Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: "All had gone well the first day"]
The Intriguers
By HAROLD BINDLOSS
Author of "Ranching for Sylvia," "Alton of Somasco,""Thurston of Orchard Valley," "By Right of Purchase,"Etc.
With Frontispiece in Colors By
D. C. HUTCHISON
A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
114-120 East Twenty-third Street New York
Published by Arrangement With Frederick A. Stokes Company
Copyright, 1914, by
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
All rights reserved
February, 1914
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE BLAKE AFFAIR II ON THE RIVER BOAT III THE COUSINS IV THE MAN FROM CONNECTICUT V CORNERING THE BOBCAT VI THE PRAIRIE VII THE OCCULT MAN VIII TROUBLE IX A SUSPICIOUS MOVE X THE MUSKEG XI KIDNAPPED XII THE FEVER PATIENT XIII A STAUNCH ALLY XIV DEFEAT XV THE FROZEN NORTH XVI THE TRAIL OF THE CARIBOU XVII A RESPITE XVIII THE BACK TRAIL XIX THE DESERTED TEPEES XX A STARTLING DISCOVERY XXI A MATTER OF DUTY XXII THE GIRL AND THE MAN XXIII SOLVING THE PROBLEM XXIV LOVE AND VICTORY
THE INTRIGUERS
CHAPTER I
THE BLAKE AFFAIR
On a fine morning early in July Mrs. Keith sat with a companion,enjoying the sunshine, near the end of Dufferin Avenue, which, skirtsthe elevated ground above the city of Quebec. Behind her rose theHeights of Abraham where the dying Wolfe wrested Canada from France; infront, churches, banks, offices and dwellings, curiously combining theold and the very new, rose tier on tier to the great red FrontenacHotel. It is a picturesque city that climbs back from its noble river;supreme, perhaps, in its situation among Canadian towns, and stillretaining something of the exotic stamp set upon it by its firstbuilders whose art was learned in the France of long ago.
From where she sat Mrs. Keith could not see the ugly wooden wharves.Her glance rested on the flood that flowed toward her, still and deep,through a gorge lined with crags and woods, and then, widening rapidly,washed the shores of a low, green island. Opposite her white housesshone on the Levis ridge, and beyond this a vast sweep of country,steeped in gradations of color that ended in ethereal blue, rolled awaytoward the hills of Maine.
Mrs. Keith and her companion were both elderly. They had played theirpart in the drama of life, one of them in a strenuous manner, and nowthey were content with the position of lookers-on. So far, however,nothing had occurred since breakfast to excite their interest.
"I think I'll go to Montreal by the special boat tonight," Mrs. Keithsaid with characteristic briskness. "The hotel's crowded, the town'sfull, and you keep meeting people whom you know or have heard about. Icame here to see Canada, but I find it hard to realize that I'm not inLondon; I'm tired of the bustle."
Mrs. Ashborne smiled. She had met Margaret Keith by chance in Quebec,but their acquaintance was of several years' standing.
"Tired?" she said. "That is sorely a new sensation for you. I'veoften envied you your energy."
Age had touched Mrs. Keith lightly, though she had long been achildless widow and had silvery hair. Tall and finely made, withprominent nose and piercing eyes, she was marked by a certainstateliness and a decided manner. She was blunt without rudeness, andthough often forceful was seldom arrogant.
Careless of her dress, as she generally was, Margaret Keith bore thestamp of refinement and breeding, "Ah!" she said; "I begin to feel I'mold. But will you come to Montreal with me to-night?"
"I suppose I'd better, though the boat takes longer than the train, andI hear that the Place Viger is full. I don't know anything about theother hotels; they might not be comfortable."
"They'll no doubt be able to offer us all that we require, and I neverpamper myself," Mrs. Keith replied. "In fact, it's now and then arelief to do something that's opposed to the luxuriousness of the age."
'This was a favorite topic, but she broke off as a man came toward her,carrying one or two small parcels which apparently belonged to the girlat his side. He was a handsome man, tall and rather spare, with darkeyes and a soldierly look. His movements were quick and forceful, buta hint of what Mrs. Keith called swagger somewhat spoiled his bearing.She thought he allowed his self-confidence to be seen too plainly. Thegirl formed a marked contrast to him; she was short and slender, herhair and eyes were brown, while her prettiness, for one could not have,called her beautiful, was of an essentially delicate kind. It did notstrike one at first sight, but grew upon her acquaintances. Her mannerwas quiet and reserved and she was plainly dressed in white, but whenshe turned and dismissed her companion her pose was graceful. Then shehanded Mrs. Keith some letters and papers.
"I have been to the post-office, and Captain Sedgwick made them searchfor our mail," she said. "It came some time ago, but there was amistake through its not being addressed to the hotel."
Mrs. Keith took the letters and gave Mrs. Ashborne an English newspaper.
"The bobcat has torn a hole in the basket," the girl went on, "and I'mafraid it's trying to get at the mink."
"Tell some of the hotel people to take it out at once and see that thebasket is sent to be mended."
The girl withdrew and Mrs. Ashborne looked up.
"Did I hear aright?" she asked in surprise. "She said a bobcat?"
Mrs. Keith laughed.
"I am making a collection of the smaller American animals. A bobcat issomething like a big English ferret. It has high hindquarters, andwalks with a curious jump--I suppose that is how it got its name. I'mnot sure it lives in Canada; an American got this one for me. I findnatural history very interesting."
"I should imagine you found it expensive. Aren't some of the creaturessavage?"
"Millicent looks after them; and I always beat the sellers down.Fortunately, I can afford to indulge in my caprices. You can considerthis my latest fad, if you like. I am subject to no claims, and mymeans are hardly large enough to make me an object of interest tosycophantic relatives."
"Is your companion fond of attending to wild animals?" Mrs. Ashborneinquired. "I have wondered where you got her. You have had a number,but she is different from the rest."
"I suppose you mean she is too good for the post?" Mrs. Keithsuggested. "However, I don't mind telling you that she is EustaceGraham's daughter; you must have heard of him."
"Eustace Graham? Wasn't he in rather bad odor--only tolerated on thefringe of society? I seem to recollect some curious tales about him."
"Toward the end he was outside the fringe; indeed, I don't know how hekept on his feet so long; but he went downhill fast. A plucker ofplump pigeons, an expensive friend to smart young subalterns and boysabout town. Cards, bets, loans arranged, and that kind of thing. Allthe same, he had his good points when I first knew him."
"But after such a life as his daughter must have led, do you considerher a suitable person to take about with you? What do your friendsthink? They have to receive her now and then."
"I can't say that I have much cause to respect my friends' opinions,and I'm not afraid of the girl's contaminating me," Mrs. Keith replied."Besides, Millicent lost her mother early and lived with her auntsuntil a few months before her father's death. I expect Eustace feltmore embarrassed than grateful when she came to take care of him, but,to do him justice, he would see that none of the taint of hissurroundings rested on the girl. He did wrong, but I think he paid forit, and it is better to be charitable."
She broke off, and glanced down at the big liner with cream-coloredfunnel that was slowly swinging across the stream.
"I must send Millicent to buy our tickets for Montreal," she said."The hotel will be crowded before long
with that steamer's noisypassengers. I shall be glad to escape from it all. Let us hope thatMontreal will be quieter, and we shall have a chance to see a bit ofCanada."
Mrs. Ashborne opened the _Morning Post_, and presently looked up at hercompanion.
"'A marriage--between Blanche Newcombe and Captain Challoner--atThornton Holme, in Shropshire,'" she read out. "Do you know the bride?"
"I know Bertram Challoner better," Mrs. Keith replied, and was silentfor a minute or two, musing on former days. "His mother was an oldfriend of mine--a woman of imagination, with strong artistic tastes;and Bertram resembles her. It was his father, the Colonel, who forcedhim into the army, and I'm somewhat astonished that he has done sowell."
"They were all soldiers, I understand. But wasn't there some scandalabout a cousin?"
"Richard Blake?" said Mrs. Keith, making room for Millicent Graham, hercompanion, who rejoined them. "It's getting an old story, and I alwaysfound it puzzling. So far as one could Judge, Dick, Blake should havemade an excellent officer; his mother, the Colonel's sister, was trueto the Challoner strain, his father a reckless Irish sportsman."
"But what was the story? I haven't heard it."
"After Blake broke his neck when hunting, the Colonel brought Dick up,and, as a matter of course, sent him into the army. He became asapper, entering the Indian service. There he met his cousin, Bertram,who was in the line, somewhere on the frontier. They were both sentwith an expedition into the hills, and there was a night attack. Itwas important that an advanced post should be defended, and Dick hadlaid out the trenches. In the middle of the fight an officer lost hisnerve, the position was stormed, and the expedition terribly cut up.Owing to the darkness and confusion there was a doubt about who had ledthe retreat, but Dick was blamed and made no defense. In spite ofthis, he was acquitted at the inquiry, perhaps because he was afavorite and Colonel Challoner was well known upon the frontier; butthe opinion of the mess was against him. He left the service, and theChalloners never speak of him."
"I once met Lieutenant Blake," Millicent broke in, with a flush in herface. "Though he spoke only a word or two to me, he did a verychivalrous thing; one that needed courage and coolness. I find it hardto believe that such a man could ever be a coward."
"So do I," Mrs. Keith agreed. "Still, I haven't seen him since he wasa boy."
"I saw him in London just before he went to India," Mrs. Ashborne said."It's strange I have never heard the story before; although I have hadwhispers of the scandal from several quarters. It seems to be a sortof skeleton in the closet' for the Challoners."
"The disgrace was a great blow to the Colonel. He has never got overit."
"I saw some one in the hotel last night that reminded me strongly ofyoung Blake. But I suppose it couldn't have been."
"No one knows where he is," Mrs. Keith replied. "I believe he went toEast Africa, and from there he may have drifted to America. TheColonel never hears from him."
She picked up one of her letters which had not yet been opened.
"This," she said, "is from Frances Foster--you know her. I'm sure itwill contain news of the Challoner wedding."
She tore open the envelope and Mrs. Ashborne turned again to herEnglish newspaper. Millicent sat looking out over the gorge, while herthoughts went back to a dimly lighted drawing-room in a small Londonapartment, where she was feeling very lonely and half dismayed, oneevening soon after she had joined her father. A few beautiful objectsof art were scattered among the shabby furniture; there were stains ofwine on the fine Eastern rug, an inlaid table was scraped and damaged,and one chair had a broken leg. All she saw spoke of neglect andvanished prosperity. Hoarse voices and loud laughter came from an adjoining room, and a smell of cigar smoke accompanied them. Sitting atthe piano, she restlessly turned over some music and now and thenplayed a few bars to divert her troubled thoughts. Until a few weeksbefore, she had led a peaceful life in the country, and it had been apainful surprise to her to find her father of such doubtful characterand habits. She was interrupted by the violent opening of the door,and a group of excited men burst into the room. They were shoutingwith laughter at a joke which made her blush, and one dragged acompanion in by the arm. Another, breaking off from rude horse-play,came toward her with a drunken leer. She shrank from his hot face andwine-laden breath as she drew back, wondering how she could reach herfather, who stood in the doorway trying to restrain his guests. Then ayoung man sprang forward, with disgust and anger in his brown face, andshe felt that she was safe. He looked clean and wholesome by contrastwith the rest, and his movements were swift and athletic. Millicentcould remember him very well, for she had often thought of LieutenantBlake with gratitude. Just as the tipsy gallant stretched out his handto seize her, the electric light went out; there was a brief scuffle inthe darkness, the door banged, and when the light flashed up again onlyBlake and her father were in the room. Afterward her father told her,with a look of shame on his handsome, dissipated face, that he had beenafraid of something of the kind happening, and she must leave him.Millicent refused, for, worn as he was by many excesses, his health wasbreaking down; and when he fell ill she nursed him until he died. Shehad not seen Lieutenant Blake since.
Mrs. Keith's voice broke in upon her recollections. "It's possible wemay see Bertram and the new Mrs. Challoner. She is going out with him,but they are to travel by the Canadian Pacific route and spend sometime in Japan before proceeding to his Indian station." Referring tothe date of her letter she resumed, "They may have caught the boat thathas just come in; she's one of the railway Empresses, and there's anAllan liner due to-morrow. We will go to the hotel and try to get alist of the passengers."
She rose, and they walked slowly back along the avenue.