Bindloss Harold
The Mistress of Bonaventure

CHAPTER X
A TEMPTATION

Leyland had a weakness for what he termed hardening himself by occasional feats of endurance, from which it resulted that I spent several days in his company wandering, with a wholly unnecessary load of camp gear upon my back, through a desolation of uncomfortably wooded hills. Now it is not easy for a business man of domesticated habits to emulate a pack mule and enjoy the proceeding, and when Mrs. Leyland, after burdening her husband with everything she could think of, desired to add a small tin bath, there was little difficulty in predicting that our journey would not be extensive. Having a load of fifty pounds already, I ignored the suggestion that I might carry the bath, and hurried Leyland off before his spouse could further hamper us. One thick blanket, a kettle, and a few pounds of provisions would have amply sufficed, so a large-sized tent seemed to be distinctly superfluous, to say nothing of the bag filled with hair-brushes, towels, and scented soap.

Leyland commenced the march with enthusiasm, and certainly presented a picturesque appearance as he plodded along in leather jacket and fringed leggings, with the folded tent upon his shoulders and a collection of tin utensils jingling about him. I was somewhat similarly caparisoned, and, because it would have hurt his feelings, I overcame the temptation to fling half my load into a creek we crossed, though this would have greatly pleased me. A fourth of the weight would have sufficed for a two-hundred-mile journey in the West.

"There is nothing like judicious exercise for bracing one's whole system," panted my companion, when we had covered the first league in two hours or so. "How a wide prospect like this rests the vision. Say, can't we sit down and enjoy it a little?"

I nodded agreement, and we spent most of that day in sitting down and smoking, while, as it happened, a sudden breeze blew the tent over upon us at midnight, and anybody who has crawled clear of the thrashing canvas in such circumstances can guess what followed. Leyland, as generally happens, wriggled headforemost into what might be termed the pocket of the net, and it cost me some trouble to extricate him. Next morning he awoke with a toothache and general shortness of temper, as a result of trying to sleep in the rain, and appeared much less certain about the benefits to be derived from such excursions.

"If you will let me pick out the few things we really want and throw the rest away, I'll engage that you will enjoy the remainder of the march," I said.

"I wish I could, but it can't be done," and Leyland, staring ruefully at his load, shook his head. "'Twoinette's so – so blamed systematic, and if one of those brushes was missing she'd have to start in from the beginning with a whole new toilet outfit. Of course, you don't understand these things yet, but you will some day. A wife with cultured tastes requires to be considered accordingly."

I was resting on one elbow gazing up between the pine branches at the blue of the sky, with the clean-scented needles crackling under me, and made no answer. Nevertheless, it struck me that I might find too much culture irksome, especially if it implied that I must carry half my household sundries upon my back whenever I started on an expedition. Hitherto I had not considered this side of the question when indulging in certain roseate visions, but as Leyland spoke there opened up unpleasant possibilities of having to stand by, a mere director, clear of the heat and dust of effort, and pay others to do the work I found pleasure in. Then as I reflected that there was small need to trouble about such eventualities, a face, that was not Beatrice Haldane's, rose up before my fancy. It was forceful as well as pretty, quick to express sympathy and enthusiasm; and I decided that the man who won Lucille Haldane would have a helpmate who would encourage instead of restrain his energies, and, if need be, take her place beside him in the struggle. Then I dismissed the subject as having nothing to do with me.

Leyland seemed loath to resume his rambles, and on the following morning, after he had, I fancy, lain awake abusing the mosquitoes all night, his patience broke down. "I'm getting too old to enjoy this description of picnic as I used to," he said. "The fact is, if I mule this confounded bric-à-brac around much longer I shall drop in my tracks."

"Shall we turn back?" I asked him.

The tired man shook his head. "We'll strike for water, and if we can't find a canoe anywhere you can build a raft. I wouldn't crawl through any more of those muskegs for a thousand dollars."

I had no objections, and Leyland's comments became venomous during the march, for the lake was distant, and the pine woods thick. He fell into thickets, and shed his burden broadcast across the face of each steeper descent, so that it cost us many minutes to collect it again, and once we spent an hour in the mire of a muskeg on hands and knees in search of a vine-pattern mustard spoon. Leyland, who became profane during the proceedings, said his wife might consider that its loss would destroy the harmony of a whole dinner service. At last, however – my comrade, panting heavily, and progressing with a crab-like gait, because he had wrenched one knee and blistered a heel – the broad lake showed up beneath the blazing maple leaves ahead. They were donning their full glories of gold and crimson before the coming of the frost.

"Thank heaven!" said Leyland with fervent sincerity. "I'll sit here forever unless you can find something that will float me home."

He limped on until we were clear of the trees, and then flung himself down among the boulders with a gasp of relief, for fortune had treated him kindly. There was a fresh breeze blowing, and the broad stretch of water was streaked by lines of frothy white; but we had come out upon a sheltered bay, and a big catboat lay moored beneath a ledge. A group of figures rose from about a crackling fire, there was a shout of recognition, and the young man I had been introduced to as Ted Caryl came forward to greet us.

"Just in time! The kettle's boiling; but have you been practicing for a strong-man circus, Leyland?" he said. My companion, still retaining his recumbent position, answered dryly: "I have been taking exercise and diverting myself."

"So one might have fancied from your exhilarated appearance," commented Caryl. "We can give you a passage home by water if you have had enough of it."

"I'll go no other way if I have to swim," said Leyland grimly.

Then the younger man turned to me: "Do you happen to know anything about seamanship?"

"I spent all my spare time as a youngster helping to sail small craft on the English coast, and was considered a fair helmsman for my age," I said; and Caryl patted my shoulder approvingly.

"It's a mercy, because I know just next to nothing. Put up as a yacht club member, and bought this craft – she's a daisy – for five hundred dollars to give the girls a sail. Brought them down, with a light fair wind, smart enough, but though it's gone round, the thing don't steer the way she ought to in a breeze. So I've been getting mighty anxious as to how I'm to take them home again, and feel too scared to say so."

I looked at the craft, which was a half-decked boat, evidently fitted with a center-board, of the broad-beamed shallow type common on the American coast. She carried no bowsprit, her lofty mast was stepped almost in her bows, and the combination of heavy spars, short body, and wide, flat stern, presaged difficulties for an unskilled helmsman when running before any strength of breeze. "I think you have some reason for your misgivings," I said. "If the wind freshens much I should almost recommend you to camp here all night."

We had by this time approached the fire, and I noticed, with a slight inward hesitation, that Haldane's daughter and an elderly lady were busy preparing tea. Perhaps it was this which prevented Beatrice from noticing me, but Lucille came forward and greeted us. "You have arrived at an opportune moment. Supper is just about ready, and if it is not so good as the one you gave us at Gaspard's Trail, we will try to do our best for you," she said.

"Have you not forgotten that evening yet?" I asked. A transitory expression I did not quite comprehend became visible in the girl's face when she answered my smile. It was pleasant to think she recalled the evening of which I had not forgotten the smallest incident.

"It was something so new to me, and you were all so kind," she said.

There was dismay when Caryl announced my opinion, though the rest decided to postpone a decision in the hope that the weather might improve, and it seemed useless to inform them that the reverse appeared more probable. A pine forest rolled down to the water's edge, and when the meal had been dispatched I lounged with my back against a tree, when Leyland came up. "You look uncommonly lazy – more played out than I. We want you to enjoy your stay with us, and I hope I have not tired you," he said.

I laughed a little, because Leyland was hardly likely to tire any man fresh from the arduous life of the prairie. "It's an oasis in the desert, and you have made me so comfortable that I shall almost shrink from going back," I said, truthfully enough; for, before I left, the strain at Gaspard's Trail had grown acute.

"Then what do you want to go back for, anyway?" asked Leyland, who during the afternoon had made several pertinent inquiries concerning my affairs. "There are chances for a live man in the cities – in fact I know of one or two. No doubt for a time it's experience, but it strikes me that this cattle roasting and losing of grain crops must mean a big loss of opportunities as well as grow monotonous."

Leyland, I fancied, had not previously noticed that Miss Haldane was seated on a fallen log close beside us, and in the circumstances I was by no means pleased when he turned to her. "Don't you think everybody should make the most of all that's in them?" he asked.

Somewhat to my surprise the girl looked straight at me as she answered: "Considering the question in the abstract, I agree with you. It seems to me the duty of every man with talents to take the place he was meant for among his peers instead of frittering them away."

There was an unusual earnestness in what she said, which both surprised me and reminded me of the days in England; for Beatrice Haldane's conversation had latterly been marked by a somewhat cynical languidness. Nevertheless, the inference nettled me.

"Talent is a somewhat vague term; but suppose any unprofessional person possessed it, what career among the thick of his fellows would you recommend – the acquisition of money on the markets, or politics? Both are closed to the poor man," I said.

It may have been fancy, but a faint angry sparkle seemed to creep into Miss Haldane's eyes as she answered: "Are there no others? It seems to me the place for such a person is where civilization moves fastest in the cities. Whether we progress towards good or evil you cannot move back the times, and it is force of intellect, or successful scheming if you will, which commands the best the world can offer now. As an outside observer, it seems to me that, considering the tendency towards centralization and combinations of capital, the individual who, refusing to accept the altered conditions, insists on remaining an independent unit, must soon go under or take a helot's place. Don't you think so, Mr. Leyland?"

"That's what I mean, but you have put it more clearly," said Leyland approvingly. "I was hoping Ormesby might see it that way."

Understanding my host's manner I guessed that if I hinted at acquiescence this would lead up to a definite offer, and it appeared that both, in their own way, were bent on persuading me. The temptation was alluring, when disaster appeared imminent, and I afterwards wondered how it was I did not yield. Wounded pride or sheer obstinacy may, however, have restrained me, for one of the most bitter things is to own one's self beaten; but even then I felt that my place was on the prairie. On the one hand there was only the prospect of grinding care and often brutal labor, which wore the body to exhaustion and blunted the mental faculties; on the other, at least some rest and leisure, contact with culture and refinement, and perhaps even yet a vague possibility of drawing nearer to the woman beside me. At that moment, however, Lucille Haldane halted in front of us, and the trifling incident helped to turn the scale. Young as she was, her views were mine, and for some unfathomable reason I shook off what seemed a weak tendency to yield when I met her gaze.

"It will be a bad day for the Dominion when what is happening across the frontier becomes general here," I said. "It is the number of independent units which makes for the real prosperity of this country, and the suggestion that there is only scope for intellect and force of will in the cities can hardly pass unchallenged. The smallest wheat grower has to use the same foresight in his degree as a railroad financier, and it probably requires more stamina to hold out against bad seasons and the oppression of scheming land-grabbers than is requisite, say, in engineering a grain corner against adverse markets. Then, if one gets back to principles, does it not appear that the poorest breaker of virgin land who calls wheat up out of the idle sod is of more use to the community than the gambler in his produce who creates nothing?"

"There is no use arguing with any man who thinks that way," said Leyland solemnly, and Beatrice Haldane laughed; but whether at his comment or at my opinion did not appear.

"Here is an ally for you. You are looking very wise, Lucille," she said languidly.

"I did not hear all you said, but I think Mr. Ormesby is partly right," was the frank answer. "I just stopped on my way to the boat to get some wrappings. It soon grows chilly."

The girl refused our offers of assistance. Somebody called Leyland away, and I was left alone, possibly against both our wishes, in Beatrice Haldane's company. Still, it was an opportunity that might not occur again, and I determined to turn it to good account.

"Although you expressed strong disapproval not long ago, one could have fancied you were not speaking from a wholly impersonal standpoint and meant to give me good advice," I said.

The spirit which had carried Haldane triumphantly through commercial panic was not lacking in either of his daughters, and the elder one quietly took up the challenge. "Perhaps the other could not be thrust aside, and I have wondered whether you are wise in staking all your future on the chances of success on the prairie. There are greater possibilities in the busy world that lies before you now, but presently habit and the force of associations will bind you to the soil, and you must remain a raiser of cattle and sower of grain. Is it not possible for the monotony and drudgery to drag one down to a steadily sinking level?"

The words stung me. I had done my best in my vocation, and it seemed had failed therein. Neither was it impossible that the last sentence possessed a definite meaning, and suppressed longing and resentment against the pressure of circumstances held me silent after I had managed to check the rash answer that rose to my lips. Then a shout broke through the pause which followed, and Beatrice Haldane sprang to her feet. "Lucille has set the boat adrift! Go and help her if you can!" she said.

A glance showed me the catboat sliding out towards open water before the angry white ripples that crisped the little bay, for here the wind, deflected by a hollow, blew freshly off-shore. A slight white-clad figure stood on the fore deck, and I shouted: "Jump down and fling the anchor over!"

"There is no anchor!" the answer reached me faintly; and I set off across a strip of shingle and boulders at a floundering run.

The rest of the company were gathered in dismay upon a rocky ledge when I came up, and Caryl tore off his jacket. Leyland turned to me, with consternation in his face, as he said: "Ted must have tied some fool knot and she's blowing right out across the lake. None of us can swim."

"It's my fault, and I'm going to try, anyway. The water cannot be deep inside here," gasped the valiant Caryl.

I saw that, for inland waters, a tolerable sea was running where the true wind blew straight down the lake, sufficient to endanger the catboat if she drifted without control athwart it. There was evidently no time to lose, and I turned angrily upon Caryl. "If you jump in here you will certainly drown, and that will help nobody," I said.

Then, seeing some feet of water below the ledge, I launched myself out headforemost. The ripples ran white behind me when I rose, and there was no great difficulty in swimming down-wind, even when cumbered by clothing; but the boat's side and mast exposed considerable surface to the blast, and she had blown some distance to leeward before I overtook her. It also cost me time and labor to crawl on board – an operation difficult in deep water – but it was accomplished, and, turning to the girl, I said cheerfully: "You need not be frightened. We shall beat back in a few minutes if you will help me."

Lucille Haldane showed the courage she had showed one snowy night at Bonaventure, for there was confidence in her face as she answered: "I will do whatever you tell me, and I'm not in the least afraid."

CHAPTER XI
IN PERIL OF THE WATERS

Again I hazarded a glance about me. The shallow-draughted craft had already drifted a distance off-shore, and was listing over under the pressure of the wind upon her lofty mast. The white ripples had grown to short angry surges, and because darkness was approaching and the narrow bay difficult to work into, it was evident we must lose no time in getting back again. There was no anchor on board, and if I reefed the sail (or rolled up the foot of it to reduce the area) the boat would meanwhile increase her distance from the beach. It therefore seemed necessary to attempt to thrash back under the whole mainsail.

"Will you shove the centerboard down by the iron handle, and then take hold of the tiller, Miss Haldane?" I said.

The girl, stooping, thrust at the handle projecting from the trunk containing the drawn-up center keel. The iron plate should have dropped at a touch, but did not, and I sprang to her side when she said: "Something must be holding it fast."

She was right. Caryl had either bent the plate by striking a rock or a piece of driftwood had jammed into the opening, for, do what I would, the iron refused to fall more than a third of its proper distance, and it was with a slight shock of dismay I relinquished the struggle. A sailing craft of any description will only work to windward in zigzags diagonally to the breeze, and then only provided there is enough of her under water to provide lateral resistance, which the deep center keel should have supplied. As it was, I must attempt to remedy the deficiency by press of canvas at the risk of a capsize.

Fortunately my companion was quick-witted and cool, and, standing at the helm, followed my instructions promptly, while I dragged at the halliards, and the loose folds of sailcloth rose thrashing overhead. I was breathless when the sail was set, but sprang aft to the helm, lifted the girl to the weather deck, and perched myself as high on that side as I could, with the mainsheet round my left wrist and my right hand on the tiller, wondering if the mast would bear the strain. The boat swayed down until her leeward deck was buried in a rush of foam and her bending mast slanted half way to the horizontal. Little clouds of spray shot up from her weather bow as, gathering way, she swept ahead, and then they gave place to sheets of water, which lashed our faces, and, sluicing deep along the decks, poured over the coaming ledge into the open well. Still, we were in comparatively smooth water where one could risk a little, and while the straining mainsheet, which I dare not make fast, sawed into my wrist, I glanced at my companion. Her hat was sodden – already her hair clung in soaked clusters to her forehead, and her wet face showed white against the dark water which raced past us. Yet it was still confident, and her voice was level as she said: "Let me help you. That rope is cutting your wrist."

I could have smiled at the thought of those slender fingers sharing that strain; but thinking it would be well to keep her attention occupied, nodded, and was a trifle surprised at the relief when the girl seized the hard wet hemp. "If I say – let go – lift your hands at once," I said.

We were now tearing through the water at such pace that the boat flung a good deal of what she displaced all over her, but a glance at the dark pines ashore showed that she was making very little to windward, while, when I looked over my shoulder at the boiling wake astern, it was too plainly evident that, owing to the loss of the centerboard, we were driving bodily sideways as well as ahead. Also the snowy froth which lapped higher up the lee deck was perilously near the coaming protecting the open well. Still, our expectant friends stood clustered among the boulders fringing one horn of the bay, and I saw that Caryl held a rope in his hand. We might just pass within reach of it on the next tack.

"We must come round. Slip down, and climb up on the opposite side as the sail swings over," I said, carefully shoving the tiller down.

There was a thrashing of canvas as the boat came round, and I breathed more easily as, gathering way on the opposite tack, she headed well up for the boulder point where Caryl was somewhat awkwardly swinging the coil of rope. The point drew nearer and nearer, and I could see Beatrice Haldane standing rigidly still against the somber pines, when, as ill-luck would have it, the dark branches set up a roaring as a wild gust swept down. The boat swayed further over. Most of her forward was buried in a rush of foam, and the water poured steadily into the well; but I still held fast the sheet which would have loosed the sail, for we might reach the rope in another two minutes. The gust increased in violence. Foam and water poured over the coamings in cataracts, and, seeing that otherwise a capsize was inevitable, I released the sheet. The canvas rattled furiously, the craft swayed upright and commenced to blow away sternforemost like a feather, while I dropped into the bottom of her, ankle deep in water.

"There is no help for it – we must reef. Take the tiller, and hold it – so," I said.

It was not without an effort I tied the tack, or forward corner of the mainsail, down; then, floundering aft, hauled the afterside of it down to the boom. That accomplished and the sail thus reduced by some two feet all along its foot, there remained to be tied the row of short lines, or reef points, which would hold the discarded portion when rolled up; and when part of these were knotted it was with misgivings I leaped up on the after-deck. The long, jerking boom projected a fathom beyond the stern, and I must hold on by my toes while leaning out over the water as I pulled the reef points at that end together.

"I am going to trust you with the safety of both of us, Miss Haldane," I said. "When you see the boom swing inwards pull the tiller towards you before it flings me off."

The girl had grown a little paler, and her hands trembled on the helm, but she answered without hesitation: "Don't be longer than you can help – but I understand."

She showed a fine intelligence and a perfect self-command, or our voyage might have ended abruptly; so the reefing was accomplished, and I resumed the helm. Meanwhile, however, we had drifted well out into the lake, and a few minutes of sailing proved that under her reduced canvas the boat would not beat back to the windward shore. The figures among the boulders had faded into the deepening gloom, but, assuming a cheerfulness I did not feel, I said: "It is quite impossible to return, and as it is growing too late to look for a safe landing or path through the bush, we must head for home and send back horses for the others. It will be a fair wind."

"I was afraid so," said the girl with a shiver. "But I hope we shall not be very long on the way. We spent five hours coming."

I knew we should travel at a pace approaching a steamer's, provided the craft could be kept from filling; but, enlarging upon the former point, I tried to conceal the latter possibility, as I put the helm up; and the craft, rising upright, but commencing to roll horribly, raced away down-wind towards open water. Once out of the point's shelter, short but angry waves raced white behind her, for one may find sufficient turmoil of waters when a fresh gale sweeps the Canadian lakes. The rolling grew wilder, the long boom splashed heavily into the white upheavals that surged by on each side, and our progress became a series of upward rushes and swoops, until at times I feared the craft would run her bows under and go down bodily. Once I caught my companion glancing over the stern, and, knowing how ugly oncoming waves appear when they heave up behind a running vessel, I laid a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her head aside.

"There! You must look only that way, and tell me if you see any islands across our course," I said.

It was practically dark now, but I could distinguish the whiteness of her wet face, and see her shiver violently. My jacket was spongy, I had nothing to wrap her in, but she looked so wet and pitiful that I drew her towards me and slipped a dripping arm protectingly about her. Lucille Haldane made no demur. The wild rolling, the flying spray, and the rush of short tumbling ridges must have been sufficiently terrifying, and perhaps she found the contact reassuring.

One hand was all I needed. There was now nothing any unassisted man could do except keep the craft straight before wind and sea, but it was quite sufficient for one who had lost much of his dexterity with the tiller, and at times the boat twisted on a white crest in imminent peril of rolling over. Worse than all, the waves that smote the flat stern commenced to splash on board, and the water inside the boat rose rapidly. Already the floorings were floating, and I dare not for a second loose the tiller. It was Lucille Haldane who solved the difficulty.

"Is not all that water getting dangerous?" she asked, with chattering teeth; and, knowing her keenness, I saw there was no use attempting to hide the fact.

"Why did you not tell me so earlier?" she continued. "It is only right that I should do my share, and I can at least throw some of it out."

"You are not fit for such work, and must sit still. At this pace we shall see the lights of Leyland's house soon," I said, tightening my hold on her; but the girl shook off my grasp.

"I am not so helpless that I cannot make an effort to do what is so necessary," she said. "Let me go, Mr. Ormesby, or I shall never forgive you. Where is the bailer?"

I pointed to it, and even in face of the necessity it hurt me to see her alternately kneeling in the water that surged to and fro and trying to hold herself upright while she raised and emptied the heavy bucket. Often she upset its contents over herself or me, and several times a lurch flung her cruelly against the coaming; but she persevered with undiminished courage until she stumbled in a savage roll and struck her head. Then she clung to the coaming, the water draining from her, and, not daring to move from the tiller, I could do nothing but growl anathemas upon the boat's owner, until the girl sank down in the stern sheets beside me.

"I must rest a little," she said. "But what were you saying, Mr. Ormesby?"

"Only that I should like to hang the man who invented this unhandy rig, and Caryl for tempting you on board such a craft," I answered, hoping she had not heard the whole of my remarks. "You poor child, it is shameful that you should have to do such work; and, whatever happens, you shall not try again."

Her tresses, released from whatever bound them, streamed in the wind about her, and she seemed to shrink a little from me as she struggled with them. "It is not Caryl's fault. I clumsily let the rope go when I was pulling the boat in, and as it is some little time since I was a child, I do not care to be treated as one. Have I not done my best?" she asked.

"You have done gallantly; more than many men unused to seamanship – Caryl, for instance – could. All this is due to his stupidity," I answered; and fancied there was a trace of resentment in her voice as she said: "Poor Ted! He is brave enough, at least. I know he cannot swim, and yet he was about to plunge into deep water when you stopped him."

It appeared wholly ridiculous, but, even then, Lucille Haldane's defense of Caryl irritated me. "He is responsible for all you are suffering, and I can't forgive him for it. Was that not rather the action of a lunatic?" I answered shortly.

A wave, which, breaking upon the flat stern, deluged my shoulders and drenched my companion afresh, cut short the colloquy; but I caught sight of a faint twinkle ahead, and restrained her with a wet hand when she would have resumed the bailing. It was also by gentle force, for this time she resisted, that I drew her down beside me so that I partly shielded her from the spray, and the water came in as it willed as we drove onwards through thick obscurity. Still, the light rose higher ahead, and I strained my eyes to catch the first loom of Leyland's island. Large boulders studded the approach to it, and we might come to grief if we struck one of them.

It was now blowing viciously hard, the boat, half-buried in a white smother, would scarcely steer, and the bright light from a window ahead beat into my eyes, bewildering my vision. I could, however, dimly make out pines looming behind it, and the beat of yeasty surges, which warned me it would be risky to attempt a landing on that beach. There would be shelter on the leeward side of the island, but a glance at the balloon-like curves of the lifting mainsail showed that we could not clear its end upon the course we were sailing. We must jibe, or swing the mainsail over, which might result in a capsize.