment's joy, but I cannot feel so now. I shall probably condemn myself +for cruel selfishness; but I have touched life's highest point this +afternoon, Marmion." + +I drew his hand down from my shoulder and pressed it. It was cold. +He withdrew his eyes from the mountain, and said: "I have had dreams, +Marmion, and they are over. I lived in one: to expiate--to wipe out-- +a past, by spending my life for others. The expiation is not enough. +I lived in another: to win a woman's love; and I have, and was caught up +by it for a moment, and it was wonderful. But it is over now, quite +over. . . . And now for her sake renunciation must be made, before +I have another dream--a long one, Marmion." + +I had forebodings, but I pulled myself together and said firmly: "Roscoe, +these are fancies. Stop it, man. You are moody. Come, let us walk, and +talk of other things." + +"No, we will not walk," he said, "but let us sit there on the coping and +be quiet--quiet in that roar between the hills." Suddenly he swung +round, caught me by the shoulders and held me gently so. + +"I have a pain at my heart, Marmion, as if I'd heard my death sentence; +such as a soldier feels who knows that Death looks out at him from iron +eyes. You smile: I suppose you think I am mad." + +I saw that it was best to let him speak his mind. So I answered: "Not +mad, my friend. Say on what you like. Tell me all you feel. Only, for +God's sake be brave, and don't give up until there's occasion. I am sure +you exaggerate your danger, whatever it is." + +"Listen for a minute," said he: "I had a brother Edward, as good a lad +as ever was; a boisterous, healthy fellow. We had an old nurse in our +family who came from Irish hills, faithful and kind to us both. There +came a change over Edward. He appeared not to take the same interest in +his sports. One day he came to me, looking a bit pale, and said: 'Galt, +I think I should like to study for the Church.' I laughed at it, yet it +troubled me in a way, for I saw he was not well. I told Martha, the +nurse. She shook her head sadly, and said: 'Edward is not for the +Church, but you, my lad. He is for heaven.' + +"'For heaven, Martha?' laughed I. + +"'In truth for heaven,' she replied, 'and that soon. The look of his eye +is doom. I've seen it since I swaddled him, and he will go suddenly.' + +"I was angry, and I said to her,--though she thought she spoke the +truth,--'This is only Irish croaking. We'll have the banshee next.' + +"She got up from her chair and answered me solemnly: 'Galt Roscoe, I HAVE +heard the banshee wail, and sorrow falls upon your home. And don't you +be so hard with me that have loved you, and who suffers for the lad that +often and often lay upon my breast. Don't be so hard; for your day of +trouble comes too. You, not he, will be priest at the altar. Death will +come to him like a swift and easy sleep; but you will feel its hand upon +your heart and know its hate for many a day, and bear the slow pangs of +it until your life is all crushed, and you go from the world alone, Love +crying after you and not able to save you, not even the love of woman-- +weaker than death. . . . And, in my grave, when that day comes beside +a great mountain in a strange land, I will weep and pray for you; for I +was mother to you too, when yours left you alone bewhiles, never, in this +world, to come back.' + +"And, Marmion, that night towards morning, as I lay in the same room with +Edward, I heard his breath stop sharply. I jumped up and drew aside the +curtains to let in the light, and then I knew that the old woman spoke +true. . . . And now! . . . Well, I am like Hamlet--and I can say +with him: 'But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart +--but it is no matter!"' . . . . + +I tried to laugh and talk away his brooding, but there was little use, +his convictions were so strong. Besides, what can you do with a +morbidness which has its origin in fateful circumstances? + +I devoutly wished that a telegram would come from Winnipeg to let me know +if Boyd Madras, under his new name, could be found. I was a hunter on a +faint trail. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE STRINGS OF DESTINY + +When Phil's pal left us he went wandering down the hillside, talking to +himself. Long afterwards he told me how he felt, and I reproduce his +phrases as nearly as I can. + +"Knocked 'em, I guess," he said, "with that about Jo Brackenbury. . . . +Poor Jo! Stuck together, him and me did, after she got the steel in her +heart." . . . He pulled himself together, shuddering. . . . "Went +back on me, she did, and took up with a cursed swell, and got it cold-- +cold. And I? By Judas! I never was shut of that. I've known women, +many of 'em, all countries, but she was different. I expect now, after +all these years, that if I got my hand on the devil that done for her, +I'd rattle his breath in his throat. There's things that clings. She +clings, Jo Brackenbury clings, and Phil Boldrick clings; and they're +gone, and I'm left to go it alone. To play the single hand--what!--by +Jiminy!" + +He exclaimed thus on seeing two women approach from the direction of the +valley. He stood still, mouth open, staring. They drew near, almost +passed him. But one of them, struck by his intense gaze, suddenly turned +and came towards him. + +"Miss Falchion! Miss Falchion!" he cried. Then, when she hesitated as +if with an effort of memory, he added: "Don't you know me?" + +"Ah," she replied abruptly, "Sam Kilby! Are you Sam Kilby, Jo +Brackenbury's friend, from Samoa?" + +"Yes, miss, I'm Jo Brackenbury's friend; and I've rowed you across the +reefs with him more than once I guess so! But it's a long way from Apia +to the Rockies, and it's funny to meet here." + +"When did you come here--and from where?" + +"I come to-day from the Hudson's Bay post at Danger Mountain. I'm Phil +Boldrick's pal." + +"Ah," she said again, with a look in her eyes not pleasant to see, "and +what brings you up here in the hills?" Hers was more than an ordinary +curiosity. + +"I come to see the Padre who was with Phil--when he left. And the +Padre's a fair square sort, as I reckon him, but melancholy, almighty +melancholy." + +"Yes, melancholy, I suppose," she said, "and fair square, as you say. +And what did you say and do?" + +"Why, we yarned about Phil, and where I'd get the legacy to-morrow; and +I s'pose I had a strong breeze on the quarter, for I talked as free as if +we'd grubbed out of the same dough-pan since we was kiddies." + +"Yes?" + +"Yes siree; I don't know how it was, but I got to reelin' off about Jo-- +queer, wasn't it? And I told 'em how he went down in the 'Fly Away', and +how the lovely ladies--you remember how we used to call the whitecaps +lovely ladies--fondled him out to sea and on to heaven." + +"And what did--the Padre--think of that?" + +"Well, he's got a heart, I should say, and that's why Phil cottoned to +him, maybe,--for he looked as if he'd seen ghosts. I guess he'd never +had a craft runnin' 'tween a sand-bar and a ragged coral bank; nor seen a +girl like the 'Fly Away' take a buster in her teeth; nor a man-of-war +come bundlin' down upon a nasty glacis, the captain on the bridge, +engines goin' for all they're worth, every man below battened in, and +every Jack above watchin' the fight between the engines and the +hurricane. . . . Here she rolls six fathoms from the glacis that'll +rip her copper garments off, and the quiverin' engines pull her back; and +she swings and struggles and trembles between hell in the hurricane and +God A'mighty in the engines; till at last she gets her nose at the neck +of the open sea and crawls out safe and sound. . . . I guess he'd +have more marble in his cheeks, if he saw likes o' that, Miss Falchion?" + +Kilby paused and wiped his forehead. + +She had listened calmly. She did not answer his question. She said: +"Kilby, I am staying at the summer hotel up there. Will you call on me-- +let me see . . . . say, to-morrow afternoon?--Some one will tell you the +way, if you do not know it. . . . Ask for MRS. Falchion, Kilby, not +Miss Falchion. . . . You will come?" + +"Why, yes," he replied, "you can count on me; for I'd like to hear of +things that happened after I left Apia--and how it is that you are Mrs. +Falchion, for that's mighty queer." + +"You shall hear all that and more." She held out her hand to him and +smiled. He took it, and she knew that now she was gathering up the +strings of destiny. + +They parted. + +The two passed on, looking, in their cool elegance, as if life were the +most pleasant thing; as though the very perfume of their garments would +preserve them from that plague called trouble. + +"Justine," said Mrs. Falchion, "there is one law stranger than all; the +law of coincidence. Perhaps the convenience of modern travel assists it, +but fate is in it also. Events run in circles. People connected with +them travel that way also. We pass and re-pass each other many times, +but on different paths, until we come close and see each other face to +face." + +She was speaking almost the very words which Roscoe had spoken to me. +But perhaps there was nothing strange in that. + +"Yes, madame," replied Justine; "it is so, but there is a law greater +than coincidence." + +"What, Justine?" + +"The law of love, which is just and merciful, and would give peace +instead of trouble." + +Mrs. Falchion looked closely at Justine, and, after a moment, evidently +satisfied, said: "What do you know of love?" + +Justine tried hard for composure, and answered gently: "I loved my +brother Hector." + +"And did it make you just and merciful and--an angel?" + +"Madame, you could answer that better. But it has not made me be at war; +it has made me patient." + +"Your love--for your brother--has made you that?" Again she looked +keenly, but Justine now showed nothing but earnestness. + +"Yes, madame." + +Mrs. Falchion paused for a moment, and seemed intent on the beauty of the +pine-belted hills, capped by snowy peaks, and wrapped in a most hearty +yet delicate colour. The red of her parasol threw a warm soft ness upon +her face. She spoke now without looking at Justine. + +"Justine, did you ever love any one besides your brother?--I mean another +man." + +Justine was silent for a moment, and then she said: "Yes, once." She was +looking at the hills now, and Mrs. Falchion at her. + +"And you were happy?" Here Mrs. Falchion abstractedly toyed with a piece +of lace on Justine's arm. Such acts were unusual with her. + +"I was happy--in loving." + +"Why did you not marry?" + +"Madame--it was impossible--quite." This, with hesitation and the +slightest accent of pain. + +"Why impossible? You have good looks, you were born a lady; you have a +foolish heart--the fond are foolish." She watched the girl keenly, the +hand ceased to toy with the lace, and caught the arm itself--"Why +impossible?" + +"Madame, he did not love me, he never could." + +"Did he know of your love?" + +"Oh no, no!" This with trouble in her voice. + +"And you have never forgotten?" + +The catechism was merciless; but Mrs. Falchion was not merely malicious. +She was inquiring of a thing infinitely important to her. She was +searching the heart of another, not only because she was suspicious, but +because she wanted to know herself better. + +"It is easy to remember." + +"Is it long since you saw him?" + +The question almost carried terror with it, for she was not quite sure +why Mrs. Falchion questioned her. She lifted her eyes slowly, and there +was in them anxiety and joy. "It seems," she said, "like years." + +"He loves some one else, perhaps?" + +"Yes, I think so, madame." + +"Did you hate her?" + +"Oh no; I am glad for him." + +Here Mrs. Falchion spoke sharply, almost bitterly. Even through her soft +colour a hardness appeared. "You are glad for him? You would see +another woman in his arms and not be full of anger?" + +"Quite." + +"Justine, you are a fool." + +"Madame, there is no commandment against being a fool." + +"Oh, you make me angry with your meekness!" Here Mrs. Falchion caught a +twig from a tree by her, snapped it in her fingers, and petulantly threw +its pieces to the ground. "Suppose that the man had once loved you, and +afterwards loved another--then again another?" + +"Madame, that would be my great misfortune, but it might be no wrong in +him." + +"How not a wrong in him?" + +"It may have been my fault. There must be love in both--great love, for +it to last." + +"And if the woman loved him not at all?" + +"Where, then, could be the wrong in him?" + +"And if he went from you,"--here her voice grew dry and her words were +sharp,--"and took a woman from the depths of--oh, no matter what! and +made her commit--crime--and was himself a criminal?" + +"It is horrible to think of; but I should ask myself how much I was to +blame. . . . What would you ask yourself, madame?" + +"You have a strain of the angel in you, Justine. You would forgive Judas +if he said, 'Peccavi.' I have a strain of Satan--it was born in me-- +I would say, You have sinned, now suffer." + +"God give you a softer heart," said Justine, with tender boldness and +sincerity. + +At this Mrs. Falchion started slightly, and trouble covered her face. +She assumed, however, a tone almost brusque, artificially airy and +unimportant. + +"There, that will do, thank you. . . . We have become serious and +incomprehensible. Let us talk of other things. I want to be gay. . . . +Amuse me." + +Arrived at the hotel, she told Justine that she must not be disturbed +till near dinner-time, and withdrew to her sitting-room. There she sat +and thought, as she had never done in her life before. She thought upon +everything that had happened since the day when she met Galt Roscoe on +the 'Fulvia'; of a certain evening in England, before he took orders, +when he told her, in retort to some peculiarly cutting remark of hers, +that she was the evil genius of his life: that evening when her heart +grew hard, as she had once said it should always be to him, and she +determined again, after faltering many times, that just such a genius she +would be; of the strange meeting in the rapids at the Devil's Slide, and +the irony of it; and the fact that he had saved her life--on that she +paused a while; of Ruth Devlin--and here she was swayed by conflicting +emotions; of the scene at the mill, and Phil Boldrick's death and +funeral; of the service in the church where she meant to mock him, and, +instead, mocked herself; of the meeting with Tonga Sam; of all that +Justine had said to her: then again of the far past in Samoa, with which +Galt Roscoe was associated, and of that first vow of vengeance for a +thing he had done; and how she had hesitated to fulfil it year after year +till now. + +Passing herself slowly back and forth before her eyes, she saw that she +had lived her life almost wholly alone; that no woman had ever cherished +her as a friend, and that on no man's breast had she ever laid her head +in trust and love. She had been loved, but it had never brought her +satisfaction. From Justine there was devotion; but it had, as she +thought, been purchased, paid for, like the labour of a ploughboy. And +if she saw now in Justine's eyes a look of friendship, a note of personal +allegiance, she knew it was because she herself had grown more human. + +Her nature had been stirred. Her natural heart was struggling against +her old bitterness towards Galt Roscoe and her partial hate of Ruth +Devlin. Once Roscoe had loved her, and she had not loved him. Then, on +a bitter day for him, he did a mad thing. The thing became--though +neither of them knew it at the time, and he not yet--a great injury to +her, and this had called for the sharp retaliation which she had the +power to use. But all had not happened as she expected; for something +called Love had been conceived in her very slowly, and was now being +born, and sent, trembling for its timid life, into the world. + +She closed her eyes with weariness, and pressed her hands to her temples. + +She wondered why she could not be all evil or all good. She spoke and +acted against Ruth Devlin, and yet she pitied her. She had the nettle to +sting Roscoe to death, and yet she hesitated to use it. She had said to +herself that she would wait till the happiest moment of his life, and +then do so. Well, his happiest moment had come. Ruth Devlin's heart was +all out, all blossomed--beside Mrs. Falchion's like some wild flower to +the aloe. . . . Only now she had come to know that she had a heart. +Something had chilled her at her birth, and when her mother died, a +stranger's kiss closed up all the ways to love, and left her an icicle. +She was twenty-eight years old, and yet she had never kissed a face in +joy or to give joy. And now, when she had come to know herself, and +understand what others understand when they are little children in their +mother's arms, she had to bow to the spirit that denies. She drew +herself up with a quiver of the body. + +"O God!" she said, "do I hate him or love him!" Her head dropped in her +hands. She sat regardless of time, now scarcely stirring, desperately +quiet. The door opened softly and Justine entered. "Madame," she said, +"pardon me; I am so sorry, but Miss Devlin has come to see you, and I +thought--" + +"You thought, Justine, that I would see her." There was unmistakable +irony in her voice. "Very well. . . . Show her in." + +She rose, stretched out her arms as if to free herself of a burden, +smoothed her hair, composed herself, and waited, the afternoon sun just +falling across her burnished shoes, giving her feet of gold. She chanced +to look down at them. A strange memory came to her: words that she had +heard Roscoe read in church. The thing was almost grotesque in its +association. "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who +bringeth glad tidings, who publisheth peace!" + +Ruth Devlin entered, saying, "I have come, to ask you if you will dine +with us next Monday evening?" + +Then she explained the occasion of the dinner party, and said: "You see, +though it is formal, I am asking our guests informally;" and she added as +neutrally and as lightly as she could--"Mr. Roscoe and Dr. Marmion have +been good enough to say that they will come. Of course, a dinner party +as it should be is quite impossible to us simple folk, but when a +lieutenant-governor commands, we must do the best we can--with the +help of our friends." + +Mrs. Falchion was delighted, she said, and then they talked of trivial +matters, Ruth smoothing out the folds of her riding-dress with her whip +more earnestly, in preoccupation, than the act called for. At last she +said, in the course of the formal talk: "You have travelled much?" + +"Yes, that has been my lot," was the reply; and she leaned back in the +gold-trimmed cane chair, her feet still in the belt of sunlight. + +"I have often wished that I might travel over the ocean," said Ruth, "but +here I remain--what shall I say?--a rustic in a bandbox, seeing the world +through a pin-hole. That is the way my father puts it. Except, of +course, that I think it very inspiring to live out here among wonderful +mountains, which, as Mr. Roscoe says, are the most aristocratic of +companions." + +Some one in the next room was playing the piano idly yet expressively. +The notes of Il Trovatore kept up a continuous accompaniment to their +talk, varying, as if by design, with its meaning and importance, and yet +in singular contrast at times to their thoughts and words. It was almost +sardonic in its monotonous persistence. + +"Travel is not all, believe me, Miss Devlin," was the indolent reply. +"Perhaps the simpler life is the happier. The bandbox is not the worst +that may come to one--when one is born to it. I am not sure but it is +the best. I doubt that when one has had the fever of travel and the +world, the bandbox is permanently habitable again." + +Mrs. Falchion was keen; she had found her opportunity. + +On the result of this duel, if Ruth Devlin but knew it, depends her own +and another's happiness. It is not improbable, however, that something +of this was in her mind. She shifted her chair so that her face was not +so much in the light. But the belt of sunlight was broadening from Mrs. +Falchion's feet to her dress. + +"You think not?" Ruth asked slowly. + +The reply was not important in tone. Mrs. Falchion had picked up a paper +knife and was bending it to and fro between her fingers. + +"I think not. Particularly with a man, who is, we will say, by nature, +adventurous and explorative. I think if, in some mad moment, I +determined to write a novel, it should be of such a man. He flies wide +and far; he sees all; he feeds on novelty; he passes from experience to +experience--liberal pleasures of mind and sense all the way. Well, he +tires of Egypt and its flesh-pots. He has seen as he hurried on--I hope +I am not growing too picturesque--too much of women, too many men. He +has been unwise--most men are. Perhaps he has been more than unwise; +he has made a great mistake, a social mistake--or crime--less or more. +If it is a small one, the remedy is not so difficult. Money, friends, +adroitness, absence, long retirement, are enough. If a great one, and he +is sensitive--and sated--he flies, he seeks seclusion. He is afflicted +with remorse. He is open to the convincing pleasures of the simple and +unadorned life; he is satisfied with simple people. The snuff of the +burnt candle of enjoyment he calls regret, repentance. He gives himself +the delights of introspection, and wishes he were a child again--yes, +indeed it is so, dear Miss Devlin." + +Ruth sat regarding her, her deep eyes glowing. Mrs. Falchion +continued: "In short, he finds the bandbox, as you call it, suited to his +renunciations. Its simplicities, which he thinks is regeneration, are +only new sensations. But--you have often noticed the signification of +a 'but,'" she added, smiling, tapping her cheek lightly with the ivory +knife--"but the hour arrives when the bandbox becomes a prison, when the +simple hours cloy. Then the ordinary incident is merely gauche, and +expiation a bore. + +"I see by your face that you understand quite what I mean. . . . +Well, these things occasionally happen. The great mistake follows the +man, and, by a greater misery, breaks the misery of the bandbox; or the +man himself, hating his captivity, becomes reckless, does some mad thing, +and has a miserable end. Or again, some one who holds the key to his +mistake comes in from the world he has left, and considers--considers, +you understand!--whether to leave him to work out his servitude, or, +mercifully--if he is not altogether blind--permit him the means of escape +to his old world, to the life to which he was born--away from the bandbox +and all therein. . . . I hope I have not tired you--I am sure I have." + +Ruth saw the full meaning of Mrs. Falchion's words. She realised that +her happiness, his happiness--everything--was at stake. All Mrs. +Falchion's old self was battling with her new self. She had determined +to abide by the result of this meeting. She had spoken in a half gay +tone, but her words were not everything; the woman herself was there, +speaking in every feature and glance. Ruth had listened with an +occasional change of colour, but also with an outward pride to which she +seemed suddenly to have grown. But her heart was sick and miserable. +How could it be otherwise, reading, as she did, the tale just told her in +a kind, of allegory, in all its warning, nakedness, and vengeance? But +she detected, too, an occasional painful movement of Mrs. Falchion's +lips, a kind of trouble in the face. She noticed it at first vaguely +as she listened to the music in the other room; but at length she +interpreted it aright, and she did not despair. She did not then follow +her first impulse to show that she saw the real meaning of that speech, +and rise and say, "You are insulting," and bid her good-day. + +After all, where was the ground for the charge of insult? The words had +been spoken impersonally. So, after a moment, she said, as she drew a +glove from a hand slightly trembling: "And you honestly think it is the +case: that one having lived such a life as you describe so unusually, +would never be satisfied with a simple life?" + +"My dear, never--not such a man as I describe. I know the world." + +"But suppose not quite such an one; suppose one that had not been so-- +intense; so much the social gladiator; who had business of life as well," +--here the girl grew pale, for this was a kind of talk unfamiliar and +painful to her, but to be endured for her cause,--"as well as 'the flesh- +pots of Egypt;' who had made no wicked mistakes--would he necessarily end +as you say?" + +"I am speaking of the kind of man who had made such mistakes, and he +would end as I say. Few men, if any, would leave the world for--the +bandbox, shall I still say? without having a Nemesis." + +"But the Nemesis need not, as you say yourself, be inevitable. The +person who holds the key of his life, the impersonation of his mistake--" + +"His CRIMINAL mistake," Mrs. Falchion interrupted, her hand with the +ivory knife now moveless in that belt of sunlight across her knees. + +"His criminal mistake," Ruth repeated, wincing--"might not it become +changed into mercy, and the man be safe?" + +"Safe? Perhaps. But he would tire of the pin-hole just the same. . . . +My dear, you do not know life." + +"But, Mrs. Falchion," said the girl, now very bravely, "I know the +crude elements of justice. That is one plain thing taught here in the +mountains. We have swift reward and punishment--no hateful things called +Nemesis. The meanest wretch here in the West, if he has a quarrel, +avenges himself openly and at once. Actions are rough and ready, +perhaps, but that is our simple way. Hate is manly--and womanly too-- +when it is open and brave. But when it haunts and shadows, it is not +understood here." + +Mrs. Falchion sat during this speech, the fingers of one hand idly +drumming the arm of her chair, as idly as when on board the 'Fulvia' she +listened to me telling that story of Anson and his wife. Outwardly her +coolness was remarkable. But she was really admiring, and amazed at +Ruth's adroitness and courage. She appreciated fully the skilful duel +that had kept things on the surface, and had committed neither of them +to anything personal. It was a battle--the tragical battle of a drawing- +room. + +When Ruth had ended, she said slowly: "You speak very earnestly. You do +your mountains justice; but each world has its code. It is good for some +men to be followed by a slow hatred--it all depends on themselves. There +are some who wish to meet their fate and its worst, and others who would +forget it. The latter are in the most danger always." + +Ruth rose. + +She stepped forward slightly, so that her feet also were within the +sunlight. The other saw this; it appeared to interest her. Ruth looked +--as such a girl can look--with incredible sincerity into Mrs. Falchion's +eyes, and said: "Oh, if I knew such a man, I would be sorry--sorry for +him; and if I also knew that his was only a mistake and not a crime, or, +if the crime itself had been repented of, and atonement made, I would beg +some one--some one better than I--to pray for him. And I would go to the +person who had his life and career at disposal, and would say to her, if +it were a woman, oh, remember that it is not he alone who would suffer! +I would beg that woman--if it were a woman--to be merciful, as she one +day must ask for mercy." + +The girl as she stood there, all pale, yet glowing with the white light +of her pain, was beautiful, noble, compelling. Mrs. Falchion now rose +also. She was altogether in the sunlight now. From the piano in the +next room came a quick change of accompaniment, and a voice was heard +singing, as if to the singer's self, 'Il balen del suo sorris'. It is +hard to tell how far such little incidents affected her in what she did +that afternoon; but they had their influence. She said: "You are +altruistic--or are you selfish, or both? . . . And should the woman +--if it were a woman--yield, and spare the man, what would you do?" + +"I would say that she had been merciful and kind, and that one in this +world would pray for her when she needed prayers most." + +"You mean when she was old,"--Mrs. Falchion shrank a little at the sound +of her own words. Now her careless abandon was gone; she seemed to be +following her emotions. "When she was old," she continued, "and came to +die? It is horrible to grow old, except one has been a saint--and a +mother. . . . And even then--have you ever seen them, the women of +that Egypt of which we spoke--powdered, smirking over their champagne, +because they feel for an instant a false pulse of their past?--See how +eloquent your mountains make me!--I think that would make one hard and +cruel; and one would need the prayers of a churchful of good women, even +as good--as you." + +She could not resist a touch of irony in the last words, and Ruth, who +had been ready to take her hand impulsively, was stung. But she replied +nothing; and the other, after waiting, added, with a sudden and wonderful +kindness: "I say what is quite true. Women might dislike you--many of +them would--though you could not understand why; but you are good, and +that, I suppose, is the best thing in the world. Yes, you are good," she +said musingly, and then she leaned forward and quickly kissed the girl's +cheek. "Good-bye," she said, and then she turned her head resolutely +away. + +They stood there both in the sunlight, both very quiet, but their +hearts were throbbing with new sensations. Ruth knew that she had +conquered, and, with her eyes all tearful, she looked steadily, +yearningly at the woman before her; but she knew it was better she should +say little now, and, with a motion of the hand in good-bye,--she could do +no more,--she slowly went to the door. There she paused and looked back, +but the other was still turned away. + +For a minute Mrs. Falchion stood looking at the door through which the +girl had passed, then she caught close the curtains of the window, and +threw herself upon the sofa with a sobbing laugh. + +"To her--I played the game of mercy to her!" she cried. "And she has his +love, the love which I rejected once, and which I want now--to my shame! +A hateful and terrible love. I, who ought to say to him, as I so long +determined: 'You shall be destroyed. You killed my sister, poor Alo; if +not with a knife yourself you killed her heart, and that is just the +same.' I never knew until now what a heart is when killed." + +She caught her breast as though it hurt her, and, after a moment, +continued: "Do hearts always ache so when they love? I was the wife of a +good man oh! he WAS a good man, who sinned for me. I see it now!--and I +let him die--die alone!" She shuddered. "Oh, now I see, and I know what +love such as his can be! I am punished--punished! for my love is +impossible, horrible." + +There was a long silence, in which she sat looking at the floor, her face +all grey with pain. At last the door of the room softly opened, and +Justine entered. + +"May I come in, madame?" she said. + +"Yes, come, Justine." The voice was subdued, and there was in it what +drew the girl swiftly to the side of Mrs. Falchion. She spoke no word, +but gently undid the other's hair, and smoothed and brushed it softly. + +At last Mrs. Falchion said: "Justine, on Monday we will leave here." + +The girl was surprised, but she replied without comment: "Yes, madame; +where do we go?" + +There was a pause; then: "I do not know. I want to go where I shall get +rested. A village in Italy or--" she paused. + +"Or France, madame?" Justine was eager. + +Mrs. Falchion made a gesture of helplessness. "Yes, France will do. . . . +The way around the world is long, and I am tired." Minutes passed, and +then she slowly said: "Justine, we will go to-morrow night." + +"Yes, madame, to-morrow night--and not next Monday." + +There was a strange only half-veiled melancholy in Mrs. Falchion's next +words: "Do you think, Justine, that I could be happy anywhere?" + +"I think anywhere but here, madame." + +Mrs. Falchion rose to a sitting posture, and looked at the girl fixedly, +almost fiercely. A crisis was at hand. The pity, gentleness, and honest +solicitude of Justine's face conquered her, and her look changed to one +of understanding and longing for companionship: sorrow swiftly welded +their friendship. + +Before Mrs. Falchion slept that night, she said again: "We will leave +here to-morrow, Justine, for ever." + +And Justine replied: "Yes, madame, for ever." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE SENTENCE + +The next morning Roscoe was quiet and calm, but he looked ten years older +than when I had first seen him. After breakfast he said to me: "I have +to go to the valley to pay Phil Boldrick's friend the money, and to see +Mr. Devlin. I shall be back, perhaps, by lunchtime. Will you go with +me, or stay here?" + +"I shall try to get some fishing this morning, I fancy," I said. +"And possibly I shall idle a good deal, for my time with you here is +shortening, and I want to have a great store of laziness behind me for +memory, when I've got my nose to the grindstone." + +He turned to the door, and said: "Marmion, I wish you weren't going. I +wish that we might be comrades under the same roof till--" He paused and +smiled strangely. + +"Till the finish," I added, "when we should amble grey-headed, sans +everything, out of the mad old world? I imagine Miss Belle Treherne +would scarcely fancy that. . . . Still, we can be friends just the +same. Our wives won't object to an occasional bout of loafing together, +will they?" + +I was determined not to take him too seriously. He said nothing, and in +a moment he was gone. + +I passed the morning idly enough, yet thinking, too, very much about my +friend. I was anxiously hoping that the telegram from Winnipeg would +come. About noon it came. It was not known quite in what part of the +North-west, Madras (under his new name) was, for the corps of mounted +police had been changed about recently. My letter had, however, been +forwarded into the wilds. + +I saw no immediate way but to go to Mrs. Falchion and make a bold bid +for his peace. I had promised Madras never to let her know that he was +alive, but I would break the promise if Madras himself did not come. +After considerable hesitation I started. It must be remembered that the +events of the preceding chapter were only known to me afterwards. + +Justine Caron was passing through the hall of the hotel when I arrived. +After greetings, she said that Mrs. Falchion might see me, but that they +were very busy; they were leaving in the evening for the coast. Here +was a pleasant revelation! I was so confused with delight at the +information, that I could think of nothing more sensible to say than +that the unexpected always happens. By this time we were within Mrs. +Falchion's sitting-room. And to my remark, Justine replied "Yes, it is +so. One has to reckon most with the accidents of life. The expected is +either pleasant or unpleasant; there is no middle place." + +"You are growing philosophic," said I playfully. "Monsieur," she said +gravely, "I hope as I live and travel, I grow a little wiser." Still she +lingered, her hand upon the door. + +"I had thought that you were always wise." + +"Oh no, no! How can you say so? I have been very foolish sometimes." +. . . She came back towards me. "If I am wiser I am also happier," +she added. + +In that moment we understood each other; that is, I read how unselfish +this girl could be, and she knew thoroughly the source of my anxiety, +and was glad that she could remove it. + +"I would not speak to any one save you," she said, "but do you not also +think that it is good we go?" + +"I have been thinking so, but I hesitated to say so," was my reply. + +"You need not hesitate," she said earnestly. "We have both understood, +and I know that you are to be trusted." + +"Not always," I said, remembering that one experience of mine with Mrs. +Falchion on the 'Fulvia'. Holding the back of a chair, and looking +earnestly at me, she continued: "Once, on the vessel, you remember, in a +hint so very little, I made it appear that madame was selfish. . . . +I am sorry. Her heart was asleep. Now, it is awake. She is unselfish. +The accident of our going away is hers. She goes to leave peace behind." +"I am most glad," said I. "And you think there will be peace?" + +"Surely, since this has come, that will come also." + +"And you--Mademoiselle?" I should not have asked that question had I +known more of the world. It was tactless and unkind. + +"For me it is no matter at all. I do not come in anywhere. As I said, +I am happy." + +And turning quickly, yet not so quickly but that I saw her cheeks were +flushed, she passed out of the room. In a moment Mrs. Falchion entered. +There was something new in her carriage, in her person. She came towards +me, held out her hand, and said, with the same old half-quizzical tone: +"Have you, with your unerring instinct, guessed that I was leaving, and +so come to say good-bye?" + +"You credit me too highly. No, I came to see you because I had an +inclination. I did not guess that you were going until Miss Caron told +me." + +"An inclination to see me is not your usual instinct, is it? Was it some +special impulse, based on a scientific calculation--at which, I suppose, +you are an adeptor curiosity? Or had it a purpose? Or were you bored, +and therefore sought the most startling experience you could conceive?" +She deftly rearranged some flowers in a jar. + +"I can plead innocence of all directly; I am guilty of all indirectly: I +was impelled to come. I reasoned--if that is scientific--on what I +should say if I did come, knowing how inclined I was to--" + +"To get beyond my depth," she interrupted, and she motioned me to a +chair. + +"Well, let it be so," said I. "I was curious to know what kept you in +this sylvan, and I fear, to you, half-barbaric spot. I was bored with +myself; and I had some purpose in coming, or I should not have had the +impulse." + +She was leaning back in her chair easily, not languidly. She seemed +reposeful, yet alert. + +"How wonderfully you talk!" she said, with good-natured mockery. "You +are scientifically frank. You were bored with yourself.--Then there is +some hope for your future wife. . . . We have had many talks in our +acquaintance, Dr. Marmion, but none so interesting as this promises to +be. But now tell me what your purpose was in coming. 'Purpose' seems +portentous, but quite in keeping." + +I noticed here the familiar, almost imperceptible click of the small +white teeth. + +Was I so glad she was going that I was playful, elated? "My purpose," +said I, "has no point now; for even if I were to propose to amuse you--I +believe that was the old formula--by an idle day somewhere, by an +excursion, an--" + +"An autobiography," she broke in soothingly. + +"Or an autobiography," I repeated stolidly, "you would not, I fancy, be +prepared to accept my services. There would be no chance--now that you +are going away--for me to play the harlequin--" + +"Whose office you could do pleasantly if it suited you--these adaptable +natures!" + +"Quite so. But it is all futile now, as I say." + +"Yes, you mentioned that before.--Well?" + +"It is well," I replied, dropping into a more meaning tone. + +"You say it patriarchally, but yet flatteringly." Here she casually +offered me a flower. I mechanically placed it in my buttonhole. She +seemed delighted at confusing me. But I kept on firmly. + +"I do not think," I rejoined gravely now, "that there need be any +flattery between us." + +"Why?--We are not married." + +"That is as radically true as it is epigrammatic," blurted I. + +"And truth is more than epigram?" + +"One should delight in truth; I do delight in epigram; there seems little +chance for choice here." + +It seemed to me that I had said quite what I wished there, but she only +looked at me enigmatically. + +She arranged a flower in her dress as she almost idly replied, though she +did not look me full in the face as she had done before: "Well, then, let +me add to your present delight by saying that you may go play till +doomsday, Dr. Marmion. Your work is done." + +"I do not understand." + +Her eyes were on me now with the directness she could so well use at +need. + +"I did not suppose you would, despite your many lessons at my hands. You +have been altruistic, Dr. Marmion; I fear critical people would say that +you meddled. I shall only say that you are inquiring--scientific, or +feminine--what you please! . . . You can now yield up your portfolio +of--foreign affairs--of war--shall I say? and retire into sedative +habitations, which, believe me, you become best. . . . What concerns +me need concern you no longer. The enemy retreats. She offers truce-- +without conditions. She retires. . . . Is that enough for even you, +Professor Marmion?" + +"Mrs. Falchion," I said, finding it impossible to understand why she had +so suddenly determined to go away (for I did not know all the truth until +afterwards--some of it long afterwards), "it is more than I dared to hope +for, though less, I know, than you have heart to do if you willed so. I +know that you hold some power over my friend." + +"Do not think," she said, "that you have had the least influence. What +you might think, or may have intended to do, has not moved me in the +least. I have had wrongs that you do not know. I have changed--that is +all. I admit I intended to do Galt Roscoe harm. + +"I thought he deserved it. That is over. After to-night, it is not +probable that we shall meet again. I hope that we shall not; as, +doubtless, is your own mind." + +She kept looking at me with that new deep look which I had seen when she +first entered the room. + +I was moved, and I saw that just at the last she had spoken under +considerable strain. "Mrs. Falchion," said I, "I have THOUGHT harder +things of you than I ever SAID to any one. Pray believe that, and +believe, also, that I never tried to injure you. For the rest, I can +make no complaint. You do not like me. I liked you once, and do now, +when you do not depreciate yourself of purpose. . . . Pardon me, but +I say this very humbly too. . . . I suppose I always shall like you, +in spite of myself. You are one of the most gifted and fascinating women +that I ever met. I have been anxious for my friend. I was concerned to +make peace between you and your husband--" + +"The man who WAS my husband," she interrupted musingly. + +"Your husband--whom you so cruelly treated. But I confess I have found +it impossible to withhold admiration of you." + +For a long time she did not reply, but she never took her eyes off my +face, as she leaned slightly forward. Then at last she spoke more gently +than I had ever heard her, and a glow came upon her face. + +"I am only human. You have me at advantage. What woman could reply +unkindly to a speech like that? I admit I thought you held me utterly +bad and heartless, and it made me bitter. . . . I had no heart--once. +I had only a wrong, an injury, which was in my mind; not mine, but +another's, and yet mine. Then strange things occurred. . . . At last +I relented. I saw that I had better go. Yesterday I saw that; and I am +going--that is all. . . . I wished to keep the edge of my intercourse +with you sharp and uncompanionable to the end; but you have forced me at +my weakest point. . . ." Here she smiled somewhat painfully. . . . +"Believe me, that is the way to turn a woman's weapon upon herself. You +have learned much since we first met. . . . Here is my hand in +friendliness, if you care to take it; and in good-bye, should we not meet +again more formally before I go." + +"I wish now that your husband, Boyd Madras, were here," I said. + +She answered nothing, but she did not resent it, only shuddered a little. + +Our hands grasped silently. I was too choked to speak, and I left her. +At that moment she blinded me to all her faults. She was a wonderful +woman. + + ..................... + +Galt Roscoe had walked slowly along the forest-road towards the valley, +his mind in that state of calm which, in some, might be thought numbness +of sensation, in others fortitude--the prerogative of despair. He came +to the point of land jutting out over the valley, where he had stood with +Mrs. Falchion, Justine, and myself, on the morning of Phil Boldrick's +death. + +He looked for a long time, and then, slowly descending the hillside, made +his way to Mr. Devlin's office. He found Phil's pal awaiting him there. +After a few preliminaries, the money was paid over, and Kilby said: + +"I've been to see his camping-ground. It's right enough. Viking has +done it noble. . . . Now, here's what I'm goin' to do: I'm goin' to +open bottles for all that'll drink success to Viking. A place that's +stood by my pal, I stand by--but not with his money, mind you! No, that +goes to you, Padre, for hospital purposes. My gift an' his. . . . +So, sit down and write a receipt, or whatever it's called, accordin' to +Hoyle, and you'll do me proud." + +Roscoe did as he requested, and handed the money over to Mr. Devlin for +safe keeping, remarking, at the same time, that the matter should be +announced on a bulletin outside the office at once. + +As Kilby stood chewing the end of a cigar and listening to the brief +conversation between Roscoe and Mr. Devlin, perplexity crossed his face. +He said, as Roscoe turned round: "There's something catchy about your +voice, Padre. I don't know what; but it's familiar like. You never was +on the Panama level, of course?" + +"Never." + +"Nor in Australia?" + +"Yes, in 1876." + +"I wasn't there then." + +Roscoe grew a shade paler, but he was firm and composed. He was +determined to answer truthfully any question that was asked him, wherever +it might lead. + +"Nor in Samoa?" + +There was the slightest pause, and then the reply came: + +"Yes, in Samoa." + +"Not a missionary, by gracious! Not a mickonaree in Samoa?" + +"No." He said nothing further. He did not feel bound to incriminate +himself. + +"No? Well, you wasn't a beachcomber, nor trader, I'll swear. Was you +there in the last half of the Seventies? That's when I was there." + +"Yes." The reply was quiet. + +"By Jingo!" The man's face was puzzled. He was about to speak again; +but at that moment two river-drivers--boon companions, who had been +hanging about the door--urged him to come to the tavern. This distracted +him. He laughed, and said that he was coming, and then again, though +with less persistency, questioned Roscoe. . "You don't remember me, I +suppose?" + +"No, I never saw you, so far as I know, until yesterday." + +"No? Still, I've heard your voice. It keeps swingin' in my ears; and I +can't remember. . . . I can't remember! . . . But we'll have a +spin about it again, Padre." He turned to the impatient men. "All +right, bully-boys, I'm comin'." + +At the door he turned and looked again at Roscoe with a sharp, half- +amused scrutiny, then the two parted. Kilby kept his word. He was +liberal to Viking; and Phil's memory was drunk, not in silence, many +times that day. So that when, in the afternoon, he made up his mind to +keep his engagement with Mrs. Falchion, and left the valley for the +hills, he was not entirely sober. But he was apparently good-natured. +As he idled along he talked to himself, and finally broke out into +singing: + + "'Then swing the long boat down the drink, + For the lads as pipe to go; + But I sink when the 'Lovely Jane' does sink, + To the mermaids down below.' + + "'The long boat bides on its strings,' says we, + 'An' we bides where the long boat bides; + An' we'll bluff this equatorial sea, + Or swallow its hurricane tides.' + + "But the 'Lovely Jane' she didn't go down, + An' she anchored at the Spicy Isles; + An' she sailed again to Wellington Town-- + A matter of a thousand miles." + +It will be remembered that this was part of the song sung by Galt Roscoe +on the Whi-Whi River, the day we rescued Mrs. Falchion and Justine Caron. +Kilby sang the whole song over to himself until he reached a point +overlooking the valley. Then he stood silent for a time, his glance upon +the town. The walk had sobered him a little. "Phil, old pal," he said +at last, "you ain't got the taste of raw whiskey with you now. When a +man loses a pal he loses a grip on the world equal to all that pal's grip +was worth. . . . I'm drunk, and Phil's down there among the worms-- +among the worms! . . . Ah!" he added in disgust, and, dashing his +hand across his eyes, struck off into the woods again, making his way to +the summer hotel, where he had promised to meet Mrs. Falchion. He +inquired for her, creating some astonishment by his uncouth appearance +and unsteady manner. + +He learned from Justine that Mrs. Falchion had gone to see Roscoe, and +that he would probably meet her if he went that way. This he did. He +was just about to issue into a partly open space by a ravine near the +house, when he heard voices, and his own name mentioned. He stilled and +listened. + +"Yes, Galt Roscoe," said a voice, "Sam Kilby is the man that loved Alo-- +loved her not as you did. He would have given her a home, have made her +happy, perhaps. You, when Kilby was away, married her--in native +fashion--which is no marriage--and KILLED her." + +"No, no, I did not kill her--that is not so. As God is my Judge, that is +not so." + +"You did not kill her with the knife? . . . Well, I will be honest +now, and say that I believe that, whatever I may have hinted or said +before. But you killed her just the same when you left her." + +"Mercy Falchion," he said desperately, "I will not try to palliate my +sin. But still I must set myself right with you in so far as I can. The +very night Alo killed herself I had made up my mind to leave the navy. +I was going to send in my papers, and come back to Apia, and marry her as +Englishmen are married. While I remained in the navy I could not, as you +know, marry her. It would be impossible to an English officer. I +intended to come back and be regularly married to her." + +"You say that now," was the cold reply. + +"But it is the truth, the truth indeed. Nothing that you might say could +make me despise myself more than I do; but I have told you all, as I +shall have to tell it one day before a just God. You have spared me: He +will not." + +"Gait Roscoe," she replied, "I am not merciful, nor am I just. I +intended to injure you, though you will remember I saved your life that +night by giving you a boat for escape across the bay to the 'Porcupine', +which was then under way. The band on board, you also remember, was +playing the music of La Grande Duchesse. You fired on the natives who +followed. Well, Sam Kilby was with them. Your brother officers did not +know the cause of the trouble. It was not known to any one in Apia +exactly who it was that Kilby and the natives had tracked from Alo's +hut." + +He drew his hand across his forehead dazedly. + +"Oh, yes I remember!" he said. "I wish I had faced the matter there and +then. It would have been better." + +"I doubt that," she replied. "The natives who saw you coming from Alo's +hut did not know you. You wisely came straight to the Consul's office-- +my father's house. And I helped you, though Alo, half-caste Alo, was-- +my sister!" + +Roscoe started back. "Alo--your--sister!" he exclaimed in horror. + +"Yes, though I did not know it till afterwards, not till just before my +father died. Alo's father was my father; and her mother had been +honestly married to my father by a missionary; though for my sake it had +never been made known. You remember, also, that you carried on your +relations with Alo secretly, and my father never suspected it was you." + +"Your sister!" Roscoe was white and sick. + +"Yes. And now you understand my reason for wishing you ill, and for +hating you to the end." + +"Yes," he said despairingly, "I see." + +She was determined to preserve before him the outer coldness of her +nature to the last. + +"Let us reckon together," she said. "I helped to--in fact, I saved your +life at Apia. You helped to save my life at the Devil's Slide. That is +balanced. You did me--the honour to say that you loved me once. Well, +one of my race loved you. That is balanced also. My sister's death came +through you. There is no balance to that. What shall balance Alo's +death? . . . I leave you to think that over. It is worth thinking +about. I shall keep your secret, too. Kilby does not know you. I doubt +that he ever saw you, though, as I said, he followed you with the natives +that night in Apia. He was to come to see me to-day. I think I intended +to tell him all, and shift--the duty--of punishment on his shoulders, +which I do not doubt he would fulfil. But he shall not know. Do not ask +why. I have changed my mind, that is all. But still the account remains +a long one. You will have your lifetime to reckon with it, free from any +interference on my part; for, if I can help it, we shall never meet again +in this world--never. . . . And now, good-bye." + +Without a gesture of farewell she turned and left him standing there, in +misery and bitterness, but in a thankfulness too, more for Ruth's sake +than his own. He raised his arms with a despairing motion, then let them +drop heavily to his side. . . . + +And then two strong hands caught his throat, a body pressed hard against +him, and he was borne backward--backward--to the cliff! + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AFTER THE STORM + +I was sitting on the verandah, writing a letter to Belle Treherne. The +substantial peace of a mountain evening was on me. The air was clear, +and full of the scent of the pines and cedars, and the rumble of the +rapids came musically down the canon. I lifted my head and saw an eagle +sailing away to the snow-topped peak of Trinity, and then turned to watch +the orioles in the trees. The hour was delightful. It made me feel how +grave mere living is, how noble even the meanest of us becomes sometimes +--in those big moments when we think the world was built for us. It is +half egotism, half divinity; but why quarrel with it? + +I was young, ambitious; and Love and I were at that moment the only +figures in the universe really deserving attention! I looked on down a +lane of cedars before me, seeing in imagination a long procession of +pleasant things; of-- As I looked, another procession moved through the +creatures of my dreams, so that they shrank away timidly, then utterly, +and this new procession came on and on, until--I suddenly rose, and +started forward fearfully, to see--unhappy reality!--the body of Galt +Roscoe carried towards me. + +Then a cold wind seemed to blow from the glacier above and killed all the +summer. A man whispered to me: "We found him at the bottom of the ravine +yonder. He'd fallen over, I suppose." + +I felt his heart. "He is not dead, thank God!" I said. + +"No, sir," said the other, "but he's all smashed." They brought him in +and laid him on his bed. I sent one of the party for the doctor at +Viking, and myself set to work, with what appliances I had, to deal with +the dreadful injuries. When the doctor came, together we made him into +the semblance of a man again. His face was but slightly injured, though +his head had received severe hurts. I think that I alone saw the marks +on his throat; and I hid them. I guessed the cause, but held my peace. + +I had sent round at once to James Devlin (but asked him not to come till +morning), and also to Mrs. Falchion; but I begged her not to come at all. +I might have spared her that; for, as I afterwards knew, she had no +intention of coming. She had learned of the accident on her way to +Viking, and had turned back; but only to wait and know the worst or the +best. + +About midnight I was left alone with Roscoe. Once, earlier in the +evening, he had recognised me and smiled faintly, but I had shaken my +head, and he had said nothing. Now, however, he was looking at me +earnestly. I did not speak. What he had to tell me was best told in his +own time. + +At last he said faintly: "Marmion, shall I die soon?" + +I knew that frankness was best, and I replied: "I cannot tell, Roscoe. +There is a chance of your living." + +He moved his head sadly. "A very faint chance?" + +"Yes, a faint one, but--" + +"Yes? 'But'?" He looked at me as though he wished it over. + +"But it rests with you whether the chance is worth anything. If you are +content to die, it is gone." + +"I am content to die," he replied. + +"And there," said I, "you are wrong and selfish. You have Ruth to live +for. Besides, if you are given the chance, you commit suicide if you do +not take it." + +There was a long pause, and then he said: "You are right; I will live if +I can, Marmion." + +"And now YOU are right." I nodded soothingly to him, and then asked him +to talk no more; for I knew that fever would soon come on. + +He lay for a moment silent, but at length whispered: "Did you know it was +not a fall I had?" He raised his chin and stretched his throat slightly, +with a kind of trembling. + +"I thought it was not a fall," I replied. + +"It was Phil's pal--Kilby." + +"I thought that." + +"How could you--think it? Did--others--think so?" he asked anxiously. + +"No, not others; I alone. They thought it accident; they could have no +ground for suspicion. But I had; and, besides, there were marks on your +throat." + +"Nothing must happen to him, you understand. He had been drinking, and +--and he was justified. I wronged him in Samoa, him and Mrs. Falchion." + +I nodded and put my fingers on my lips. + +Again there was silence. I sat and watched him, his eyes closed, his +body was motionless. He slept for hours so, and then he waked rather +sharply, and said half deliriously: "I could have dragged him with me, +Marmion." + +"But you did not. Yes, I understand. Go to sleep again, Roscoe." + +Later on the fever came, and he moaned and moved his head about his +pillow. He could not move his body--it was too much injured. + +There was a source of fear in Kilby. Would he recklessly announce what +he had done, and the cause of it? After thinking it over and over, I +concluded that he would not disclose his crimes. My conclusions were +right, as after events showed. + +As for Roscoe, I feared that if he lived he must go through life maimed. +He had a private income; therefore if he determined to work no more in +the ministry, he would, at least, have the comforts of life. + +Ruth Devlin came. I went to Roscoe and told him that she wished to see +him. He smiled sorrowfully and said: "To what end, Marmion? I am a +drifting wreck. It will only shock her." I think he thought she would +not love him now if he lived--a crippled man. + +"But is this noble? Is it just to her?" said I. + +After a long time he answered: "You are right again, quite right. I am +selfish. When one is shaking between life and death, one thinks most of +one's self." + +"She will help to bring you back from those places, Roscoe." + +"If I am delirious ever, do not let her come, will you, Marmion? Promise +me that." I promised. + +I went to her. She was very calm and womanly. She entered the room, +went quietly to his bedside, and, sitting down, took his hand. Her smile +was pitiful and anxious, but her words were brave. + +"My dearest," she said, "I am so sorry. But you will soon be well, so we +must be as patient and cheerful as we can." + +His eyes answered, but he did not speak. She leaned over and kissed his +cheek. Then he said: "I hope I may get well." + +"This was the shadow over you," she ventured. "This was your +presentiment of trouble--this accident." + +"Yes, this was the shadow." + +Some sharp thought seemed to move her, for her eyes grew suddenly hard, +and she stooped and whispered: "Was SHE there--when--it happened, Galt?" + +He shrank from the question, but he said immediately: "No, she was not +there." + +"I am glad," she added, "that it was only an accident." + +Her eyes grew clear of their momentary hardness. There is nothing in +life like the anger of one woman against another concerning a man. + +Justine Caron came to the house, pale and anxious, to inquire. Mrs. +Falchion, she said, was not going away until she knew how Mr. Roscoe's +illness would turn. + +"Miss Caron," I said to her, "do you not think it better that she should +go?" + +"Yes, for him; but she grieves now." + +"For him?" + +"Not alone for him," was the reply. There was a pause, and then she +continued: "Madame told me to say to you that she did not wish Mr. Roscoe +to know that she was still here." + +I assured her that I understood, and then she added mournfully: "I cannot +help you now, monsieur, as I did on board the 'Fulvia'. But he will be +better cared for in Miss Devlin's hands, the poor lady! . . . Do you +think that he will live?" + +"I hope so. I am not sure." + +Her eyes went to tears; and then I tried to speak more encouragingly. + +All day people came to inquire, chief among them Mr. Devlin, whose big +heart split itself in humanity and compassion. "The price of the big +mill for the guarantee of his life!" he said over and over again. "We +can't afford to let him go." + +Although I should have been on my way back to Toronto, I determined to +stay until Roscoe was entirely out of danger. It was singular, but in +this illness, though the fever was high, he never was delirious. It +would almost seem as if, having paid his penalty, the brain was at rest. + +While Roscoe hovered between life and death, Mr. Devlin, who persisted +that he would not die, was planning for a new hospital and a new church, +of which Roscoe should be president and padre respectively. But the +suspense to us all, for many days, was very great; until, one morning +when the birds were waking the cedars, and the snow on Mount Trinity was +flashing coolness down the hot valley, he waked and said to me: "Marmion, +old friend; it is morning at last." + +"Yes, it is morning," said I. "And you are going to live now? You are +going to be reasonable and give the earth another chance?" + +"Yes, I believe I shall live now." + +To cheer him, I told him what Mr. Devlin intended and had planned; how +river-drivers and salmon-fishers came every day from the valley to +inquire after him. I did not tell him that there had been one or two +disturbances between the river-drivers and the salmon-fishers. I tried +to let him see that there need be no fresh change in his life. At length +he interrupted me. + +"Marmion," he said, "I understand what you mean. It would be cowardly of +me to leave here now if I were a whole man. I am true in intention, God +knows, but I must carry a crippled arm for the rest of my life, must I +not? . . . . and a crippled Padre is not the kind of man for this +place. They want men straight on their feet." + +"Do you think," I answered, "that they will not be able to stand the +test? You gave them--shall I say it?--a crippled mind before; you give +them a crippled body now. Well, where do you think the odds lie? I +should fancy with you as you are." + +There was a long silence in which neither of us moved. At last he turned +his face towards the window, and, not looking at me, said lingeringly: +"This is a pleasant place." + +I knew that he would remain. + +I had not seen Mrs. Falchion during Roscoe's illness; but every day +Justine came and inquired, or a messenger was sent. And when, this +fortunate day, Justine herself came, and I told her that the crisis was +past, she seemed infinitely relieved and happy. Then she said: + +"Madame has been ill these three days also; but now I think she will be +better; and we shall go soon." + +"Ask her," said I, "not to go yet for a few days. Press it as a favour +to me." Then, on second thought, I sat down and wrote Mrs. Falchion a +note, hinting that there were grave reasons why she should stay a little +longer: things connected with her own happiness. Truth is, I had +received a note that morning which had excited me. It referred to Mrs. +Falchion. For I was an arch-plotter--or had been. + +I received a note in reply which said that she would do as I wished. +Meanwhile I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of some one. + +That night a letter came to Roscoe. After reading it shrinkingly he +handed it to me. It said briefly: + + I'm not sorry I did it, but I'm glad I hevn't killed you. I was + drunk and mad. If I hadn't hurt you, I'd never hev forgive myself. + I reckon now, there's no need to do any forgivin' either side. + We're square--though maybe you didn't kill her after all. Mrs. + Falchion says you didn't. But you hurt her. Well, I've hurt you. + And you will never hear no more of Phil's pal from Danger Mountain. + +Immediately after sunset of this night, a storm swept suddenly down the +mountains, and prevented Ruth and her father from going to Viking. I +left them talking to Roscoe, he wearing such a look on his face as I like +to remember now, free from distress of mind--so much more painful than +distress of body. As I was leaving the room, I looked back and saw Ruth +sitting on a stool beside Roscoe's chair, holding the unmaimed hand in +hers; the father's face shining with pleasure and pride. Before I went +out, I turned again to look at them, and, as I did so, my eye fell on the +window against which the wind and rain were beating. And through the wet +there appeared a face, shocking in its paleness and misery--the face of +Mrs. Falchion. Only for an instant, and then it was gone. + +I opened the door and went out upon the verandah. As I did so, there was +a flash of lightning, and in that flash a figure hurried by me. One +moment, and there was another flash; and I saw the figure in the beating +rain, making toward the precipice. + +Then I heard a cry, not loud, but full of entreaty and sorrow. I moved +quickly toward it. In another white gleam I saw Justine with her arms +about the figure, holding it back from the abyss. She said with +incredible pleading: + +"No, no, madame, not that! It is wicked--wicked." + +I came and stood beside them. + +The figure sank upon the ground and buried a pitiful face in the wet +grass. + +Justine leaned over her. + +She sobbed as one whose harvest of the past is all tears. Nothing human +could comfort her yet. + +I think she did not know that I was there. Justine lifted her face to +me, appealing. + +I turned and stole silently away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN PORT + +That night I could not rest. It was impossible to rid myself of the +picture of Mrs. Falchion as I had seen her by the precipice in the storm. +What I had dared to hope for had come. She had been awakened; and with +the awakening had risen a new understanding of her own life and the lives +of others. The storm of wind and rain that had swept down the ravine was +not wilder than her passions when I left her with Justine in the dark +night. + +All had gone well where the worst might have been. Roscoe's happiness +was saved to him. He felt that the accident to him was the penalty he +paid for the error of his past; but in the crash of penalties Mrs. +Falchion, too, was suffering; and, so far as she knew, must carry with +her the remorse of having seen, without mercy, her husband sink to a +suicide's grave. I knew that she was paying a great price now for a +mistaken past. I wished that I might make her remorse and sorrow less. +There was a way, but I was not sure that all would be as I wished. Since +a certain dreadful day on the 'Fulvia', Hungerford and I had held a secret +in our hands. When it seemed that Mrs. Falchion would bring a great +trouble and shame into Roscoe's life, I determined to use the secret. It +must be used now only for Mrs. Falchion's good. As I said in the last +chapter, I had received word that somebody was coming whose presence must +take a large place in the drama of these events: and I hoped the best. + +Until morning I lay and planned the best way to bring things to a +successful issue. The morning came--beautiful after a mad night. Soon +after I got up I received a note, brought by a boy from Viking, which +gave me a thrill of excitement. The note requested me to go to Sunburst. +But first I sent a note to Mrs. Falchion, begging her in the name of our +new friendship not to leave the mountains that day. I also asked that +she would meet me in Sunburst that evening at eight o'clock, at a place +indicated by me. I asked for a reply by the messenger I sent, and urged +her to ask no questions, but to trust me as one who only wished to do her +a great service, as I hoped her compliance would make possible. I waited +for the reply, and it bore but the one word--"Yes." + +Greatly pleased, I started down the valley. It was still early when I +reached Sunburst. I went directly to the little tavern from whence the +note had come, and remained an hour or more. The result of that hour's +conversation with the writer of the note was memorable, as was the hour +itself. I began to hope fondly for the success of my scheme. + +From the tavern I went to the village, with an elation hardly disturbed +by the fact that many of the salmon-fishers were sullen, because of +foolish depredations committed the evening before by idle river-men and +mill-hands of Viking. Had I not been so occupied with Mrs. Falchion and +an event wherein she must figure, I should have taken more seriously the +mutterings of the half-breeds, the moroseness of the Indians, and the +nervous threatenings of the white fishers: the more so because I knew +that Mr. Devlin had started early that morning for the Pacific Coast, and +would not be back for some days. + +No two classes of people could be more unlike than the salmon-fishers of +Sunburst and the mill-hands and river-drivers of Viking. The life of the +river-men was exciting, hardy, and perilous; tending to boisterousness, +recklessness, daring, and wild humour: that of the salmon-fishers was +cheerful, picturesque, infrequently dangerous, mostly simple and quiet. +The river-driver chose to spend his idle hours in crude, rough +sprightliness; the salmon-fisher loved to lie upon the shore and listen +to the village story-teller,--almost official when successful,--who +played upon the credulity and imagination of his listeners. The river- +driver loved excitement for its own sake, and behind his boisterousness +there was little evil. When the salmon-fisher was roused, his anger +became desperately serious. It was not his practice to be boisterous for +the sake of boisterousness. + +All this worked for a crisis. + +From Sunburst I went over to Viking, and for a time watched a handful of +river-drivers upon a little island in the centre of the river, working to +loosen some logs and timber and foist them into the water, to be driven +down to the mill. I stood interested, because I had nothing to do of any +moment for a couple of hours. I asked an Indian on the bank to take his +canoe and paddle me over to the island. He did so. I do not know why I +did not go alone; but the Indian was near me, his canoe was at his hand, +and I did the thing almost mechanically. I landed on the island and +watched with great interest the men as they pried, twisted and tumbled +the pile to get at the key-log which, found and loosened, would send the +heap into the water. + +I was sorry I brought the Indian with me, for though the river-drivers +stopped their wild sing-song cry for a moment to call a "How!" at me, +they presently began to toss jeering words at the Indian. They had +recognised him--I had not--as a salmon-fisher and one of the Siwash tribe +from Sunburst. He remained perfectly silent, but I could see sullenness +growing on his face. He appeared to take no notice of his scornful +entertainers, but, instead of edging away, came nearer and nearer to the +tangle of logs--came, indeed, very close to me, as I stood watching four +or five men, with the foreman close by, working at a huge timber. At a +certain moment the foreman was in a kind of hollow. Just behind him, +near to the Indian, was a great log, which, if loosened by a slight +impulse, must fall into the hollow where the foreman stood. The foreman +had his face to us; the backs of the other men were on us. Suddenly the +foreman gave a frightened cry, and I saw at the same instant the Indian's +foot thrust out upon the big log. Before the foreman had time to get out +of the hollow, it slid down, caught him just above the ankle and broke +the leg. + +I wheeled, to see the Indian in his canoe making for the shore. He was +followed by the curses of the foreman and the gang. The foreman was very +quiet, but I could see that there was danger in his eye, and the +exclamations of the men satisfied me that they were planning an inter- +municipal difficulty. + +I improvised bandages, set the leg directly, and in a little while we got +to the shore on a hastily constructed raft. After seeing the foreman +safely cared for, and giving Mr. Devlin's manager the facts of the +occurrence, more than sated with my morning's experience, I climbed the +mountain side, and took refuge from the heat in the coolness of Roscoe's +rooms. + +In the afternoon I received a note from Mrs. Falchion, saying that on the +following day she would start for the coast; that her luggage would be +taken to Sunburst at once; and that, her engagement with me fulfilled, +she would spend a night there, not returning again to the hills. I was +preparing for my own departure, and was kept very busy until evening. +Then I went quickly down into the valley,--for I was late,--and trudged +eagerly on to Sunburst. As I neared the village I saw that there were +fewer lights--torches and fires--than usual on the river. I noticed also +that there were very few fishers on the banks or in the river. But still +the village seemed noisy, and, although it was dusk, I could make out +much stir in the one street along which the cottages and huts ambled for +nearly a mile. + +All at once it came to me strongly that the friction between the two +villages had consummated in the foreman's injury, and was here coming to +a painful crisis. My suspicions had good grounds. As I hurried on I saw +that the lights usually set on the banks of the river were scattered +through the town. Bonfires were being lighted, and torches were flaring +in front of the Indian huts. Coming closer, I saw excited groups of +Indians, half-breeds, and white men moving here and there; and then, all +at once, there came a cry--a kind of roar--from farther up the village, +and the men gathered themselves together, seizing guns, sticks, irons, +and other weapons, and ran up the street. I understood. I was +moderately swift of foot those days. I came quickly after them, and +passed them. As I did so I inquired of one or two fishers what was the +trouble. + +They told me, as I had guessed, that they expected an attack on the +village by the mill-hands and river-drivers of Viking. + +The situation was critical. I could foresee a catastrophe which would +for ever unsettle the two towns, and give the valley an unenviable +reputation. I was certain that, if Roscoe or Mr. Devlin were present, +a prohibitive influence could be brought to bear; that some one of strong +will could stand, as it were, in the gap between them, and prevent a +pitched battle, and, possibly, bloodshed. I was sure that at Viking the +river-drivers had laid their plans so secretly that the news of them +would scarcely reach the ears of the manager of the mill, and that, +therefore, his influence, as Mr. Devlin's, would not be available. + +Remained only myself--as I first thought. I was unknown to a great +number of the men of both villages, and familiar with but very few-- +chiefly those with whom I had a gossiping acquaintance. Yet, somehow, +I felt that if I could but get a half-dozen men to take a firm stand with +me, I might hold the rioters in check. + +As I ran by the side of the excitable fishers, I urged upon one or two of +them the wisdom and duty of preventing a conflict. Their reply was--and +it was very convincing--that they were not forcing a struggle, but were +being attacked, and in the case would fight. My hasty persuasion +produced but little result. But I kept thinking hard. Suddenly it came +to me that I could place my hand upon a man whose instincts in the matter +would be the same as mine; who had authority; knew the world; had been in +dangerous positions in his lifetime; and owed me something. I was sure +that I could depend upon him: the more so that once frail of body he had +developed into a strong, well-controlled man. + +Even as I thought of him, I was within a few rods of the house where he +was. I looked, and saw him standing in the doorway. I ran and called to +him. He instantly joined me, and we ran on together: the fishermen +shouting loudly as they watched the river-drivers come armed down the +hill-slope into the village. + +I hastily explained the situation to my friend, and told him what we must +do. A word or two assured me of all I wished to know. We reached the +scene of the disorder. The fishermen were bunched together, the river on +the one side, the houses and hills on the other. The river-drivers had +halted not many yards away, cool, determined and quiet, save for a little +muttering. In their red shirts, top boots, many of them with long black +hair and brass earrings, they looked a most formidable crowd. They had +evidently taken the matter seriously, and were come with the intention of +carrying their point, whatever it might be. Just as we reached the space +between the two parties, the massive leader of the river-drivers stepped +forward, and in a rough but collected voice said that they had come +determined to fight, if fighting were necessary, but that they knew what +the end of the conflict would be, and they did not wish to obliterate +Sunburst entirely if Sunburst accepted the conditions of peace. + +There seemed no leader to the fishermen. + +My friend said to me quickly: "You speak first." Instantly I stepped +forward and demanded to know what the terms of peace were. As soon as I +did so, there were harsh mutterings among the river-drivers. I explained +at once, waving back some of the fisher-men who were clamouring about me, +that I had nothing whatever to do with the quarrel; that I happened to be +where I was by accident, as I had happened by accident to see the +difficulty of the morning. But I said that it was the duty of every man +who was a good citizen and respected the laws of his country, to see, in +so far as it was possible, that there should be no breach of those laws. +I spoke in a clear strong voice, and I think I produced some effect upon +both parties to the quarrel. The reply of the leader was almost +immediate. He said that all they demanded was the Indian who had so +treacherously injured the foreman of their gangs. I saw the position at +once, and was dumfounded. For a moment I did not speak. + +I was not prepared for the scene that immediately followed. Some one +broke through the crowd at my back, rushed past me, and stood between the +two forces. It was the Indian who had injured the foreman. He was naked +to the waist, and painted and feathered after the manner of his tribe +going to battle. There was a wild light in his eye, but he had no +weapon. He folded his arms across his breast, and said: + +"Well, you want me. Here I am. I will fight with any man all alone, +without a gun or arrow or anything. I will fight with my arms--to kill." + +I saw revolvers raised at him instantly, but at that the man, my friend, +who stood beside me, sprang in front of the Indian. + +"Stop--stop!" he cried. "In the name of the law! I am a sergeant of +the mounted police of Canada. My jurisdiction extends from Winnipeg to +Vancouver. You cannot have this man except over my body: and for my body +every one of you will pay with your lives; for every blow struck this +night, there will be a hundred blows struck upon the river-drivers and +mill-hands of this valley. Take care! Behind me is the law of the land +--her police and her soldiery." + +He paused. There was almost complete silence. He continued: + +"This man is my prisoner; I arrest him."--He put his hand upon the +Indian's shoulder.--"For the crime he committed this morning he shall +pay: but to the law, not to you. Put up your revolvers, men. Go back to +Viking. Don't risk your lives; don't break the law and make yourselves +criminals and outlaws. Is it worth it? Be men. You have been the +aggressors. There isn't one of you but feels that justice which is the +boast of every man of the West. You wanted to avenge the crime of this +morning. But the vengeance is the law's.--Stand back--Stand back!" he +said, and drew his revolver, as the leader of the river-drivers stepped +forward. "I will kill the first man that tries to lay his hand upon my +prisoner. Don't be mad. I am not one man, I am a whole country." + +I shall never forget the thrill that passed through me as I saw a man +who, but a handful of months before, was neck deep in his grave, now +blossomed out into a strong, defiant soldier. + +There was a pause. At last the leader of the river-drivers spoke. +"See," he said, "Sergeant, I guess you're right. You're a man, so help +me! Say, boys," he continued, turning to his followers, "let him have +the Injin. I guess he's earned him." + +So saying he wheeled, the men with him, and they tramped up the slope +again on their way back to Viking. The man who had achieved this turned +upon the fishers. + +"Back to your homes!" he said. "Be thankful that blood was not shed +here to-night, and let this be a lesson to you. Now, go." + +The crowd turned, slowly shambled down the riverside, and left us three +standing there. + +But not alone. Out of the shadow of one of the houses came two women. +They stepped forward into the light of the bonfire burning near us. One +of the women was very pale. + +It was Mrs. Falchion. + +I touched the arm of the man standing beside me. He wheeled and saw her +also. A cry broke from his lips, but he stood still. A whole life-time +of sorrow, trouble, and love looked out of his eyes. Mrs. Falchion came +nearer. Clasping her hands upon her breast, she peered up into his face, +and gasped: + +"Oh--oh--I thought that you were drowned--and dead! I saw you buried in +the sea. No--no--it cannot be you! I have heard and seen all within +these past few minutes. YOU are so strong and brave, so great a man!... +Oh, tell me, tell me, are you in truth my husband?" + +He spoke. + +"I was your husband, Mercy Falchion. I was drowned, but this man"--he +turned and touched my shoulder--"this man brought me back to life. I +wanted to be dead to the world. I begged him to keep my secret. A +sailor's corpse was buried in my shroud, and I lived. At Aden I stole +from the boat in the night. I came to America--to Canada--to begin a new +life under a new name, never to see you again. . . . Do not, do not +speak to me--unless I am not to lose you again; unless I am to know that +now you forgive me--that you forgive me--and wish me to live--my wife!" + +She put both her hands out, a strange, sorrowful look in her eyes, and +said: "I have sinned--I have sinned." + +He took her hands in his. + +"I know," he said, "that you do not love me yet; but you may some day." + +"No," she said, "I do not love you; but . . . . I am glad you live. Let +us--go home." + + +THE END. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A heart-break for that kind is their salvation +A man may be forgiven for a sin, but the effect remains +A man you could bank on, and draw your interest reg'lar +Aboriginal dispersion +All he has to do is to be vague, and look prodigious (Scientist) +And even envy praised her +Audience that patronisingly listens outside a room or window +But to pay the vulgar penalty of prison--ah! +Death is a magnificent ally; it untangles knots +Death is not the worst of evils +Engrossed more, it seemed, in the malady than in the man +Every true woman is a mother, though she have no child +Fear a woman are when she hates, and when she loves +For a man having work to do, woman, lovely woman, is rocks +He didn't always side with the majority +He had neither self-consciousness nor fear +Her own suffering always set her laughing at herself +It is difficult to be idle--and important too +It is hard to be polite to cowards +Jews everywhere treated worse than the Chinaman +Learned what fools we mortals be +Love can outlive slander +Men do not steal up here: that is the unpardonable crime +One always buys back the past at a tremendous price +One doesn't choose to worry +Saying uncomfortable things in a deferential way +She had provoked love, but had never given it +Slow-footed hours wandered by, leaving apathy in their train +"Still the end of your existence," I rejoined--"to be amused?" +That anxious civility which beauty can inspire +The happy scene of the play before the villain comes in +The ravings of a sick man are not always counted ravings +The sea is a great breeder of friendship +The tender care of a woman--than many pharmacopoeias +The threshold of an acknowledged love +There are things we repent of which cannot be repaired +There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world +Think that a woman gives the heart for pleasant weather only? +Thou wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart +Time a woman most yearns for a man is when she has refused him +Vanity; and from this much feminine hatred springs +Very severe on those who do not pretend to be good +What is gone is gone Graves are idolatry +Who get a morbid enjoyment out of misery +Would look back and not remember that she had a childhood + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MRS. 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