Part 42 (1/2)

”I've no doubt that I was inconsiderate,” he said. ”Still, you see, I was worried about our affairs in the canon.”

”The canon!” repeated Violet reproachfully. ”It is always the canon. I wonder if you remember that it is at least a month since you have written a line to me.”

Nasmyth was disconcerted, for a moment's reflection convinced him that the accusation was true.

”Well,” he confessed, ”I have certainly been shamefully remiss. Of course, I was busy from dawn to sunset, but, after all, I'm afraid that is really no excuse.”

The girl frowned. ”No,” she said, ”it isn't.”

It was a slight relief to Nasmyth that a maid appeared just then, and he took a gla.s.s of wine from the tray she laid upon a little table.

”To the brightest eyes in this Province!” he said, when the servant had gone, and, emptying the gla.s.s, he fell upon the food voraciously.

It was unfortunate that in such unattractive guise he had come upon Violet, and the fas.h.i.+on in which he ate also had its effect on her. In the last thirty hours he had had only one hasty meal, and he showed a voracity that offended her fastidious taste. He was worn out and anxious, and since all his thoughts were fixed upon the business that he had in hand, he could not rouse himself to act according to the manner expected of a lover who returns after a long absence. It was, however, once more borne in upon him that this was significant.

Violet, on her part, felt repelled by him. He was gaunt and lean, and the state of his garments had shocked her. His hands were hard and battered. She was very dainty, and in some respects unduly sensitive, and it did not occur to her that it would have been more natural if, in place of shrinking, she had been sensible only of a tender pity for him. Perhaps there were excuses for her att.i.tude. She had never been brought into contact with the grim realities of life, and it is only from those whom that befalls that one can expect the wide sympathy which springs from comprehension. Nasmyth, lounging at Bonavista with amusing speeches on his lips and his air of easy deference, had been a somewhat romantic figure, and the glimpses of the struggle in the Bush that he had given her had appealed to her imagination. She could feel the thrill of it when she saw it through his eyes with all the unpleasantly realistic features carefully wiped out, but it was different now that he had come back to her with the dust and stain of the conflict fresh upon him. The evidences of his strife were only repulsive, and she shrank from them. She watched him with a growing impatience until he rose and laid his empty plate aside.

”Well,” he observed, ”you will excuse me. I must see Mr. Acton as soon as I can.”

It was not in any way a tactful speech, and Violet resented it. The man, it seemed, had only deferred the business he had on hand for a meal. She looked at him with her displeasure flas.h.i.+ng in her eyes.

”In that case,” she said, ”I should, of course, be sorry to keep you away from him.”

Nasmyth gazed at her curiously, but he did not reply. He went away from her. A few minutes later when he entered Acton's room he was attired in conventional fas.h.i.+on. His host shook hands with him, and then leaned back in a chair, waiting for him to speak, which he did with a trace of diffidence.

”My object is to borrow money,” he explained frankly. ”I couldn't resent it in the least if you sent me on to somebody else.”

”I'll hear what you have to say in the first case,” replied Acton.

”You had better explain exactly how you stand.”

Nasmyth did so as clearly as he could, and Acton looked at him thoughtfully for a moment or two.

”I've been partly expecting this,” he observed. ”It's quite clear that one or two of the big land exploitation people have a hand in the thing. I guess I could put my finger right down on them. You said the man's name was Hames?”

Nasmyth said it was, and Acton sat thinking for several minutes.

”It seems to me that the folks I have in my mind haven't been quite smart enough,” he declared at length. ”They should have put up a sounder man. As it happens, I know a little about the one they fixed upon. Mr. Hames is what you could call a professional claim-jumper, and it's fortunate that there's a weak spot or two in his career.”

Acton paused, and Nasmyth waited in tense expectancy until the older man turned to him again, with a twinkle in his eyes.

”I almost think I can take a hand in this thing, and to commence with, we'll go down to Victoria this afternoon and call on Mr. Hames,” he added. ”If he has bought that land, it will probably be registered in his name. The men you have against you are rather fond of working in the dark. Then we come to another point--what it would be wisest to do with Waynefleet, who went back on you. You said he had a mortgage on his ranch. You know who holds it?”

Nasmyth said he did not know, and Acton nodded. ”Any way,” he rejoined, ”we can ascertain it in the city. Now, I guess you would like that man run right out of the neighbourhood? It would be safest, and it might perhaps be done.”

Nasmyth was startled by this suggestion, and with a thoughtful face he sat wondering what was most advisable. He bore Waynefleet very little good-will, but it was clear that Laura must share any trouble that befell her father, and he could not at any cost lay a heavier load upon her. He was conscious that Acton was watching him intently.

”No,” he objected, ”I don't want him driven out. In fact, I should be satisfied with making it impossible for him to enter into any arrangement of the kind again.”

”In that case, I guess we'll try to buy up his mortgage,” remarked Acton. ”Land's going to be dearer in that district presently.”

Nasmyth looked at him with a little confusion. ”It is very kind, but, after all, I have no claim on you.”