CHAPTER XVI.
MY PLANS ALTER
The rest of that day we spent chatting very amicably in our Pullmanarm-chairs. I couldn't understand it myself--when I had a moment tothink, I was shocked and horrified at it. I was so terribly at homewith them. These were friends of Dr. Ivor's--friends of my father'smurderer! I had come out to Canada to track him, to deliver himover, if I could, to the strong hand of Justice. And yet, there Iwas talking away with his neighbours and friends as if I had knownthem all my life, and loved them dearly. Nay, what was more, Icouldn't in my heart of hearts help liking them. They were reallysweet people--so kind and sympathetic, so perceptive of mysensitiveness. They asked no questions that could hurt me in anyway. They showed no curiosity about the object of my visit or myrelation to Dr. Ivor. They were kindness and courtesy itself. Icould see Mr. Cheriton was a gentleman in fibre, and Elsie was assweet as any woman on earth could be.
By-and-by, the time came for the Pullman saloon to be transformedfor the night into a regular sleeping-car. All this was new to me,and I watched it with interest. As soon as the beds were made up, Icrept into my berth, and my new friend Elsie took her place on thesofa below me. I lay awake long and thought over the situation. Themore I thought of it, the stranger it all seemed. I tried hard topersuade myself I was running some great danger in accepting theCheritons' invitation. Certainly, I had behaved with consummateimprudence. Canada is a country, I said to myself, where they kidnapand murder well-to-do young Englishmen. How much easier, then, tokidnap and murder a poor weak stray English girl! I was entirely atthe mercy of the Cheritons, that was clear: and the Cheritons wereDr. Ivor's friends. As I thought all the circumstances over, thefull folly of my own conduct came home to me more and more. I hadlet these people suppose I was travelling under an assumed name. Ihad let them know my ticket was not for Palmyra but for Kingston,where I didn't mean to go. I had told them I meant to change it atSharbot Lake. So they were aware that no one on earth but themselveshad any idea where I had gone. And I had further divulged to themthe important fact that I had plenty of ready money in Bank ofEngland notes! I stood aghast at my own silliness. But still, I didNOT distrust them.
No, I did NOT distrust them. I felt I ought to be distrustful. Ifelt it might be expected of me. But they were so gentle-manneredand so sweet-natured, that I couldn't distrust them. I tried veryhard, but distrust wouldn't come to me. That kind fellow Jack--Ithought of him, just so, as Jack already--couldn't hurt a fly, muchless kill a woman. It grieved me to think I would have to hurt hisfeelings.
For now that I came to look things squarely in the face in my berthby myself, I began to see how utterly impossible it would be for meafter all to go and stop with the Cheritons. How I could ever havedreamt it feasible I could hardly conceive. I ought to have refusedat once. I ought to have been braver. I ought to have said outright,"I'll have nothing to do or say with anyone who is a friend or anacquaintance of Courtenay Ivor's." And yet, to have said so wouldhave been to give up the game for lost. It would have been toproclaim that I had come out to Canada as Courtenay Ivor's enemy.
I wasn't fit, that was the fact, for my self-imposed task ofprivate detective.
A good part of that night I lay awake in my berth, bitterlyreproaching myself for having come on this wild-goose chase withoutthe aid of a man--an experienced officer. Next morning, I rose andbreakfasted in the car. The Cheritons breakfasted with me, and, sadto say, seemed more charming than ever. That good fellow Jack was soattentive and kind, I almost felt ashamed to have to refuse hishospitality; and as for Elsie, she couldn't have treated me morenicely or cordially if she'd been my own sister. It wasn't what theysaid that touched my heart: it was what they didn't say or do--theirsweet, generous reticence.
After breakfast, I steeled myself for the task, and broke it to themgently that, thinking it over in the night, I'd come to theconclusion I couldn't consistently accept their proffered welcome.
"I don't know how to say NO to you," I cried, "after you've been sowonderfully kind and nice; but reasons which I can't fully explainjust now make me feel it would be wrong of me to think of stoppingwith you. It would hamper my independence of action to be in anybodyelse's house. I must shift for myself, and try if I can't find boardand lodging somewhere."
"Find it with us then!" Elsie put in eagerly. "If that's all that'sthe matter, I'm sure we're not proud--are we, Jack?--not a bit.Sooner than you should go elsewhere and be uncomfortable in yourrooms, I'd take you in myself, and board you and look after you. Youcould pay what you like; and then you'd retain your independence,you see, as much as ever you wanted."
But her brother interrupted her with a somewhat graver air:
"It goes deeper than that, I'm afraid, Elsie," he said, turning hiseye full upon her. "If Miss Callingham feels she couldn't be happyin stopping with us, she'd better try elsewhere. Though where onearth we can put her, I haven't just now the very slightest idea.But we'll turn it over in our own minds before we reach AdolphusTown."
There was a sweet reasonableness about Jack that attracted megreatly. I could see he entered vaguely into the real nature of myfeelings. But he wouldn't cross-question me: he was too much of agentleman.
"Miss Callingham knows her own motives best," he said more thanonce, when Elsie tried to return to the charge. "If she feels shecan't come to us, we must be content to do the best we can for herwith our neighbours. Perhaps Mrs. Walters would take her in: she'sour clergyman's wife, Miss Callingham, and you mightn't feel thesame awkwardness with her as with my sister."
"Does she know--Dr. Ivor?" I faltered out, unable to conceal my realreasons entirely.
"Not so intimately as we do," Jack answered, with a quick glance athis sister. "We might ask her at any rate. There are so few housesin Palmyra or the neighbourhood where you could live as you'reaccustomed, that we mustn't be particular. But at least you'll spendone night with us, and then we can arrange all the other thingsafterward."
My mind was made up.
"No, not even one night," I said. I couldn't accept hospitality fromDr. Ivor's friends. Between his faction and mine there could benothing now but the bitterest enmity. How dare I even parley withpeople who were friends of my father's murderer?
Yet I was sorry to disappoint that good fellow, Jack, all the same.Did he want me to sleep one night at his house on purpose to rob meand murder me? Girl as I was, and rendered timorous in some ways bythe terrible shocks I had received, I couldn't for one momentbelieve it. I KNEW he was good: I KNEW he was honourable, gentle, agentleman.
So, journeying on all morning, we reached Sharbot Lake, still withnothing decided. At the little junction station, Jack got me myticket. That was the turning point in my career. The die was cast.There I lost my identity. A crowd lounged around the platform, andsurged about the Pullman car, calling to see "Una Callingham." Butno Una Callingham appeared on the scene. I went, on in the sametrain, without a word to anyone, all unknown save to the twoCheritons, and as an unrecognised unit of common humanity. I hadcast that horrid identity clean behind me.
The afternoon was pleasant. In spite of my uncertainty, it gave me asense of pleased confidence to be in the Cheritons' company. I hadtaken to them at once: and the more I talked with them, the better Iliked them. Especially Jack, that nice brotherly Jack, who seemedalmost like an old friend to me. You get to know people so well on along railway journey. I was quite sorry to think that by fiveo'clock that afternoon we should reach Adolphus Town, and so partcompany.
About ten minutes to five, we were collecting our scattered things,and putting our front-hair straight by the mirror in the ladies'compartment.
"Well, Miss Cheriton," I said warmly, longing to kiss her as Ispoke, "I shall never forget how kind you two have been to me. I dowish so much I hadn't to leave you like this. But it's quiteinevitable. I don't see really how I could ever endure--"
I said no more, for just at that moment, as the words trembled on mylips, a terrible jar thrilled suddenly through the length andbreadth o
f the carriage. Something in front seemed to rush into uswith a deep thud. There was a crash, a fierce grating, a dull hiss,a clatter. Broken glass was flying about. The very earth beneath thewheels seemed to give way under us. Next instant, all was blank. Ijust knew I was lying, bruised and stunned and bleeding, on a baredry bank, with my limbs aching painfully.
I guessed what it all meant. A collision, no doubt. But I lay faintand ill, and knew nothing for the moment as to what had become of myfellow-passengers.