CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
A SURPRISING DISCOVERY--AND MORE.
When Ian Macdonald had seen his father's house fairly stranded on theknoll, and had made it fast there with innumerable ropes, thin andthick, as the Lilliputians secured Gulliver, he bethought him that itwas high time to visit the Little Mountain, to which his father had goneon at that time, and inform him of the amazing fact.
Before setting off, however, common propriety required that he shouldlook in at Willow Creek in passing, not only to let them know what hadoccurred, if they had not already observed it, but to ask if there wasany message for Mr Ravenshaw.
First releasing Peegwish, who now regarded him as a maniac, he embarkedwith him in the punt, and rowed over.
It was by that time approaching the afternoon. Before that--indeedbefore the house of Angus had gone afloat--Tony, Victor, andPetawanaquat had gone off to the Little Mountain in search of MrRavenshaw. Those of the family who remained behind had been so busyabout their various avocations, that no one had observed the suddenremoval of their neighbour's dwelling.
"Cora! quick! come here!" cried Elsie, in a tone that alarmed hersister. "Am I dreaming?"
Cora looked out at the window, where the other stood as if petrified."Angus Macdonald's house on the knoll!" she screamed.
The scream brought her mother and Miss Trim hurriedly into the room.They stared in speechless amazement, and rubbed their eyes, but theycould not rub the house of Angus Macdonald off the knoll.
"There comes Ian in the punt," said Cora; "he will explain it."
"He seems to be miserable enough about it if one may judge from theexpression of his face," observed Miss Trim.
Poor Ian was indeed profoundly miserable. The excitement of the recentevent over, his mind insisted on reverting to his forlorn condition."So near," he thought, "and yet to miss her! Old Ravenshaw could notrefuse her to me now, but of what avail is his consent without Elsie's?Ah, Lambert! you're a lucky fellow, and it is shameful in me to wish itwere otherwise when it makes Elsie happy."
Ian now tried to act philosophically, but it would not do. In the upperroom he gave the ladies a brief account of his adventure. He spoke in acold, passionless manner, without looking once at Elsie. Of course, hedid not reveal the motives that had influenced him. When he hadfinished he rose abruptly to leave.
"Don't go yet," said Mrs Ravenshaw, "there's a bit of carpentering thatI want done, and there is not a man left at the house to do it. Thelast gale loosened some of the shingles on the roof, and one of themslipped down to-day, so that the place leaks.--Go, Elsie, and show himthe shingle near the attic window."
Ian looked at Elsie, and his resolves vanished like smoke. He wentmeekly to the attic.
"You are much changed," said Elsie, "since you went on this trip."
"Changed? Not for the worse, I hope," said Ian.
"Well, scarcely for the better," returned the girl with a smile. "See,here is the window, and the loose shingle is close to the sill. Youwon't require to go out on the roof. There is father's tool-box. Ifyou want anything some of us will be in the room below. You may call,or come down."
"Stay, Elsie," said the youth, turning abruptly on her. "You say I amchanged. Well, perhaps I am. I've gone through pretty severe hardshipssince we parted, and the injuries I received on gaining _this_ have lefttheir mark."
He touched, as he spoke, the splendid bear-claw collar which stillgraced his neck.
"I doubt not you have suffered," returned Elsie, in a softened tone,"but you are now well, or nearly so, and your reason is not a sufficientone to account for your being rude to all your old friends, and takingno interest in anything."
"Am I, then, so rude, so callous?" rejoined Ian, drawing his hand acrosshis brow. "Ah! Elsie, if--if--but what am I saying? Forgive me! Ithink that grizzly must have touched my brain when he had me under hispaw. There can be no harm, however, in telling you that a wish, lightlyexpressed by you long ago, has been the motive power which led to theprocuring of this collar. Will you accept it of me now? It is but atrifle, yet, being a bad hunter, and more used to grammars than to guns,it cost me no trifle of anxiety and trouble before I won it. I amafraid that the hope of procuring it for you had almost as much to dowith cheering me on as the hope of finding Tony. Nay, don't refuse it,Elsie, from one who has known you so long that he feels almost as if hemight regard you as a sister."
He took off the collar as he spoke, and, with a return of his wontedheartiness, presented it to Elsie. There was something in his manner,however, which induced her to blush and hesitate.
"Your kindness in searching for Tony we can never forget or repay," shesaid quickly, "and--and--"
She paused.
"Well, well," continued Ian, a little impatiently; "I did not mean totalk of Tony just now. Surely you won't refuse a gift from so old afriend as I on the eve of my departure for Canada?"
"For Canada!" echoed Elsie, in surprise.
"Yes. I leave the instant I can get my affairs in Red River settled."
"And you return?"
"Never!"
Elsie looked at the youth in undisguised astonishment. She, too, beganto suspect that a claw of the collar must have touched his brain.
"But why hesitate?" continued Ian. "Surely you cannot refuse me sosimple a favour! Even Lambert himself would approve of it in thecircumstances."
"Lambert!" exclaimed Elsie, with increasing amazement; "what has Lambertgot to do with it?"
It was now Ian's turn to look surprised.
"Forgive me if I have touched on a forbidden subject; but as every onein the settlement seems to know of your engagement to Lambert, Ithought--"
"_My_ engagement!" interrupted Elsie. "It is Cora who is engaged toLambert."
A sudden and mighty shock seemed to fall on Ian Macdonald. He slightlystaggered, paled a little, then became fiery red, leaped forward, andcaught the girl's hand.
"Elsie! Elsie!" he exclaimed, in tones of suppressed eagerness, "will--will you accept the collar?"
He put it over her head as he spoke, and she blushed deeply, but did notrefuse it.
"And, Elsie," he added, in a deeper voice, drawing her nearer, "will youaccept the hunter?"
"No," answered Elsie, with _such_ an arch smile; "but I would accept theschoolmaster if he were not going away to Canada for--"
She did not finish the sentence, because something shut her mouth.
"You're taking a _very_ long time to that shingle," called MrsRavenshaw from below. "Have you got everything you want, Ian?"
"Yes," replied Ian promptly; "I've got all that the world contains."
"What's that you say?"
"It will soon be done now, mother," cried Elsie, breaking away with asoft laugh, and hurrying down-stairs.
She was right. A few minutes sufficed to put the loose shingle torights, and then Ian descended to the room below.
"What a time you have been about it!" said Cora, with a suspiciousglance at the young man's face; "and how flushed you are! I had no ideathat fixing a loose shingle was such hard work."
"Oh yes, it's tremendously hard work," said Ian, recovering himself;"you have to detach it from the roof, you know, and it is wonderful thetenacity with which nails hold on sometimes; and then there's thefitting of the new shingle to the--"
"Come, don't talk nonsense," said Cora; "you know that is not what keptyou. You have been telling some secret to Elsie. What was it?"
Instead of answering, Ian turned with a twinkle in his eyes, and askedabruptly:
"By the way--when does Louis Lambert return?"
It was now Cora's turn to flush.
"I don't know," she said, bending quickly over her work; "how should _I_know? But you have not answered my question.--Oh! look there!"
She pointed to the doorway, where a huge rat was seen seated, looking atthem as if in solemn surprise at the trifling nature of theirconversation.
Not sorry to have a reason for escaping,
Ian uttered a laughing shout,threw his cap at the creature, missed, and rushed out of the room inchase of it. Of course he did not catch it; but, continuing his flightdown-stairs, he jumped into the punt, pushed through the passage, andout at the front door. As he passed under the windows he looked up witha smile, and saw Cora shaking her little fist at him.
"You have not improved in your shooting," she cried; "you missed therat."
"Never mind," he replied, "Lambert will fetch his rifle and hunt for it;and, I say, Cora, ask Elsie to explain how shingles are put on. Sheknows all about it."
He kissed his hand as he turned the corner of the house, and rowed away.
A dark shadow falling over him at the moment caused him to turn round,and there, to his amazement, stood one of his father's largest barns!It had been floated, like many other houses, from its foundation, and,having been caught by a diverging current, had been stranded on the lawnat the side of Mr Ravenshaw's house so as to completely shut out theview in that direction.
Intense amusement followed Ian's feeling of surprise. His first impulsewas to return and let the inmates of Willow Creek know what hadoccurred; but be thinking himself that they would find it out the firsttime they chanced to look from the windows on that side of the house,and observing that the day was advancing, he changed his mind and rowedaway in the direction of the plains, chuckling heartily as he meditatedon the very peculiar alterations which the flood had effected on theproperties of his father and Samuel Ravenshaw, to say nothing of theprobable result in regard to his own future.
A stiffish breeze sprang up soon after he left. Being a fair wind, heset up a rag of sail that fortunately chanced to be in the punt, andadvanced swiftly on his voyage to the Little Mountain.
On their way to the same place, at an earlier part of the day, Victorand Tony, with Petawanaquat and Meekeye, touched at the mission station.Many of the people were still on the stage, but Mrs Cockran, findingthat the water had almost ceased to rise, and that the parsonage stillstood fast, returned to the garret of her old home. Here she receivedVictor and the recovered Tony with great delight. It chanced to beabout the period which Tony styled feeding-time, so that, althoughVictor was anxious to reach his father as soon as possible, he agreed toremain there for an hour or so. While they were enjoying thehospitality of the garret, Petawanaquat was entertained in acomparatively quiet corner of the stage, by a youth named Sinclair, aScotch half-breed, who had been a pupil in Ian Macdonald's school, and,latterly, an assistant.
Petawanaquat had made the acquaintance of young Sinclair on his firstvisit to Red River. They were kindred spirits. Both were earnest men,intensely desirous of finding out truth--truth in regard to everythingthat came under their notice, but especially in reference to God andreligion. This grave, thoughtful disposition and earnest longing is byno means confined to men of refinement and culture. In all ranks andconditions among men, from the so-called savage upwards, there have beenfound more or less profound thinkers, and honest logical reasoners, who,but for the lack of training, might have become pillars in the world ofintellect.
Both Sinclair and Petawanaquat were naturally quiet and modest men, butthey were not credulous. They did not absolutely disbelieve theiropponents, or teachers; but, while giving them full credit for honestyand sincerity--because themselves were honest and sincere--theynevertheless demanded proof of every position advanced, and utterlyrefused to take anything on credit. Bigoted men found them "obstinate"and "troublesome." Capable reasoners found them "interesting."Sinclair possessed a considerable amount of education, and spoke theIndian language fluently. Petawanaquat, although densely ignorant, hadan acute and logical mind.
To look at them as they sat there, spoon in hand, over a pan of burgout,one would not readily have guessed the drift of their conversation.
"It almost broke my heart," said Sinclair, "when I heard you had stolenMr Ravenshaw's boy, and words cannot express my joy that you haverepented and brought him back. What induced you to steal him?"
"My bad heart," replied the Indian.
"Was it then your _good_ heart that made you bring him back?" askedSinclair, with a keen glance at his friend.
"No; it was the voice of the Great Spirit in Petawanaquat that made himdo it. The voice said, `Forgive! Return good for evil!'"
"Ah; you learned these words here, and have been pondering them."
"Petawanaquat heard them here; he did not learn them here," returned thered man quietly. "Listen!" he continued with a sudden glow of animationon his countenance, "My brother is young, but he knows much, and iswise. He will understand his friend. In the mountains I pitched mytent. It was a lonely spot. No trappers or Indians came there, but oneday in winter a paleface came. He was a servant of the Great Spirit.He talked much. I said little, but listened. The paleface was veryearnest. He spoke much of Jesus. He told the story of His love, Hissufferings, His death. He spoke of little else. When he was gone Iasked Jesus to forgive me. He forgave. Then I was glad, but I lookedat Tonyquat and my spirit was troubled. Then it was that I heard thevoice of the Great Spirit. It did not fall on my ear: it fell upon myheart like the rippling of a mountain stream. It said, `Send the childback to his father.' I obeyed the Voice, and I am here."
With sparkling eyes Sinclair stretched out his right hand, and, graspingthat of the red man, said in a deep voice--"My brother!"
Petawanaquat returned the grasp in silence. Before either of them couldresume the conversation they were interrupted by Victor shouting from awindow of the parsonage to fetch the canoe.
A few minutes later they were again on their way.