Part 2 (1/2)

”Yes,” said Ingleby shortly. ”What chance is there for me--or any of us--here?”

Leger threw up the window and looked into the street. The lights of a big gin palace flared down in the narrow gap, and a stream of perspiring humanity flowed along beneath them, slatternly women, and men with flattened chests and shoulders bent by unhealthy toil, jostling one another. The garish brilliancy touched their pallid faces, and the harsh murmur of their voices came up hollowly between the tall houses with the reek of gas fumes and other confused odours. There were many poor in Hoddam, and in hot weather bargains were to be had in the neighbouring market at that hour; while trade was bad just then, and a little lower down the street shadowy figures were flitting into a p.a.w.nbroker's door.

Leger's face grew a trifle weary as he watched them.

”At the best it is a poor one,” he said. ”One feels inclined to wonder if--this--is to last forever.”

”It's too big a question. Give it up, and come out with me.”

”And let the powers that be have it all their own way?” said Leger.

”I'm afraid neither you nor I can prevent them. Besides, from what this American says, there seem to be people with grievances out yonder, too.

A good many of them, in fact. I expect there are everywhere.”

Leger smiled. ”I wonder,” he said, ”whether that has just dawned on you.

Still, I'm not so strong as you are--and there's Hetty. You'll have to go alone, but you'll leave at least two people behind you who will think of you often.”

He stopped abruptly, for there was a patter of feet on the stairway, and Ingleby rose as the door swung open and a girl came in. She carried a basket, and appeared a trifle breathless, for the stairs were steep, but her dress was tasteful, and most men would have admitted that she was pretty. She took the chair Ingleby drew out, and smiled at him.

”Do you know that the people downstairs would hardly let me in?” she said. ”You seem to be very well looked after, but I knew you wouldn't mind me. I've come for Tom.”

Ingleby laughed, but it was a trifle uneasily, for he was young, and by no means the girl's equal in the matter of self-possession. In fact, one had only to look at Hetty Leger to recognize that she was capable, and could be, on occasion, a trifle daring, for there was courage as well as cheerfulness in her clear blue eyes, which met one's glance steadily from under dark and unusually straight brows.

”You have been marketing?” he said.

Hetty nodded. ”Yes,” she answered. ”You can, if you know how to go about it, get provisions cheap after ten o'clock on Sat.u.r.day night, and I have had the usual difficulty in making ends meet this week. Wouldn't it be a relief to live in a country where there was no rent to pay and you take a spade and grow what you want to eat?”

”Ingleby's going where they do something of that kind, though I believe they now and then dig up gold and silver, too,” said her brother.

Hetty, for no ostensible reason, pulled up one of her little cotton gloves, which did not seem to need it, and then looked quietly at Ingleby.

”Then you are going away?” she asked.

Her brother nodded. ”Yes,” he said. ”To the Pacific slope of North America. He was just suggesting that we should come, too.”

Hetty sat silent for several moments.

”Well?” she said at last.

”I told him it couldn't be thought of. For one thing, it would cost a good deal of money.”

Hetty glanced swiftly at Ingleby, and an older man might have noticed the suppressed intentness in her face.

”I'm afraid Tom is right--though I wish you could come,” he said. ”When I mentioned it I didn't remember that he isn't very strong and that it must be a very rough country for an Englishwoman. You wouldn't care to live in a log hut forty miles from anywhere, Hetty?”

The girl now looked straight in front of her. ”No, I suppose not; but as I shall never get the chance, that doesn't matter. Well, I think you are wise to go. There are already more of us here than there seems to be any use for.”

Ingleby almost fancied that there was something slightly unusual in her voice; but her face was impa.s.sive, and she rose with a little smile.

”It is getting late, Tom,” she said. ”You are both going to the demonstration to-morrow?”