Lords of the North Part 21

"All?" she returned, the lashes falling over the misty, gray eyes. "Ah, Rufus! Are we playing jest is earnest, or earnest is jest?" and she turned quickly and went to her tent.

How long I stood in reverie, I do not know. The priest's broad hand presently came down on my shoulder with a savage thud.

"Ye blunder-busticus, ye, what have ye been doing?" he asked. "The Little Statue was crying when she went to her tent."

"Crying?"

"Yes, ye idiot. I'll stay by her to-morrow."

And he did. Nor could he have contrived severer punishment for the unfortunate effect of my words. Fool, that I was! I should keep myself in hand henceforth. How many men have made that vow regarding the woman they love? Those that have kept it, I trow, could be counted easily enough. But I had no opportunity to break my vow; for the priest rode with Frances Sutherland the whole of the second day, and not once did he let loose his scorpion wit. She had breakfast alone in her tent next morning, the priest carrying tea and toast to her; and when she came out, she leaped to her saddle so quickly I lost the expected favor of placing that imperious foot in the stirrup. We set out three abreast, and I had no courage to read my fate from the cold, marble face. The ground became rougher. We were forced to follow long detours round sloughs, and I gladly fell to the rear where I was un.o.bserved. Clumps of willows alone broke the endless dip of the plain. Gla.s.sy creeks glittered silver through the green, and ever the trail, like a narrow ribbon of many loops, fled before us to the dim sky-line.

When we halted for our nooning, Frances Sutherland had slipped from her saddle and gone off picking prairie roses before either the priest or I noticed her absence.

"If you go off, you nuisance, you," said the priest rubbing his bald pate, and gazing after her in a puzzled way, when we had the meal ready, "I think she'll come back and eat."

I promptly took myself off and had the glum pleasure of hearing her chat in high spirits over the dinner table of packing boxes; but she was on her cayuse and off with the scouts long before Father Holland and I had mounted.

"Rufus," said the priest with a comical, quizzical look, as we set off together. "Rufus, I think y'r a fool."

"I've thought that several hundred thousand times myself, this morning."

"Have ye as much as got a glint of her eye to-day?"

"No. I can't compete against the Church with women. Any fool knows that, even as big a fool as I."

"Tush, youngster! Don't take to licking your raw tongue up and down the cynic's saw edge! Put a spur to your broncho there and ride ahead with her."

"Having offended a G.o.ddess, I don't wish to be struck dead by inviting her wrath."

"Pah! I've no patience with y'r ramrod independence! Bend a stiff neck, or you'll break a sore heart! Ride ahead, I tell you, you young mule!"

and he brought a smart flick across my broncho.

"Father Holland," I made answer with the dignity of a bishop and my nose mighty high in the air, "will you permit me to suggest that people know their own affairs best----"

"Tush, no! I'll permit you to do nothing of the kind," said he, driving a fly from his horse's ear. "Don't you know, you young idiot, that between a man surrendering his love, and a woman surrendering hers, there's difference enough to account for tears? A man gives his and gets it back with compound interest in coin that's pure gold compared to his copper. A woman gives hers and gets back----" the priest stopped.

"What?" I asked, interest getting the better of wounded pride.

"Not much that's worth having from idiots like you," said he; by which the priest proved he could deal honestly by a friend, without any mincing palliatives.

His answer set me thinking for the best part of the afternoon; and I warrant if any man sets out with the priest's premises and thinks hard for an afternoon he will come to the same conclusion that I did.

"Let's both poke along a little faster," said I, after long silence.

"Oho! With all my heart!" And we caught up with Frances Sutherland and for the first time that day I dared to look at her face. If there were tear marks about the wondrous eyes, they were the marks of the shower after a sun-burst, the laughing gladness of life in golden light, the joyous calm of washed air when a storm has cleared away turbulence. Why did she evade me and turn altogether to the priest at her right? Had I been of an a.n.a.lytical turn of mind, I might, perhaps, have made a very careful study of an emotion commonly called jealousy; but, when one's heart beats fast, one's thoughts throng too swiftly for introspection.

Was I a part of the new happiness? I did not understand human nature then as I understand it now, else would I have known that fair eyes turn away to hide what they dare not reveal. I prided myself that I was now well in hand. I should take the first opportunity to undo my folly of the night before.

It was after supper. Father Holland had gone to his tent. Frances Sutherland was arranging a bunch of flowers in her lap; and I took my place directly behind her lest my face should tell truth while my tongue uttered lies.

"Speaking of stars, you know Miss Sutherland," I began, remembering that I had said something about stars that must be unsaid.

"Don't call me _Miss_ Sutherland, Rufus," she said, and that gentle answer knocked my grand resolution clean to the four winds.

"I beg your pardon, Frances----" Chaos and I were one. Whatever was it I was to say about stars?

"Well?" There was a waiting in the voice.

"Yes--you know--Frances." I tried to call up something coherent; but somehow the thumping of my heart set up a rattling in my head.

"No--Rufus. As a matter of fact, I don't know. You were going to tell me something."

"Bother my stupidity, Miss--Miss--Frances, but the mastiff's forgotten what it was going to bow-wow about!"

"Not the moon this time," she laughed. "Speaking of stars," and she gave me back my own words.

"Oh! Yes! Speaking of stars! Do you know I think a lot of the men coming up from Fort William got to regarding the star above the leading canoe as their own particular star."

I thought that speech a masterpiece. It would convince her she was the star of all the men, not mine particularly. That was true enough to appease conscience, a half-truth like Louis Laplante's words. So I would rob my foolish avowal of its personal element. A flush suffused the snowy white below her hair.

"Oh! I didn't notice any particular star above the leading canoe. There were so very, very many splendid stars, I used to watch them half the night!"

That answer threw me as far down as her manner had elated me.

"Well! What of the stars?" asked the silvery voice.

I was dumb. She flung the flowers aside as though she would leave; but Father Holland suddenly emerged from the tent fanning himself with his hat.

"Babes!" said he. "You're a pair of fools! Oh! To be young and throw our opportunities helter-skelter like flowers of which we're tired," and he looked at the upset lapful. "Children! children! _Carpe Diem! Carpe Diem!_ Pluck the flowers; for the days are swifter than arrows," and he walked away from us engrossed in his own thoughts, muttering over and over the advice of the Latin poet, "_Carpe Diem! Carpe Diem!_"

"What is _Carpe Diem_?" asked Frances Sutherland, gazing after the priest in sheer wonder.

"I wasn't strong on cla.s.sics at Laval and I haven't my crib."

"Go on!" she commanded. "You're only apologizing for my ignorance. You know very well."

"It means just what he says--as if each day were a flower, you know, had its joys to be plucked, that can never come again."

"Flowers! Oh! I know! The kind you all picked for me coming up from Fort William. And do you know, Rufus, I never could thank you all? Were those _Carpe Diem_ flowers?"

"No--not exactly the kind Father Holland means we should pick."

"What then?" and she turned suddenly to find her face not a hand's length from mine.

"This kind," I whispered, bending in terrified joy over her shoulder; and I plucked a blossom straight from her lips and another and yet another, till there came into the deep, gray eyes what I cannot transcribe, but what sent me away the king of all men--for had I not found my Queen?

And that was the way I carried out my grand resolution and kept myself in hand.