Vane of the Timberlands Part 51

Nairn regarded him with carefully suppressed curiosity.

"Ye're over lang in coming," he remarked. "Where left ye your partner?"

Carroll sat silent a moment or two, his eyes fixed on Evelyn. It was evident that his sudden appearance unaccompanied by Vane, which he felt had been undesirably dramatic, had alarmed her. At first, he felt compa.s.sionate, and then he was suddenly possessed by hot indignation.

This girl, with her narrow prudish notions and dispa.s.sionate nature, had presumed to condemn his comrade, unheard, for an imaginary offense. The thing was at once ludicrous and intolerable; if his news brought her dismay, let her suffer. His nerves, it must be remembered, were not in their normal condition.

"Yes," he said, in answer to his host's first remark; "I've gathered that we have failed to save the situation. But I don't know exactly what has happened. You had better tell me."

Mrs. Nairn made a sign of protest, but her husband glanced at her restrainingly.

"Ye will hear his news in good time," he informed her, and then turned to Carroll. "In a few words, the capital was no subscribed--it leaked out that the ore was running poor--and we held an emergency meeting. With Vane away, I could put no confidence into the shareholders--they were anxious to get from under--and Horsfield brought forward an amalgamation scheme: A combine would take the property over, on their valuation. I and a few others were outvoted; the scheme went through; and when the announcement steadied the stock, which had been tumbling down, I exercised the authority given me and sold your shares and Vane's at considerably less than their face value. Ye can have particulars later.

What I have to ask now is--where is Vane?"

The man's voice grew sharp; the question was flung out like an accusation; but Carroll still looked at Evelyn. He felt very bitter against her; he would not soften the blow.

"I left him in the bush, with no more than a few days' provisions and a broken leg," he announced.

Then, in spite of Evelyn's efforts to retain her composure, her face blanched. Carroll's anger vanished, because the truth was clear. Vane had triumphed through disaster; his peril and ruin had swept his offenses away. The girl, who had condemned him in his prosperity, would not turn from him in misfortune. In the meanwhile the others sat silent, gazing at the bearer of evil news, until he spoke again.

"I want a tug to take me back, at once, if she can be got. I'll pick up a few men along the waterfront."

Nairn rose and went out of the room. The tinkle of a telephone bell reached those who remained, and a minute or two later he came back.

"I've sent Whitney round," he explained. "He'll come across if there's a boat to be had, and now ye look as if ye needed lunch."

"It's several weeks since I had one," Carroll smiled.

The meal was brought in, but for a while he talked as well as ate, relating his adventures in somewhat disjointed fragments, while the others sat listening eagerly. He was also pleased to notice something which suggested returning confidence in him in Evelyn's intent eyes as the tale proceeded. When at last he had made the matter clear, he added:

"If I keep you waiting, you'll excuse me."

His hostess watched his subsequent efforts with candid approval, and looking up once or twice, he saw sympathy in the girl's face, instead of the astonishment or disgust he had half expected. When he finished, his hostess rose and Carroll stood up, but Nairn motioned to him to resume his place.

"I'm thinking ye had better sit still a while and smoke," he said.

Carroll was glad to do so, and they conferred together until Nairn was called to the telephone.

"Ye can have the Brod.i.c.k boat at noon to-morrow," he reported on his return.

"That won't do," Carroll objected heavily. "Send Whitney round again; I must sail to-night."

He had some difficulty in getting out the words, and when he rose his eyes were half closed. Walking unsteadily, he crossed the room and sank onto a big lounge.

"I think," he added, "if you don't mind, I'll go to sleep."

Nairn merely nodded, and when he went silently out of the room a minute or two afterward, the worn-out man was already wrapped in profound slumber. Nairn just then received another call by telephone and left in haste for his office without speaking to his wife, with the result that Mrs. Nairn and Evelyn, returning to the room in search of Carroll, found him lying still. The elder lady raised her hand in warning as she bent over the sleeper, and then taking up a light rug spread it gently over him. Evelyn, too, was stirred to sudden pity, for the man's att.i.tude was eloquent of exhaustion. They withdrew softly and had reached the corridor outside when Mrs. Nairn turned to the girl.

"When he first came in, ye blamed that man for deserting his partner," she said.

Evelyn confessed it and her hostess smiled meaningly.

"Are ye no rather too ready to blame?"

"I'm afraid I am," Evelyn admitted, with the color creeping into her face as she remembered another instance in which she had condemned a man hastily.

"In this case, ye were very foolish. The man came down for help, and if he could no get it, he would go back his lone, if all the way was barred with ice and he must walk on his naked feet. Love of woman's strong and the fear of death is keen, but ye will find now and then a faith between man and man that neither would sever." She paused and looked at the girl fixedly as she asked: "What of him that could inspire it?"

Evelyn did not answer. She had never seen her hostess in this mood, and she also was stirred; but the elder lady went on again:

"The virtue of a gift lies in part, but no altogether, with the giver.

Whiles, it may be bestowed unworthily, but I'm thinking it's no often.

The bond that will drag Carroll back to the North again, to his death, if need be, has no been spun from nothing."

Evelyn had no doubt that Mrs. Nairn was right. Loyalty, most often, demanded a worthy object to tender service to; it sprang from implicit confidence, mutual respect and strong appreciation. It was not without a reason that Vane had inspired it in his comrade's breast; and this was the man she had condemned. That fact, however, was by comparison a very minor trouble. Vane was lying, helpless and alone, in the snowy wilderness, in peril of his life; and she knew that she loved him. She realized now, when it might be too late, that had he in reality been stained with dishonor, she could have forgiven him. Indeed, it had only been by a painful effort that she had maintained some show of composure since Carroll had brought the disastrous news, and she felt that she could not keep it up much longer.

What she said to Mrs. Nairn she could not remember, but escaping from her she retired to her own room, to lie still and grapple with an agony of fear and contrition.

It was two hours later when she went down and found Carroll, who still looked drowsy, about to go out. His hostess had left him for a moment in the hall, and meeting the girl's eyes, he smiled at her rea.s.suringly.

"Don't be anxious. I'll bring him back," he said.

Then Mrs. Nairn appeared and in a few moments Carroll left without another word to Evelyn. She did not ask herself why he had taken it for granted that she would be anxious; she was beyond any petty regard for appearances then. It was consoling to remember that he was Vane's tried comrade; a man who kept his word.

CHAPTER XXIX

JESSY'S CONTRITION

After leaving Mrs. Nairn, Carroll walked toward Horsfield's residence in a thoughtful mood, because he felt it inc.u.mbent upon him to play a part he was not particularly fitted for in a somewhat delicate matter.

Uncongenial as his task was, it was one that could not be left to Vane, who was even less to be trusted with the handling of such affairs; and Carroll had resolved, as he would have described it, to straighten out things.

His partner had somehow offended Evelyn, and though she was now obviously disposed to forgive him, the recollection of his supposit.i.tious iniquity might afterward rankle in her mind. Though Vane was innocent of any conduct to which she could with reason take exception, it was first of all needful to ascertain the exact nature of the charge against him.

Carroll, who for several reasons had preferred not to press this question upon Evelyn, had a strong suspicion that Jessy Horsfield was at the bottom of the trouble. There was also one clue to follow--Vane had paid the rent of Celia Hartley's shack, and he wondered whether Jessy could by any means have heard of it. If she had done so, the matter would be simplified, for he had a profound distrust of her. A recent action of hers was, he thought, sufficient to justify this att.i.tude.

He found her at home, reclining gracefully in an easy-chair in her drawing-room, and though she did not seem astonished to see him, he fancied that her expression hinted at suppressed concern.

"I heard that you had arrived alone, and I intended to make inquiries from Mrs. Nairn as soon as I thought she would be at liberty," she informed him.

Carroll had found the direct attack effective in Evelyn's case, and he determined to try it again.

"Then," he declared, "it says a good deal for your courage."

He never doubted that she possessed courage, and she displayed it now.

"So," she said calmly, "you have come as an enemy."