The Girl from Keller's Part 9

Muriel looked amused. "And you imagine Helen is deficient there? Well, I suppose you don't know she's the best tennis player in the county and a daring rock-climber. Girls are taking to mountaineering now, you know.

But are you going back to the Daltons?"

Festing thought she gave him a keen glance, but answered steadily: "I am going back, but not for some time. I want to go, but it might be kinder if I kept away."

"Well, it's a very proper feeling and you're rather nice. But you talked about going to see the mountains for a few days. When do you start?"

"I don't know yet. Everything here is so charming, and I'm getting the habit of lazy enjoyment. It will need an effort to go away."

"You're certainly nice," Muriel rejoined, smiling. "However, you might tell me when you do think of starting. I don't want you to be away when we have arranged something to amuse you; and then, as I know the mountains, I can indicate an interesting tour. You might miss much if you didn't know where to go and what you ought to see."

Festing promised, and she left him and went back to the house with a thoughtful smile that hinted that she had begun to make an amusing plan.

Muriel was romantic and rather fond of managing her friends' affairs for their good.

CHAPTER VII

HELEN TAKES THE LEAD

Festing was glad to sit down when he reached the bottom of a chasm that divided the summits of two towering fells. He had crossed the higher of the two without much trouble except for a laborious scramble over large, rough stones, but the ascent of the other threatened to be difficult.

It rose in front, a wall of splintered crag, seamed by deep gullies, for the strata was tilted up nearly perpendicular. All the gullies were climbed by expert mountaineers, but this needed a party and a rope, and the other way, round the shoulder of the great rock, was almost as hard.

Festing knew the easiest plan was to descend a neighboring hollow, from which he would find a steep path to the top.

Lighting his pipe, he glanced at his watch. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and having been on his feet since breakfast, he felt tired.

The nails he had had driven into his light American boots hurt his feet, and the boots were much the worse for the last few days' wear. Muriel had carefully planned the trip, and then delayed his start by a week because she wanted to take him to a tennis party. Since he could not play tennis much, Festing did not see why she had done so, but agreed when she insisted.

So far, he had followed her instructions and admitted that she had directed him well, because it was hard to imagine there was anything in England finer than the country he had seen. The mountains had not the majestic grandeur of the British Columbian ranges, but they were wild enough, and pierced by dales steeped in sylvan beauty. The chasm in which he now rested had an impressive ruggedness.

Blinks of sunshine touched the lower face of the crag, and in their track the dark rock glittered with a steely l.u.s.ter, but trails of mist rolled among the crannies above. Below, a precipitous slope of small stones that the dalesmen call a scree ran down to a hollow strewn with broken rocks, and across this he could distinguish the blurred flat top of another height. The mountain dropped to a dale that looked profoundly deep, although he could not see its bottom.

The light was puzzling. For the most part, the sky was clear and the gleams of sun were hot, but heavy, black clouds drifted about, and a thick gray haze obscured the lower ground. Rain and mist would be dangerous obstacles, but Festing understood that he could reach the dale in about two hours' steady walking. Muriel had told him where to stop; indeed, she had been rather particular about this, and had recommended him to spend two days in the neighborhood. Luckily, there would be no crags to climb if he kept the path across the summit, for he had found it easier to reach the top of the hills than get down by a different line.

A rattle of stones made him look up, and he saw two girls silhouetted in a flash of sunshine against the face of the crag. They carried bulging rucksacks and were coming down towards him, picking their way among the tumbled rocks. He could not see the face of the first, but noticed her light poise and graceful movements as she sprang from stone to stone.

The other followed cautiously and Festing thought she limped, but when the first stopped to wait for her and lifted her head he felt a curious thrill. It was Helen Dalton.

He sat still, knowing his gray clothes would be hard to distinguish among the stones, and wondering what to do. He did not want to force his society upon the girl just yet, but would be disappointed if she pa.s.sed.

She came on, and when her eyes rested on him he got up. A flush of embarra.s.sment colored her face, but she stopped and greeted him with a smile.

"Mr. Festing! How did you get here?"

"I came over the Pike," said Festing. "I'm going to the dale."

"So are we," said Helen, who presented him to her companion.

Festing remarked that they wore jackets that had a tanned look, unusually short skirts, and thick nailed boots. Then he thought Helen's eyes twinkled.

"You would not have expected to find me engaged in anything so strenuous as this?"

"It is rather strenuous," Miss Jardine broke in. "You can stand if you like; I'm going to sit down."

They found a flat stone, and when Festing leaned against another Helen resumed: "We meant to try the Stairs, but have had a hard day and Alison is lame."

"I hurt my foot," Miss Jardine explained. "Besides, I'm from the level Midlands and we have been walking since breakfast. That doesn't matter to Helen; she is never tired."

Festing thought Helen looked remarkably fresh. Exertion and the mountain air had brought a fine color to her face, her eyes were bright, and there was a hint of vigor in her resting pose. Moreover, he had studied the Stairs, which led behind the shoulder of the crag to the summit. One could get up, if one was thin enough to squeeze through a gap between two rocks, but nerve and agility would be required.

"But you must climb pretty well, if you meant to get up the Stairs," he said.

"I know the Carnarvon range, but only go there now and then, and one needs some training to keep pace with people born among the fells who walk like mountain goats."

Had she said a mountain deer, Festing would have approved, for he had noted Helen's easy balance and fearless grace as she crossed the ragged blocks of stone. Then a rumble of distant thunder rolled among the crags and Miss Jardine resumed: "We ought to fix upon the best way down."

"The best is a rather elastic term," Helen rejoined. "The easiest would be to go back by the way we came."

"It's much too far."

"The shortest is up the crag by the Stairs or the gully on the other side. The regular track takes us down near the bottom of the next dale, and then back over the top."

"That's unthinkable," Miss Jardine declared.

"Well," said Helen thoughtfully, "there's a short line down the scree and across the shoulder of the fell below, but it's steep and rough.

There are some small crags, too, but they're not much of an obstacle when they're dry."

They set off and Festing noticed Helen's confidence on the scree. The descent was safe, but looked daunting, because their figures made a sharp angle with the gravel slope, and now and then a ma.s.s of dislodged stones rushed down hill. Sometimes the girl allowed herself to slide, sometimes she ran a few yards and sprang, but she did not stumble or lose her balance. Miss Jardine was cautious, and Festing kept near her, carrying her sack.

At the bottom they came to a wide belt of ma.s.sive stones, fallen from the heights above, and their progress was slow. One had to measure the gaps between the blocks and step carefully across, while the stones were ragged and had sharp corners. Festing was unable to look up and followed Helen, but after a time Miss Jardine stopped, and he saw that the crags were smothered in leaden cloud and all the sky was dark.

"I must have a few minutes' rest," the tired girl declared.

As they sat down on the edge of a ponderous slab there was a crash of thunder that rolled from rock to rock, and a few big drops fell. Then as the echoes died away the hillside was hidden by a curtain of driving rain. One end of the slab was tilted and they crept into the hollow underneath.

"It will be awkward if this goes on," Miss Jardine remarked.

"These thunderstorms seldom last," said Helen. "I expect we have seen the worst, and we must start again as soon as we can see."

Festing thought she was anxious to get down, but Miss Jardine grumbled about the rain, and then turned to him.

"It was a relief to give you my sack, and I was glad to see it didn't bother you. I suppose you are used to these mountains."

"No," said Festing. "This is the first time I've climbed a hill for amus.e.m.e.nt."

"But you are a climber. You have balance, trust your feet and not your hands, and know how to step on a loose stone."

Festing laughed. "I used to do something of the kind as a matter of business. You see, I helped mark out the line for a new railroad in British Columbia, and rocks are plentiful in that country."

"It must be a wonderful place," said Helen. "I have a photograph of the gorge at the foot of the glacier, where the line went through. You had stern work when you laid the rails in winter."

Festing looked at her in surprise, for he had worked to the edge of exhaustion and run many risks at the spot, but while he wondered how she knew Helen got up.