CHAPTER XXVIII
The Gladness
Six days went by. The weather had cleared as if by magic, abrilliant sun shone every day in a cloudless sky, and summer hadreturned again to cheer the northern land. But never a word hadcome from across the waste of grey, heaving waters, to let theanxious watchers at Seal Cove know whether the _Mary_ still lived,or whether her crew had really gone to the bottom from the littleboat which Oily Dave and his mates had found floating keel upwards.
Mrs. Jenkin still preserved her attitude of determinedcheerfulness, and persisted in her belief that no harm had come tothe vessel or the men. But she was the only one who still hoped.Mrs. Jones, the wife of Nick Jones, a woman shunned by herneighbours, and of a disposition the reverse of friendly, hadalready put on black. Her mourning garments were of ancient make,for up-to-date mourning apparel was not regarded as one of thenecessaries of life, and so it was not stocked by the store atRoaring Water Portage.
Mr. Selincourt said little, but it was easy to see how much hefeared, while Mary went about wearing such a look of bereavementthat the folk at Seal Cove were confirmed in their belief that somesort of engagement really had existed between her and the young manwho managed the business of the fishing fleet.
Katherine, shielding herself behind this mistaken belief on thepart of other people, carried her sore heart bravely through thosedays of hoping against hope and sick apprehension. The only twopeople who even suspected her suffering were her brother Miles andMr. Selincourt; but neither gave any sign of understanding thatthere might be any personal sorrow hidden under her sympathy forMrs. Jenkin and the unpleasant Mrs. Jones.
On the sixth day it became necessary for Katherine to do the longportage with supplies for the Indian encampment, which had aboutdoubled in population during the last two or three weeks. Therewas the usual bustle of getting off--the scampering of dogs backalong the portage path for fresh burdens, the shouting of Phil, andall the cheerful accompaniments of busy toil and work willinglydone. But Katherine did her part with a mechanical precision,forcing herself to this task and to that, yet feeling no zest orpleasure in anything.
Although the days were so warm and sunny, the nights and earlymornings showed already a touch of frostiness, a chilly reminder ofthe winter that was coming; and Katherine was glad to wear a coateven while she was rowing, until the second portage had beenreached. Astor M'Kree met her himself this morning, his firstquestion being the one she most dreaded to hear.
"Any news of the _Mary_ yet, Miss Radford?"
"No," she answered sadly. "Mr. Selincourt's little flag washanging at half-mast when we started this morning."
"If she has gone down, it is the first boat I've built that hascost a human life, that I know of," he said, "and it makes me feelas if I should never have the courage to build another. I've gotone on the stocks, but I haven't touched her since this news cameup river."
"But disasters at sea will come, do what you will, and the bestboat ever built would go to pieces on those Akimiski rocks,"Katherine said, trying to cheer him because he seemed so sad.
"It isn't clear to me why they were on Akimiski at all, when it wasthe Twins they were making for," he replied, in a gloomy tone."Mr. Selincourt told me the other day that he believed it would bebetter if I did my boatbuilding down below the portages; but I saidno. There is no difficulty in taking the boats down when the riveris in flood, though of course it would not be possible now; andI've got the feeling that I like to take the first risk in themmyself. It is a queer sensation, I can tell you, to feel a boatcoming to life under your feet, and when I took the _Mary_ over thefalls it was just as if she jumped forward in sheer glee, when shefelt the swing and the rush of the water swirling round her sides."
Katherine nodded, but did not speak. There was a rugged eloquenceabout the boatbuilder which always appealed to her, but thismorning it was almost more than she could bear.
"Perhaps I will come in and see Mrs. M'Kree as I come back, but Imust hurry now, for I am anxious to get my business done and turnmy face homeward as soon as I can," she said, after a little pause."Father did not seem quite so well yesterday, and Nellie thinks itis the gloom of other people which has upset him."
"Very likely: poor man, he'd be bound to be sensitive in unexpectedplaces; afflicted people mostly are. I will tell my wife you maybe in later; and look here, could you spare Phil to go to OchreLake swan-shooting this evening? My two lads and I are going, andit is always fun for a boy. I've got an old duck rifle he can use,and we'll send him down river in time to make himself usefulto-morrow morning."
One glance at Phil's face was sufficient to make Katherine decideshe could do quite well without him when she got back over thesecond portage, and so it was arranged.
The journey that day was got through sooner than usual, owingchiefly to Phil's tendency to "hustle" in order to be back in goodtime for the swan-shooting. He helped Katherine over the secondportage, and tumbled bundles of pelts and packages of dried fishinto the boat. Then, uttering a wild whoop of delight, he turnedhead over heels in the dried grass on the bank, and started backalong the portage path to the boatbuilder's house at a run.
Being in good time, Katherine did not trouble to row herself downriver, but, pushing the boat out in midstream, let it drift on thecurrent. It was a great luxury to be alone--to let her face takeon the saddest expression it could assume, to let her hands dropidly on her lap, while for a brief space she let her grief havesway. She was thinking of the day when Jervis had come over theportage to meet her, and she had been so late that he was obligedto go back before she came. What had he come to say to her thatday?
This was the question which had ceaselessly tortured Katherinethrough the days and nights since Oily Dave had brought the badnews about the _Mary_. Her heart whispered that he might have comethat day to ask her to marry him, but she was not sure. If shecould have been certain of this, then it seemed to her the worst ofher suffering would have been removed, because then she would havehad some shadow of a right to mourn for him.
But there was the portage looming in sight, and she could hear thewater rushing round the bend in the river and over the falls. Thenshe turned round in the boat, and, taking up the oars, prepared torow in to the boathouse.
A figure, partly hidden by the cottonwood and the alders, steppedforward at this moment and prepared to moor the boat for her.
Was it instinct that made her turn her head then, or was she merelylooking to see how much farther she had to row in? A frightenedcry escaped her at what she saw, and the colour ebbed from herface, leaving it ghastly white.
"Katherine, did you take me for a ghost?" asked the voice of JervisFerrars.
"I think so," she said faintly, then sent the boat with a jerkagainst the mooring post, where he tied it up for her.
"Did you really think we had gone down, or had you the cheerfulfaith of Mrs. Jenkin?"
"I--I am afraid that I had no faith at all," she said with aneffort, and never guessed how complete was her self-betrayal.
He looked at her keenly, was apparently satisfied with what he saw,then said cheerfully: "Will you row me up to Astor M'Kree's, or,rather, permit me to row you? I want to go and assure him that the_Mary_ is quite safe, and the soundest boat that ever sailed theBay. Shall we leave this luggage here, or row it up river for thesake of having a load?"
"Rowing is quite sufficient exercise without having an unnecessaryload," replied Katherine, with a shake of her head, as she handedhim the bundles to place on the bank. She was trembling so thatshe could hardly trust herself to speak, and was horribly afraid ofbreaking down like a schoolgirl, and crying from sheer joyfulness.
When the bundles were all out, Jervis got in, took the oars, andsent the boat's head round for up river again, then pulled steadilyfor a few minutes without speaking.
A boat is an awkward place for a person afflicted withself-consciousness. Katherine would have been thankful for someshelter in which to hide her face just then,
but, having none, sherushed into nervous speech instead.
"Were you in danger? Was the _Mary_ wrecked?" she asked, miserablyconscious of the unsteadiness of her voice, yet feeling altogethertoo nervous to remain silent.
"No," he said. "We have had a very easy and prosperous time,though, unfortunately, we lost one of our boats on the way out--theboat picked up by Oily Dave, which has made all the trouble. Wefell in with a lot of white porpoises; so the take has been avaluable one, and the men came home very well pleased with theventure: though Nick Jones felt his spirits rather dashed bymeeting his wife tricked out in mourning attire, and flying apennon of widowhood from the back of her bonnet."
Katherine laughed: she could imagine the tragic figure Mrs. Jonesmust have looked, and the effect the sight would have on thesusceptible nerves of a Bay fisherman. Then she said hurriedly: "Ishall have great faith in Mrs. Jenkin's judgment after this,although I have wondered how she could be so persistently hopefulin the face of such evidence as we had."
"And you yourself--how did you feel about it? Would it have madeany difference to you if I had gone under, dear?" he asked, with acaressing note in his tone that she had never heard there before.
For answer she jerked her head round, staring at the tops of thepine trees, with the blue sky behind them, but seeing nothing andheeding nothing save the world of happiness which had suddenlyopened before her astonished eyes.
It seemed a long time before any sound broke the silence save theregular splash of the oars, then Jervis said quietly: "Are youquite sure that you are not afraid to marry a poor man, Katherine?"
She looked at him with only a glance, then asked, a trifleunsteadily: "What do you mean?"
"Well, you might have looked higher, of course. I have told youhow miserably poor my people and I have been. Thanks to Mr.Selincourt, things are easier with me now; but there is a streak ofmodesty in me somewhere, and I have been afraid to ask for what Iwanted," he said, with a certain wistfulness of intonation whichbrought Katherine's glance round again.
"You need not have been afraid," she said softly.
"Because why?" he asked, in the tone of one who meant to beanswered.
Katherine looked at the tops of the pine trees again, but, findingno help there, let her gaze drop to the dancing water, and finallyfaltered in a very low voice: "Because love is better than money,or that sort of thing."
He bent forward until he could look into her downcast face, thensaid earnestly: "You mean, then, it makes no difference to you whatmy worldly position may chance to be?"
"Of course not; why should it?" she asked, her glance meeting hisnow in surprise at his earnestness.
Their progress up river was rather slow after that, and it wassomething over an hour later before they reached the secondportage. Astor M'Kree had started for the swan-shooting by thattime, and there was only his delighted wife to scream with joyfulrelief at the news, that the _Mary_ was riding safely at anchor inthe river.
"Poor Astor! He has been that down he could scarcely take hisfood," said Mrs. M'Kree, wiping away the tears which sheerhappiness had brought into her eyes.
"Get an extra big supper ready for him, then, for I expect you willfind his appetite has come back with a bounce," said Jervis,laughing. "You can tell him from me to get on with that new boatas fast as he can, and we will name it the _Katherine_."
"Are you joking?" asked Mrs. M'Kree, who had suddenly become veryserious, as she looked from Jervis to Katherine, whose face was astudy in blushes.
"No, I am quite in earnest," he answered. "But we must go now, forwe dumped a lot of fish out on the portage path, and I should notbe surprised if half the dogs in the neighbourhood are there,sampling it, when we get back."
"I hope not, or my trouble in bringing it over the long portagewill all have been thrown away," said Katherine, who could not helpsmiling at the bewilderment on the face of Mrs. M'Kree.
There was no need to row going down the river; they just sat sideby side and let the boat drift on the current, while they talked ofthe present and the future. Katherine remembered her other journeydown, earlier in the afternoon, and the bitter, black misery whichhad kept her company then.
Drifting down the river.]
"What a difference things make in one's outlook!" she exclaimed.
"What things?" he demanded.
"I was thinking of when I let the boat drift down this afternoon,"she said. "The pine trees looked so gloomy then, and those great,black spruces yonder on the bank made me think of the decorationson funeral hearses years and years ago, the sort of thing one seesonly in pictures; but now----"
"What do they let you think of now?" he asked, holding her hand ina tighter clasp, as the boat swept slowly past the funereal spruces.
"Oh! they make me think of the ornamental grounds in Montreal, orof the Swiss mountains which I see in visions when I dream I am'doing Europe', as the Yankees say," and she laughed happily at herwild flights of fancy.
"Would you like to do Europe--after we are married?" he asked, agravity coming into his tone that she could not understand.
"Why worry about the impossible?" she said gently. "Books arecheap, if travel is not, and we will do our European travel sittingby a winter fire."
"It might be possible some day; one never knows quite how thingsmay turn out," he said gravely. Then he asked: "Did anyone tellyou that I came up river to see you that afternoon before we sailedfor the Twins?"
"Yes," she answered, flushing as she remembered how much his visitand its purpose had been in her mind during those days of keenanxiety.
"I came then to ask you the question I asked just now," he saidslowly. "It has been in my heart to ask it ever since that day youhelped me across the ice, saving my life at the risk of your own.But I had my mother to support then, in part, and the burden on mewas too heavy for me to dare to put my personal happiness first.There was a letter for me in Mr. Selincourt's belated mail,however, that changed my outlook pretty considerably, and left mefree to do as I liked; so I came to you directly."
"Do you mean----?" began Katherine, then stopped in some confusion.
"Do I mean that I have only myself to keep now, were you going toask?" he said, laughing as he shifted his seat and took up the oarsto bring the boat in to the mooring post under the boathouse;"because that is just what I do mean. I have only myself to keepuntil I have the privilege of keeping you; and there will be nomore portage work for you then, I promise you."
Katherine sprang ashore, whistled for the dogs, then turned to himwith a saucy air. "Don't be too positive about the portage work;fishermen do not exactly come under the heading of the leisuredclasses, and I may be glad to earn an honest dollar where I can."