The League of the Leopard Part 3

"He fancied that Maxwell of Culmeny closed the gap to annoy him," she explained. "Unfortunately, when tearing down the first barrier, he hurt his foot, which naturally made him more determined to maintain ancient privileges. In one way, the feud is amusing; in another, vexatious; because we are lonely here, and the Misses Maxwell cannot well call upon us. Their brother Carsluith has lately returned from Africa, and would have made you a pleasant companion."

"Carsluith Maxwell?" said Dane. "It is curious that I was of some service to a friend of his, named Hyslop, in South America. The poor fellow struck our camp pulled down by sickness and apparently in want of money, and we were able to find him employment."

"Did you not mention that the contractors would not replace the a.s.sistants who died of fever?" asked Lilian. "Did they endorse your action?"

"I can't say they did," was the answer. "They were not required to."

"Oh! Then who paid Hyslop's salary?"

"It was arranged," Dane answered ambiguously. "You see, he was a countryman; and the poor fellow died soon afterward, anyway. I think I shall walk over to Culmeny."

Lilian asked no further questions. She felt that any one in trouble could trust the man beside her. She smiled as she said:

"I am afraid that would not be judicious. Your host would consider it an act of treachery."

They went back to the house together; and in the meantime, Thomas Chatterton, who was not a skilful angler, whipped several pools unsuccessfully, hooking nothing but weeds, and once, by accident, a water hen. Thus it happened that he had not returned when darkness fell, and Mrs. Chatterton despatched Dane in search of him. The moon was rising when the latter came down a path through the fir wood and stopped beside a deep, black pool. A streak of silver light crept up to the roots of an alder beside a ruined wall, and he paused to watch the wrinkled current flash athwart it. The odors of the firs and the stillness of the night were soothing: the sacrifice he had lately made had been a heavy one. Dane had not abandoned his hopes, but knew that he might have to wait long for their consummation, if they were ever realized.

Presently there was a sound of footsteps, and Dane guessed that the approaching shape was Chatterton by the red glow of his cigar. The iron-master stopped beside the alder, and it seemed that something which caused a ripple near its roots caught his eyes. Dane suspected that some poacher had set a night line.

Now, the wall marked the boundary between Chatterton's riparian rights and those of Culmeny; and it was out of idle curiosity that Dane watched his host instead of hailing him as, first looking about him, he descended the bank and hauled in the line. An exclamation of disgust followed as a writhing eel was flung out upon the gra.s.s; but there were n.o.bler fish attached, and presently Chatterton stood up holding a splendid trout. Dane remembered that his father had sworn by Chatterton's commercial integrity, but he was not wholly astonished when the man slipped the fish, and a second one which followed it, into his creel. Then, surmising that the angler would not have desired a witness, he turned back softly and met him in the wood, flattering himself that he had arranged the meeting neatly.

"Had you any luck, sir?" he asked.

"The water was low, but here is something to convince the mockers,"

Chatterton answered, holding up a handsome trout; and Dane expressed admiration but no astonishment, which might not have been complimentary.

They walked home together, and Lilian met them in the hall. She surveyed the trout suspiciously, then laughed as she said:

"You look hot and muddy, and almost guilty. Are you quite sure you have not been poaching?"

Miss Chatterton was a shrewd young lady, and for a moment the iron-master, who had quelled several strikes unaided, looked positively uneasy.

"Young women were taught that flippancy did not become them when I was young," he rebuked.

Late that night the two men sat talking together.

"You have told me little about your affairs, Hilton," Chatterton said; "but I presume you will stay at home and put your pump on the market instead of accepting the foreign commission. There should be a good demand for it among the deep mine owners."

"I'm afraid not, sir," was the answer. "The patent lawsuit proved expensive, and to start an article of that kind successfully requires a good deal of money. I shall therefore go abroad to earn a little more as soon as the firm sends me."

"And risk your life for a thousand pounds," said Chatterton severely.

"Don't you know that there are men with money who would be willing to finance you?"

"All I have met demanded three-fourths of the possible profits in return; and this is my invention."

"It is a valuable one," declared Chatterton with unusual diffidence.

"But can't you think of anybody who would lend you the money out of good-will at a very moderate interest?"

Dane looked at the speaker steadily before he answered.

"I think I could; and I'm grateful; but unfortunately I can't bring myself to borrow money from such people. It would be abusing their kindness; and I might lose it for them."

Chatterton frowned.

"You are like your father--and as confoundedly hard to do a favor to,"

he said.

He retired shortly after this; and Dane went out into the moonlight, and leaned over the rails of a footbridge, watching the river slide past. He found a faint solace in the sounds and scents which filled the shadows, and knew that though he had taken the one course possible, if he was to retain his own self-respect and Lilian's esteem, there would be no sleep for him that night.

CHAPTER III

AT THE ELBOW POOL

While waiting for his foreign commission, Dane found the summer days slip by almost too rapidly, though there were occasions when, after a long afternoon spent in Lilian's company, he fancied he could understand the feelings of Tantallus. The girl appeared completely rea.s.sured, and treated him with sisterly cordiality, while Chatterton, who knew nothing of their compact, nodded sapiently as he observed their growing friends.h.i.+p. Dane sometimes wondered if he were not heaping up future sorrow for himself; but, with infrequent exceptions, he found the present very good, and, being a sanguine man who could wait, he made the most of it.

Lilian was troubled by no misgivings. Once, when her aunt asked a diplomatic question, she smiled frankly as she said: "Yes. I am in one way very fond of Hilton; you will remember that I always was. We understand each other thoroughly; and he is so a.s.sured and solid that one feels a restful sense of security in his company. You will remember the Highland chieftain's candlesticks--the men with the claymores and torches, Aunty. Well, I fancy that worthy gentleman must have felt the same thing when he dined in state with them about him. He had but to lift his finger and they would disappear, you know."

Mrs. Chatterton looked slightly grave as she answered: "Don't forget that they were also men with pa.s.sions, and very terrible men, sometimes--for instance, at Killiecrankie. It would not surprise me if you discovered that there is a good deal of very vigorous human nature in Hilton Dane."

Thomas Chatterton still went fis.h.i.+ng, generally with indifferent success, but once Lilian caught Dane examining his creel, which was surprisingly well filled.

"I am puzzled, Hilton," she said. "I made a wager with Uncle that he would not catch a dozen good trout in a month, and now I fancy that he will win it."

"Well?"

"Men are deceivers ever--especially when it is a question of catching fish. I have noticed that when your host goes fis.h.i.+ng by daylight he rarely catches anything but eels, which, as everybody knows, do not rise to a fly, while when he rises early or returns in the dusk he brings a really fine trout or two. I cannot, however, believe that this one died only two hours ago. Can you suggest an explanation?"

"Charity," said Dane gravely, "suspecteth nothing. Don't you know that trout rise most freely just before the dusk?"

Lilian shook her head.

"You are not sufficiently clever to set your wits against a woman's,"

she declared.

Dane laughed, a trifle grimly; and the girl, momentarily startled by something in his merriment, decided that she must have been mistaken; but she abandoned the subject with some abruptness.

That very evening, perhaps sent forth by fate, because much depended upon his fis.h.i.+ng, Thomas Chatterton took up his rod and landing net, and, as he did not return by nightfall, his wife once more despatched Dane in search of him.

"I think you know where to find him; and I wish I did, for he has only to take two more trout to win," Lilian added significantly.

Dane proceeded by the shortest way to the big elbow pool, but it was almost dark when he reached it. There had been heavy rain, and all the firs which loomed through thin white mist were dripping. The water came down beneath them thick with the peat of the moorlands in incipient flood. Dane could hear its hoa.r.s.e growl about the boulders studding the tail rapid, and surmised that there ought to be several trout on the poacher's line. Having, nevertheless, no desire to surprise his host red-handed, he did not immediately proceed toward it, but sat upon the driest stone he could find, listening for his coming. There was no sound but the clamor of the river and the heavy splas.h.i.+ng of moisture from the boughs above, some of which trickled down his neck, until he heard a rattle of falling stones, and a shadowy figure, which he guessed was Chatterton's, crawled down toward the alder roots.

A splash was followed by a hoa.r.s.e exclamation as the man slipped into the water up to the knee; then Dane heard the thud of a flung out fish, and sat very still, for it would clearly be injudicious to present himself just then. He noticed a minute twinkle of brightness among the boulders across the pool which puzzled him. It was too small for the light of a lantern, and he remembered nothing that shone in just the same fas.h.i.+on. While he wondered what it could be, another dark object rose beside the alder, gripping what looked like a heavy stick.

"I'm thinking I have ye noo!" a gruff voice exclaimed. "Ye sorrowful wastrel, stealing a puir man's fis.h.!.+"