She had never gone so far alone, though she had occasionally driven to an outlying farm, and the expedition had in it the zest1 of adventure. Moreover, she was boldly going to undertake a very unusual task in showing Prescott what he ought to do. So far, she had been an interested spectator of the drama of life, but now she would participate in it, exercising such powers as she possessed2, and the thought was additionally fascinating because among her intimate friends she could not pick out a man who owed much to a woman’s guidance. Her sister had some mental gifts, but Harry3 Colston, disregarding her in a good-humored but dogged fashion, did what he thought best; while the idea of Jernyngham’s deferring4 273 to Gertrude was frankly5 ridiculous. Neither man had much ability; indeed, it was, as a rule, the dullest men who were most convinced of their superior sense. Prescott far surpassed them in intellect; but she pulled herself up. She was not going to dwell on Prescott’s virtues6 unduly7, and she had not convinced him yet.
The team gave her no trouble, the trail was good, and reaching Sebastian safely, she spent some time in a drygoods store, and afterward8 went to the hotel, where supper was being served. She would not have waited for it, only that she had seen nothing of Prescott, and she had the excuse that the team must have a rest. On entering the big dining-room she was inclined to regret that meals can rarely be had in private in the West, although, by the favor of a waitress, she succeeded in obtaining a small table to herself. There were only two women present, clerks in the store, she believed, but the room was nearly filled with men. Among them were ranchers with faces darkened by the glare of the snow, some of them wearing shabby coats from which the fur was coming off, though the room was warm; a few railroad hands who laid sooty mittens9 on the table; the smart station-agent; a number of storekeepers and clerks. Now and then boisterous10 laughter rang out, and one group indulged in rather pointed11 banter12, while the way that several of them used their knives and forks left much to be desired; but nobody regarded the girl with marked attention. For all that, she was sensible of some relief when Prescott came in and moved toward her table.
“May I take this place?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said.
After speaking to a waitress, he inquired whether Colston or her sister were at the hotel. 274
“No; I drove in alone.”
She saw his surprise, which suggested that her task might prove more difficult than she had imagined.
“Well,” he said, “the trail’s pretty good and there’s a moon to-night; but didn’t you hesitate about getting supper here by yourself?”
“Not very much; there was really no reason why I should hesitate.”
“That’s true. But you had your doubts?”
“They were foolish,” Muriel told him. “Why are you so curious?”
“I’m interested.” He indicated the room and its occupants. “These people, their manners, and surroundings are typical of the New West.”
“Do you feel that you ought to defend them?”
“Oh, no! They don’t need it. They have their faults and their virtues, and neither are mean. They’ve the makings of a big nation and they’re doing great work to-day. However, you had certainly no cause for uneasiness; there’s not a man in the place who would have shown you the least disrespect.”
“After all,” Muriel contended, “they’re not your people. You came from Montreal; your ideas and habits are more like ours than theirs.”
“They’re mine by adoption13; I’ve thrown in my lot with them.” He fixed14 his eyes on her. “Do you know the secret of making colonization15 a success? In a way, it’s a hard truth, but it’s this—there must be no looking back. The old ties must be cut loose once for all; a man must think of the land in which he prospers16 as his home; it’s not a square deal to run back with the money he has made in it. He must grow up with the rising nation he becomes a member of.” 275
“Yes,” Muriel conceded slowly; “I think that is so. But it’s harder for a woman.”
“And yet have you seen any one who looked unhappy?”
“No,” she admitted with thoughtful candor17. “The few I have got to know seem to have an importance that perhaps is not very common at home. For instance, I heard Leslie giving his wife his reasons for thinking of buying some Hereford cattle, and his respect for her opinion impressed me.”
Prescott smiled.
“If I were going to sell those beasts, I’d rather make the deal with her husband.”
Then he changed the subject and they talked in a lighter18 vein19 until the room began to empty and a waitress came to collect the plates.
“Don’t they close this place as soon as supper is finished?” Muriel asked, trying to overcome her diffidence. “Where can I have a word or two with you? I was afraid that somebody might overhear us here.”
“The parlor20 would be best,” he answered in some surprise. “The boys prefer the downstairs room and the bar. I’ll tell the man about my horse, and then I’ll be there.”
Muriel found the few minutes she had to wait trying, but she gathered her courage when he joined her.
“Sit down,” she said with an air of decision. “I’d better begin at once, and the thing is serious. What have you done to clear yourself, since I last saw you?”
His searching glance filled her with misgivings21; without being subtle, he was by no means dull, and he must be curious about her motive22 in asking him. To her relief, however, he confined himself to the point she had raised.
“Nothing. I don’t see what can be done.” 276
“Then are you content to remain suspected?”
“No; I’m not content! But as I seem to be helpless, the fools who can only judge by appearances and the others who are quick to think the worst of me must believe what they like. Anyway, their opinion doesn’t count for much.”
“How can people judge except by appearances?” Muriel argued. “Besides, do you divide everybody you know into those two classes?”
He looked hard at her and, to her annoyance23, she grew confused.
“No,” he said slowly; “that would be very wrong—I was too quick. There are a few with generous minds who haven’t turned against me and I’m very grateful.”
“It might have been enough if you had said they had sense; but don’t you feel you owe them something? Is it fair to keep silence and do nothing while they fight your battle?”
“Are there people who are doing so?”
“Yes,” Muriel answered steadily24. “You oughtn’t to doubt it. You’re wronging your friends.”
His expression betokened25 a strong effort at self-control.
“Well,” he said, “it seems I have a duty to them, but how I’m to get about it is more than I know.”
“Have you thought of telling the police about your journey to British Columbia and what you learned about Cyril Jernyngham?”
“I’m afraid they wouldn’t believe me. Then there’s the trouble that the man I followed called himself Kermode.”
“Never mind. Tell them; tell everybody you know.”
“It would be useless,” Prescott said doggedly26.
“You’re wrong,” Muriel persisted. “When a thing 277 is talked about enough, people begin to believe it. Besides, it would give your supporters an argument against the doubtful. I’m afraid they need one after the finding of the clothes.”
“The clothes? What clothes?”
Muriel’s faith in Prescott had never been shaken, but his surprise caused her keen satisfaction, and she told him all she knew about Jernyngham’s discovery.
“Still, I don’t see what finding them there could signify,” he said when she had finished.
“Then you don’t know that a day or two after Cyril Jernyngham disappeared, a man dressed in clothes like those found, sold some land of his at a place called Navarino?”
Prescott started.
“It’s the first I’ve heard of it. There’s some villainy here; the things must have been hidden near my house with the object of strengthening suspicion against me!”
“Of course! But you can’t think that Jernyngham had a hand in it?”
“Oh, no! The man is trying to ruin me, but that kind of meanness isn’t in his line. Perhaps I’d better say that I never had clothes like those and that I sold no land of Cyril’s.”
“Mr. Prescott,” Muriel murmured shyly, “it isn’t necessary to tell me this; I never doubted it.”
“Thank you,” he answered shortly, but there was trouble in his voice and the girl thought she knew what his reticence27 cost.
“Well,” she said, “you will tell other people this and go to see Corporal Curtis? You agreed that women have some power here, and, even if you’re not convinced, you will do what I ask because I wish it?” 278
“You have my promise.”
He walked toward the window and stood looking out for a moment or two before he turned to her again.
“Don’t you think you had better start for home? The moon looks hazy28. May I drive out with you?”
Muriel had shrunk from the long journey in the dark, and she readily agreed.
“I’ll tell them to bring your team round,” he said, moving toward the door. “Get off as soon as you’re ready, and I’ll come along when I’ve collected a few things I bought.”
The girl let him go, appreciating his consideration, for she guessed his thoughts. He was under suspicion and would give the tatlers in the town nothing on which to base conjectures29. It hurt her pride, however, to admit that such precautions had better be taken.
Leaving the hotel, she found the trail smooth when she had crossed the track, but after she passed the last of the fences the waste looked very dreary30. The moon was dimmed by thin, driving clouds, and the deep silence grew depressing; the loneliness weighed on her, and she began to listen eagerly for the beat of hoofs31. For a time she heard nothing and she had grown angry with Prescott for delaying when a measured drumming stole out of the distance and her feeling of cheerfulness and security returned. Its significance was not lost on her: she was learning to depend on the man, to long for his society. Then, for no obvious reason, she urged the team and kept ahead for a while. When he came up with an explanation about a missing package, she laughed half-mockingly, and on the whole felt glad that the narrowness of the trail, which compelled him to follow, made conversation difficult. 279
An hour after she left the settlement the moon was hidden and fine snow began to fall. It grew thicker, gradually covering the trail, until Muriel had some difficulty in distinguishing it. The sleigh was running heavily, and after a while Prescott told her to stop.
“I’ll go ahead, and then you can follow my buggy,” he said. “There won’t be much snow.”
Muriel felt that there was quite enough to have made her very anxious had she been alone, but when he passed and took his place in front she drove on in confidence. She remembered that this was not a new feeling. He was a man who could be trusted; one felt safe with him. Now and then she could hardly see the buggy and she was glad of his cheery laugh and the somewhat inconsequent remarks he flung back to her when the haze32 of driving flakes33 grew thicker. So far as she could see, the trail now differed in nothing from the rest of the wilderness34, but he held on without hesitation35, and she felt no surprise when once or twice a belt of trees she remembered loomed36 up. They made better progress when the snow ceased, and at length Prescott stopped his horse and she saw a faint blink of light some distance off.
“That’s Leslie’s,” he said. “Shall I drive to the house with you?”
“No, that isn’t needful, thank you.”
“Then I’ll wait until I see the door open. I’ll look up Curtis in the morning.”
Muriel turned off toward the farm, where she found Colston and her sister disturbed by her absence.
“Where have you been?” Mrs. Colston asked. “You have frightened us. Harry would have driven out to look for you if he had known which way to go.”
“I went to the settlement. I bought the things we 280 spoke37 about, and I met Mr. Prescott, who brought me home.” Muriel spoke in a tone that discouraged further questions. “Now I’m very cold, Harry, you might shake the snow from those furs.”
She left them soon afterward, pleading fatigue38, and went to sleep, feeling satisfied with what she had done and knowing that Prescott would keep his promise.
Her confidence was justified39, for on the following day he drove over to the police post and found Curtis alone.
“I’ve come to tell you something and I’ll ask you to let me get through before you begin to talk,” he said.
Curtis showed no surprise and indicated a chair.
“Sit there and go ahead.”
He listened with close attention while Prescott described his journey and recounted all that he had learned about Kermode.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Curtis asked.
“I couldn’t imagine that you would believe it.”
“Then what makes you think I’ll believe it now?”
“To be honest, I don’t care whether you do or not.”
Curtis sat silent a few moments.
“What you have told me amounts to this,” he then summed up: “you have heard of a man who seems to look like Cyril Jernyngham.”
“It’s as much to the purpose that he acts like him. I’ve told you all I learned about his doings and you can judge for yourself. You knew the man.”
“So do you,” said Curtis pointedly40.
Prescott smiled.
“Leave it at that. I want you to find out whether I’m correct or not. You made some inquiries41 along the new line?” 281
“We didn’t go far west,” Curtis admitted. “There were difficulties, and we couldn’t see much reason for the search. It was quite clear to me that Jernyngham was knocked out near the muskeg.” He looked hard at Prescott. “It isn’t easy to change that opinion.”
“It seems your duty to test it. Even if the thing costs some trouble, can’t you instruct your people in Alberta to find out whether a man called Kermode worked in any of the construction camps, and if they’re satisfied that he answers Jernyngham’s description, to have him followed up in British Columbia?”
“There’s a point you haven’t got hold of,” Curtis replied. “When you struck a camp, asking after your partner, the boys were ready to talk to you; but it’s quite different when a trooper comes along. I wouldn’t have much use for anything they told him.”
Prescott realized the truth of this. Traveling on foot in search of a working comrade, he had been received by the railroad hands as one of themselves; but he knew that men with checkered42 careers which would not bear investigation43 found refuge among the toilers on the new lines, and that even those who had nothing to fear would consider reticence becoming when questioned by the police. The only excuse for loquacity44 would be the sending of an inquisitive45 constable46 on a fruitless expedition.
“Then can’t you try the bosses?” he asked.
“I guess they’re not likely to have found out much about the man, and the boys wouldn’t tell them. However, I’ll send up a report and see what can be done.”
“Thanks,” said Prescott, and then asked bluntly: “What do you make of the brown clothes?”
“So you heard they were found!” said Curtis with 282 some dryness. “I haven’t done figuring on the matter yet.”
“I don’t suppose I’d help you by saying that they don’t belong to me.”
Curtis looked at him thoughtfully but made no answer for a while. Then:
“Did you ever see anybody wearing a suit like that?” he asked.
“Well,” Prescott answered, “I believe I once did, but I can’t think who it was. I’ve been trying hard to remember all day and it may come back.”
He got up and Curtis walked to the door with him.
“Frost’s keeping pretty keen,” he remarked.
Prescott drove away, and the corporal was smoking near the stove when Stanton came in.
“You look as if you’d been studying the Jernyngham case,” he said. “I’ll allow it’s enough to get on your nerves.”
“Prescott’s been here,” replied Curtis. “He’s heard those blamed clothes were found, and that’s going to make us trouble. We’ve had Jernyngham interfering47 and mussing up the tracks, and now Prescott’s getting ready to butt48 in. I expect he’ll be off to Navarino very soon, and we can’t stop him unless we arrest him, which I’m not ready to do.”
“Did he tell you he was going?”
“It wasn’t needed; I’ve been figuring out the thing.”
“Well,” remarked Stanton with a thoughtful air, “he wouldn’t let that land agent see him if he’d been guilty.”
Curtis reserved his opinion.
“You’re getting smart,” he said with a grin. “Still, you don’t want to hustle49.” 283
“Hustle?” Stanton rejoined scornfully. “Jernyngham was killed last summer and we haven’t corralled anybody yet!”
“That’s so,” Curtis assented50 tranquilly51, “I’ve heard of the boys getting the right man nearly two years afterward.”
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1
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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4
deferring
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| v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的现在分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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5
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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6
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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7
unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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8
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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9
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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adoption
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| n.采用，采纳，通过；收养 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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15
colonization
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| 殖民地的开拓，殖民，殖民地化； 移殖 | |
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16
prospers
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| v.成功，兴旺( prosper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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18
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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checkered
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| adj.有方格图案的 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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loquacity
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| n.多话，饶舌 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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46
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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49
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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50
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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