Rosalind at Red Gate Part 10

It was clear that I knew more than Gillespie, but he had supplied me with several interesting bits of information, and, what was more to the point, he had confirmed my belief that Henry Holbrook and the canoe-maker were the same person.

"You must see that I face a difficult situation here, without counting you. You don't strike me as a wholly bad lot, Gillespie, and why won't you run along like a good boy and let me deal with Holbrook? Then when I have settled with him I'll see what can be done for you. Your position as an unwelcome suitor, engaged in annoying the lady you profess to love, and causing her great anxiety and distress, is unworthy of the really good fellow I believe you to be."

He was silent for a moment; then he spoke very soberly.

"I promise you, Donovan, that I will do nothing to encourage or help Holbrook. I know as well as you that he's a blackguard; but my own affairs I must manage in my own way."

"But as surely as you try to molest those women you will have to answer to me. I am not in the habit of beginning what I never finish, and I intend to keep those women out of your way as well as out of Holbrook's clutches, and if you get a cracked head in the business--well, the crack's in your own skull, Mr. Gillespie."

He shrugged his shoulders, threw up his head and turned away down the road.

There was something about the fellow that I liked. I even felt a certain pity for him as I pa.s.sed him and rode on. He seemed simple and guileless, but with a dogged manliness beneath his absurdities. He was undoubtedly deeply attached to Helen Holbrook and his pursuit of her partook of a knight-errantish quality that would have appealed to me in other circ.u.mstances; but he was the most negligible figure that had yet appeared in the Holbrook affair, and as I put my horse to the lope my thoughts reverted to Red Gate. That chess game and Helen's visit to her father were still to be explained; if I could cut those cards out of the pack I should be ready for something really difficult. I employed myself with such reflections as I completed my sweep round the lake, reaching Glenarm shortly after two o'clock.

I was hot and hungry, and grateful for the cool breath of the house as I entered the hall.

"Miss Holbrook is waiting in the library," Ijima announced; and in a moment I faced Miss Pat, who stood in one of the open French windows looking out upon the wood.

She appeared to be deeply absorbed and did not turn until I spoke.

"I have waited for some time; I have something of importance to tell you, Mr. Donovan," she began, seating herself.

"Yes, Miss Holbrook."

"You remember that this morning, on our way to the chapel, Helen spoke of our game of chess yesterday?"

"I remember perfectly," I replied; and my heart began to pound suddenly, for I knew what the next sentence would be.

"Helen was not at St. Agatha's at the time she indicated."

"Well, Miss Pat," I laughed, "Miss Holbrook doesn't have to account to me for her movements. It isn't important--"

"Why isn't it important?" demanded Miss Pat in a sharp tone that was new to me. She regarded me severely, and as I blinked under her scrutiny she smiled a little at my discomfiture.

"Why, Miss Holbrook, she is not accountable to me for her actions. If she fibbed about the chess it's a small matter."

"Perhaps it is; and possibly she is not accountable to me, either."

"We must not probe human motives too deeply, Miss Holbrook," I said evasively, wis.h.i.+ng to allay her suspicions, if possible. "A young woman is ent.i.tled to her whims. But now that you have told me this, I suppose I may as well know how she accounted to you for this trifling deception."

"Oh, she said she wished to explore the country for herself; she wished to satisfy herself of our safety; and she didn't want you to think she was running foolishly into danger. She chafes under restraint, and I fear does not wholly sympathize with my runaway tactics. She likes a contest! And sometimes Helen takes pleasure in--in--being perverse.

She has an idea, Mr. Donovan, that you are a very severe person."

"I am honored that she should entertain any opinion of me whatever," I replied, laughing.

"And now," said Miss Pat, "I must go back. Helen went to her room to write some letters against a time when it may be possible to communicate with our friends, and I took the opportunity to call on you. It might be as well, Mr. Donovan, not to mention my visit."

I walked beside Miss Pat to the gate, where she dismissed me, remarking that she would be quite ready for a ride in the launch at five o'clock.

The morning had added a few new-colored threads to the tangled skein I was acc.u.mulating, but I felt that with the chess story explained I could safely eliminate the supernatural; and I was relieved to find that no matter what other odd elements I had to reckon with, a girl who could be in two places at the same time was not among them.

Holbrook had not impressed me disagreeably; he had treated me rather decently, all things considered. The fact that he had enemies who were trying to kill him added zest to the whole adventure upon which my clerical friend Stoddard had launched me. The Italian sailor was a long way from tide-water, and who his employer was--the person who had hung aloof so conservatively during my scramble on the deck of the house-boat--remained to be seen. From every standpoint the Holbrook incident promised well, and I was glad to find that human beings were still capable of interesting me so much.

CHAPTER VII

A BROKEN OAR

We are in love's land to-day; Where shall we go?

Love, shall we start or stay, Or sail or row?

There's many a wind and way, And never a May but May; We are in love's hand to-day; Where shall we go?

--_Swinburne_.

The white clouds of the later afternoon cruised dreamily between green wood and blue sky. I brought the launch to St. Agatha's landing and embarked the two exiles without incident. We set forth in good spirits, Ijima at the engine and I at the wheel. The launch was comfortably large, and the bright cus.h.i.+ons, with Miss Pat's white parasol and Helen's red one, marked us with the accent of Venice. I drove the boat toward the open to guard against unfortunate encounters, and the course once established I had little care but to give a wide berth to all the other craft afloat. Helen exclaimed repeatedly upon the beauty of the lake, which the west wind rippled into many variations of color. I was flattered by her friendliness; and yielded myself to the joy of the day, agreeably thrilled--I confess as much--by her dark loveliness as she turned from time to time to speak to me.

Snowy sails stood forth upon the water like listless clouds; paddles flashed as they rose dripping and caught the sun; and the lake's wooded margins gave green horizons, cool and soothing to the eye, on every hand. One of the lake steamers on its incessant journeys created a little sea for us, but without disturbing my pa.s.sengers.

"Aunt Pat is a famous sailor!" observed Helen as the launch rocked.

"The last time we crossed the captain had personally to take her below during a hurricane."

"Helen always likes to make a heroine of me," said Miss Pat with her adorable smile. "But I am not in the least afraid on the water. I think there must have been sailors among my ancestors."

She was as tranquil as the day. Her att.i.tude toward her niece had not changed; and I pleased myself with the reflection that mere ancestry--the vigor and courage of indomitable old sea lords--did not sufficiently account for her, but that she testified to an ampler background of race and was a fine flower that had been centuries in making.

We cruised the sh.o.r.e of Port Annandale at a discreet distance and then bore off again.

"Let us not go too near sh.o.r.e anywhere," said Helen; and Miss Pat murmured acquiescence.

"No; we don't care to meet people," she remarked, a trifle anxiously.

"I'm afraid I don't know any to introduce you to," I replied, and turned away into the broadest part of the lake. The launch was capable of a lively clip and the engine worked capitally. I had no fear of being caught, even if we should be pursued, and this, in the broad light of the peaceful Sabbath afternoon, seemed the remotest possibility.

It had been understood that we were to remain out until the sun dropped into the western wood, and I loitered on toward the upper lake where the sh.o.r.es were rougher.

"That's a real island over there--they call it Battle Orchard--you must have a glimpse of it."

"Oh, nothing is so delightful as an island!" exclaimed Helen; and she quoted William Sharp's lines:

"There is an Isle beyond our ken, Haunted by Dreams of weary men.

Gray Hopes enshadow it with wings Weary with burdens of old things: There the insatiate water-springs Rise with the tears of all who weep: And deep within it,--deep, oh, deep!-- The furtive voice of Sorrow sings.

There evermore, Till Time be o'er, Sad, oh, so sad! the Dreams of men Drift through the Isle beyond our ken."

Ijima had scanned the lake constantly since we started, as was his habit. Miss Pat turned to speak to Helen of the sh.o.r.e that now swept away from us in broader curves as we pa.s.sed out of the connecting channel into the farther lake. Ijima remarked to me quietly, as though speaking of the engine:

"There's a man following in a rowboat.",