Part 21 (2/2)

Carroll made a grimace.

”If that's how it strikes you, any advice I could offer would be wasted.

A sensible man would consider it a promising opportunity.”

”And trade upon it? As you know, there wasn't the slightest risk, with branches that one could get hold of, and a shelving bank almost within reach.”

”Do you really want the girl?”

”That impression's firmly in my mind,” Vane said curtly.

”Then you'd better pitch your Quixotic notions overboard and tell her so.”

Vane frowned but made no answer; and Carroll, recognizing that his comrade was not inclined to be communicative, left him pacing up and down.

CHAPTER XI

VANE WITHDRAWS

Dusk was drawing on, but there was still a little light in the western sky, when Vane strolled along the terrace in front of the Dene. In the distance the ranks of fells rose black and solemn out of filmy trails of mist, but the valley had faded to a trough of shadow. A faint breeze was stirring, and the silence was broken by the soft patter of withered leaves which fluttered down across the lawn. Vane noticed it all by some involuntary action of his senses, for although, at the time, he was oblivious to his surroundings, he afterward found that he could recall each detail of the scene with vivid distinctness. He was preoccupied and eager, but fully aware of the need for coolness, for it was quite possible that he might fail in the task he had in hand.

Presently he saw Evelyn, for whom he had been waiting, cross the opposite end of the terrace. Moving forward he joined her at the entrance to a shrubbery walk. A big, clipped yew with a recess in which a seat had been placed stood close by.

”I have been sitting with Mopsy,” said Evelyn. ”She seems very little the worse for her adventure--thanks to you.” She hesitated and her voice grew softer. ”I owe you a heavy debt--I am very fond of Mopsy.”

”It's a great pity she fell in,” Vane declared curtly.

Evelyn looked at him in surprise. She scarcely thought he could regret the efforts he had made on her sister's behalf, but that was what his words implied. He noticed her change of expression.

”The trouble is that the thing might seem to give me some claim on you; and I don't want that,” he explained. ”It cost me no more than a wetting; I hadn't the least difficulty in getting her out.”

His companion was still puzzled. She could find no fault with him for being modest about his exploit, but that he should make it clear that he did not require her grat.i.tude struck her as unnecessary.

”For all that, you did bring her out,” she persisted. ”Even if it causes you no satisfaction, the fact is of some importance to us.”

”I don't seem to be beginning very fortunately. What I mean is that I don't want to urge my claim, if I have one. I'd rather be taken on my merits.” He paused a moment with a smile. ”That's not much better, is it?

But it partly expresses what I feel. Leaving Mopsy out altogether, let me try to explain--I don't wish you to be influenced by anything except your own idea of me. I'm saying this because one or two points that seem in my favor may have a contrary effect.”

Evelyn made no answer, and he indicated the seat.

”Won't you sit down? I have something to say.”

The girl did as he suggested, and his smile died away.

”Would you be astonished if I were to ask you to marry me?”

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