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The Lady of Big Shanty Part 17

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"Yes--Sam--but lonely."

In the twilight the great brook boiled below them.

"It ain't so lonely," remarked Holcomb pleasantly, turning to Mrs.

Thayor, "when the sun is s.h.i.+ning." He had dropped into his native dialect, which now and then cropped out in his speech.

"I suppose it _ain't_," said Alice in a whisper to Margaret. The girl touched her mother's arm pleadingly.

"Please don't," she said; "he might hear you. It really isn't kind in you, mother. You know they speak so differently in the country."

Holcomb had heard it, but not a muscle twitched in resentment. He tightened the reins, and for a mile drove in silence.

"And this is the man your father lunched with at The Players,"

continued Alice under her breath.

Margaret did not reply.

Presently they came out into the valley at the head of the Deadwater, still as ink, reflecting the barkless trees it had killed so clearly that it was difficult to see the point of immersion. Then the plain gabled roof of Morrison's came into view above a flat of young poplars, the silver leaves s.h.i.+vering in the breeze.

Morrison, who had been sweeping off his narrow porch, in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, came out into the road at the rapid approach of the buckboard.

"h.e.l.lo thar!" he shouted, and Holcomb stopped at an insistent gesture from the proprietor.

"Hain't seen nothin' of a barril of kerosene fer me down thar, hev ye?" he asked. "Gosh durn it!--it oughter been here more'n a week ago."

"Nothing there for you. Jimmy's coming along with the trunks," replied Holcomb. "He won't start before the freight gets in."

"Evenin', Mr. Thayor," said Morrison. "Wall, ye've got 'em all here now, haven't ye?" he remarked, running his shrewd eyes over the filled seats.

"Mrs. Thayor and my daughter, Mr. Morrison," said Thayor.

"Pleased to meet you, marm." Morrison raised his hat and stretched out a coa.r.s.e red hand. Alice extended three fingers of her own despite her repulsion. There was really no other way out of it. "And here's the little gal, I 'spose," continued the proprietor. Margaret laughed as she shook hands. "Won't ye stop and take something, friend?" he asked Blakeman. Blakeman raised his eyebrows in protest.

"_Mon Dieu!_" whispered Annette.

"Relations of yourn, Mrs. Thayor?" asked Morrison, noticing Annette's embarra.s.sment.

Alice straightened. "My maid!" she said stiffly.

"Wall, I'm sorry none of ye ain't dry," said Morrison.

"No, thank you," replied Thayor; "we must be getting up to camp."

Again the bays fell into a brisk trot.

Alice was furious.

"Who is that dreadful person, Sam?" she asked.

"You must not mind him, Alice. He meant well enough," explained her husband. "Morrison's rough, I'll grant you, but he's a good fellow at heart."

"It was only his way," added Holcomb. "He didn't mean to be impolite, Mrs. Thayor."

"Of course he didn't, mother," added Margaret with a glance at Holcomb.

The bays turned suddenly to the left into the new road. Alice emitted a sigh of relief. There was a sense of luxury--of exclusiveness--in pa.s.sing over its smooth surface. Morrison and his common hotel, with its blear-eyed windows, were now well out of sight. Presently the camp lay ahead of them--an orderly settlement of trim buildings. Margaret was too excited to do more than gaze ahead of her with eager interest.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Thayor. "There, Alice, you can thank Mr.

Holcomb for all you see; I really had nothing to do with it."

His wife did not reply. Only Margaret's eyes met his own--a pair of brown eyes that seemed to be half suns.h.i.+ne and half tears.

As they drew up to the wide veranda of the camp, the trapper and the Clown came slowly across the compound to meet them; at the heels of the trapper stalked the old dog, watching the new arrivals with a certain dignified interest.

There was nothing strange in the fact that when Alice Thayor saw Big Shanty Camp she made no comment. It was a bitter disappointment to Thayor, yet he knew in his heart that he could not have expected her to do otherwise. Having reached her exile she had been careful to conceal any outward expression of her approval or dislike. Had the camp at that moment been filled with a jolly house-party, including Dr. Sperry, she could have been content to romp in a fas.h.i.+onable way within it for a week--even a fortnight. It was the thought that it was her home--a home which she had tried to evade and had been brought to bodily in the end--that rankled in her heart. She retired early, but could not sleep. She lay in bed for an hour or more, turning over in her mind the situation. The realization of her defeat stirred within her the old dominant spirit. She realized that her imprisonment had begun. After half an hour more of restless thinking she crept out of bed, tucked her feet into a pair of slippers, drew a silk wrapper about her and crossed to the open window. Leaning with her elbows upon its sill she stood for a long time gazing out over the wilderness.

The night was mild and hushed. It was almost certain that with dawn would come a downpour of rain; the tree-toads already heralded the good news. The dry hemlocks whispered it. Bathed in a gauze of moonlight the forest rolled away--silent--mighty in its expanse--promising nothing. Big Shanty Brook gleamed defiantly past in a riot of rapids and whirlpools. Flas.h.i.+ng in the crisp sunlight, these rapids and whirlpools shone in inviting splendour; at night they became terrible.

It was this torrent that swept below the woman leaning on the window sill; it mocked her, roaring with joy, chuckling to itself at the prisoner, every leaping crest in the chaos of foam rearing again for a last glimpse of the exile, and, having seen, dashed on to give place to those who followed. Little waves fawned by, partisans in the same mockery.

Suddenly she buried her face in her ringless hands:

"My G.o.d--I can't stand this!" she moaned. "I can't and I won't!" she muttered helplessly. Then she broke into hysterical sobbing, pressing her nails into the sensitive flesh of her temples; her lips trembling in a nervous chill. Her body grew cold, chilling even her bare feet thrust deep in her slippers. The torrent of Big Shanty became to her a jeering crowd, unlimitless--that poured from nowhere and dashed on into the unknown. She shut her eyes tight. In the darkness now she saw only Sperry; she saw him plainly--close to her, as one sees a face in a dream. She felt the idle, comforting tone of his voice--the warm pressure of his hand--and with her mental vision, looked into his eyes.

"Be patient, dear friend," he said to her quite clearly. Could she have looked on Sperry at that moment she would have found him playing billiards at his club, his whole mind occupied in making a difficult carom shot. When he made it he ordered a fresh brandy and soda.

The roar of Big Shanty continued. An owl screamed hoa.r.s.ely from somewhere in the timber below. Alice shuddered, her cheeks burning against the palms of her cold hands, and crept back to bed.

Margaret, too, had been gazing out of her window. Big Shanty to her meant a new life--she, too, had been crying, but from sheer happiness.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Some mornings after Alice's arrival--she had spent most of the hours in her room in the interim--she came gaily into the room where her husband and Margaret were at breakfast, her face all smiles, her figure clothed in a jaunty walking dress which fitted her to perfection. Thayor looked up from his coffee and bacon; he thought he had never seen her look so pretty.

"Why, Alice!" he exclaimed, all his love for her in his eyes.

"Yes--I don't wonder you are astonished," she said, regarding them both mischievously. "The day is too glorious to breakfast in bed; besides, I've slept like a top. Sam, the camp is exceedingly pretty,"

she went on, as Blakeman ceremoniously pushed a chair beneath her and hurriedly laid the unexpected cover.

"And now may I ask where you two gad-abouts are going?" she inquired, noticing Margaret's short skirt and Sam in a pair of stout tramping boots.

"To a pond, mother--the nearest, I believe. Think of it--we have four of them," announced Margaret proudly.

"Then I'm going too," declared her mother.

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The Lady of Big Shanty Part 17 summary

You're reading The Lady of Big Shanty. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Frank Berkeley Smith. Already has 616 views.

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