My Brave and Gallant Gentleman Part 41

He was holding her tightly to him and did not seem to know of our presence. Our hearts were too full to remain. We turned and left them in the joy of their reborn love.

The minister, with face aglow, got into his launch, while I jumped into my rowing boat.

When I was quite a long way from the sh.o.r.e, I looked back across the water to the cottage; and there, kneeling together on their veranda steps, their arms around each other, their heads bent in prayer, I saw Andrew Clark and Margaret.

The next afternoon, Andrew called on me. He was waiting for me at the store, as Jake and I returned with two boat-loads of fresh stock which we were out receiving from the _Cloochman_.

The old fellow took me by the hand and surprised me by his smile of open friendship.

"I would ha'e come over sooner, George, but I couldna get away frae the ranch these last few days." His eyes turned humorously as he said it.

"I might ha'e run over this mornin', but Marget and me ha'e a lot o'

leaway to make up.

"Say! man,--I'll be glad if you will do what ye can to help Rita. Make your ain arrangements;--for, what suits you, suits me and Marget."

CHAPTER XVIII

A Maid, a Mood and a Song

In Golden Crescent Bay things moved quietly, almost drowsily. There were the routine of hurried work and the long spells of comparative idleness.

As for the people over the way, I saw little of them outside of business.

I had not spoken to Mary Grant since the peremptory dismissal I had received from her during her recovery from the drowning accident.

I had not acknowledged her note by a visit, as probably I should have done; but, then,--how was I to know but that the note had been sent merely as a matter of form and common courtesy? She had no reason to think me other than what I showed myself to be,--an ordinary store-clerk; and this being so she might have considered it presumptuous had I endeavoured in any way to avail myself of the advantage I had secured in being of service to her, for, despite her endeavours, she could not disguise from me,--who was in a position to judge in a moment,--that her upbringing and her education had been such as only the richest could afford and only the best families in America and Europe could command. Yet she had a dash and wayward individualism that were all her own;--savouring of the prairies and the wilder life of the West.

To me, she was still an enigma.

Mrs. Malmsbury had been making all the purchases at the store; and, naturally, conversation with her was of a strictly business order. She seldom had a word to say that was not absolutely necessary, because, from long experience, she had gathered wisdom and knew that talking begot answering and questioning, and when these answers and questions were unheard conversation was apt to become a monologue.

She had no information to impart, no reminiscences to recount, no pet theories to voice on evolution or female suffrage, no confessions or professions to make, no prophecies to advance even regarding the weather.

As for Mary Grant,--she was seldom idle. I had seen her make her own clothes, I had seen her over the washtub with her sleeves rolled up to her fair, white shoulders, I had seen her bake and houseclean; sharing the daily duties with her elderly companion.

Yet she enjoyed to the full the delights that Golden Crescent afforded.

In her spare time, she rowed on the water, bathed, roved the forests behind for wild flowers and game, read in her hammock and revelled in her music.

And she was not the only one who revelled in that glorious music, for, unknown to her, Jake and I listened with delight to her uplifting entertainment; I from the confines of my front veranda and Jake, night after night, from his favourite position on the cliffs.

He confessed to me that it was a wonderful set-off to the cravings that often beset him for the liquor which he was still fighting so n.o.bly and victoriously.

Poor old Jake! More than once I had almost been tempted to coax him to go back to his nightly libations, for, since he had begun his fight for abstinence, he seemed to be gradually going down the hill; losing weight, losing strength, losing interest in his daily pursuits, and, with it all, ageing.

The minister had noticed the change and had expressed his concern.

Rita also had talked of it to me; and her visits to the old man had become more frequent, her little attentions had grown in number and her solicitude for his bodily comfort had become almost motherly.

Rita always could manipulate Jake round her little finger. He was clay in her hands, and obeyed her even to the putting of a stocking full of hot salt round his neck one night he had a hoa.r.s.eness in his throat.

"If she ever insists on me puttin' my feet in hot-water and mustard,"

he confessed to me once, "G.o.d knows how I shall muster up the courage to refuse."

I had sent to Vancouver for the grammar-book with which I intended starting Rita's tuition, but it had only arrived,--its coming having been delayed on account of the book-sellers not having it in stock and having to fill my requirement from the East,--but I had promised Rita, much to her pleasure, that we should start in in earnest the following evening.

I had been reading in my hammock until the daylight had failed me. And now I was lying, resting and hoping that any moment Miss Grant would commence her nightly musicale.

Jake, and his dog Mike, I presumed, were already in their accustomed places, Jake smoking his pipe and Mike biting at mosquitoes and other pestiferous insects which lodged and boarded about his warm, hairy person.

The cottage door opened and our fair entertainer stepped out.

She came across the rustic bridge and made straight for my place, humming softly to herself as she sauntered along. She was hatless as usual and her hair was done up in great, wavy coils on her well-poised head. Her hands were jammed deep into the pockets of her pale-green, silk sweater-coat. She impressed me then as being at peace with the world and perfectly at ease; much more at ease than I was, for I was puzzling myself as to what her wish with me could be, unless it were regarding some groceries that she might have overlooked during the day.

She smiled as she came forward.

I rose from the hammock.

"Now, don't let me disturb you," she said. "Lie where you are.

"I shall do splendidly right here."

She sat down on the top step of the veranda and turned half round to me.

"Do you ever feel lonely, Mr. Bremner?"

"Yes!--sometimes," I answered.

"What do you do with yourself on such occasions?"

"Oh!--smoke and read chiefly."

"But,--do you ever feel as if you had to speak to a member of the opposite s.e.x near your own age,--or die?"

She was quite solemn about this, and seemed to wait anxiously as if the whole world's welfare depended on my answer.

"Sometimes!" I replied again, with a laugh.

"What do you do then?"

"I lie down and try to die."

"--and find you can't," she put in.

"Yes!"