CHAPTER X
A GRIM SORT OF PICNIC.
The dawn was breaking when Gray approached the spot where Lumley lay.He had walked the whole distance, for his horse was evidently toodead-beat to carry him. He had had no difficulty in keeping to theright track. Indeed he had calculated so well, that when he firststopped and "coo-eed" to make sure he was going right, Lumley's answerhad come from a point straight ahead, and no considerable distance off.
Lumley had seen him before that call. Though he had told himself againand again that Gray would never come back, that it was too much in hisinterest to leave him there to die, his eyes had anxiously watched thewestern horizon.
There had been something in Gray's look when he had spoken his lastwords that had impressed Lumley powerfully, and so it was notaltogether a surprise to him when he at last could distinguish a dark,moving object against the sky. The surprise came later when he wasable to discern that Gray was leading his horse with him.
A strange change came over Lumley's face when he realized that; histhin lips set themselves together, his brows contracted with a frown ofanxious thought, his eyes grew like the stealthy, waiting eyes of abeast of prey which has not the strength to attack its victim in theopen, but lurks in ambush and springs upon it unawares.
With that look on his face he watched Gray approaching him through theclear rosy light of the sunrise, but it was gone before Gray came nearenough to see his face clearly. He made an effort at a smile ofgrateful welcome.
"So you haven't left me to the crows, partner?" he said, raisinghimself on his elbow as he spoke to grasp the bottle Gray held out tohim. "I'm glad enough to see you, I can tell you that."
Gray nodded silently, and then went back to the horse and took the bagsfrom the saddle. He brought them to the spot where Lumley was lying,and flung them down at his side. He saw that Lumley had done littlemore than wet his lips from the bottle, but that he had torn somestrips from the lining of his coat, and was proceeding to pour water onthem with a careful hand.
"You'd better let me do that for you," Gray said quietly. "And thereis more water, Lumley; take another pull. I can fill the bottles againif they are empty before you can move."
He had knelt down as he spoke, and taken the wet rags from Lumley'shand to bind round his injured foot.
"The horse will have to carry me," said Lumley after watching Gray'sbandaging for a moment. "You found him by the water, didn't you,partner?"
"Yes, close by it."
Lumley eyed the horse with a quick furtive glance, and then looked atGray again.
"Did you tramp it all the way, partner? I'd have let the horse save mylegs if I'd been you."
"He's dead beat," Gray said briefly. "He had enough to carry."
Lumley's eyes turned involuntarily to the bags at his side. He hadavoided looking at them since Gray had placed them by him.
"'Tis a mercy we've got the grub all right, ain't it, partner?" hesaid. "Though I'm blessed if I feel a bit peckish. 'Twas water Iwanted."
He drank a little from the bottle and corked it again. Gray marvelledat the self-control he showed in taking so little.
"I'd finish that bottle right away if I were you, Lumley," he said."It's only a few mouthfuls after all. I sha'n't want any more for agood time yet."
Lumley took another sip and then put the bottle away from him.
"'Tain't good to take too much at once, partner. And so you found itpretty easy, eh? Now, how far should you reckon it?"
"Perhaps eight or nine miles."
Gray had finished his bandaging, and had opened the bag containing thefood. As he sat down on the ground near Lumley he pushed the wallet ofmoney from him with his elbow, but Lumley did not give it a glance.Neither he nor Gray had yet referred to it.
"Here's the other bottle of water," Gray said, taking it out andsticking it in the sand. "And here's the damper." He took out some ofthe dry uninviting scraps and laid them close to Lumley. "There'snothing else," he added, looking into the bag.
Lumley gave a quick glance at the bag.
"Didn't I put the pistols there, mate? I haven't got 'em about me."He spoke carelessly.
"Oh, they're here," Gray returned. "But that's all the food left.Still, there's enough to last us for a day or two."
"A kind of grim sort of picnic, isn't it?" said Lumley with a grin, ashe took up a bit of damper. He ate a few mouthfuls and then drew outthe bottle for another sip. "Here's to you, partner," he said with anawkward nod at Gray, "and good luck to both on us."
Gray returned his nod, but made no answer in words. Lumley put backthe bottle again, and watched him for a moment from beneath his heavybrows.
"You don't bear no malice, I hope, mate?" he said suddenly.
Gray raised his heavy eyes and looked at him inquiringly.
"I was pretty rough on you last night," went on Lumley in a persuasive,apologetic tone; "but I was drove up in a corner, you see. I'd servedyou so bad that I reckoned you'd be glad enough to pay me out. ThoughI'd have sent back for you from the nearest station, partner. I meantthat all along."
Gray did not believe him, but he did not think it worth while to tellhim so.
"We'll let bygones be bygones, Lumley," he said in a friendly tone."We've both had a hard time of it, but it's nearly over now, I hope.And you'll be able to trust me for the future."
"So I shall, so I shall, partner," returned Lumley rapidly. "'Tisn'tmany as would have come back--not after they'd got the horse andeverything. What a bit of luck 'twould have been for you if you'd comeback and found me dead. Didn't you hope you would, now?"
"No," said Gray. He got slowly up and looked round for a hillock thatwould give him a little shelter from the sun. "I must get a sleep," hesaid. "I shall be fit for nothing till I've had that. I'm dizzy forwant of it."
Lumley was staring up at him with sudden fierce suspicion in hisglance. A new thought had struck him. Ever since he had seen Graywith the horse he had been wondering what had made him come back. Suchrefusal of good fortune seemed inexplicable to him.
"You didn't come across the police, did you?" he said. "You've not seta trap for me?"
But even as he said it he saw how unfounded his suspicion was, and thesudden fierceness left his face, giving way to the anxious, apologeticlook it had worn all through his late talk with Gray.
"I haven't seen anyone," Gray said indifferently.
He moved away as he spoke, and Lumley watched him settle himself for asleep a little distance off. Gray lay down with his back to him, underthe scanty shade of a hillock, and drew his hat over his eyes.
Lumley watched him intently till he had satisfied himself that he hadfallen into a deep sleep. Then he made a quick clutch at the wallet ofmoney, and drew it close to him. He hurriedly counted it over, givingfurtive looks at Gray the while. Once Gray moved, and he crushed thenotes he held back into the bag, and pushed the bag from him. But Graydid not move again, and after a pause he resumed his counting. When hehad satisfied himself that the money was all there he replaced it inthe wallet, which he put back into its original position.
He then, in the same cautious, hurried way, examined the pistols, andreplaced them in the bag. He left them there for a moment, then tookone out again, and thrust it into his pocket. But he changed his mindafter a short consideration, took out the pistol from his pocket andreplaced it in the bag. Then he poured some water on the rags Gray hadbound round his foot, took a sparing sip from the bottle, and havingcorked it and pushed it back into the sand, turned himself round to geta sleep; and almost at once sleep, heavy and dreamless, came to him.
Many hours elapsed before either of the men awoke. It was Gray whocame back to consciousness first. He was roused by the glare of thesun on his face, and sitting drowsily up he saw that it had travelledright across the sky while he slept, and was now declining towards thewest. His next glance showed him the horse languidly cropping the drygrass some few paces off, and Lumley asleep with on
e arm flung up abovehis head.
But almost at once, before his eyes had travelled away from him, Lumleyawoke. He raised himself quickly, looking round him with a wildsuspicious stare and thrusting out a hand to clutch the bag of money athis side.
Gray got up and slowly approached him.
"How is your foot?" he asked.
"Bad," returned Lumley with a groan.
He said no more, and Gray sat down by him in silence. Lumley drew uphis foot and began to wet the bandages again.
"The pain's worse than ever," he muttered, without looking at Gray.
"The water will do it good," replied Gray.
He drew the bag of food towards him as he spoke. "I believe I can eatsomething now," he said. "That sleep has done me any amount of good."
"How long have you been awake?" asked Lumley, with one of his quickglances.
"Not more than two minutes. I must have slept pretty nearly all day bythe look of the sun."
"That's just what you've done, partner," returned Lumley, withoutsaying he had done the same. He looked across at the horse. "What doyou think of him?" he asked, with a nod towards it. "Doesn't look upto much in my opinion."
"I think the sooner we can start the better," answered Gray. "The poorold fellow can get nothing here. What do you think? Could you manageto mount him?"
Lumley shook his head in decided negative.
"Let's see what my foot's like to-morrow, partner. I couldn't stand onit to-day to save my life."
"The sooner we get off the better," Gray returned.
Lumley made no reply to this.
"You found the water just as I said, didn't you?" he asked presently."'Tis years agone since I was in this part, but I was sure of it."
"I expect the place is a good deal overgrown since then," replied Gray."You can't see any water from the ridge, but there's a track leading toit. I had no difficulty."
Lumley listened intently, but did not pursue the subject of the water.
"There's a station not so far off. We'll have to get on there and resta bit," was his next remark.
"You know the way I suppose?" asked Gray.
"I know it well enough. You won't get lost again, I promise you."
He was slowly rubbing his leg as he spoke, with his face turned fromGray.
"Couldn't I find it by myself?" said Gray after a moment. "They'd senda wagon back for you."
Lumley gave a curious sort of chuckle.
"We'll see, partner, we'll see. We won't part company again unlesswe're forced to. And while I think about it, there's a little pointwe've got to settle." He stopped rubbing his leg, and turned his paleblue eyes full on Gray. "What about this?" He touched the wallet ofmoney with his elbow. "Share and share alike, eh?"
Gray had been expecting a question of this sort. He returned Lumley'sglance as steadily as he could.
"I shall tell the whole story to the first responsible person we meet,and hand the money over to him for safe keeping."
"Which story are you goin' to tell, if I may make so bold as to ask?"said Lumley with an ugly smile. "You've forgot, maybe, about thereward you meant to claim. You told me that was all you wanted whenfirst we met, you know, mate."
"I told you a lie. I meant to steal the money just as much as youdid," returned Gray quietly. He waited a moment, and then wentnervously on. "I need not mention your name to the authorities,Lumley, but I wish you could come to see as I do. When a man's beenface to face with death, as you and I have, he begins to learn thetruth about himself."
Gray's voice faltered before he stopped speaking, and he did not sayall he had wished to say. Lumley's cold mocking glance was too hard tobear.
"You're as good as a parson, ain't you, partner? But you've alwaystook the virtuous line, ever since we've been together. Why, the firsttime I set eyes on you you preached to me; and now you're at it again!I never did see such a chap for sermons."
Gray's face grew scarlet.
"You can't think worse of me than I do of myself," he returned; "but Imean what I say about the money, Lumley,--I mean every word of that."
"Well, you're master, I s'pose," the other returned with an odd lookthat Gray remembered afterwards. "But no tricks, mind; no going in forthe reward when my back's turned, mate; though, p'r'aps, you'll not getthe chance."
"I think I've proved to you whether or not you can trust me now," saidGray, with just a touch of the old superiority in his tone.
Lumley gave a short laugh.
"Yes, you'd best stick to the virtuous line, partner. You're not cutout for any other; you're too soft-hearted and afraid. P'r'aps youthought my ghost would haunt you unless you came back--but I don'tbelieve in ghosts, mate."
Gray made some answer, he hardly knew what, and presently he got up andmoved away.
A shiver went over him once or twice as he stood talking to his horse,who had come up to him as he left Lumley. He had involuntarilyrecalled Lumley's mocking, incredulous look when he had tried to speakof the change his sufferings had wrought in him.
Next morning Lumley complained that his foot was worse than ever, andthat it would be impossible for him to mount the horse that day. Graydid his best to persuade him at least to try, but with no effect. AndLumley positively declined to let Gray ride on to the station.
"I shall be able to start to-morrow," he declared; "and we can do allright till then."
There followed a day that Gray found very hard to bear. The momentsseemed to lengthen themselves out into hours, the hours into weeks--theday seemed as if it would never end. It passed at last, and the nightcame--a lovely moonlight night like the last.
Gray had not slept during the day, and he hardly expected to sleepduring the night; he felt too feverishly eager for the morning. Butsometime after midnight he fell into a troubled, restless slumber. Itwas still bright moonlight when he awoke; the east showed no sign ofdawn.
He woke suddenly with a strange sense of terror upon him. He startedup, and looked suspiciously round. The horse was there, not far fromthe spot where he had last seen it, but Lumley was no longer lyingagainst the hillock, and in his first hasty glance Gray failed to findhim. But a rough laugh broke on his ear.
"Don't go off your head with fright, partner," called out Lumley, whowas crouching on the ground close beside the horse. "I've just beentryin' my strength a bit. We can start at sunrise, if you like."
Gray walked slowly across to him.
"How did you manage to get here?" he said wonderingly.
Lumley had got hold of the bridle of the horse, but he let it go asGray approached.
"Crawled on my hands and feet," he said. "And a pretty hard bit ofwork it's been."
Gray could see he was much exhausted. His face was deathly pale, andthere were great drops of sweat upon it, brought there by the pain hehad gone through. He had been trying to mount the horse by his unaidedefforts, and had given up the attempt in despair just before Gray woke.But he did not tell Gray this, and Gray did not guess it.
"You should have waited till I could help you," Gray said after amoment. "I hardly understand how you can have got so far. Your footmust be much better."
He was still looking down on Lumley with a wondering look He saw thathe had fastened the wallet of money round his shoulders, and was halflying upon it with one arm tightly grasping it.
"P'r'aps you think I was tryin' to clear off?" said Lumley sulkily;"what would be the good of tryin' that. You know the way now, don'tyou? You'd be pretty soon on my tracks. And, besides, I'm not muchbetter than a log; I can't do without you yet, partner."
Suspicion after suspicion flashed through Gray's mind, only to bedismissed at once.
It was impossible, he said to himself, that Lumley could be meditatingfoul play against the man who had saved his life. And, besides, it wasas he said, he could not do without him.
Lumley read his thoughts correctly enough.
"You needn't stare at a cove like that," he said in the same
sulkytone. "You were so mighty anxious to get off I thought I'd try what Icould do. And we can start at sunrise, mate. You'll not have muchlonger to spend in company with me; you'll be glad of that, won't you?I'm not good enough for the likes of you."
"Couldn't we start before sunrise?" Gray said quietly; "it's almost aslight as day now."
"It'll be dark as pitch in another hour when the moon goes down. And Iwant a rest," returned Lumley; "I'm not goin' to stir from here tillsunrise for anybody, Mr. Gentleman Gray."
His sulky rage reassured Gray more than smooth language would havedone, as Lumley perhaps had guessed.
"Very well, at sunrise, then," he said, and turned away to lie downagain in his old place.
The moon went down, and, as Lumley had said, there followed an hour ofdarkness in which the stars shone forth with undimmed splendour.
Gray lay on the ground staring up at them. A little way off Lumley wasstealthily watching him, wondering what his thoughts were. But Grayhad forgotten Lumley--he was thinking of Harding.