Part 34 (1/2)

When the thing one has longed for does come along, it is generally at a time when the wish for it has gone.”

”Commiseration would be a little unnecessary,” said Allonby, with unusual quietness. ”The competence you mention will certainly prove a fortune before you are very much older.”

”I don't feel by any means as sure of it as you seem to be. Still, under the circ.u.mstances, it doesn't greatly matter.”

Allonby, with some difficulty, straightened himself. ”I am,” he said, not without a certain dignity which almost astonished Brooke, ”a worn-out wastrel and a whisky-tank, but I'll live to show the men who look down on me with contemptuous pity what I was once capable of. That is all I am holding on to life for. It is naturally not a very pleasant one to a man with a memory.”

For a moment he stood almost erect, and then collapsed suddenly into his chair. ”Devine has a brain of another and very much lower order, though it is of a kind that is apt to prove more useful to its possessor, and in his own sphere there are very few men to equal him. If I do not fall down the shaft in the meanwhile, we will certainly show this province what we can do together. And now I believe it is advisable for me to go to bed, while I feel to some extent capable of reaching it. My head is at least as clear as usual, but my legs are unruly.”

XXIII.

BROOKE'S CONFESSION.

The Pacific express had just come in, and the C. P. R. wharf at Vancouver was thronged with a hurrying crowd when Barbara Heathcote and her sister stood leaning upon the rails of the S. S. _Islander_. Beneath them the big locomotive which had hauled the dusty cars over the wild Selkirk pa.s.ses was crawling slowly down the wharf with bell tolling dolefully, and while a feathery steam roared aloft above the tiers of white deckhouses a stream of pa.s.sengers flowed up the gangway. Barbara, who was crossing to Victoria, watched them languidly until an elaborately-dressed woman ascended, leaning upon the arm of a man whose fastidious neatness of attire and air of indifference to the confusion about him proclaimed him an Englishman. She made a very slight inclination when the woman smiled at her.

”It is fortunate she can't very well get at us here,” she said, glancing at the pile of baggage which cut them off from the rest of the deck.

”Three or four hours of Mrs. Coulson's conversation would be a good deal more than I could appreciate.”

”You need scarcely be afraid of it in the meanwhile,” said Mrs. Devine.

”It is a trifle difficult to hear one's self speak.”

”For which her husband is no doubt thankful. Until I met them once or twice I wondered why that man wore an habitually tired expression. Of course there are Englishmen who consider it becoming, but one feels that in his case his looks are quite in keeping with his sensations.”

Mrs. Devine laughed. ”You don't like the woman?”

”No,” said Barbara, reflectively. ”I really don't know why I shouldn't, but I don't. She certainly poses too much, and the last time I had the pleasure of listening to her at the Wheelers' house she patronized me and the country too graciously. The country can get along without her commendation.”

”I wonder if she asked you anything about Brooke?”

”No,” said Barbara, a trifle sharply. ”Where could she have met him?”

”In England. She seemed to know he was at the Dayspring, and managed, I fancy, intentionally, to leave me with the impression that they were especial friends in the Old Country. I wonder if she knows he will be on board to-day?”

”Mr. Brooke is crossing with us?” said Barbara, with an indifference her sister had some doubts about.

”Grant seemed to expect him. He is going to buy American mining machinery or something of the kind in Victoria. I believe it was he Grant left us to meet.”

Barbara said nothing, though she was sensible of a curious little thrill. She had not seen Brooke since the evening he had behaved in what was an apparently inexplicable fas.h.i.+on at the ranch, and had heard very little about him. She, however, watched the wharf intently, until she saw Devine accost a man with a bronzed face who was quietly threading his way through the hurrying groups, and her heart beat a trifle faster than usual as they moved together towards the steamer. Then almost unconsciously she turned to see if the woman they had been discussing was also watching for him, but she had by this time disappeared.

Barbara, for no very apparent reason, felt a trifle pleased at this.

In the meanwhile Devine was talking rapidly to Brooke.

”Here is a letter for you that came in with yesterday's mail,” he said.

”Struck anything more encouraging at the mine since you wrote me?”

”No,” said Brooke. ”I'm afraid we haven't. Still, Allonby seems as sure as ever and is most anxious to get the new plant in.”