Part 24 (1/2)

Then he set to work furiously with a branch which he tore from the fallen tree, ripping off rough slabs of bark, and in the course of half an hour had constructed a shelter about the base of a cedar. It, at least, kept the rain off when Violet sat under it.

”It might be as well if I pushed on for the inlet and brought George or Acton back with me,” he suggested. ”We could make something to carry you in, if there was too much sea for the gig.”

A flush crept into the girl's face, and she looked at him reproachfully.

”How could I stay here alone?” she asked. ”Don't say those foolish things. Come in out of the rain.”

The bark shelter would just hold the two of them, and Nasmyth, dripping, sat down close beside her. She looked very forlorn.

”I'm sorry for you,” he said awkwardly.

The girl showed faint signs of temper. ”You have told me that before.

Why don't you do something? You said you had lived in the Bush, and now you have only been a few hours in it. It was seven o'clock when we had breakfast. Can't you even make a fire?”

”I'm afraid I can't,” answered Nasmyth deprecatingly. ”You see, one has usually an axe and some matches, as well as a few other odds and ends, when one lives in the Bush. A man is a wretchedly helpless being when he has only his hands.”

The fact was borne in upon Violet forcibly as she glanced out at the wet beach, tumbling sea, and dreary, dripping Bush. The Bush rolled back, a long succession of straggling pines that rose one behind the other in sombre ranks, to the rugged hills that cut against the hazy sky. There was, no doubt, all that man required to provide him with warmth and food and shelter in that forest, but it was certain that it was only by continuous and arduous toil that he could render it available. Indeed, since he could not make himself an axe or a saw or a rifle, it was also evident that his efforts would be fruitless unless backed by the toil of others who played their part in the great scheme of human co-operation.

It is, however, probable that Violet did not concern herself with this aspect of the matter, but she had led a sheltered life, and it was curiously disconcerting to find herself brought suddenly face to face with primitive realities. She was wet through and worn out, and although evening was not far away, she had eaten nothing since seven o'clock that morning. The momentary petulance deserted her.

”Oh!” she cried, ”they mayn't be able to send off for us for perhaps a day or two.”

”It is quite likely that the breeze will drop at sunset,” Nasmyth replied cheerfully. ”These westerly breezes often do. Anyway, the rain seems to be stopping, and I may be able to dry my matches. In the meanwhile I might come across something to eat. There are oysters on some of these beaches.”

Violet glanced at the Bush apprehensively, and once more it was evident that she did not wish him to leave her. This sent a little thrill of satisfaction through him, and although he half-consciously contrasted her with Laura Waynefleet, it was not altogether to her disadvantage. It is a curious fact that some men, and probably women, too, feel more drawn to the persons upon whom they confer a benefit than to those from whom they receive one. Laura Waynefleet, he realized, would have urged him to make some attempt to reach the _Tillic.u.m_, and in all probability would have insisted on taking a share in it, while his companion desired only to lean on him. After all, Laura's att.i.tude was more pleasant to the subconscious vanity that was in his nature, and in this respect he probably differed but little from most of his fellows.

”You won't be very long away?” she said.

Nasmyth rea.s.sured her upon this point, and floundered down to the beach, where he carefully laid out to dry the little block of sulphur matches that he carried. Then he crawled among the boulders near low-water mark, and, since oysters are tolerably plentiful along those beaches, succeeded in collecting several dozen of them. After that he sat down and gazed seaward for a minute or two. There was no sign of the _Tillic.u.m_, only a strip of dingy, slate-green sea smeared with streaks of froth, which shone white beneath a heavy, lowering sky.

Close in front of him the sea hove itself up in rows of foam-crested ridges, which fell upon the boulders and swirled over them and among them a furious white seething. He fancied that it was near sunset, and it was clear that the breeze was a little lighter. It seemed to him just possible that four capable seamen might keep the gig afloat close enough to the beach for one to wade out to her, though there would be a certain peril in such a proceeding. Still, there were not four capable seamen on board the _Tillic.u.m_!

Gathering up his matches, which had dried, Nasmyth went back to the bark shelter. He was pleasantly conscious of the relief in Miss Hamilton's eyes when he reached it, and fancied that she was too overwrought and anxious to care whether he noticed it or not; but he set about making a fire, and she helped him to collect brittle undergrowth and fallen branches. Then they sat down and ate the oysters that he had laid among the embers. He thought they were not in season, and they were certainly burnt and shrivelled, as well as somewhat gritty; but one is glad to eat anything after a long day of exertion, and Nasmyth watched his companion with quiet appreciation as she handled the rough sh.e.l.ls daintily with little delicate fingers.

Her evident reliance upon him had its effect.

He carried an armful of branches to the beach, and started another fire where it could be seen from seawards, after which he went back and sat outside the shelter near Miss Hamilton, while darkness crept up from the eastwards across the Bush. It grew dim and solemn, and the doleful wailing of the pines was curiously impressive. The girl s.h.i.+vered.

”The wind is very chilly,” she said, with a tremor in her voice. ”You will stay here where I can see you. You won't go away?”

”Only to keep up the fire on the beach,” Nasmyth answered rea.s.suringly.

She crept into the shelter, and he could see her dimly when the flickering light blazed up, but he could never remember how many journeys he made to the fire upon the beach before his eyes grew heavy as he sat amid the whirling smoke. He endeavoured to keep awake, and resolutely straightened himself once or twice, but at last his eyes closed altogether, and he did not hear the shriek of the _Tillic.u.m's_ whistle ring far across the shadowy Bush. Indeed, he did not waken when Acton and Wisbech came floundering into the light of the fire; and the two men looked at each other when they stopped beside it and saw him lying there, and then discovered the girl inside the shelter.

Acton raised his hand warningly, while a faint twinkle crept into his eyes.

”I guess there's no reason why anybody else should hear of this,” he said. ”It seems to me that Miss Hamilton would be just as well pleased if we were not around when she awakens.”

He stooped and shook Nasmyth's shoulder as Wisbech disappeared among the shadows.

”Get up,” said Acton. ”Wait until I get away, and then waken her.”