The Mistress of Bonaventure

The girl looked away from me across the grain, and, as she turned her head, it was with a thrill of pleasure, which may not have been wholly artistic, that I noticed the polished whiteness of her neck and a dainty, pink-tinted little ear that peeped out from the clusters of her hair. Then she laughed, perhaps at Thorn, who argued quaintly, if forcibly, with his reluctant beasts, and turned to me.

"If you desire another motive, you may conclude, as you heard before, that it was love of justice; which really ought to satisfy you."

"It is a creditable one," I answered. "But I fear that it does not."

We left Crane Valley shortly, Haldane on horseback, his daughter – because something had gone wrong with the Bonaventure vehicle – beside me in our light wagon, which, if it in no way resembled the cumbrous contrivance bearing that name in England, was, I was uneasily conscious, by no means overclean. On the way we met the threshers, and stronger teams hauling the machines towards Crane Valley, for our threshing is done mostly in the field. We stopped to bid them hurry, and Haldane, learning they had met Gordon, whom he desired to see, bade us proceed while he looked for the rancher. I was not sorry to do so, and accordingly it was without him that we approached the dip to the Sweetwater hollow.

The afternoon was waning, and the air very still. The tiny birch leaves had ceased their whispering; but the sound of running water came musically out of their cool shadow. All the winding valley was rolled in green, an oasis of verdure in the sweep of white-bleached prairie; and, pulling the team up between the first of the slender trunks, I pointed down towards the half-seen lane of sliding water.

"I might never have known you if it had not been for a trifling accident by yonder willow clump," I said. "I remember your sister suggested that very night that our meeting might be the first scene of a drama, and, considering all that has happened since then, her prediction has proved strangely accurate."

Lucille Haldane nodded. "It is a coincidence that I was thinking of the same thing, and wondering, now that the play must be drawing towards its close, what the end will be. The meeting must, however, have been unlucky for you, because all your troubles date from that beginning."

"And my privileges," I answered, smiling. "The present is at least a happy augury. When I met Boone beside the river there was not a leaf on the birches, and their branches were moaning under a blast which makes one shiver from mere recollection. Remember the harvest at Crane Valley, and look down on yonder shining water and cool greenery. It was you who brought us the sunshine, and even the memory of the dark days is now melting like that night's snow."

"That is exaggerated sentiment, and I have heard invertebrate youths in the cities say such things more neatly," commented the girl, with an air of mock severity, and then glanced dreamily into the hollow; while, as silence succeeded, fate sent a little sting-fly to take a part – as, to confound man's contriving, trifles often do – in ending the play. The team were ill-broken broncos which had already given me trouble, and when the fly bored with envenomed proboscis through the hide of one, the beast flung up his head and kicked savagely.

The reins which I held loosely were whisked away, and before it was possible to recover them both horses had bolted. The light wagon lurched giddily, and the next moment it swept like a toboggan down the declivity.

"Hold fast!" I shouted, leaning recklessly down; and the first shock of enervating consternation vanished when I gripped the reins. Still, there was cold fear at my heart when, bracing both feet against the wagon-front, I strove uselessly to master the team. The brutes' mouths seemed made of iron, impervious to the bit; the slope was long and steep; birches and willows straggled athwart it everywhere; and the soil was treacherous. I could not break them from the gallop, and not daring to risk the sharp bends of the zigzag trail, I let them go straight for the slide of water in the bottom of the hollow.

It was not the first time I had been run away with. A fall from a stumbling horse or a wagon upset is a very common and, considering the half-tamed beasts we use, by no means surprising accident in our country; but at first it was only by a fierce effort I shook off an almost overmastering terror as I contemplated the danger to my companion. I hazarded one glance at her and saw that her face was white and set, then dare look at nothing but the reeling trees ahead. I strained every sinew to swing the team clear of them. Sometimes the beasts responded, sometimes they did not, and it was by a miracle the trunks went by. The wagon bounced more wildly, the slope grew steeper, and even if I could have checked the team this would only have precipitated a catastrophe. So, helpless, I clung to the reins until the end came suddenly.

Several birches barred our way; the brutes would swerve neither to right nor to left; and with a hoarse shout of warning I strove desperately to hold them straight for the one passage, wondering whether there was room enough in the narrow gap between the trunks. It was immediately evident that there was not. Simultaneously with a heavy shock, the wagon appeared to dissolve beneath me and I was hurled bodily into the air. Fortunately I alighted upon soft ground, headforemost, and perhaps, for that reason, escaped serious injury. It is possible that, in different circumstances, I might have lain still partly stupefied, or spent some time in ascertaining whether any bones had broken; but, as it was, I sprang to the overturned wagon, breathless with fear.

Lucille Haldane lay, mercifully, just clear of it, a pitiful white figure, and my heart stood still as I bent over her. She was pale and limp as a crushed lily, and as beautiful; and it was with awe I dropped on one knee beside her. There was no sign of any breathing, coldness seemed to emanate from her waxlike skin, and though I had seen many accidents, I dare scarcely venture to lay a finger on the slackly throbbing artery in her wrist. Then I groaned aloud, borne down with an overwhelming grief, for with the suddenness of a lightning flash I knew the words spoken but such a little while ago had been more than true. It was she who had brought all the sunshine and sweetness into my life. Reason and power of action returned with the knowledge, and I started for the river at a breathless run, smashing savagely through every cluster of dwarf willows which barred my way, filled my hat with the cold water, and, returning, dashed it on her face. The action appeared brutal, but terror was stronger than any sentimental fancies then, and I dare neglect no chance with that precious life at stake.

The slender form moved a little, and it was with relief unspeakable I heard a fluttering sigh; then I raised the wet head upon my knee, and fell to chafing the cold hands vigorously. The time may have been five minutes, or less, but I had never spent such long days in my life as those seconds while I waited, quivering in every limb, for some further sign of returning animation. It was very still in the hollow, and the song of the hurrying water maddened me. Its monotonous cadence might drown the faint breathing for which I listened with such intensity. Even in that space of agony two other incidents flashed through my memory, and I understood my fear during the dark voyage, and on the moonlit night when the cars lurched across the bridge. Life would be very empty if the breath died out of that tender, shaken body.

The suspense was mercifully ended. Lucille Haldane half opened her eyes, and looked up at me without recognition, closed them, and caught at her breath audibly, while I held her hands fast in a restraining grasp. Then, as she looked up again, the blood came back, mantling the clear skin, and she said, brokenly: "I fell out of the wagon, did I not? How long have I been here? – and my head is wet. I – I must get up."

I still held one hand fast; but, stooping, slipped one arm beneath her shoulder and raised her a little. "You must wait another few moments first."

The girl appeared reluctant, but made no resistance, and when finally I raised her to her feet I found it was necessary to lean against a birch trunk to hide the fit of trembling that seized me.

"I am not much hurt," she said; and my voice broke as I interjected: "Thank God for it!"

I fancied that Lucille Haldane, shaken as she was, flashed a swift sidelong glance at me, and that the returning color did not diminish in her cheek; then she said hurriedly: "Yes, I am not hurt, but I see the horses yonder, and you had better make sure of them. We are still some distance from home."

I turned without further speech, and found the vicious brutes, which had broken the wagon-pole, held fast by the tangled gear which had fouled a fallen tree. It was almost with satisfaction I saw the bolter had lamed himself badly. There was a change in Lucille Haldane when I led them back. She had recovered her faculties, but not her old frank friendliness, and said, almost sharply: "The wagon is useless. What do you propose to do?"

"To fold up the rug in the box and make some kind of saddle for you," I said, and proceeded to do so, cutting up the gear, which was almost new, so recklessly that my companion seemed even then surprised.

"Do you know that you are destroying a good many dollars' worth of harness?" she asked.

"It would not greatly matter if I spoiled a dozen sets so long as you reached home safely, and it is a very small fine for my carelessness," I answered. "I should never have forgiven myself if you had been injured; but are you – quite – sure that you are none the worse?"

"I do not think I am much the better," said the girl. "Still, I am not badly hurt, and it was not your fault."

Though still languid in her movements, she seemed chary of accepting much assistance when I helped her into the improvised saddle, and then, because the other horse was useless, I waded through the ford with my hand on the bridle. It was some distance to Bonaventure, and my companion was not communicative, but I did not find the silence irksome. Conflicting emotions would have made me slow of speech, and I was content with the fact that she rode beside me whole in limb and unspoiled in beauty. Indeed, so much had the sight of her lying white and apparently lifeless impressed me that I cast many apprehensive glances in her direction before I could convince myself that all was well.

Haldane, who overtook us, desired me to remain at Bonaventure; but every pair of hands was needed at Crane Valley, and I wished for solitude. So, stiffly mounting a borrowed horse, I set off homeward across the prairie. I had risen at three that morning, after an insufficient rest, and was worn out in body, but clear in mind, for a time, at least, while the brilliancy of the starshine and the silence of the waste helped me to think. I was by turns thankful, ashamed, dejected, and eager to clutch at an elusive hope. Illumination had followed disillusion, and I knew at last that even while I was uplifted by vain imaginings, Lucille Haldane had, little by little, and unwittingly, extended her dominion over my heart. I had, it seemed, spent the best years of my life striving after an unattainable and shadowy ideal, while perhaps the real living substance, endowed with the best of all pertaining to flesh and blood, lay within my grasp. It was true that the mistress of Bonaventure was much too good for me; but with all her graces she was of like fiber to us, and her few weaknesses rendered her more desirable in proof of the fact. That Beatrice Haldane was worthy of all adulation remained equally true; but it was hard to comprehend how, blinded by folly, I had mistaken the respect I paid her for the warm tide of passion which now pulsed through me. Neither was the latter of sudden origin, for, looking back, I could see how, little by little, and imperceptibly, admiration, gratitude, and tenderness, had merged into it until terror opened my eyes and full understanding came at last.

There remained, however, one burning question – did Lucille Haldane, in any degree, reciprocate what I felt? – and this lacked an answer. Knowing her generous nature, it was clear that what she had done for me had not been done wittingly for a lover; but, on the other hand, I could recall many trifles which may have had their significance. Thus alternate hopes and fears surged through my brain until, when I had decided that, being yet a poor man, I must wait the advent of the railroad, at least, before putting my fate to the test, my thoughts commenced to wander, and I must have guided the horse mechanically, for his sudden stopping roused me with a jerk to recognize the corral at Crane Valley. There is a limit beyond which no emotion may galvanize into continued activity the exhausted body, and we not infrequently reach it on the prairie. I do not know whether I was asleep or awake when I led the beast into the stable, but the sun was high when Sally Steel roused me from a couch of trampled hay unpleasantly near his feet.

"You have had a tolerable sleep, and don't seem particular where you camp," she said. "Come right along, and do your best with the second breakfast I've got waiting."

I glanced with consternation at my watch. "Why didn't one of the others waken me? Do you know it's ten o'clock, Sally?" I asked.

"Just because I wouldn't let them! You've got to last through harvest, anyway, and I guess Miss Haldane wouldn't have much use for a dead man," said Sally, and was retiring with mischievous laughter, when I recalled her.

"You have been too good a friend to me to make such jokes again," I said.

"I'm not the only one. All the folks are talking," said the girl.

Thereupon I answered grimly: "If I hear any of them amusing themselves in that fashion I shall do my best to choke them."

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE ENEMY CAPITULATES

Some time had elapsed since the overturning of the wagon, and I had seen nothing of Lucille Haldane, when, one evening, I visited Bonaventure at her father's request. All had gone well in the interval. The last bushel of grain had been threshed and sold, and the balance of my debt to Lane, with every surcharge his ingenuity could invent, wiped out. Haldane, who remained some time in Winnipeg with Boone, had also concluded operations successfully, for, as he had foreseen, once the turning point was passed he had no lack of allies eager to assist in plundering the vanquished, and, before these had satisfied their rapacity he had been able to unobtrusively cover most of our sales without advancing prices. Boone explained that the new assailants considered the purchases a last effort on the part of the company's supporters. Also – because there is little mercy for the beaten – impoverished storekeeper and plundered farmer commenced to air their grievances, and it became evident that the company, or those whom it financed, had occasionally exceeded the limits of the law.

It was accordingly to a meeting of what Haldane called the Vehmgericht that I was summoned, and on arriving at Bonaventure I found Gordon and several of our neighbors already there. The day had been sunny, but our autumn nights are sharp, with a sting of frost in the air, which made the crackling fire in the open hearth acceptable. A shaded silver lamp flung a soft light about the room, which in no way suggested that it was to be used for a tribunal. There were decanters, cigar boxes, and British Columbian fruit on the table, while Haldane lounged in a velvet chair, with feet, neatly encased in patent leather, stretched out towards the fire. All this seemed inappropriate to the occasion, even though I had grown used to Haldane's way.

A glance at the others, however, showed that they were in deadly earnest. The men were lean and hard and grim, and their weather-darkened faces bore the stamp of the conflict. Some of them had long overworked brain and body, half-fed, that Lane and those who backed him might reap an iniquitous profit. Others had seen wife and daughter toiling in the dust of the harrows or riding weary leagues behind the herds, and had not forgotten. I noticed they accepted Haldane's offers of wine and tobacco dubiously, and I surmised it was only personal respect for him that prevented disapproving comments on this manner of procedure.

Boone doubtless guessed their thoughts, for he said whimsically: "I see no reason why you shouldn't have a good time, boys. There are easier ways of killing a coyote than beating his head in with the butt of a gun, and I can assure you that we mean solid business. For one, I find these cigars better than the tin flag plug."

"Tin flag!" and a man with wrinkles round his eyes laughed harshly. "Dried willow bark had to do for us. This kind of thing takes time to get used to after living for 'most two years on damaged flour and molasses. Maybe you're used to luxuries, and don't know what it is to see the wife fall sick when one couldn't raise a decent morsel to feed her."

Boone's face grew as stern as that of the speaker, and the shadow I knew crept into his eyes. "I think I do. My wife died for want of comforts that Lane might twice collect his debt, and I am not likely to forget it to-night," he said.

A silence followed, and through it I heard one or two of the others draw a deep breath, while their faces hardened as they, too, remembered grievous injuries. For my own part I was grimly expectant, for I had suffered long enough, and had sufficient sense to know that it was not often that struggling men had such an opportunity for dictating terms to a powerful adversary. We were all, I think, democratic in the word's most liberal sense, cherishing no grievance against the rich, and quick to recognize advantages offered us by capitalists' legitimate enterprise; but, now that the balance had swung to our side, we were equally determined to place further mischief beyond the power of the man who, for the sake of a few dollars, would have crushed us out of existence. It appeared a duty to the community; but I had not studied human nature sufficiently to discover exactly how far that motive influenced me.

"If none of you have any further suggestions to make, I want to ask if you are willing to leave this affair to me," said Haldane presently. "Lane in his own way is a smart man, and would be quick to seize an advantage which anybody, speaking without consideration, might give him. I offer my services merely because, during an extensive business experience, I have had to deal with such men before."

"There is nobody in the Dominion better able to handle this case for us," said Boone; and the others nodded assent.

"We'll sit quieter than graven images unless he turns vicious, if you'll draw his sting," said one. "That's no use, anyway," a comrade interjected. "The insect would grow another one. What we want is his blame back broken."

"I will, metaphorically speaking, try to oblige you both," said Haldane, with a smile. "He is a little weak in the spine already, or he would have declined to meet us at all."

Nobody made any further comment, but the eyes of most of us were turned expectantly upon the clock, until at last Gordon stood up when a rattle of wheels drew nearer. "This is going to be a great night, boys," he said. "The pernicious insect's come."

Lane entered, and nodded to us all comprehensively when he saw that Haldane did not hold out his hand. The man's assurance was apparently boundless, for he was at first sight as débonnaire and almost as genial as ever – almost, but not quite, for when he moved nearer the lamp I noticed a shiftiness in his eyes and an occasional contraction at the corners of his mouth.

"This is a little business meeting, and we appreciate your attendance; but the former is no reason why you should not be comfortable," said Haldane. "Sit down and help yourself to anything you take a fancy to. I need not introduce any of these gentlemen."