Scarlett of the Mounted Part 18

Evelyn shuddered. "I can't believe----" she began, however, incredulously.

"I will explain. Miss Durant, you have been in the district over two weeks--the district in which you know your father's interests to lie.

Yet have you been able to locate him, to obtain one satisfactory answer as to his goings and comings, his present whereabouts? Have you not invariably been put off with specious generalities--sugar-plums to soothe a wayward child? Admit that no man has said to you in definite terms, 'Yonder, on such and such a hill, is the camp of Matthew Durant.

By such and such a trail can you reach him.'"

"Yes, that is true," admitted Evelyn. "Every one puts me off. Still----"

"The reason is," Raish interrupted her, "that no one knows where, among those mountains, his prison lies. But that he is a prisoner is public property, though not a soul has had the heart to break it to you."

"How cruel to have deceived me!" Evelyn burst into a flood of tears.

"And all the time he is wondering why I don't rescue him. But with his resources what is the difficulty? Why has not he himself bought his freedom?"

"Because their price is high--it is your entire fortune--the Rainbow Mine--and your father loves you too well to subject you to poverty."

"It is like my father to put me first," sobbed Evelyn, "but doesn't he know me better? Does he for a moment think I would weigh any consideration on this earth against his safety?"

"Ah!" cried Raish, triumphantly, "I knew you were true blue. That is what I told my old friend Durant--but captivity has so preyed on his spirits that he is ill--unable to judge----"

"My father ill!" Evelyn clenched her little hands and moaned: "Oh, oh, oh! If only I could go to him!"

"Have you the courage?" questioned Raish.

"The courage!" She looked at him, amazed. "If you know how to reach him take me to him instantly!"

Raish almost laughed aloud. "Women are dead easy," he mentally reiterated, before replying: "Very good." He drew Evelyn's furs closer about her neck, protectingly. "I take you at your word. But we must invent some excuse for our going off together. We must elude pursuit.

Above all, we must get rid of your friend, the Irishman."

"I trust Sergeant Scarlett," said Evelyn.

"And so do I!" cried Raish, with a.s.sumed cordiality. "I trust that excellent young man to do his duty and win promotion at all costs. The Sergeant makes love like an Irishman, Miss Durant. Ah, I saw!" he checked her protest. "But believe me, not even for your bright eyes will he sacrifice his loyalty to the government he serves by countenancing a d.i.c.ker with the thieves, its enemies."

"Let us leave the Sergeant out of the discussion," cried Evelyn, with blazing cheeks. "What do you propose?--for by your manner I see you have some plan."

"The plan is not mine. I never should have ventured to suggest it,"

answered Raish. "It is your father's, entirely. He and I were taken prisoners together. I, as the unimportant man, financially, am used as intermediary, being sent here, on parole, to treat with you for his release. Spies are d.o.g.g.i.ng my footsteps. Meanwhile, his life is hostage, until I return with you in my charge. Your father, ever scrupulous, fearing compromising comment, were you to travel with me alone, day and night, as we shall have to do, advised----" He paused, as if delicacy made the words difficult. "Miss Durant, he wishes you to go through a form of marriage with me first."

"I marry you!" gasped Evelyn.

"As a matter of form only; to be dissolved when your father's freedom is secured."

"Never--never! It is impossible!"

"Very good. I will carry back that answer." Raish turned to go. "You send your love to him, I suppose, Miss Durant, and as he is a very sick man, good-by?"

"Stop," she commanded him. "Give me a few moments. You are _sure_ my father said that--about a marriage ceremony?"

"Aye, furthermore, he wrote it," Raish a.s.sured her. "Though to clear myself from any suspicion of interested motives I begged him to send the letter by another messenger. You should already have received it from the hand of Walter Pierce."

"Miss Durant! Where is Miss Durant? Oh, Miss Durant!" At the moment Maclane's agitated voice came toward them. As Evelyn, responding, emerged from the thicket he met her, breathlessly. Chilkat Jo, whom he had despatched to Lost Shoe Creek for Evelyn, had returned some time before to announce that he had met her by the way, but the minister, not expecting her for hours, had to be hunted up among the cabins further on, whither he had gone on some errand of mercy. "I only just heard of your arrival. How providential that you should have chosen this of all days for your expedition! A poor lad--Chilkat Joseph and I found him by the wayside--the victim, I fear, of foul play, has brought you tidings of your father." As he spoke he was hurrying her toward the spot where young Pierce lay.

"Walter Pierce--my father!" Evelyn almost shrieked in her excitement, but at a warning sign from Travers, who had followed her, controlled herself. "I have been expecting him."

"After all I fear it is too late." Maclane touched pulse and brow. "He is beyond human help. He will not speak again." Kneeling by the sled he began prayers for the pa.s.sing soul, when he was interrupted by a cry from Evelyn, as Walter's arm, which had rested loosely across his breast, fell stiffly by his side, disclosing an open letter which, as she saw immediately, was in her father's hand.

"Women are dead easy--women and parsons," chuckled Raish, who had adroitly placed the missive where Evelyn found it. Going to her where she stood, apart, reading her father's transcription of Nick's behest to Gelly, "Well," he asked, "now are you convinced?"

"One moment, please!" Without explanation to him, Evelyn ran up the hill where, international formalities complied with, under the two flags the Bully was bidding his followers farewell.

"Dear, dear Nick"--she clasped his handcuffed fists in her soft, warm palms--"you welcomed me to the district; you are my oldest friend. Tell me, when did you last see my father?"

"Lucky? Why, now come ter think of it, Lucky were here not an hour since. Fit as a fiddle, now warn't he, boys? Grand reports of the Rainbow Mine. Shovelin' out pay-dirt like greased lightnin'! Ain't thet so, boys? Sent love, of course, and he'd be in ter see yer ter-morrer.

His own words, d'ye see? Eh, boys?"

To which the boys, challenged by Nick's fiery eye, loyally responded: "Sure! Thet's what! Betcherlife!"

Evelyn looked from face to face and read that, beneath a clumsy mask, through heroic but mistaken kindness, ill news was being held back from her. "Thank you all so much," she replied, and, turning, ran downhill to rejoin Raish.

Sarah intercepted her. "Miss, I think we had ought to be getting back to camp. The orphans are behaving scandalous, getting themselves engaged three deep. I don't know as you can blame 'em, miss. I suppose it's a microbe. I myself have just refused three marriages and two guilty loves."

"I shall have to leave you to manage the orphans, Sarah." Evelyn smiled an odd smile. "I myself am going to be married and start off on a honeymoon immediately."

"You don't say, miss!" The maid raised her eyebrows. "Well, a common soldier is hardly in the same social cla.s.s as my own Scotch intended, with a literary turn and a copper proposition, but I will say that Sergeant Scarlett looks and acts quite the gentleman."

"Oh, it's not Sergeant Scarlett! It is the Mr. Travers who looked after us so civilly aboard the Skagway boat."

Sarah's eyebrow's went up further still. "Indeed, miss! He's very smart in his dress, yet--however, I suppose everything goes in a country where no one minds the clocks."

Meanwhile, with the a.s.sistance of Ikey, Maclane, having covered the funereal sled with the Stars and Stripes loaned by Gumboot Annie, drew it across to poor Walter's own side of the dividing line, that his mortal remains might rest in their native soil.

When he came to seek Evelyn, to consult her about the last rites, she met him with a strange request, to the effect that first he should unite her with all despatch and secrecy to one Mr. Horatio Travers, whom she then and there presented to him.

"My dear young lady!" The minister stared at her. "Isn't this decision very sudden? Forgive my interference, but you being alone up here, and so young----"

"I'm twenty-two," Evelyn a.s.sured him, "and that's middle-aged for a New York girl."

In spite of the bravado of her manner, her tone so wholly lacked all bridal joyousness that Maclane was impelled to draw her aside and ask: "Is this act of your own free will?"

"Heavens, yes!" she a.s.serted, confidently. "No one on earth could make me do anything I didn't choose to."

"Nevertheless," the minister demurred, "let me entreat you to defer so important a step till you can consult your father."

"It is my father's desire, expressed with an emphasis that makes it almost a command," averred Evelyn, solemnly. "And conveyed to me at the price of that poor lad's life."

Still dissatisfied, but without sufficing reason for refusing, Maclane put the usual questions to the prospective groom. As witness, Travers introduced old Blenksoe, who, having disposed of Durant, had ambled up, calling him a dear old family retainer--a lifelong friend.

"That's me," corroborated the old sinner. "Rough an' ready, but allus in it with Raish. Not only is Raish by nature and eddication fitted to adorn the proudest spear, but he's a square proposition. Ye kin safely leave it ter Raish, every time."

"Well," reluctantly the minister consented, "where is your license?"