CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
OLD FRIENDS AND SCENES--COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE.
Mr Kennedy, senior, was seated in his own comfortable armchair beforethe fire, in his own cheerful little parlour, in his own snug house, atRed River, with his own highly characteristic breakfast of buffalosteaks, tea, and pemmican before him, and his own beautiful,affectionate daughter Kate presiding over the teapot, and exercisingunwarrantably despotic sway over a large grey cat, whose sole happinessseemed to consist in subjecting Mr Kennedy to perpetual annoyance, andwhose main object in life was to catch its master and mistress off theirguard, that it might go quietly to the table, the meat-safe, or thepantry, and there--deliberately--steal!
Kate had grown very much since we saw her last. She was quite a womannow, and well worthy of a minute description here; but we never coulddescribe a woman to our own satisfaction. We have frequently tried, andfailed; so we substitute, in place, the remarks of Kate's friends andacquaintances about her--a criterion on which to form a judgment that isa pretty correct one, especially when the opinion pronounced happens tobe favourable. Her father said she was an angel, and the only joy ofhis life. This latter expression, we may remark, was false; for MrKennedy frequently said to Kate, confidentially, that Charley was agreat happiness to him; and we are quite sure that the pipe hadsomething to do with the felicity of his existence. But the oldgentleman _said_ that Kate was the _only_ joy of his life, and that isall we have to do with at present. Several ill-tempered old ladies inthe settlement said that Miss Kennedy was really a quiet, modest girl--testimony this (considering the source whence it came) that was quiteconclusive. Then old Mr Grant remarked to old Mr Kennedy, over aconfidential pipe, that Kate was certainly, in his opinion, the mostmodest and the prettiest girl in Red River. Her old school companionscalled her a darling. Tom Whyte said "he never see'd nothink like hernowhere." The clerks spoke of her in terms too glowing to remember; andthe last arrival among them, the youngest, with the slang of the "oldcountry" fresh on his lips, called her a _stunner_! Even Mrs Grant gotup one of her half-expressed remarks about her, which everybody wouldhave supposed to be quizzical in its nature, were it not for thefrequent occurrence of the terms "good girl," "innocent creature," whichseemed to contradict that idea. There were also one or two haplessswains who _said_ nothing, but what they _did_ and _looked_ was initself unequivocal. They went quietly into a state of slow, drivellingimbecility whenever they happened to meet with Kate; looked as if theyhad become shockingly unwell, and were rather pleased than otherwisethat their friends should think so too; and upon all and every occasionin which Kate was concerned, conducted themselves with an amount ofinsane stupidity (although sane enough at other times) that nothingcould account for, save the idea that their admiration of her wasinexpressible, and that _that_ was the most effective way in which theycould express it.
"Kate, my darling," said Mr Kennedy, as he finished the last mouthfulof tea, "wouldn't it be capital to get another letter from Charley?"
"Yes, dear papa, it would indeed. But I am quite sure that the nexttime we shall hear from him will be when he arrives here, and makes thehouse ring with his own dear voice."
"How so, girl?" said the old trader, with a smile. It may as well beremarked here that the above opening of conversation was by no meansnew; it was stereotyped now. Ever since Charley had been appointed tothe management of Lower Fort Garry, his father had been so engrossed bythe idea, and spoke of it to Kate so frequently, that he had got into away of feeling as if the event so much desired would happen in a fewdays, although he knew quite well that it could not, in the course ofordinary or extra-ordinary circumstances, occur in less than severalmonths. However, as time rolled on he began regularly, every day ortwo, to ask Kate questions about Charley that she could not by anypossibility answer, but which he knew from experience would lead herinto a confabulation about his son, which helped a little to allay hisimpatience.
"Why, you see, father," she replied, "it is three months since we gothis last, and you know there has been no opportunity of forwardingletters from Stoney Creek since it was dispatched. Now, the nextopportunity that occurs--"
"Mee-aow!" interrupted the cat, which had just finished two pats offresh butter without being detected, and began, rather recklessly, toexult.
"Hang that cat!" cried the old gentleman angrily, "it'll be the death o'me yet;" and seizing the first thing that came to hand, which happenedto be the loaf of bread, discharged it with such violence, and with socorrect an aim, that it knocked, not only the cat, but the teapot andsugar-bowl also, off the table.
"O dear papa!" exclaimed Kate.
"Really, my dear," cried Mr Kennedy, half angry and half ashamed, "wemust get rid of that brute immediately. It has scarcely been a weekhere, and it has done more mischief already than a score of ordinarycats would have done in a twelvemonth."
"But then, the mice, papa--"
"Well, but--but--oh, hang the mice!"
"Yes; but how are we to catch them?" said Kate.
At this moment the cook, who had heard the sound of breaking crockery,and judged it expedient that he should be present, opened the door.
"How now, rascal!" exclaimed his master, striding up to him. "Did Iring for you, eh?"
"No, sir; but--"
"But! eh, but! no more `buts,' you scoundrel, else I'll--"
The motion of Mr Kennedy's fist warned the cook to make a precipitateretreat, which he did at the same moment that the cat resolved to runfor its life. This caused them to meet in the doorway, and making acompound entanglement with the mat, they both fell into the passage witha loud crash. Mr Kennedy shut the door gently, and returned to hischair, patting Kate on the head as he passed.
"Now, darling, go on with what you were saying; and don't mind theteapot--let it lie."
"Well," resumed Kate, with a smile, "I was saying that the nextopportunity Charley can have will be by the brigade in spring, which weexpect to arrive here, you know, a month hence; but we won't get aletter by that, as I feel convinced that he and Harry will come by itthemselves."
"And the express canoe, Kate--the express canoe," said Mr Kennedy, witha contortion of the left side of his head that was intended for a wink;"you know they got leave to come by express, Kate."
"Oh, as to the express, father, I don't expect them to come by that, aspoor Harry Somerville has been so ill that they would never think ofventuring to subject him to all the discomforts, not to mention thedangers, of a canoe voyage."
"I don't know that, lass--I don't know that," said Mr Kennedy, givinganother contortion with his left cheek. "In fact, I shouldn't wonder ifthey arrived this very day; and it's well to be on the look-out, so I'moff to the banks of the river, Kate." Saying this, the old gentlemanthrew on an old fur cap with the peak all awry, thrust his left handinto his right glove, put on the other with the back to the front andthe thumb in the middle finger, and bustled out of the house, mutteringas he went, "Yes, it's well to be on the look-out for him."
Mr Kennedy, however, was disappointed: Charley did not arrive that day,nor the next, nor the day after that. Nevertheless the old gentleman'sfaith each day remained as firm as on the day previous that Charleywould arrive on _that_ day "for certain." About a week after this, MrKennedy put on his hat and gloves as usual, and sauntered down to thebanks of the river, where his perseverance was rewarded by the sight ofa small canoe rapidly approaching the landing-place. From the costumeof the three men who propelled it, the cut of the canoe itself, theprecision and energy of its movements, and several other minute pointsabout it only apparent to the accustomed eye of a nor'-wester, he judgedat once that this was a new arrival, and not merely one of the canoesbelonging to the settlers, many of which might be seen passing up anddown the river. As they drew near he fixed his eyes eagerly upon them.
"Very odd," he exclaimed, while a shade of disappointment passed overhis brow: "it ought to be him, but it's not like him; too big--differentnose alt
ogether. Don't know any of the three. Humph!--well, he's_sure_ to come to-morrow, at all events." Having come to the conclusionthat it was not Charley's canoe, he wheeled sulkily round and saunteredback towards his house, intending to solace himself with a pipe. Atthat moment he heard a shout behind him, and ere he could well turnround to see whence it came, a young man bounded up the bank and seizedhim in his arms with a hug that threatened to dislocate his ribs. Theold gentleman's first impulse was to bestow on his antagonist (for heverily believed him to be such) one of those vigorous touches with hisclinched fist which in days of yore used to bring some of his disputesto a summary and effectual close; but his intention changed when theyouth spoke.
"Father, dear, dear father!" said Charley, as he loosened his grasp,and, still holding him by both hands, looked earnestly into his facewith swimming eyes.
Old Mr Kennedy seemed to have lost his powers of speech. He gazed athis son for a few seconds in silence, then suddenly threw his armsaround him and engaged in a species of wrestle which he intended for anembrace.
"O Charley, my boy!" he exclaimed, "you've come at last--God bless you!Let's look at you. Quite changed: six feet; no, not quite changed--theold nose; black as an Indian. O Charley, my dear boy! I've beenwaiting for you for months; why did you keep me so long, eh? Hang it,where's my handkerchief?" At this last exclamation Mr Kennedy'sfeelings quite overcame him; his full heart overflowed at his eyes, sothat when he tried to look at his son, Charley appeared partly magnifiedand partly broken up into fragments. Fumbling in his pocket for themissing handkerchief, which he did not find, he suddenly seized his furcap, in a burst of exasperation, and wiped his eyes with that.Immediately after, forgetting that it _was_ a cap, he thrust it into hispocket.
"Come, dear father," cried Charley, drawing the old man's arm throughhis, "let us go home. Is Kate there?"
"Ay, ay," cried Mr Kennedy, waving his hand as he was dragged away, andbestowing, quite unwittingly, a backhanded slap on the cheek to HarrySomerville, which nearly felled that youth to the ground. "Ay, ay!Kate, to be sure, darling. Yes, quite right, Charley; a pipe--that'sit, my boy, let's have a pipe!" And thus, uttering incoherent andbroken sentences, he disappeared through the doorway with his long-lostand now recovered son.
Meanwhile Harry and Jacques continued to pace quietly before the house,waiting patiently until the first ebullition of feeling at the meetingof Charley with his father and sister should be over. In a few minutesCharley ran out.
"Hollo, Harry! come in, my boy; forgive my forgetfulness, but--"
"My dear fellow," interrupted Harry, "what nonsense you are talking! Ofcourse you forgot me, and everybody and everything on earth, just now;but have you seen Kate? Is--"
"Yes, yes," cried Charley, as he pushed his friend before him, anddragged Jacques after him into the parlour.--"Here's Harry, father,Jacques.--You've heard of Jacques, Kate?"
"Harry, my dear boy!" cried Mr Kennedy, seizing his young friend by thehand; "how are you, lad? Better, I hope."
At that moment Mr Kennedy's eye fell on Jacques, who stood in thedoorway, cap in hand, with the usual quiet smile lighting up hiscountenance.
"What! Jacques--Jacques Caradoc!" he cried, in astonishment.
"The same, sir; you an' I have know'd each other afore now in the way o'trade," answered the hunter, as he grasped his old bourgeois by the handand wrung it warmly.
Mr Kennedy, senior, was so overwhelmed by the combination of excitinginfluences to which he was now subjected, that he plunged his hand intohis pocket for the handkerchief again, and pulled out the fur hatinstead, which he flung angrily at the cat; then using the sleeve of hiscoat as a substitute, he proceeded to put a series of abrupt questionsto Jacques and Charley simultaneously.
In the meantime Harry went up to Kate and _stared_ at her. We do notmean to say that he was intentionally rude to her. No! He went towardsher intending to shake hands, and renew acquaintance with his oldcompanion; but the moment he caught sight of her he was struck not onlydumb, but motionless. The odd part of it was that Kate, too, wasaffected in precisely the same way, and both of them exclaimed mentally,"Can it be possible?" Their lips, however, gave no utterance to thequestion. At length Kate recollected herself, and blushing deeply, heldout her hand, as she said--
"Forgive me, Har--Mr Somerville; I was so surprised at your alteredappearance I could scarcely believe that my old friend stood before me."
Harry's cheeks crimsoned as he seized her hand and said: "Indeed, Ka--a--Miss--that is, in fact, I've been very ill, and doubtless havechanged somewhat; but the very same thought struck me in regard toyourself, you are so--so--"
Fortunately for Harry, who was gradually becoming more and moreconfused, to the amusement of Charley, who had closely observed themeeting of his friend and sister, Mr Kennedy came up.
"Eh! what's that? What did you say _struck_ you, Harry, my lad?"
"_You_ did, father, on his arrival," replied Charley, with a broad grin,"and a very neat back-hander it was."
"Nonsense, Charley," interrupted Harry, with a laugh.--"I was justsaying, sir, that Miss Kennedy is so changed that I could hardly believeit to be herself."
"And I had just paid Mr Somerville the same compliment, papa," criedKate, laughing and blushing simultaneously.
Mr Kennedy thrust his hands into his pockets, frowned portentously ashe looked from the one to the other, and said slowly, "_Miss_ Kennedy,_Mr_ Somerville!" then turning to his son, remarked, "That's somethingnew, Charley lad; that girl is _Miss_ Kennedy, and that youth there is_Mr_ Somerville!"
Charley laughed loudly at this sally, especially when the old gentlemanfollowed it up with a series of contortions of the left cheek, meant forviolent winking.
"Right, father, right; it won't do here. We don't know anybody but Kateand Harry in this house."
Harry laughed in his own genuine style at this.
"Well, Kate be it, with all my heart," said he; "but, really, at firstshe seemed so unlike the Kate of former days that I could not bringmyself to call her so."
"Humph!" said Mr Kennedy. "But come, boys, with me to my smoking-room,and let's have a talk over a pipe, while Kate looks after dinner."Giving Charley another squeeze of the hand and Harry a pat on theshoulder, the old gentleman put on his cap (with the peak behind), andled the way to his glass divan in the garden.
It is perhaps unnecessary for us to say that Kate Kennedy and HarrySomerville had, within the last hour, fallen deeply, hopelessly,utterly, irrevocably, and totally in love with each other. They did notmerely fall up to the ears in love. To say that they fell _over_ headand ears in it would be, comparatively speaking, to say nothing. Infact they did not _fall_ into it at all. They went deliberatelybackwards, took a long race, sprang high into the air, turned completelyround, and went down head first into the flood, descending to a depthutterly beyond the power of any deep-sea lead to fathom, or of any humanmind adequately to appreciate. Up to that day Kate had thought of Harryas the hilarious youth who used to take every opportunity he could ofescaping from the counting-room and hastening to spend the afternoon inrambling through the woods with her and Charley. But the instant shesaw him a man, with a bright, cheerful countenance, on which roughliving and exposure to frequent peril had stamped unmistakable lines ofenergy and decision, and to which recent illness had imparted acaptivating touch of sadness--the moment she beheld this, and theundeniable scrap of whisker that graced his cheeks, and the slight_shade_ that rested on his upper lip, her heart leaped violently intoher throat, where it stuck hard and fast, like a stranded ship on alee-shore.
In like manner, when Harry beheld his former friend a woman, withbeaming eyes and clustering ringlets, and--(there, we won't attemptit!)--in fact, surrounded by every nameless and nameable grace thatmakes woman exasperatingly delightful, his heart performed the sameeccentric movement, and he felt that his fate was sealed; that he hadbeen sucked into a rapid which was too strong even for his expert andpowerful arm to contend agains
t, and that he must drift with the currentnow, _nolens volens_, and run it as he best could.
When Kate retired to her sleeping-apartment that night, she endeavouredto comport herself in her usual manner; but all her efforts failed. Shesat down on her bed, and remained motionless for half an hour; then shestarted and sighed deeply; then she smiled and opened her Bible, butforgot to read it; then she rose hastily, sighed again, took off hergown, hang it up on a peg, and, returning to the dressing-table, satdown on her best bonnet; then she cried a little, at which point thecandle suddenly went out; so she gave a slight scream, and at last wentto bed in the dark.
Three hours afterwards, Harry Somerville, who had been enjoying a cigarand a chat with Charley and his father, rose, and bidding his friendsgood-night, retired to his chamber, where he flung himself down on achair, thrust his hands into his pockets, stretched out his legs, gazedabstractedly before him, and exclaimed--"O Kate, my exquisite girl,you've floored me quite flat!"
As he continued to sit in silence, the gaze of affection gradually andslowly changed into a look of intense astonishment as he beheld the greycat sitting comfortably on the table, and regarding him with a look ofcomplacent interest, as if it thought Harry's style of addressing it washighly satisfactory--though rather unusual.
"Brute!" exclaimed Harry, springing from his seat and darting towardsit. But the cat was too well accustomed to old Mr Kennedy's suddenonsets to be easily taken by surprise. With a bound it reached thefloor, and took shelter under the bed, whence it was not ejected untilHarry, having first thrown his shoes, soap, clothes-brush, andrazor-strop at it, besides two or three books and several miscellaneousarticles of toilet, at last opened the door (a thing, by the way, thatpeople would do well always to remember before endeavouring to expel acat from an impregnable position), and drew the bed into the middle ofthe room. Then, but not till then, it fled, with its back, its tail,its hair, its eyes--in short, its entire body--bristling in rampantindignation. Having dislodged the enemy, Harry replaced the bed, threwoff his coat and waistcoat, untied his neckcloth, sat down on his chairagain, and fell into a reverie; from which, after half an hour, hestarted, clasped his hands, stamped his foot, glared up at the ceiling,slapped his thigh, and exclaimed, in the voice of a hen, "Yes, I'll doit, or die!"