Harding of Allenwood Part 52

"They deserved it," Lance answered in a curious tone. "It seems she got into difficulties with the police and had to leave the town; the clairvoyante business was only a blind, and somebody was robbed after gambling at her rooms. The men who made the plot took a shabby advantage of the situation."

"Do you know their names?"

"Yes," said Lance, hesitatingly. "If you don't mind, sir, I'd rather not mention them."

Mowbray looked at him keenly, and then made a sign of stern agreement.

"Perhaps that's best." He was silent for a few moments, grappling with this new pain that seared him to the heart. So Gerald had sunk to this!

"Leave the paper here, and send Beatrice to me," he said slowly.

Lance was glad to escape. He found Beatrice with her mother, and she and Mrs. Mowbray went at once to the Colonel's study.

"Your brother took some trouble to get this for you," Mowbray said, handing her the statement, which she read in silence.

"I will thank Lance; but this note really makes no difference," she declared.

"That's hard to understand."

"I had Craig's word. If I had doubted him, would I have believed this woman? But there's another matter I want to speak of. Craig didn't want me to, but he gave me permission."

Taking out the photographs Harding had shown her, she handed them to Mowbray. Mrs. Mowbray, looking over his shoulder, uttered an exclamation. The Colonel, too, was startled.

"That's Ash Garth, with Janet Harding on the steps! Where did you get them? What does it mean?"

Instead of answering, the girl glanced at her mother.

"I think it's quite plain," Mrs. Mowbray said. "Beatrice is engaged to Basil Harding's son."

"Why was I not told before?" Mowbray asked excitedly. "He's as well born as you are! Can't you see how it alters things?"

"Craig declares it makes no difference--and I'm beginning to agree with him."

"That's absurd!" Mowbray exclaimed. "False pride; mistaken sentiment! We know the advantage of springing from a good stock. Now I understand why I sometimes felt a curious sympathy with Harding, even when I hated his opinions."

"You gave us no reason to suspect it," Beatrice answered with a smile.

"Do you know his father's history?"

"Yes; but I don't know that I ought to tell it without his son's permission."

"Then we'll wait," said Beatrice. "Craig will be here soon."

Harding came in a few minutes afterward, and Mowbray, giving him a friendly greeting, handed him the letter Lance had brought, and the photographs.

"Your father was a comrade of mine," the Colonel said. "We were both stationed at an outpost in Northern India."

"Then you may be able to tell me something about his early life,"

replied Harding quietly. "It's a subject he never spoke of."

"I can do so. Are you willing that Beatrice and her mother should hear?"

"Yes; I don't wish to hide anything from them."

"Very well. Your father was an infantry captain and well thought of in his regiment. His worst faults were a quick temper and a rash impulsiveness, but he suffered for them. Before coming to India, he married beneath him, a girl of some beauty but no education. His relatives strongly opposed the match, and there was a quarrel with them.

"After a time Basil was ordered to a station where there was some European society and his wife was out of her element there. The other women of the post objected to her, and openly insulted her. Basil had one quarrel after another on her behalf, and finally, after an unusually stormy scene with the artillery major, Basil sent in his papers.

"His relatives refused to receive him, they cut off his allowance; but he clung to his wife until she died a couple years later. Then he came to Canada and vanished.

"His mother died; and one by one the others followed--all except Basil Morel, his mother's brother."

"Ah!" Beatrice interrupted.

The Colonel glanced at her a moment, and then went on:

"Morel had a very strong affection for Basil--he was his namesake and only nephew. Feeling that they had been too hard on him, Morel traced Basil in Canada, wrote him a long letter, and enclosed a draft for a thousand pounds, as part of back allowances. Basil wrote a brief and bitter note in answer, then deposited the money in a Winnipeg bank, to be given to his son after his death, on condition that the son never question where it came from. This son was by the second wife; there were no children by the first.

"Well, Basil died; the bank reported to Morel that the money had been paid to the son; and then--the old man, living alone at Ash Garth, was getting very lonely; he had time to brood over the injustice done Basil, and, before he died, he wanted to make it up to Basil's son. But the son had completely disappeared. He had left Dakota and gone to Manitoba; from there all trace of him had vanished. Morel is now a broken old man; but, because Basil and I were comrades, he confides many things to me, and I know that deep down in his heart there is still a hope that he will live long enough to find Basil's son."

The Colonel's voice was husky, and he paused a moment before he said:

"With your permission, Mr. Harding, I should like to send him a cable."

Harding nodded a.s.sent.

Beatrice was crying softly.

"Now I understand why Mr. Morel always looked so sad when I talked of the prairie," she said brokenly. "Mother, you must have known!" she added as an afterthought.

"Yes, but I didn't feel that it was my secret, dear," Mrs. Mowbray answered gently.

At the Colonel's request, Harding told them of his early life; and then he and Beatrice drove across the prairie to tell the story to Hester.

Beatrice felt that it was the girl's right to know.

Harvest came, and although the crop was lighter than he had hoped, Harding saw that he would have a satisfactory margin. It was not so with most of his neighbors, and when the strain of forced effort slackened, and the smoke of the thrasher no longer streaked the stubble, there were anxious hearts at Allenwood. Even the buoyant courage of the younger men began to sink; hitherto they had carelessly borne their private troubles, but now they felt that the settlement was in danger. Those who had never taken thought before asked what must be done, and n.o.body could tell them. Harding and his friends had a surprise to spring on their neighbors, and on Davies as well, but they waited until the time was ripe.

Then one evening Mowbray rode over to Kenwyne's homestead.

"You and Broadwood have opposed me, but I have never doubted your sincerity," he said. "In fact, since Brand has gone, I feel I'd rather trust you and Harding than the boys who have given me their thoughtless support. We are threatened with grave trouble."

"We must try to justify your belief in us, sir," said Kenwyne. "What is the trouble?"

"Carlyon, Webster, and Shepstone came to me, and confessed that they have mortgaged their farms. To make things worse, I have a letter from the man in Winnipeg they borrowed from, informing me that he would seize Gerald's land unless a large sum is paid. You must see that this means disaster to Allenwood."

Mowbray looked hara.s.sed and worn, and Kenwyne felt sorry for him.

"I suggest that you let the fellow produce his mortgages and receive him at a council meeting. The matter's of interest to everybody."

"Then you have some scheme?" Mowbray asked eagerly.