CHAPTER XVIII
THE BETRAYAL
Granger had been sick and delirious for several days as a result ofexposure and starvation. Day and night Peggy had nursed him withunwearying attention; one would have supposed that he had been alwayskind to her, and that she was greatly in his debt. Since his brain hadcleared she had said little to him; but, when she touched him, hecould feel the thrill of passion that travelled through her hands. Herface told him nothing; it was only when suddenly she raised up hereyes that he saw the longing which they could not hide. Because hereyes betrayed her, she rarely looked at him. He would gladly havespoken with her frankly, but her reserve deterred him, and, moreover,a great anxiety weighed upon his mind--he did not know how many of hissecrets and hidden intentions he had let out in his ravings. Thealtered bearing of his companions made him aware that they had eachlearnt something fresh about himself, one another, and the manner inwhich he regarded them. The Man with the Dead Soul was aloneunchanged.
So he sat among them on his couch of furs as morosely as Beornhimself, striving to grope his way back into the darkness from whichhis mind had issued, torturing himself to remember how much his lipshad admitted during the time when his vigilance was relaxed. He couldonly recall the shadows of his words and acts; the real things, whichlurked behind the shadows, continually evaded capture. Yet it seemedto him that he must have laid bare all his life, confessing to Eyelidsand his sister his every affection and his every treachery, whetheraccomplished or intended.
Then, if he had done that, he had told Peggy to her face how he waspurposing to desert her! It was this suspicion which kept him silent;he waited for her to reveal herself. But she refused to help him; inher looks there was no condemnation, and in her treatment of himnothing but gentleness. Surely there should have been contempt, if shehad known _all_ about him!
Two pictures stood out so sharply from the background chaos of hisimpressions, that he believed them to be veritable memories. The onewas of Peggy kneeling at his side, taking him in her arms, as thoughhe were a child, and laying his head upon her breast, and of himselfmistaking her for his mother or Mordaunt, and speaking to her allmanner of tenderness. The other was of his perpetual terror lestSpurling had gone southward without him, having stolen his share ofthe treasure; and of one night when Peggy to quiet him had roused upEyelids, who had brought in Spurling--and Spurling's hands were bound.
When he had come to himself, his first action had been to look roundfor Spurling--and he was not there. Two days had now passed, and therewas still no sign of him. As his strength returned, the fear of hisdelirium gained ground upon him--lest Spurling had escaped. Broodingover the past with a sick man's fancy, he discovered a new cause foragitation--_if Spurling had departed, he would never know the truthabout Mordaunt_. For the recovery of the gold he scarcely cared now;the apparent actualness of Mordaunt's presence, bending over him inhis delirium, had recalled her vividly to his memory, awakening thepassion which he had striven to crush down, so that now it seemedall-important to him that he should ask Spurling that one question,"Was the body that was found near Forty-Mile clothed in a woman'sdress?"
The return of a certain season, which the mind has associated with aspecial experience, will often arouse and poignantly concentrate anold emotion, which has been almost forgotten throughout the othermonths of the year. The arrival of Spurling, and the agony which hehad suffered when he had begun to suspect that the woman whom he lovedwas dead, had happened when the snow was on the ground; perhaps it wasthe sight of the frozen river and the white landscape which now causedhim to remember so furiously the vengeance which he had planned,should Mordaunt prove to be the woman whom Spurling had murdered. So,for the time being, the seeking of El Dorado and preserving of his ownlife seemed paltry objects when compared with the asking of thatquestion, and the exacting, if need be, of the necessary revenge.
On the third day after the recovery of his senses he could endure hissuspicions no longer. Peggy had gone out for a little while; Eyelidswas busy in the store; only the Man with the Dead Soul was left withhim in the shack. Seizing his opportunity, he got up and dressed. Hewas so weak that at first he could scarcely stand. Tottering towardthe door, he already had his hand upon the latch when Beorn arose andfollowed him. Though Granger had asked him no question, "I will showyou," he said.
Outside they met Peggy returning; but her father waved her sternlyaside, and, putting his arms about Granger to support him, guided himto the back of Bachelors' Hall. A stoutly built cabin was there, whichstood by itself and was windowless, the door of which was iron-boundand padlocked; it was used as a cell in which Indians and half-breedswere kept, should they grow refractory. Producing the key, he openedthe door; as they entered they were greeted with a volley of curses.
In the farthest corner lay a man, crouched on a bed of mouldy furs.The cell was not often used, and was covered with decayingfungus-growth from the dampness of the past summer. When Granger triedto speak to him, his voice was drowned by the sort of noise that a dogmakes when it comes out from its kennel; then he saw that Spurling waschained low down to the floor by his hands and feet, so that he couldnot stand upright. With an hysteric cry of gladness he ran forward,and was only saved from Spurling's teeth, as he bent back his head, byBeorn, who pushed him to one side so heavily that he fell to theground. Then Eyelids came in, and picked him up and carried him backto the shack.
For the next few days he had plenty of leisure to reflect. He wonderedwhether Beorn's treatment of Spurling, and the fact that he had shownhim to him on the earliest occasion, was meant as a threat to himself;or had the disclosures which he had made in his delirium given him theimpression that he also was entirely Spurling's enemy. The bearing ofEyelids and of Peggy led him to believe that the latter suppositionwas correct. His natural instinct was to free the man at once,--buthe thought better of it; Spurling would be at least kept out ofmischief there till he himself was well.
Now that his mind was at ease, he commenced to mend rapidly; when twomore days had passed, he was up and able to get about without muchhelp. On visiting the trading-store he found that his canoe was lyingthere, just as he had brought it back; nothing of its contents hadbeen removed or unpacked. He sat down beside it, and tried toformulate his plans.
So far, in spite of his illness, everything had happened for the best.Spurling was safe until he should require him. The gold was now in hisabsolute possession. Very shortly Eyelids and Beorn would set out ontheir winter's hunt, leaving him, save for Peggy, free to actunobserved. But he had made a discovery, the knowledge of whichdisturbed him--that a part, at least, of the reason for Peggy'sreticence and new gentleness was that before long she would be amother. That fact made him feel differently towards her; he could notnow desert her, for it would mean abandoning his child.
When he pictured to himself what the Northland might do for a childwho was fatherless, especially if it were a girl, he knew that,whatever plans he made, they must include his half-breed wife.Moreover, her approaching maternity appealed to the chivalry in hisnature, making him ashamed that he had ever thought to leave her.Until his child was born, at whatever risk to himself, he mustpostpone his departure and lie in hiding at Murder Point. And afterthat? He must take her into his confidence, as he should have donelong ago, as if she were all white. He would have to leave her behindat first, but would make arrangements for her to follow after him whenthe road was clear.
Having arrived at this point, his train of reasoning was broken off bythe appearance of Eyelids, who came to ask for two outfits, and toinform him that he and Beorn had determined to set out on the wintertrail that night. The rest of the day was spent in preparations, andthe getting together of their teams of huskies.
Just before they left, a visit was paid to Spurling in the cabin, andthe key was handed over to Granger. While there, Granger referred tothe matter which he had been wanting to mention all day. Turning toEyelids, as though it were of little importance, he said, "Before youreturn, as I daresay you
've noticed, something will have happened. Iwant you to promise me to come back for Christmas Eve, so that we maycelebrate the event." Then, throwing aside his disguise ofindifference, he spoke more earnestly, "I want you and Beorn topromise me that."
Spurling looked sharply up from his corner; being ignorant of thematter which Granger hinted at, he watched to see if the wordscontained a reference to himself. Peggy turned her head away and beganto steal softly out. But her brother stayed her, and throwing his armabout her shoulder, said, "I promise you; we shall return." And Beorngave him his hand as a sign of his assent.
They closed and locked the door on the prisoner, and the father andson set out.
A sudden instinct for carefulness had prompted him to make thatrequest. At the last moment he had thought that he noticed on Beorn'spart a certain uneasiness in handing over to him the custody ofSpurling. He was afraid that the distrust might grow upon him, causinghim to return unexpectedly, perhaps just at the time when he andSpurling were starting on their southward journey. It was to preventsuch an interference with his plans that he had named a definite timefor their next meeting, for, by so doing, he had given Beorn tounderstand that he intended to remain at Murder Point throughoutDecember. The hinting at the birth of his child had added to hisrequest a show of naturalness, and had at the same time let them knowthat he was aware of his wife's condition--a difficult knowledge tocommunicate to people who spoke rarely, and then only of trivialaffairs. As yet he had not decided as to when he would set out, for hehesitated between the manfully fulfilling of his new responsibilityand the callously accomplishing of his old purpose; if he shouldchoose the latter, he had provided for Peggy so that she would not beleft too long by herself, by the promise which he had exacted from herbrother and father to return for Christmas Eve.
For the first time he was left truly alone with her. Standing side byside, they watched the trappers descend the Point to the pier, wheretheir dogs lay waiting them. The whips cracked and the teamsstraightened out.
For a few strides they moved toward the opposite bank and then, toGranger's amazement, wheeled to the left, and commenced travellingup-river to the west. The loaded sleds swung lightly over the ice and,as he listened, the shouting of the drivers and the yelping of thehuskies grew fainter, till they were no more heard. He was madeterribly afraid by the direction they had taken, for he knew thatBeorn's trapping grounds had always lain to the northwards, and neveraround God's Voice; they were still less likely to do so now, since hehad quarrelled with the factor. Then why had he gone to the west?
He turned to the girl at his side to question her, "Did you know thatthey were going there?" he said. She did not answer him; he saw thather eyes were intently fixed upon the bend. Her lips moved, and herhands made the sign of the cross upon her breast as if she werepraying. Without replying, she entered the shack.
He did not follow her, for his feelings were changed with anger. Hefelt that, whether knowingly or unknowingly, they had betrayed himthrough their secretiveness. While he had been absent they must haveheard that Spurling was a man with a price upon his head. They mighteven have learnt it from Pilgrim at the time of his June visit, buthad not laid hands upon him because he had appeared to be his friend.But now since their return, in his delirium he had probably utteredwords concerning Spurling which had left them with the impression thathe desired his death--and had given them their excuse for gratifyingtheir own covetousness and revenge for the Forbidden River trespass.
Even what he had said to them about returning for Christmas Eve mighthave been taken as having a double meaning, referring not only to thebirth of the child, but also to the thousand-dollar reward to begained by the arrest. Spoken as it was, in the prison-cabin, that wasmost likely how it had been taken. Since they had accepted him astheir confederate, it seemed evident that they did not know that thearrest of Spurling might entail his own hanging. If all that he hadconjectured was true, he had now no option but to release Spurling andto make good his escape with him at once; for from Murder Point toGod's Voice was no more than seventy miles. At once! But he would notbe strong enough to travel for some days yet, and Spurling could notbe in very excellent condition for such a journey--to be thrown intoan out-house and left there for a fortnight, with back bent double andarms and legs bound, is not the best kind of training.
Before doing anything rash he would talk to Peggy, and find out howmuch she knew about it. Following her into the shack, he made fast thedoor and threw himself on the pile of furs which had been his couch.The lamp was not lighted, but the stove was red-hot and scattered anangry glare. He called to her; she came to him timidly from the farend of the room and sat down beside him. He commenced abruptly bytelling her that the man who was chained out there in the cabin was amurderer. Did she know that? She nodded. How did she know that? Sheshuddered, and pointed with her hand out of the window in thedirection of the bend.
He did not gather what she meant, but for the present he let it pass.
And did she know that there were a thousand dollars offered forSpurling's capture? She shrugged her shoulders, and again gave herassent. Then, raising himself on his elbow, he asked her plainly, "Isthat what Eyelids has gone to get?"
She smiled down at him as though she were owning to something worthy;"I hope so," she said.
"Why do you hope so," he asked in a hard voice; "because of themoney?"
She drew back from him as though he had affronted her. "No, not forthat," she said, speaking slowly.
"Then why?"
"Because he is trying to take you away from me."
"And you think that when the Mounted Police have hanged him that itwill be all right, and I shall stay here?"
She did not answer him, but he knew that she was thinking of herchild. "Whether Spurling escapes or is taken," he said, "will make nodifference to my doings. I cannot stay; they are hunting for me,because they think I also am a murderer."
She turned sharply round. "But we are doing this to save you; wethought that you agreed and understood. When you have given them thisman, they will pardon you, and you will be allowed to stay."
"Who told you that? Was it Antoine?"
"Robert Pilgrim."
He laughed in her face. "Bah! Robert Pilgrim!" he exclaimed. "He toldyou that, and you believed him! Why, you little fool, he doesn't carea curse what happens to Spurling, whether he's caught or gets away;it's me that he's anxious to put to death. But he couldn't have toldyou that when we were in hiding on Huskies' Island, or you'd havebetrayed us then."
"He sent word to us by a messenger while you were away. But, if I hadknown, I shouldn't have betrayed you then, for this man seemed to beat that time your friend."
"Then why have you done so now?"
"Because he has become your enemy and you hate him; and because thereis no other way of saving you for my child and for myself. He istrying to take you away from me." She spoke in a fierce strainedwhisper, kneeling, with her hands spread out before her, and her headthrown back.
"You haven't saved me," he said, rising to his feet angrily; "allyou've done is to place the rope about my neck."