Part 38 (2/2)

”I don't think you really believe that,” he said.

”Perhaps I don't,” and Grace appeared to reflect. ”At least, I suppose I shouldn't have done so once, but, of course, a prospector who has done sufficiently well for himself can take any place that pleases him in Canada.”

”Still, you don't think that right.”

”It would naturally depend a good deal upon the prospector.”

Ingleby sat still, almost too still, in fact, for a moment or two; but he could not hide the little gleam in his eyes. He had, it is true, democratic views, that is, so far as everybody but Grace Coulthurst was concerned; but he was quite willing to admit that she was a being of a very different and much higher order than his own. That added to the attraction she had for him; and now she had suggested that they were, after all, more or less on the same level. It was almost disconcerting.

He did not know what to make of it; but while he pondered over it she flashed a quick glance at him.

”I wonder if you know how Tomlinson got away?” she asked.

It was apparently an astonis.h.i.+ngly abrupt change of subject, but when Ingleby, who had grown wiser in the meanwhile, afterwards recalled that night, he was less sure that it might not have been, after all, part of an instinctive continuity of policy. He had discovered by then that even very charming and ingenuous women not infrequently have a policy.

”I don't mind admitting that I do--to you,” he said.

Grace was pleased and showed it. It is gratifying to feel that anybody has complete confidence in one, and the possession of a common secret of some importance is not infrequently a bond between the two who share it.

Ingleby realized this and felt with a curious gratification that the girl recognized it as clearly as he did. Still, she had said nothing that could lead him to believe so.

”Then you no doubt know where he went?” she asked.

”I naturally know that, too.”

Grace smiled. ”That means you helped him to get away. Are you wise in admitting that you were an accessory? Captain Esmond is a friend of ours.”

Ingleby made her a little whimsical inclination, though there was a look in his eyes which was not quite in keeping with it.

”I am,” he said, ”quite safe in your hands.”

It was a fortunate answer, and worth the more because he was not usually a very tactful person, as the girl was aware. She was afflicted by a craving for influence, and it was not the adulation of men she wanted, but an insight into their thoughts and purposes, and the privilege of controlling them. Thus Ingleby, who did not know it, could not have done more wisely than he did in admitting that he had an unquestioning confidence in her. He was, as she had discovered some time ago, in spite of his simplicity, a man capable of bold conceptions and resolute execution, the type of man, in fact, that usually came to the front in Western Canada. She had the intelligence to realize and weigh all this, and yet there was a strain of pa.s.sion in her which he had awakened.

”I almost think you are,” she said. ”How is the new claim progressing?”

”Reasonably well. In fact, although Sewell is apparently getting rich on the one I threw away, I can't complain. What he makes will, at least, be spent on what he thinks is doing good, while I want mine for my own selfish purposes.”

”They are necessarily selfish?”

Ingleby laughed, though the little glow crept into his eyes again.

”Well,” he said, ”I suppose so. You see, a third-share in Tomlinson's claim is not of itself of much value to me. It only provides the money to make a start with.”

Grace nodded comprehendingly. He was crude in his mode of expression, but she understood him.

”That implies a going on?” she asked.

”It does,” and Ingleby laughed. ”There is room, I think, in this Province for men who will take big risks, and boldly stake what they have on the advancement of its prosperity. I'm not sure there is any reason I shouldn't be one of them.”

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