Part 7 (2/2)
”Ah, and--”
”He seemed to fancy that you, being impetuous, might make a mistake and fall--”
”In love with the wrong man. Yes, I understand; and from his point of view, if ever I do marry it will undoubtedly be the wrong man.”
And the girl finished up with a mirthless laugh.
They stood for some moments in silence. They were both thinking. The noise from the corrals behind the house reached them. The steady drip, drip of the water from the melting snow upon the roof of the house sounded loudly as it fell on the sodden ground beneath.
”Uncle, did it ever strike you that that greasy money-lender wants to marry me himself?”
The question startled John Allandale more than anything else could have done. He turned sharply round and faced his niece.
”Marry you, Jacky?” he repeated. ”I never thought of it.”
”It isn't to be supposed that you would have done so.”
There was the faintest tinge of bitterness in the girl's answer.
”And do you really think that he wants to marry you?”
”I don't know quite. Perhaps I am wrong, uncle, and my imagination has run away with me. Yes, I sometimes think he wants to marry me.”
They both relapsed into silence. Then her uncle spoke again.
”Jacky, what you have just said has made something plain to me which I could not understand before. He came and gave me--unsolicited, mind--”a little eagerly, ”a detailed account of Bunning-Ford's circ.u.mstances, and--”
”Endeavored to bully you into sending him about his business. Poor old Bill! And what was his account of him?”
The girl's eyes were glowing with quickly-roused pa.s.sion, but she kept them turned from her uncle's face.
”He told me that the boy had heavy mortgages on his land and stock. He told me that if he were to realize to-morrow there would be little or nothing for himself. Everything would go to some firm in Calford. In short, that he has gambled his ranch away.”
”And he told this to you, uncle, dear.” Then the girl paused and looked far out across the great muskeg. In her abrupt fas.h.i.+on she turned again to the old man. ”Uncle,” she went on, ”tell me truly, do you owe anything to Lablache? Has he any hold upon you?”
There was a world of anxiety in her voice as she spoke. John Allandale tried to follow her thought before he answered. He seemed to grasp something of her meaning, for in a moment his eyes took on an expression of pain. Then his words came slowly, as from one who is not sure of what he is saying.
”I owe him some--money--yes--but--”
”Poker?”
The question was jerked viciously from the girl's lips.
”Yes.”
Jacky turned slowly away until her eyes rested upon the distant, grazing horse. A strange restlessness seemed to be upon her. She was fidgeting with the gauntlet which she had just removed. Then slowly her right hand pa.s.sed round to her hip, where it rested upon the b.u.t.t of her revolver.
There was a tight drawnness about her lips and her keen gray eyes looked as though gazing into s.p.a.ce.
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