To The West Part 11

"Yes, I think in one of the Government offices," he continued, while I glanced now at Mrs John, whose face was full of the lines caused by her thoughts.

As she met my eyes, she gave me a piteous look, and shook her head sadly, as if saying something by way of warning.

"Yes, I think decidedly one of the Government offices, my dear, but which?"

As he spoke he raised his eyes and looked at Mrs John, who met his gaze with one so full of loving tenderness that it impressed me, and the more that I saw what a change took place directly in Mr John's countenance, ending by his looking down at the letter he held in his hand.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "what a miserable dreamer I am! Always the same!

Mayne, my boy," he added, piteously, "you must not listen to me. I cannot even help myself, and here am I talking to you in this vain, foolish way."

He let his head drop into his hands, and sat bent down till Mrs John went to his side.

"Don't give way," I heard her whisper; "it was your good heart that spoke."

"My good heart," he said piteously--"no, my weak, foolish, dreaming brain. It was always so, and I have brought you down to poverty like this."

She bent lower, and whispered a few words which seemed quite to transform him.

"Yes," he cried, with his face flus.h.i.+ng, "I am always ungrateful, and letting present troubles set benefits aside. Mayne, my boy, I wanted you to come and see us. I told you that we were going abroad--for my wife's health--I might say for my own," he added, with a smile, "for I am no use here in England."

"And you are going, sir?" I said, glad to find that the conversation was changing.

"Yes; to join my dear wife's brother. He has sent us an invitation. He thinks I might like the life out there, and he is sure that it will give renewed health to his sister."

"I am very glad, sir," I said, holding out my hands to both, "and--very sorry."

"To lose _us_," said Mr John. "Yes; now we are getting to know each other so well, it will be painful."

"Are you going to Canada, sir?" I said, hastily, for the idea of losing almost my only friends chilled me.

"To Canada first, then on by slow degrees to the great North-West. My brother-in-law--did I not tell you?"

I shook my head.

"He is in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, chief at one of their stations in British Columbia."

"British Columbia!" I exclaimed.

"Yes. What do you know of the country?"

"Nothing, sir, only that one of Mr Dempster's men has a brother there.

But it is a rough place, wild, and there are forests. Mrs John could not go there."

"No place could be rough or wild to me, Mayne," she said, smiling, "if I could find health and strength."

"And you will there, dear," cried Mr John excitedly. "Your brother says the country is lovely, and that the slow waggon journey across, though rough, will be invigorating. It will take many months, Mayne,"

he continued, speaking as eagerly and joyfully as a boy preparing for a holiday, "but my brother-in-law has sent us ample for our expenses, and he tells us to take our time, and once there I shall easily be able to repay him, either by a.s.sisting him, or by means of a farm. Alexes, my darling, I feel now that nature meant me for a farmer, and at last I am going to succeed."

"Nature meant you, John," she replied, with a look of pride at him, "for what you are, what you always have been, and will be."

"A poor dreamer?"

"No, my dear husband--a gentleman."

"I thought I was sorry as well as glad," I said, after a pause. "I am now very glad. When do you go?"

"As soon as we can make all the arrangements," said Mr John.

"But you cannot journey in a waggon by yourselves."

"We cannot?"

"No, sir; you must join a party--quite a caravan."

"That is what Dan said in the letter, dear," said Mrs John.

"Of course. My head is in such a whirl. I had forgotten--but you, Mayne, you talk as if you understand all this."

"I have beard, sir," I said, colouring a little; "that is all."

"But you, my boy?--we can't go and leave you in distress, and without an engagement."

He whispered something to her.

"I had thought the same," she said, gently; "but I did not think it right to propose it."

"Not if he could do better here," cried Mr John, excitedly. "Mayne, my boy, we have only known each other a few months, but it has been enough to make me understand you. My wife will vouch for me. It seems to me that you are alone, an orphan without a chance of raising yourself here: will you come with us to try your fortune in the new land?"

"Would you take me with you?" I cried, excitedly.

"Take you, my boy?" he cried, "gladly; but, Alexes, speak for me, dear.

I am so p.r.o.ne to let heart master judgment. Should I be doing right?

Should I be doing right?"

There was a silence in the little room which lasted for some minutes, and during that time the shouts of a party of lads engaged in some sport came ringing through the window.

"Yes," cried Mr John, "you hear that--boys at play! It seems to me that our young friend here should be engaged as they are, and not be called upon to enter into the struggle for life away in some wild country."

"But I have been at work now for years, Mr John," I said.

"Yes, my lad, I know, and I want to help you; but misfortune has so marked me for her own that I seem now to have lost all faith in myself."

"Have you no relatives, Mayne?" said Mrs John, gravely. "There are people who could help you to some engagement?"

I shook my head.

"None that I know of," I said.