Part 45 (2/2)

There was silence for a minute or two, and Ingleby leaned upon the tree with his thoughts in confusion. He was not in love with Hetty Leger, but it was certainly a fact that her arrest had filled him with an almost unaccountable consternation. He also remembered the curious little laugh with which she had clung to him, and that it had stirred him as no trifling favour Grace Coulthurst had ever shown him had done. The commissioner's daughter had, however, certainly never leaned upon his shoulder with her arms about him, though he had on one occasion, when she was half-frozen, practically carried her into her father's dwelling.

The thought of it was, in a curious fas.h.i.+on, almost distasteful, as well as preposterous. His regard for her was largely that of a devotee, an aesthetic respect which would have made any display of purely human proclivities on the part of the G.o.ddess a trifle disconcerting.

There are men like Ingleby whose life is, partly from inclination and partly from force of circ.u.mstances, in some respects one of puritanical simplicity, especially in the back blocks of England's colonies; and, startled by Sewell's suggestion, he tried to reason with himself as he leaned against the tree. He remembered now how he had thrilled to the girl's touch as, half-crying and half-laughing, she had rested in his arms a few hours ago, and he could not admit the almost unpleasant explanation that this was because they were man and woman. Still, he had felt her heart beating upon his breast, and something in his nature had, it seemed to him, awakened and throbbed in response to it. It was, he felt, not sensual pa.s.sion; it was not love, since it was Grace Coulthurst he loved; and his confusion grew more confounded as he vainly strove to cla.s.sify it. Ingleby, as one who did the obvious thing, and was usually doing something unless he was asleep, had seldom been led into any attempt to unravel the complexities of human thought and emotion. Men of his temperament are as a rule too busy for anything of the kind. It is material facts that interest them, and their achievements are usually apparent and substantial, written in that country on hard rock and forest or on the orchards and wheatfields that smile where the wilderness has been.

”Well?” said Sewell at length.

Ingleby made a little gesture. ”The thing is done. Why I did it doesn't, after all, greatly matter. We have the results of it to face just now.”

”Precisely! That's why I'm pleased you chose a very convenient spot to chop the tree in. There's one of them becoming apparent already.”

He pointed across the fallen log, and the man who stood upon it made a little sign. The tree was in the shadow, but beyond it lay a narrow strip of moonlit snow, upon which the dusky pines closed in again. A man moved out into the strip, walking cautiously, and carrying a carbine. He stopped abruptly, dropping the b.u.t.t of it with a little thud, and, turning his head, he apparently glanced at somebody behind him.

”They've chopped a big tree right across the trail,” he said.

His voice rang clearly through the nipping air, and Ingleby almost envied him as he stood unconcernedly still, a dusky, motionless object, with a blacker shadow projected in front of him on the gleaming snow.

He, at least, had no responsibility, and was there to do what he was bidden, while the law would hold him guiltless. The brief and decisive attempt on the outpost had scarcely given Ingleby cause for thought, but it was different now. There was nothing exhilarating in standing still and wondering what course the police would take, while other men have felt misgivings when brought face to face with const.i.tuted authority with arms in its hand.

Sewell in the meanwhile moved quietly towards the fire.

”You will leave this thing to me, boys,” he said. ”Above all, keep your hands off those rifles. It's a bluff we're putting up.”

By this time several other men had moved out upon the strip of snow, and one who came up from behind walked past them and stopped not far from the tree. Ingleby could see his face in the moonlight, and recognized him as Esmond. He looked up at the man who, though he had handed his rifle to a comrade, still stood upon the log regarding him quietly.

”Well,” he said, ”what are you doing there?”

”Seeing that n.o.body gets over,” was the uncompromising answer.

Esmond laughed, as though he had partly expected this. ”There are no doubt more of you behind there. If you have one, I would prefer to talk to your recognized leader.”

Sewell sprang up upon the tree. ”I think I can venture to claim my comrades' confidence,” he said. ”In any case, I am quite willing to accept the responsibility for anything that has been done.”

”You may be asked to remember that,” said Esmond drily. ”Do you mind explaining why you felled this tree?”

”I think the man who answered you already made that clear. To prevent anybody's getting over. Once you recognize that it would be difficult to do it without our permission, we'll go a little further.”

”Then you are deliberately placing obstacles in the way of the police carrying out their duty? I warn you that it may turn out a serious matter.”

Sewell laughed. ”I'm not sure the question is a very happy one. It is rather too suggestive of Monday morning in England. Still, I suppose what we mean to do amounts to that, although we will have pleasure in permitting you to enter the valley when you wish, on one or two perfectly reasonable conditions.”

”It remains to be seen whether you can keep us out.” Esmond raised his voice a trifle. ”Climb up on that log, Trooper Grieve, and let me know who Prospector Sewell has with him,” he said. ”You have authority to fire on anybody who tries to prevent you.”

It seemed to Ingleby that Esmond had displayed a good deal of tact. He was aware that in an affair of the kind the right start counts for a good deal, and that if the miners permitted the trooper to survey their position it might lead to an unwished-for change in their att.i.tude. If they did not, it would make them the aggressors, and there was the further difficulty that they would probably shrink from offering violence to a single man.

”The trooper must not be hurt, boys, but he must not get up on the log,”

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