CHAPTER XXX
Preparations
The weeks slid past at a faster rate when the snow began to meltand the water came over the rapids with a roar, and a rush thatthreatened to sweep everything before it. Jervis went up to OchreLake a day or two after Katherine brought him that dirty fragmentof paper, and offered to buy any more of the same kind of thingwhich the Indians might happen to possess, and pay for it liberallywith tobacco. But no one appeared to know anything about thescrap, and no one had any more fragments to offer in barter, so hehad to go away with the mystery unsolved. Then a week later, whenKatherine and Miles went to the encampment with a sledgeload ofprovisions it was to find that the whole lot had vanished, leavingthe dug-outs, in which they had existed so long, deserted. Therewas no chance of tracing them, for the very next day it began tosnow again, and after two days of uninterrupted snowfall it beganto rain, and everyone realized that spring was coming.
There had been no trouble on the score of 'Duke Radford's health inthis second winter. His mind was placid, though clouded still. Hewas gentle and affectionate, and easily pleased, and he played withthe two little girls as if he had been one of themselves.
Katherine, watching him with anxious, loving eyes, noticed that nowhe clung to Nellie more than he did to her. At first this raisedan acute jealousy in her heart, for she was very human, and in hisdays of health and mental vigour her father had always clung mostto her; but a very little reflection brought her to see that thischange was really a matter for thankfulness, as he would not missher so much during her absence. It was good for Mrs. Burton, too;for the more there were to love and depend upon her the easier didshe find it to rise to the occasion, and be ready to meet all thedemands upon her.
The great difficulty in arranging for an early marriage lay insecuring a minister to perform the ceremony. Directly the waterswere open, Jervis sent men with mails to Maxohama, withinstructions to bring back a clergyman with them--the bishop ifthey could get him; but if he were not available, that is, if hisspring visitation had not begun, then some other clergyman must besecured. He also sent a letter to Mr. Selincourt, urging thatgentleman's speedy return, stating as his reason the necessitythere might be for his own absence when the fishing commenced.
When the men had gone there were other preparations to be setafoot, and, although five weeks might possibly elapse before themen returned with the clergyman, arrangements for the ceremony hadto be set about without delay, because there was so much to be done.
A wedding in that out-of-the-way place was such an extraordinaryoccasion that everyone at Seal Cove and Roaring Water Portage wouldexpect an invitation, so preparations must be made to welcome andentertain the entire population. Katherine would have muchpreferred to be quietly married in their sitting-room, with no onebut her own people to look at her; but Mrs. Burton protested loudlyat this, and even Jervis took sides with her, saying that everyonewould surely be disappointed if shut out.
"But you don't mean to ask everyone?" exclaimed Katherine.
"I expect everyone will want to come," Jervis replied, with a shrugof his broad shoulders.
"Do you mean to ask Oily Dave, Bobby Poole, and all that lot?" shecried in dismay.
"If they will come I shall be delighted to see them," he answeredgravely.
"But Oily Dave----" she began, then stopped as if she had no wordsadequate to the expression of her feelings.
"Tried to kill me once, were you going to say? I know he did. Butperhaps if he had not fastened me in, to drown like a rat in ahole, you would not have come to rescue me; and as that fact somuch out-balances the other, why, I feel rather in Oily Dave's debtthan otherwise."
It was the Sunday after the men had started with the mail forMaxohama, and Jervis was walking with Katherine in the woods abovethe first portage, while the laughing chuckle of the ptarmigansounded on all sides.
Katherine began to smile at the figure her wedding guests might beexpected to cut, then cried out in alarm: "Oh dear, whatever shallwe do if the bishop comes, as you have asked? What will he thinkof such a mixed medley of folks?"
"I have no doubt that he will think it a fine opportunity forpreaching a sermon, and, as he is really a very eloquent man, he issure to be worth listening to," Jervis said quietly.
"There is one thing Nellie and I can't agree about, and I want youto settle it for me," she said, facing round upon him with a suddengravity which surprised him, because she had been laughing only amoment before.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nellie wants to take French leave and borrow Mr. Selincourt's newhouse for the wedding; but I should hate it!" she exclaimedvehemently.
"There is no need--besides, Mr. Selincourt will probably be here.Why not use the store? Your stocks of goods are nearly at theirlowest, and the people that could not get inside could stayoutside," he said.
Katherine drew a long breath of relief; then she said softly:"Thank you; I thought you would not disappoint me. You never have;I do not think you ever will. But Nellie said--"
"Yes, what did she say?" he asked, his voice very gentle now, as ifhe understood something of the trouble and diffidence which laybehind.
"Nellie said that you would not care to be married in a countrystore, with cheese and bacon and all that sort of thing about. Sheand Ted Burton were married so, but that was different," Katherineanswered jerkily.
"The store seems to me an ideal place for the ceremony, seeing thatwe have no church. How do you feel about it yourself?" he askedabruptly.
"I should prefer it there. Only, I wanted to be sure you would notmind," she said, flinging her head up with a proud gesture,although the laughing light had come back to her eyes.
"I think, my dear, that the man who marries you will be sosupremely fortunate that it will matter nothing whether theceremony is performed in a cathedral or an Indian dug-out," hesaid, with a gravity that showed the words to be no emptycompliment, but the sincere expression of what he felt.
Katherine's lips quivered, but it was a day for smiles, not tears;so she laughed in the nervous fashion with which she was apt tocloak all deep emotion, and said: "I suppose the store may beregarded as the middle way between the cathedral and the dug-out;anyhow, it will be cleaner than the latter by a good long way. Ishall tell Nellie to-night that you are quite satisfied to bemarried in the store, and then perhaps her scruples will vanish."
"We will hope so, at all events," he answered. "The easiest way toissue invitations will be to chalk a notice on the board outsidethe store, inviting anyone who wishes to be present at the weddingof Miss Katherine Radford with Jervis Ferrars, date to be fixedlater on. That had better be attended to to-morrow, so that theintending guests may have time to get their finery all inreadiness."
"Oh, what finery it will be!" exclaimed Katherine, with a ripple ofamused laughter. "There will be the oddest assortment of garmentsthat anyone can imagine. I believe Oily Dave possesses a 'top'hat, and that will be certain to appear."
"Never mind; we shall survive, I dare say, and so will the bishopif he comes," Jervis answered; and then the talk of the twowandered on to the golden future which they were to spend together,while the glad sunshine filtered down upon them through the pineboughs, and the world was a joyous place because of the love whichmade everything beautiful.
Jervis chalked the general invitation to the wedding on the boardoutside the store next day, and great was the satisfaction whichthe announcement produced. If everyone was invited, then no onefelt left out in the cold; and immediately there ensued a greatbustle of preparation for the function, which certainly would bethe event of the year to the dwellers on the bay shore.
Katherine and Mrs. Burton were busier than anyone, for they had thestore to spring-clean, and that was a task calling for hard workand careful management. There was also the question of weddinggarments; but these, in consideration of the limited stock ofmaterials at their disposal, could not amount to much. For abridal dress, Katherine had decided on a wh
ite embroidered muslinwhich had been her one extravagance when she was in Montreal, andwhich was made with a high neck and long sleeves. Sometimes shewondered if embroidered muslin were quite the right material forthe wedding dress of a fisherman's wife; but as she had no otherfrock which would serve, it had to be that or nothing.
The days slipped away one by one, and at last they were watchinghourly for the return of the men who had been sent to Maxohama forthe clergyman. It was a glorious day early in June when Katherine,who had been over to Fort Garry with Phil, was rowing up the backcreek, and came suddenly upon quite a procession of small boatswhich was passing up river.
"Hurrah! It is Mr. Selincourt!" yelled Phil, pulling off his capand waving it like mad.
"And Mary!" exclaimed Katherine, who suddenly went rosy red, for inthe last boat of all was an elderly man, with a kind face and aclerical air, whom she instantly recognized as the bishop from thedescription Jervis had given her of him.
"Katherine, Katherine, how bonny you look!" cried Mary, and thenthe boats came nearer together, and greetings became general.
Katherine was introduced to the bishop, who bowed and smiled in akindly fashion, although introductions at fifteen or twenty yardsapart are rather awkward affairs. Then Mary insisted on beingtransferred to Katherine's boat, and as unceremoniously orderedPhil to occupy the place she was leaving.
"Oh, my dear, I am glad to be back again!" she cried, as shesettled herself on the seat from which she had just turned Phil.
"We are very glad to see you back," Katherine answered soberly.The sight of the bishop had set her pulses fluttering wildly, andshe was hardly mistress of herself again, as yet.
"The journey has been delightful," Mary rattled on, understandingthe cause of Katherine's fluctuating colour, and anxious to giveher time to recover from her confusion. "We are such a largeparty, too, that it has been like a perpetual picnic, with only twodrawbacks which really mattered."
"What were they?" asked Katherine, supposing the drawbacks to besome item of portage discomfort, or rainstorms which came at thewrong time.
"The first was a horrid little man, a Mr. Clay, who has come allthe way from England to see Mr. Ferrars, and begged to be allowedto attach himself to our party. A perfect little kill-joy he is,so prim, so proper and precise, that one is tempted to believe hemust have been born a grown-up, and so has had no childhood at all."
"Where is he now? I did not notice that there was another strangerbeside the bishop," said Katherine, turning her head to look at theother boats, which were leading.
"We left him behind at the fish sheds with Mr. Ferrars," saidMary. "He has his own boat and his own men. He turns hisaristocratic little nose up at everything Canadian, and loudlypities anyone who is fated to live two or three hundred miles froma railway depot. But he apparently has the most utter admirationfor Mr. Ferrars, and the fright he was in the day we found thebones was, I am quite sure, entirely due to a fear he had lest itwas Mr. Ferrars who had come to grief."
"What bones, and where did you find them?" asked Katherine, with astart.
Mary shrugged her shoulders and answered: "Two days ago we did aportage on the Albany, and came, at camping time, upon the gruesomespectacle of two skeletons lying side by side under a littleshelter formed of snowshoes and spruce boughs. We supposed thatthey must have been the Indians dispatched from Maxohama months agowith mails, only there were no mail bags, and no food bags either;so, of course, they might have been only ordinary Indians on ajourney. Our portage men insisted that the remains were those ofIndians, to the intense relief of Mr. Clay. The poor man wasplainly in a great state of worry about the remains, and keptquestioning Father as to whether there would be any likelihood ofMr. Ferrars trying to work his way down to the railroad inmidwinter."
"I should think those Indians must have been the men who werebringing the mail, and probably they were caught in a snowstorm anddied in their sleep," said Katherine.
"In that case what had become of the mail bags and the food sacks?"asked Mary.
"Stolen, doubtless, by other Indians," replied Katherine, who thentold Mary of the discovery she had made of the fragment of a letterin the hands of a child at the Ochre Lake encampment.
"So you never had that mail? Oh, you poor things, what a long timeyou have been without any news of the outside world!" cried Mary.
"But we have survived it, you see," Katherine answered with alaugh. Then she asked Mary if she would not like to be rowed tothe store first, before going to inspect the new house.
"Yes, please; I want to see your father and Mrs. Burton, to saynothing of the twins and Miles," Mary answered eagerly. Then shesaid, with a wistful note in her voice: "You will let me bebridesmaid tomorrow?"
"To-morrow?" repeated Katherine in surprise. Then, blushingvividly, she answered: "But I am not sure that it will beto-morrow."
"I am," replied Mary calmly, "for the simple reason that the bishopstarts the day after for Marble Island, which he hopes to reachbefore the whalers are all broken out of the ice. Father is goingto send him up the bay in the best available boat. You will let mebe bridesmaid, won't you?"
"If you wish, certainly," said Katherine; then the boat bumpedagainst the mooring post and was made fast, after which the twogirls walked up to the store together.
'Duke Radford was sitting in the sunshine, looking dreamily outover the river, which at this time of the year was at its widestand highest. He rose with a pleased exclamation when Mary cameinto view, and took off his hat with a courtly air.
"I remember you quite well, and your coming always used to make mehappy, but I have forgotten your name," he said, apologetically.
"Call me Mary; it is easy to remember," she answered in a gentletone. Then she stayed in the sunshine talking to him, until Mrs.Burton and the twins rushed out to carry her off by force.
It was Miles who rowed Mary over the river, for a fit of shynesscame upon Katherine, and she was not visible to many people excepther own family for the remainder of that day. Jervis came over inthe evening, and there was a troubled look on his face whichKatherine noticed at once.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, a chill of fear creeping into herheart lest even at this eleventh hour something was coming to standbetween her and her happiness.
"I have only had a few more cares and responsibilities dumped uponme than I had bargained for," he answered. "Do you feel equal tohelping me to bear them?"
"Of course," she answered brightly.
"Did they tell you about Mr. Clay's arrival?" he asked, holding herhands, and looking down into her face with an expression she couldby no means fathom.
"Yes; Mary told me about him. She said he was a horrid little man.Is it true?" Katherine asked, smiling at the remembrance of Mary'senergetic utterances.
"I think he means to be very kind," Jervis answered; "but thejourney has got on his nerves rather. However, I helped him to ahot bath, and now he has gone to bed in a happier frame of mind;and he wants to be best man to-morrow, so I have squared matterswith Miles. Do you mind?"
"Of course not," she answered brightly, thrusting back the feelingof not wanting any more strangers to intrude themselves into thatholy of holies which was to take place to-morrow.
"Mr. Clay is the----I mean, he is a friend of the family, and hehas been good to my mother," Jervis went on, a curious air ofconstraint showing itself in him, which might have been due tonervousness, although he was not wont to be troubled in thatfashion. "Cousin Samuel died in February, and affairs have been atsixes and sevens since, wanting my presence in England."
"You will have to go, then?" she asked quickly.
"We must start next week, I think," he answered, with an emphasison the pronoun that set her heart at rest. "Mr. Clay is going onto Marble Island with the bishop to-morrow. He wants to see ifthere is any boat there which will serve to take us round toHalifax when the Strait is open. If not, we shall have to go byriver and trail to Maxohama; but I want to spare you that fatigue
if I can, for you have done quite enough portage work already."
"I would just as soon face the portages as the sea-sickness whichwill inevitably be my portion going through the Strait," sheanswered, with a laugh. "But where do the troubles come in,Jervis? Did your cousin die poor?"
"Time enough to hear about the troubles when to-morrow comes. I amnot going to worry you with them to-night."