Prescott of Saskatchewan Part 54

"Then I'm glad to say that, as I half expected, we have got the fellow; corralled him for horse-stealing a while ago, and he'll be charged with robbing you in due time. But go on."

"I felt horribly thirsty, and crawling to the edge of the sloo, tumbled in. There was more slime than water, but I could see a cleaner pool some way out, and being up to my knees already, I tried to reach it. It was hardly fit to drink, but I felt better and clearer-headed after swallowing some; and then I noticed thick gra.s.s in front of me. This implied that the swamp was shallower there and I made for the other bank, instead of going back. The gra.s.s and reeds that I disturbed would soon straighten, which accounts for your losing my tracks. You wouldn't have expected me to wade across the muskeg?"

"No," admitted Curtis; "I didn't."

"Why did you not return to Sebastian after being robbed of your horse and money?" Jernyngham asked.

"Ah!" said Cyril with some constraint in his manner, "that's more difficult to explain. To some extent it was a matter of temperament. I had left the settlement after a painful and rather humiliating discovery; you can understand that I was anxious to avoid my neighbors. Then I'd been knocked out and robbed by the first rascal I fell in with. I hadn't the courage to crawl back in my battered state and face the boys'

amus.e.m.e.nt; and there was something that appealed to me in the thought of cutting loose and going on without a dollar, to see what I could do." He smiled at his father and sister. "You know I had always rather eccentric ideas."

Then he recounted his adventures along the railroad under the name of Kermode, until Prescott interrupted him.

"I followed you to the abandoned claim in the mountains, where I had to give it up. How did you make out after you struck south with the prospector crank?"

"That was the most interesting part of the trip, but I could hardly describe it. We crawled up icy rocks, found a river we could travel on here and there, scrambled through brush that ripped our clothes and over stones that cut our boots to bits, and finally came down by Quesnelle to the Canadian Pacific main track."

"Loaded with worthless mineral specimens?"

Cyril laughed.

"They were pretty heavy, Jack. Once or twice I thought of dumping my share of them, but it's fortunate that Hollin, who seemed to suspect my intentions, kept his eye on me when I got played out. You see, an a.s.sayer we took them to found that they were rich in lead and silver."

Prescott's astonishment was obvious and Cyril frankly enjoyed it.

"Well," he said, "the end of it was that I called on some of the mining people in Vancouver--it seems they knew Hollin and had had enough of him--but I left one office with a check for a thousand dollars, besides retaining an interest in the claim. Hollin has gone back to see about its development."

His father and sister looked as surprised as Prescott. One could imagine that they found it difficult to conceive of Cyril's financial success, but they offered him their congratulations, and soon afterward Curtis took his leave. Prescott stayed another hour, and when he went Muriel walked to the door with him.

"Jack," she murmured, with her head on his shoulder, "I'm inexpressibly glad it has all come right; but you must remember that I knew it would."

Prescott gently turned her face toward him.

"I'm so thankful that it makes me grave. It's a pretty big task to repay your confidence, but I'll try."

"You'll succeed," she said smiling. "You're rather a determined man and I'm not dreadfully exacting; I couldn't be to you."

Prescott drove off, grateful for Mrs. Colston's permission to come back the next day.

When he drove up on the following afternoon, he found Muriel dressed in furs.

"It's beautifully fine and you may take me for a drive," she said, and added with a smile: "That is, unless you would rather talk to Harry."

"I think Colston and I are going to be good friends, but I didn't come over to see him," Prescott retorted lightly. "I have something to say to Cyril, but it will do when we get back."

"You can't see him now," said Muriel, moving toward the sleigh. "He's engaged with Gertrude and his father, and I think they have something important to talk about. Cyril looked very serious, and one would imagine that's not often the case with him."

Prescott laughed as he helped her in.

"I dare say he has his thoughtful moments; it would be surprising if he hadn't, considering his capacity for getting into sc.r.a.pes."

They drove away, but Muriel's supposition was well founded, for Cyril was feeling unusually grave as he sat opposite to his father and sister in a room of the homestead. A brief silence had fallen upon the group, emphasized by the crackle of poplar billets in the stove. Jernyngham, in whose appearance there had been a marked improvement since his son's return, wore an eager expression; Gertrude was watching her brother with troubled eyes.

"You have heard my suggestions about your return to England," Jernyngham said at length. "I think they are fair."

"They are generous," Cyril answered, and added slowly: "But I cannot go."

Jernyngham leaned back in his chair as if he were weary, with keen disappointment in his face.

"I have no other son, Cyril. We will wipe out the past--there is something to regret on both sides--and try to make everything pleasant for you. I feel that you ought to come."

"No," Cyril persisted with signs of strain. "I'm strongly tempted, but it would not be wise."

Jernyngham looked hard at him and then made a sign of resignation.

"You will, at least, give us your reasons."

"I'll try, though I'm not sure you will understand them; it's unfortunate we're so different that we cannot find a common viewpoint from which to look at things. I believe I've overcome what bitterness I once felt, but in all that's essential I haven't changed. After the first few weeks, I should jar on you, or I should have to be continually on my guard, until the repression got too much for me and the inevitable outbreak came."

"Why should there be an outbreak?" his father asked with some asperity.

Cyril glanced at Gertrude, noticing her rather weary smile, and fancied that she could sympathize with him, which was more than he had expected.

She had somehow gained comprehension in Canada.

"I suppose I must explain. I'm not thinking of my worst faults, but, you see, I'm a careless trifler, impatient of restraint. To have to do things in stereotyped order distresses me; I must go where my fancy leads. When I'm cooped up and confined, I feel I must break loose, even if it leads to havoc." He laughed. "Of course, such a frame of mind is beyond your imagining."

"I must confess that it is," Jernyngham replied dryly.

Gertrude cast a half-applauding glance at her brother. With all his failings, which she recognized and deplored, Cyril was to her something of a romantic hero. He took risks, and did daring and perhaps somewhat discreditable things, but, narrow as her decorous life had been, she envied his reckless gallantry. Once she had ventured to break through the safe rules of conduct and grasp at romance, but it had eluded her and left her humiliation and regret. She must go back to the dreary routine wherein lay security, but she admired him for standing out.

"Well," said Cyril, "I'm talking at large; but we must thrash out the matter once for all. I may do something useful here--make wheat grow; perhaps help in developing the mine--which I couldn't do at home." He paused and concluded whimsically: "It's even possible that I may turn into a successful rancher."

"But that means working like an English field laborer!"

"For a higher pay. When the crop escapes drought and frost, and there's no hail or rust, western farming's fairly profitable."

"In short," said Jernyngham, "you have made up your mind not to come home with us."

"I'm sorry it is so," Cyril responded gravely. "Try to understand. If I stay here, we will be good friends and you will think well of me. If I go home there will be trouble and regret for you. I want to save you that."

"Father," Gertrude broke in softly, "though it's hard to say, I know that Cyril's right."

Jernyngham got up wearily.

"There is nothing more that I can urge. You must do as you think best, my son, but while I shall never quite grasp your point of view, you will always be in our thoughts."

They were glad to separate, for the interview had been trying to them all.

Some time had pa.s.sed when Cyril, hearing a beat of hoofs, went out and found Prescott pulling up his team.