The Protector Part 9

"That," replied Vane, "is more than I can tell you, but I'm inclined to believe he has been at one of the universities; Toronto, most likely.

Anyhow, on the whole he acts as a judicious restraint."

"But don't you really know anything about him?"

"Only what some years of close companionship have taught me."

Evelyn looked surprised, and he spread out his hands in a humorous manner. "A good many people have had to take me in that way, and they seemed willing to do so; the thing's not uncommon in the West. Why should I be more particular than they were?"

Just then Mabel and Carroll appeared. The latter's garments were stained in places as if he had been scrambling over mossy rocks, and his pockets bulged.

"We've found some sundew and two ferns I don't know, as well as all sorts of other things," she announced.

"That's correct," said Carroll; "I've got them. I guess they're going to fill up most of the creel."

Mabel superintended their transfer, and then addressed the others generally: "I think we ought to go up the Pike now, when we have the chance. It isn't much of a climb from here. Besides, the quickest way back to the road is across the top and down the other side."

Evelyn agreed, and they set out, following a sheep-path which skirted the screes, until they left the bank of sharp stones behind, and faced a steep ascent. Parts of it necessitated a breathless scramble, and the sunlight faded from the hills as they climbed, while thicker wisps of cloud drove across the ragged summit. They reached the latter at length and stopped, bracing themselves against a rush of chilly breeze, while they looked down upon a wilderness of leaden-coloured rock. Long trails of mist were creeping in and out among the crags, and here and there ma.s.ses of it gathered round the higher slopes.

"I think the Pike's grandest in this weather," Mabel declared. "Look below, Mr. Carroll, and you'll see the mountain is like a starfish. It has p.r.o.ngs running out from it."

Carroll did as she directed him, and noticed three diverging ridges springing off from the shoulder of the peak. Their crests, which were narrow, led down towards the valley, but their sides fell in rent and fissured crags to great black hollows.

"You can get down two of them," Mabel went on. "The first is the nearest to the road, but the third's the easiest. It takes you to the Hause; that's the gap between it and the next hill."

A few big drops began to fall, and Evelyn cut her sister's explanations short.

"We had better make a start at once," she said.

They set out, Mabel and Carroll leading and drawing farther away from the two behind; and the rain began in earnest as they descended. Rock slope and scattered stones were slippery, and Vane found it difficult to keep his footing on some of their lichened surfaces. He, however, was relieved to see that his companion seldom hesitated, and they made their way downwards cautiously, until, near the spot where the three ridges diverged, they walked into a belt of drifting mist. The peak above them was suddenly blotted out, and Evelyn bade Vane hail Carroll and Mabel, who had disappeared. He sent a shout ringing through the vapour, and caught a faint and unintelligible reply, after which a flock of sheep fled past and dislodged a rush of sliding stones. Vane heard the latter rattle far down the hillside, and when he called again a blast of chilly wind whirled his voice away. There was a faint echo above him, and then silence again.

"It looks as if they were out of hearing, and the slope ahead of us seems uncommonly steep by the way those stones went down," he remarked.

"Do you think Mabel has taken Carroll down the Stanghyll ridge?"

"I can't tell," said Evelyn. "It's comforting to remember that she knows it better than I do. I think we ought to make for the Hause; there's only one place that's really steep. Keep up to the left a little; the Scale Crags must be close beneath us."

They moved on cautiously, skirting what seemed to be a pit of profound depth in which dim vapours whirled, while the rain, which grew thicker, beat into their faces.

CHAPTER VII

STORM-STAYED.

The weather was not the only thing that troubled Vane as he stumbled on through the mist. Any unathletic tourist from the cities could have gone up without much difficulty by the way they had ascended, but it was different coming down on the opposite side of the mountain. There, their route laid across banks of sharp-pointed stones that rested lightly on the steep slope, interspersed with out-cropping rocks which were growing dangerously slippery; and a wilderness of crags pierced by three great radiating chasms lay beneath.

After half an hour's arduous scramble, he decided that they must be close upon the top of the last rift, and stood still for a minute looking about him. The mist was now so thick that he could scarcely see thirty yards ahead, but the way it drove past him indicated that it was blowing up a hollow. On one hand a rampart of hillside loomed dimly out of it; in front there was a dark patch that looked like the face of a dripping rock; and between the latter and the hill a boggy stretch of gra.s.s ran back into the vapour. Then he turned, and glanced at Evelyn with some concern. Her skirt was heavy with moisture, and the rain dripped from the brim of her hat, but she smiled at him rea.s.suringly.

"It's not the first time I've got wet," she said.

Vane felt relieved on one account. He had imagined that a woman hated to feel draggled and untidy, and he was willing to own that in his case fatigue usually tended towards shortness of temper. Though the scramble had scarcely taxed his powers, he fancied that Evelyn, had already done as much as one could expect of her.

"I must prospect about a bit," he said. "Scardale's somewhere below us; but if I remember, it's an awkward descent to the head of it, and I'm not sure of the right entrance to the Hause."

"I've only once been down this way, and that was a long while ago,"

Evelyn replied.

Vane left her, and plodded away across the gra.s.s. When he had grown scarcely distinguishable in the haze, he turned and waved his hand.

"I know where we are; the head of the beck's close by," he cried.

Evelyn joined him at the edge of a trickle of water splashing in a peaty hollow, and they followed it down, seeing only odd strips of hillside amidst the vapour, until at length the ground grew softer and Vane, going first, sank among the long green moss almost to his knees.

"That won't do. Stand still, please," he said. "I'll try a little to the right."

He tried in one or two directions; but wherever he went he sank over his boots, and, coming back, he informed his companion that they had better go straight ahead.

"I know there's no bog worth speaking of; the Hause is a regular tourist track," he added, and suddenly stripped off his jacket. "First of all, you'll put this on; I'm sorry I didn't think of it before."

Evelyn demurred, and he rolled up the jacket. "You have to choose between doing what I ask and watching me pitch it into the beck," he declared. "I'm a rather determined person, and it would be a pity to throw the thing away, particularly as the rain hasn't got through it yet."

She yielded, and after he had held up the garment while she put it on, he spoke again:

"There's another thing; I'm going to carry you for the next hundred yards, or possibly farther."

"No," said Evelyn firmly. "On that point my determination is as strong as yours."

Vane made a sign of acquiescence. "You can have your way for a minute; I expect it will be long enough."

He was correct, Evelyn moved forward a pace or two, and then stopped with the skirt she had gathered up brushing the quivering emerald moss, and her boots, which were high ones, hidden in the latter. She had some difficulty in pulling them out. Then Vane coolly picked her up.

"All you have to do is to keep still for the next few minutes," he informed her in a most matter-of-fact voice.

Evelyn did not move, though had he shown any sign of self-conscious hesitation she would at once have shaken herself loose. He was conscious of a thrill and a certain stirring of his blood, but this, he decided, must be sternly ignored, and his task occupied most of his attention. It was not an easy one, and he stumbled once or twice, but he accomplished it and set the girl down safely on firmer ground.

"Now," he said, "there's only the drop to the dale, but we must endeavour to keep out of the beck."

His voice and air were unembarra.s.sed, though he was breathless, and Evelyn fancied that in this and the incident of the jacket he had revealed the forceful, natural manners of the West. It was the first glimpse she had had of them, though she had watched for one, and she was not displeased. The man had merely done what was most advisable, with practical sense.

A little farther on, a shoot of falling water swept out of the mist above and came splashing down a crag, spread out in frothing threads. It flowed across their path, reunited in a deep gully which they sprang across, and then fell tumultuously into the beck, which was now ten or twelve feet below on one side of them. They clung to the rock as they traced it downwards, stepping cautiously from ledge to ledge. At times a stone plunged into the mist beneath them, and Vane grasped the girl's arm or held out a steadying hand, but he was never fussy or needlessly concerned. When she wanted help, it was offered at the right moment; but that was all, and she thought that had she been alarmed, which was not the case, her companion's manner would have been more comforting than persistent solicitude. He was, she decided, one who could be relied upon in an emergency.

Though caution was still necessary, the next stage of the journey was easier, and by and by they reached a winding dale. They followed it downwards, splashing through water part of the time, and at length came into sight of a cl.u.s.ter of little houses standing between a river and a big fir wood.

"It must be getting on towards evening," said Evelyn. "Mopsy and Carroll probably went down the Ridge, and as it runs out lower down the valley, they'll be almost at home."

"It's six o'clock," said Vane, glancing at his watch. "You can't walk home in the rain, and it's a long while since lunch. If Adam Bell and his wife are still at the 'Golden Fleece,' we'll get something to eat there and borrow you dry clothes. He'll drive us home afterwards."

Evelyn made no objections. She was very wet and beginning to feel weary, and they were some distance from home. She restored him his jacket, and a few minutes later they entered an old hostelry which, like many others among these hills, was a farm as well as an inn. The landlady, who recognised Vane with pleased surprise, took Evelyn away with her, and afterwards provided Vane with some of her husband's clothes. Then she lighted a fire, and when she had laid out a meal in the guest-room, Evelyn came in, attired in a dress of lilac print.