The Protector Part 39

Carroll did not see how this bore upon the subject of their conversation, but he left her to take the lead.

"Did Vane tell you I had promised to warn him?" she asked.

"To do him justice, he let it out before he quite realised what he was saying. I'd better own that I partly surprised him into giving me the information."

"The expedient seems a favourite one with you," said Jessie. "I suppose no news of what has happened here can have reached him?"

"None. If it's any consolation, he has still an unshaken confidence in you." Carroll a.s.sured her with blunt bitterness.

The girl showed faint signs of confusion, but she sat silent for the next few moments, and during them it flashed upon her companion with illuminating light that he had heard Celia Hartley say Miss Horsfield had found her orders for millinery. This confirmed his previous suspicion that Jessie had discovered who had paid the rent of Celia's shack, and that she had with deliberate malice informed Evelyn, distorting her account so that it would tell against Vane. There were breaks in the chain of reasoning which led him to this conclusion, but he did not think Jessie would shrink from such a course, and he determined to try a chance shot.

"Vane's inclined to be trustful and his rash generosity has once or twice got him into trouble," he remarked, and went on as if an explanation were needed: "It's Miss Hartley's case I'm thinking about just now. I've an idea he asked you to look after her. Am I right?"

As soon as he had spoken he knew he had hit the mark. Jessie did not openly betray herself, but there are not many people who can remain absolutely unmoved when unexpectedly asked a startling question.

Besides, the man was observant, and had strung up all his faculties for the encounter. He saw one of her hands tighten on the arm of her chair and a hint of uneasiness in her eyes, and it sufficed him.

"Yes," she said; "I recommended her to some of my friends. I understand she is getting along satisfactorily."

Carroll felt compelled to admire her manner. He believed she loved his comrade and had nevertheless tried to ruin him in a fit of jealous rage.

She was now keenly regretting her success, but though he thought she deserved to suffer, she was bravely facing the trying situation. It was one that was rife with dramatic possibilities, and he was grateful to her for avoiding them.

"You are going back to-morrow," she said after a brief silence. "I suppose you will have to tell your partner what you have discovered here as soon as you reach him?"

Carroll had not intended to spare her, but now he felt almost compa.s.sionate, and he had one grain of comfort to offer. "I must tell him that his shares in the Clermont have been sacrificed. I wonder if that is all you meant?"

Jessie met his inquiring gaze with something very like an appeal; and then spread out her hands in a manner to indicate that she threw herself upon his mercy.

"It is not all I meant," she confessed.

"Then, if it's any relief to you, I'll confine myself to telling him that he has been deprived of his most valuable property. I dare say the news will hit him hard enough; but though he may afterwards discover other facts for himself, on the whole I shouldn't consider it likely. As I said, he's confiding and slow to suspect."

He read genuine grat.i.tude, which he had hardly expected, in the girl's face; but he raised his hand and went on in the rather formal manner which he felt was the only safe one to a.s.sume. "I had, however, better mention that I am going to call upon Miss Hartley. After that I shall be uncommonly thankful to start back for the bush." He paused, and concluded with a sudden trace of humour: "I'll own that I feel more at home with the work that waits me there."

Jessie made a little gesture which, while it might have meant anything, was somehow very expressive, and just then there were footsteps outside.

Next moment Horsfield walked into the room.

"So you're back," he said.

"Yes," said Carroll shortly. "Beaten at both ends--there's no use in hiding it."

Horsfield showed no sign of satisfaction, and Carroll afterwards admitted that the man behaved very considerately.

"Well," he said, "though you may be surprised to hear it, I'm sorry.

Unfortunately, our interests clashed, and I naturally looked after mine.

Once upon a time, I thought I could have worked hand in hand with Vane; but our ideas did not coincide, and your partner is not the man to yield a point or listen to advice."

Carroll was aware that Horsfield had by means which were far from honourable deprived him of a considerable portion of his possessions. He had also betrayed his fellow shareholders in the Clermont mine, selling their interests, doubtless for some benefit to himself, to another company. For all that, Carroll recognised that since he and Vane were beaten, as he had confessed, recriminations and reproaches would be useless as well as undignified. He preferred to face defeat calmly.

"It's the fortune of war," he replied. "What you say about Vane is correct; but although it is not a matter of much importance now, it was impossible from the beginning that your views and his ever should agree."

"Too great a difference of temperament? I dare say you're right. Vane measures things by a different standard--mine's perhaps more adapted to the market-place. But where have you left him?"

"In the bush. Miss Horsfield will, no doubt, give you particulars; I've just told her the tale."

"She called me up at the office and asked me to come across at once.

Will you excuse us for a few minutes?"

They went out together, and Jessie, who came back alone, sat down and looked at Carroll in a diffident manner.

"I suppose," she said, "one could hardly expect you to think of either of us very leniently; but I must ask you to believe that I am sincerely distressed to hear of your partner's accident. This was a thing I could never have antic.i.p.ated; but there are amends I can make. Every minute you can save is precious, isn't it?"

Carroll agreed, and she resumed: "Then I can get you a tug. My brother tells me the Atlin's coming across from Victoria and should be here early this evening. He has gone back to the office to secure her for you, though she was fixed to go off for a log boom."

"Thank you," said Carroll. "It's a great service."

Jessie hesitated. "I think my brother would like to say a few words when he returns. Can I offer you some tea?"

"I think not," said Carroll, smiling. "For one thing, if I sit still much longer, I shall, no doubt, go to sleep again, as I did at Nairn's, which would be neither seemly nor convenient, if I'm to sail this evening. Besides, now we've arranged an armistice, it might be wiser not to put too much strain on it!"

"An armistice?"

"I think that describes it." Carroll's manner grew significant. "The word implies a cessation of hostilities--on certain terms."

Jessie could take a hint, and his meaning was clear. Unless she forced him to do so, he would not betray her to his comrade, who might never discover the part she had played; but he had given her a warning, which might be bluntly rendered as, "Hands off." There was only one course open to her--to respect it. She had brought down the man she loved, but it was clear that he was not for her, and now the unreasoning fury which had driven her to strike had pa.s.sed, she was troubled with contrition.

There was nothing left except to retire from the field, and it was better to do so gracefully. For all that, there were signs of strain in her expression as she capitulated.

"Well," she said, "I have given you a proof that you have nothing to fear from me. My brother is the only man in Vancouver who could have got you that tug for this evening; I understand the saw-mill people are very much in need of the logs she was engaged to tow."

She held out her hand and Carroll took it, though he had not expected to part from her on friendly terms.

"I owe you a deal for that," he said and turned away.

His task, however, was only half complete when he left the house, and the remaining portion was the more difficult, but he meant to finish it.

He preferred to take life lightly; he had trifled with it before disaster had driven him out into the wilds; but there was resolution in the man, and he could force himself to play an unpleasant part when it was needful. Fortune also favoured him, as she often does those who follow the boldest course.

He had entered Hastings Street when he met Kitty and Celia. The latter looked thin and somewhat pale, but she was moving briskly, and her face was eager when she shook hands with him.

"We have been anxious about you--there was no news," she said. "Is Mr.

Vane with you? How have you got on?"

"We found the spruce," said Carroll. "It's not worth milling--a forest fire has wiped most of it out--but we struck some shingling cedar we may make something of."

"But where's Mr. Vane?"

"In the bush; I've a good deal to tell you about him, but we can't talk here. I wonder if we could find a quiet place in a restaurant, or if the park would be better."

"The park," said Kitty decidedly.

They reached it in due time and Carroll, who had refused to say anything about Vane on the way, found the girls a seat in a grove of giant firs and sat down opposite to them. Though it was winter, the day, as is often the case near Vancouver, was pleasantly mild.