CHAPTER II
BONAVENTURE RANCH
"We are waiting for you," said Haldane, smiling, as he stood in thedoorway of the room where, with some misgivings, and by the aid ofborrowed sundries, we had made the best toilets we could. "You are not astranger, Ormesby, and must help to see your comrades made comfortable.Sergeant, my younger daughter is enthusiastic about the prairie, and youwill have a busy time if you answer all her questions, though I fear shewill be disappointed to discover that nobody has ever scalped you."
Mackay drew himself up stiffly, as if for his inspection parade, and awhite streak on his forehead showed the graze a bullet had made. YoungCotton smiled wryly as he glanced at his uniform, for it was probablyunder very different auspices he had last appeared in the society ofladies; and I was uneasily conscious of the fact that the black leathertunic which a German teamster had given me was much more comfortablethan becoming. I might have felt even more dissatisfied had I known thatmy fall had badly split the tunic up the back. That, however, did notaccount for the curious mingling of hesitation and expectancy with whichI followed our host.
During a brief visit to England some years ago I had met Miss Haldane atthe house of a relative, and the memory had haunted me during longwinter evenings spent in dreamy meditation beside the twinkling stoveand in many a lonely camp when the stars shone down on the waste ofwhitened grass through the blue transparency of the summer night. Theinterval had been a time of strenuous effort with me, but through allthe stress and struggle, in stinging snowdrift and blinding dust ofalkali, I had never lost the remembrance of the maiden who whiled awaythe sunny afternoons with me under the English elms. Indeed, therecollection of the serene, delicately cut face and the wealth of duskyhair grew sharper as the months went by, until it became an abstracttype of all that was desirable in womanhood, rather than a prosaicreality. Now I was to meet its owner once more in the concrete flesh. Itmay have been merely a young man's fancy, born of a life bare ofromance, but I think that idealization was good for me.
Haldane held a door open, saying something that I did not catch; butyoung Cotton, whose bronzed color deepened for a moment, made a courtlybow, and the big grizzled sergeant smiled at me across the table as hetook his place beside a laughing girl, while I presently found myselfdrawing a chair back for Beatrice Haldane, who showed genuine pleasureas she greeted me. Her beauty had increased during the long interval.The clustering dark hair and the dark eyes were those I remembered well,and if her face was a trifle colorless and cold I did not notice it. Shehad grown a little more full in outline and more stately in bearing, butthe quiet graciousness which had so impressed me still remained.
"It is a long time since we met, and you have changed since then," shesaid pleasantly. "When you raced past our wagon I hardly recognized you.That, however, was perhaps only to be expected; but one might wonderwhether you have changed otherwise, too. I recollect you wererefreshingly sanguine when I last saw you."
This was gratifying. That I should have treasured the remembrance ofBeatrice Haldane was only natural; but it was very pleasant to hear fromher own lips that she had not forgotten me. Her intention was doubtlesskindly, and it was inherited courtesy, for Haldane did most thingsgraciously.
"The light was dim, and this life sets its stamp on most of us," I said."May one compliment you on your powers of memory? Needless to say, Irecognized you the moment I saw you."
Miss Haldane smiled a little. "A good memory is useful; but do you wishme to return the compliment?"
"No," and I looked at her steadily. "But there is a difference. In yourworld men and events follow each other in kaleidoscopic succession, andeach change of the combinations must dim the memory of the rest. With usit is different. You will see how we live--but, no; I hardly think youwill--for Bonaventure is not a typical homestead, and the control of itcan be only a pastime with your father."
"And yet it is said that whatever Carson Haldane touches yields himdividends; but proceed," interposed Miss Haldane.
"With us each day is spent in hurried labor; and it is probably wellthat it is, for otherwise the loneliness and monotony might overpowerany man with leisure to brood and think. Heat, frost, and fatigue areour lot; and an interlude resembling the one in which I met you means,as a glimpse of a wholly different life, so much to us. We dream of itlong afterwards, and wonder if ever the enchanted gates will open to usagain. Now, please don't smile. This is really not exaggeration!"
"Which gates? You are not precise," said my companion, and laughedpleasantly when, smiling, too, I answered, "One might almost say--ofParadise!"
"It must be the Moslem's paradise, then," she said. "Still, I hardlyfancy a stalwart prairie rancher would pose well as the Peri, and, byway of consolation, you can remember that there are disappointmentswithin those gates, and those who have acquired knowledge beyond themsometimes envy the illusions of those without. No, you have not changedmuch in some respects, Mr. Ormesby. You must talk to my sisterLucille--she will agree with you."
Her manner was very gracious, in spite of the badinage; but there was afaint trace of weariness and sardonic humor in her merriment whichchilled me. The dark-haired girl I remembered had displayed a power ofsympathy and quick enthusiasm which had apparently vanished from mypresent companion.
"I am curious to hear if you have verified the optimistic views you onceprofessed," she added languidly.
I laughed a little dryly. Being younger then, and led on by a verywinsome maiden's interest, I had talked with perhaps a little less thanbecoming modesty of the possibilities open to a resolute man in the newlands of the West, and laid it down as an axiom that determination was asure password to success.
"You should be merciful. That was in my callow days," I said."Nevertheless, with a few more reservations, I believe it is possiblefor those who can hope and hold on to realize their ambition in thiscountry, whether it be the evolution of a prosperous homestead from astrip of Government land and a sod hovel--or more desirable things. Thebelief is excusable, because one may see the proof of it almost everyday. I even fancied, when in England, that you agreed with me."
There was a faint mischievous sparkle in Miss Haldane's eyes, but sheanswered with becoming gravity: "Wisdom, as you seem to intimate, comeswith age, and it is allowable to change one's opinions. Now it seems tome that all things happen, more often against our will than as theresult of it, when the invisible powers behind us decree. For instance,who could have anticipated yesterday that we two should meet to-night attable, or who could say whether this assembly, brought about by ablizzard, may not be the first scene of either a tragedy or a comedy?"
I was more at home when Haldane turned the conversation upon practicalmatters, such as wheat and cattle, than when discussing abstractpossibilities; but I afterwards remembered that my fair companion'sspeech was prophetic, and, as I glanced about, it struck me that therewere dramatic possibilities in the situation. We were a strangelyassorted company, and to one who had spent eight years in the wildernessthe surroundings were striking. Tall wax candles in silver standards,flickering a little when the impact of the snow-laden gale shook thelonely dwelling, lighted the table. The rest of the long room waswrapped in shadow, save when the blaze from the great open hearth flungforth its uncertain radiance. The light flashed upon cut glass andpolished silver, and forced up against the dusky background the faces ofthose who sat together.
Carson Haldane, owner of Bonaventure, which he occasionally visited, satat the head of the table, a clean-shaven, dark-haired man of little morethan middle age, whose slightly ascetic appearance concealed a verygenial disposition. He was a man of mark, a daring speculator in millsand lands and mines, and supposed to be singularly successful. Why hebought Bonaventure ranch, or what he meant to do with it, nobody seemedto know; but he acted in accordance with the customs of the place inwhich he found himself, and because the distinctions of caste and wealthare not greatly recognized on the prairie there was nothing incongruousin his present company. Sergeant Ma
ckay--lean, bronzed, and saturninewhen the humor seized him--now bent his grizzled head with keen grayeyes that twinkled as he chatted to the fresh-faced girl in the simpledress beside him. I knew this was Lucille Haldane, but had hardlyglanced at her. Cotton had evidently forgotten that he was a policetrooper, and, when he could, broke in with some boyish jest or Englishstory told in a different idiom from that which he generally adopted. Heseemed unconscious that he was recklessly betraying himself.
"You must not turn my daughter's head with your reminiscences, Sergeant.She is inclined to be over-romantic already," Haldane said, with akindly glance at the girl. "Possibly, however, one may excuse herto-night, for you gentlemen live the stories she delights in. By theway, I do not quite understand how you allowed the evildoer to escape,Ormesby."
Being forced to an explanation, I described the scene by the river asbest I could, looking at the sergeant a trifle defiantly until, at theconclusion, he said: "I cannot compliment ye, Rancher Ormesby."
I was about to retort, when a clear young voice, with a trace ofmischief in its tone, asked: "What would you have done had you beenthere, and why were you so far behind, Sergeant?"
"We do not ride pedigree horses," said Mackay, a trifle grimly. "Ishould have shot his beast, an' so made sure of him in the first place."
Then there was a sudden silence, when the girl, who turned upon him witha gesture of indignation, said: "It would have been cruel, and I am gladhe got away. I saw his face when he passed us, and it was so drawn andhaggard that I can hardly forget it; but it was not that of a bad man.What crime had he committed that he should be hunted so pitilessly?"
Young Cotton colored almost guiltily under his tan as the girl'sindignant gaze fell upon him, and for the first time I glanced at herwith interest. She was by no means to be compared with her sister, butshe had a brave young face, slightly flushed with carmine and relievedby bright eyes that now shone with pity. In contrast to Beatrice's darktresses the light of the candles called up bronze-gold gleams in herhair, and her eyes were hazel, while the voice had a vibration in itthat seemed to awaken an answering thrill. Lucille Haldane reminded meof what her sister had been, but there was a difference. Slighter inphysique, she was characterized by a suggestion of nervous energyinstead of Beatrice's queenly serenity. The latter moved her shouldersalmost imperceptibly, but I fancied the movement expressed subduedimpatience, and her face a slightly contemptuous apology, while herfather laughed a little.
"You must be careful, Sergeant. My younger daughter is mistress ofBonaventure, and rules us all somewhat autocratically; but, as far as Ican gather, your perceptions were tolerably correct in this instance,Lucille," he said. "The man fell into the grip of the usurer, who, asusual, drained his blood; but, while what he did may have been ethicaljustice, he broke the laws of this country, and perhaps hardly deservesyour sympathy."
"No?" said Lucille Haldane, and her eyes glistened. "I wish you had nottold us what took place at the river, Mr. Ormesby. Here we sit, warm andsheltered, while that man, who has, perhaps, suffered so much already,wanders, hungry, faint, and bleeding, through this awful cold and snow.Just listen a moment!"
In the brief silence that followed I could hear the windows rattle underthe impact of the driving snow and the eerie scream of the blast. Ishivered a little, having more than once barely escaped with my lifewhen caught far from shelter under such conditions, and it was borne inupon me that the outlaw might well be summoned before a higher tribunalthan an earthly court by morning.
It was Beatrice Haldane, who, with, I noticed, a warning glance at hersister, turned the conversation into a more cheerful channel, and I waswell content when some time later she took her place near me beside thehearth, while Lucille opened the piano at her father's request. Possiblyneither her voice nor her execution might have pleased a critic; but asa break in our monotonous daily drudgery the music enchanted us, and thegrizzled sergeant straightened himself very erect, while a steely glintcame into his eyes as, perhaps to atone for her speech at dinner, thegirl sang, with fire and pathos, a Jacobite ballad of his own country.Its effect may have been enhanced by the novelty; but there was a powerin Lucille Haldane which is held only by the innocent in spirit whosegenerous enthusiasms are still unblunted, and it seemed to me that thewords and chords rang alternately with a deathless devotion and theclank of the clansmen's steel.
"I cannot thank ye. It was just grand," said Mackay, shaken into unusualeloquence, when the girl turned and half-shyly asked if he liked thesong, though, as the soft candle light touched it, her face was slightlyflushed. "Ye made one see them--the poor lads with the claymores, whocame out of the mist with a faith that was not bought with silver to diefor their king. Loyal? Oh, ay! starving, ill-led, unpaid, they wereloyal to the death! There's a pattern for ye, Trooper Cotton, who, ifye'll mind what he tells ye, will hold Her Majesty's commission some daywhen Sergeant Mackay's gone. Ye'll excuse me, Miss Haldane, but themusic made me speak."
I noticed that Trooper Cotton seemed to flinch a moment at the mentionof a commission, as though it recalled unpleasant memories, and that theworthy sergeant appeared slightly ashamed of his outbreak, whileBeatrice Haldane showed a quiet amusement at his Caledonian weakness forimproving the occasion. Lucille, however, smiled at him again. "I thinkthat is the prettiest compliment I have ever had paid my poor singing,"she said naively. "But I have done my duty. I wonder if you would singif we asked you, Mr. Cotton?"
"Lucille is at an impressionable age," Beatrice Haldane said to me."Later she may find much that she now delights in obsolete andold-fashioned. We have grown very materialistic in these modern days."
"God forbid!" I answered. "And I think the sergeant could tell you truestories of modern loyalty."
"For instance?" and I answered doggedly. "You can find instances foryourself if you try to see beneath the surface. There are some veryplain men on this prairie who could furnish them, I think. Did you everhear of Rancher Dane, who stripped himself of all his possessions toadvance the career of a now popular singer? She married another man whenfame came to her, and it is said he knew she would never be more than afriend to him from the beginning."
"I have," and the speaker's eyes rested on me with a faint and yetkindly twinkle in them. "He was a very foolish person, although it isrefreshing to hear of such men. Even if disappointment followconsummation, aspiration is good for one. It is more blessed to givethan to receive, you know."
Here, to the astonishment of his superior officer, Cotton, who playedhis own accompaniment, broke into song, and he not only sang passablywell, but made a special effort to do his best, I think; while Iremember reflecting, as I glanced at the lad in uniform and the richman's daughter, who sat close by, watching him, how strange all thiswould have seemed to anyone unused to the customs of the prairie. Ours,however, is a new land, wide enough to take in not only the upright andthe strong of hand, but the broken in spirit and the outcast whom theolder country thrusts outside her gates; and, much more often than onemight expect, convert them into sturdy citizens. The past history of anyman is no concern of ours. He begins afresh on his merits, and by rightof bold enterprise or industry meets as an equal whatever substitute forthe older world's dignitaries may be found among us. How it is onecannot tell, but the brand of servitude, with the coarseness or cringingit engenders, fades from sight on the broad prairie.
Beatrice Haldane presently bade me go talk to her sister, and though Idid so somewhat reluctantly, the girl interested me. I do not rememberall we said, and probably it would not justify the effort to recall it;but she was pleasantly vivacious of speech, and genuinely interested inthe answers to her numerous questions. At length, however, she asked,with a half-nervous laugh: "Did you ever feel, Mr. Ormesby, thatsomebody you could not see was watching you?"
"No," I answered lightly. "In my case it would not be worth while foranybody to do so, you see." And Lucille Haldane first blushed prettilyand then shivered, for no apparent reason.
"It must be a fancy, but I-
-felt--that somebody was crouching outsidethere in the snow. Perhaps it is because the thought of that hunted mantroubles me still," said she.
"He would never venture near the house, but rather try to find shelterin the depths of the ravine--however, to reassure you. I wonder whetherit is snowing as hard as ever, Sergeant," I said, turning towards Mackayas I concluded.
The casements were double and sunk in a recess of the thick log walls,over which red curtains were not wholly drawn. I flung one behind myshoulder, and when the heavy folds shut out the light inside I could seefor some little distance the ghostly glimmer of the snow. Then,returning to my companion, I said quietly: "There is nobody outside,and I should have seen footprints if there had been."
Presently the two girls withdrew to attend to some household duties, andHaldane, who handed a cigar box around, said to me: "Did you do welllast season, Ormesby, and what are your ideas concerning the prospectsdown here?"
"I was partly fortunate and partly the reverse," I answered. "As perhapsyou heard, I put less into stock and sowed grain largely. It is myopinion that, as has happened elsewhere, the plow furrows will presentlydisplace many of the unfenced cattle-runs. It is hardly wise to put allone's eggs into the same basket; but my plowing was not whollysuccessful, sir."
"It is a long way to Laurentian tide-water, and, assisted by Winnipegmills, the Manitoba men would beat you," said Haldane, with a shrewdglance at me.
"For the East they certainly would, sir," I answered. "But I see noreason why, if we get the promised railroad, we should not have our ownmills; and we lie near the gates of a good market in British Columbia."
Haldane nodded approval, and I was gratified. He was not a practicalfarmer, but it was said that he rarely made a mistake concerning thefinancial aspect of any industrial enterprise.
"You may be right. I wish I had taken in the next ranch when I boughtBonaventure. But, from what I gather, you have extended your operationssomewhat rapidly. Is it permissible to ask how you managed in respect tocapital?"
The speaker's tone was friendly, and I did not resent the question. "Iborrowed on interest, sir; after three good seasons I paid off one loan,and, seeing an opportunity, borrowed again. As it happened, I lost anumber of my stock; but this year should leave me with much moreplowland broken and liabilities considerably reduced."
"You borrowed from a bank?" asked Haldane, and looked a little graverwhen I answered, "No."
It was, as transpired later, a great pity he spoke again before I toldhim where I had obtained the money; but fate would have it so.
"I have grown gray at the game you are commencing; but, unless you havea gift for it, it is a dangerous one, and the facilities for obtainingcredit are the bane of this country," he said. "I don't wish to checkany man's enterprise, but I knew the man who started you, and promisedhim in his last sickness to keep an eye on you. Take it as an axiom thatif you can't get an honest partner you should deal only with the banks.Otherwise the mortgage speculator comes uppermost in the end. He'llcarry you over, almost against your wishes, when times are good, butwhen a few adverse seasons run in succession, he will take you by thethroat when you least expect it. Your neighbors are panic-stricken;nobody with money will look at your property, and the blood-suckerseizes his opportunity."
"But if he sold one up under such circumstances he could not recover hisloan, much less charges and interest," I interposed; and Haldanelaughed.
"A man of the class I'm describing would not wish to recover in thatway. He is not short of money, and knows bad seasons don't last forever,so he sells off your property for, say, half its value, recovers most ofwhat he lent, and still--remember the oppressive interest--holds youfast for the balance. He also puts up a dummy to buy the place--atdepression value--pays a foreman to run it, and when times improve sellsthe property on which you spent the borrowed money for twice as much."
Haldane nodded to emphasize his remarks as he leaned forward towards me."The man you were hunting was handled in a similar fashion, and itnaturally made him savage. We are neighbors, Ormesby, and if ever youdon't quite see your way out of a difficulty you might do worse thanconsult me."
He moved towards the others when I thanked him, and left me slightlytroubled. I knew his offer was genuine, but being obstinately proud,there were reasons why he would be the last man I should care to ask forassistance in a difficulty. That I should ever have anything worthoffering Beatrice Haldane appeared at one time a chimerical fancy; butthough her father's words left their impression, I had made someprogress along the road to prosperity. Ever since the brief days I spentin her company in England a vague purpose had been growing into definiteshape; but that night I had discovered, with a shock, that if thedifference in wealth between us had been lessened, she was far removedby experience, as well as culture, from a plain stock-raiser.