Prescott of Saskatchewan Part 19

"The part of an innocent man is too much for you to play; we won't force you into it. It will be a favor if you will have our baggage sent across here; needless to say, neither my daughter nor I can re-enter your house." Then his self-control deserted him and he broke out in hot fury: "I firmly believe you are the man who killed my son, and you shall not escape!"

"I think," said Colston quietly, "that is going too far."

Making no answer, Prescott left them; and he was harnessing his horse outside when, somewhat to his astonishment, Muriel came toward him. A half-moon hung low above the bluff and the silvery light shone into her face, showing her warmth of color and the sparkle in her eyes. He thought she looked wonderfully attractive and his heart throbbed faster, but he knew he must hold himself in hand.

"Hadn't you better go back?" he asked. "You have heard what your friends think of me."

"What does that matter?" she exclaimed with feeling. "I'm very angry with them. I can't let you go without saying that I know you could not have done what you have been wickedly accused of."

"I'm glad. Thank you. It's a big relief to feel that you believe in me.

So long as I have that a.s.surance nothing else counts."

"Harry Colston's not convinced; I believe he's trying to keep an open mind."

"Is that so?" said Prescott. "I don't expect much from him. He's the kind of man who's guided by appearances and seldom does anything out of the common."

Muriel disregarded this.

"But you were very foolish in deceiving us. I can't understand yet why you did so."

"I can only tell you that it was for Cyril's sake."

"Oh," she cried, "it could not have been because of any benefit that you would get! That would never have tempted you."

He read unshaken confidence in her eyes and it cost him a stern effort to refrain from reckless speech. Muriel was beautiful, but that was not all: she was generous and fearless, a loyal friend and a staunch partizan.

"Well," Prescott confessed, "when I explained, I was more afraid of you than of Jernyngham. I wanted to keep your good opinion, and I wondered whether you had only given it to me because you thought I was Cyril Jernyngham. From your friends' point of view Jack Prescott is a very different kind of person."

Muriel blushed.

"Is it unpardonable that I was angry when I first found out the mistake?

Try to imagine with what ideas I have been brought up. But the feeling left me when I saw how merciless Jernyngham was; his hard words turned it into sympathy."

"That is something to be thankful for, though it doesn't content me. I think you would be sorry for any one, even an enemy, who was in trouble and getting hurt."

She grasped his meaning and looked at him steadily with an air of pride.

"Then must I tell you that I have as much faith in Jack Prescott as I had in the man whom I supposed to be Cyril Jernyngham? But you must justify my confidence. You have been wrongly and cruelly accused; don't you see the duty that lies on you?"

"Yes," Prescott answered gravely; "I have to clear myself. If there were no other reason than the one you have given, it would have to be done.

It's going to be a tough proposition, but I'll get about it very soon."

"You know that I wish you all success," she told him softly.

Then she held out her hand and turned away. When she had gone Prescott went on with his work and after buckling the last strap he found that he had forgotten a parcel Mrs. Leslie had asked him to deliver. Hurrying back to the house for it, he met Gertrude Jernyngham in the hall and she stopped where the light fell on her, instead of avoiding him as he had expected. There was suspicion in her eyes.

"I see you agree with your father," he said boldly.

"Yes," she replied in a scornful tone. "You can pose rather cleverly--you tricked me into trusting you, but your ability is limited, after all.

When the strain comes, you break down. Could anything have been feebler than the defense you made?"

"It was pretty lame, but every word was true."

"Oh," she cried with disgust and impatience, "one wouldn't expect you to say it was false! You don't seem to have anything more convincing to add."

"I'm going to add nothing. It isn't very long since you were willing to take my word."

"I'm afraid I was easily deceived," Gertrude said bitterly. "I didn't know you had twice pa.s.sed yourself off as my brother, and you can't complain if we see an obvious motive for your doing so the second time."

"You mean that I stole the price of Cyril's land?" Prescott asked sternly.

"Yes," she said, watching him with cruel eyes. "That, however, is not the worst." She struggled with rising pa.s.sion before she resumed: "I believe----"

Prescott raised his hand commandingly.

"Stop! I'm going away to find your brother."

"One can understand your going away!" she flung back at him as she pa.s.sed on down the hall.

Prescott drove home at a reckless pace. Facing the situation boldly, he recognized that the outlook was very dark.

CHAPTER XII

PRESCOTT'S FLIGHT

Two days after the arrival of the Colstons, Gertrude Jernyngham walked down the trail from the Leslie homestead in a very bitter mood. During the last few weeks her cold nature had kindled into sudden warmth; love had most unexpectedly crept into her heart. At first she had struggled against and been ashamed of it, for its object was a man beneath her in rank and of widely different mode of thought; but by degrees the judgment she had hitherto exercised had given place to pa.s.sion. After the narrow, conventional life she had led, there was a strange exhilaration and excitement in yielding to her impulses; the virility of Prescott's character and his physical perfection stirred her. She desired him and had boldly used such charms as she possessed in his subjugation. Misled by his gentleness, she imagined him responsive, and then Muriel had appeared on the scene and the truth was plain to her when she saw his face light up at sight of the girl. She had read warm love in his eager glance.

Now Gertrude was crushed and humbled. She had cheapened herself, as she thought of it, to this rancher, only to find that he preferred another.

Her punishment was severe, but she felt that it was deserved, and her ripening pa.s.sion had turned to something very much like hate. Whether he had really had any hand in her brother's death was a point she would not calmly reason out, though she had a half-conscious feeling that he could not be charged with this. She wanted to think him base: to believe in his guilt would be an excuse for making him suffer.

While she walked, she cast quick glances across the waste of gra.s.s, looking for a mounted figure that did not appear, until at last she turned with a start at the sound of footsteps as Muriel came up.

"I saw you alone and thought I would join you," Muriel said.

"It's a relief to be by oneself now and then," Gertrude answered with curt ungraciousness.

"One can understand that. I tried to give Harry a hint that our visit might be an intrusion, when he talked of joining your father; but he thought it would be some comfort for you to have your friends about you."

"He was some time in putting his idea into practise."

"We started as soon as we heard of your trouble," said Muriel. "We were in Mexico then, and as we had moved about a good deal there was some delay in our letters. Has your father decided to stay with the Leslies?"

"Yes, for a while. It was, of course, impossible for us to remain with Mr. Prescott."

"Why could you not?" Muriel asked with sparkling eyes.