The Mistress of Bonaventure

"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.

"I want your help, Miss Haldane. Go forward and loose the rope you will find on your right-hand side near the mast," I said; and as the girl obeyed, the light shone more fully upon the dripping boat. I had a momentary vision of several dark figures on the veranda, and then, while I held my breath, saw only the slight form of the girl, with draggled dress and wet hair streaming, swung out above the whiteness of rushing foam as she wrenched at the halliard, which had fouled. Then the head of the sail swung down, and as she came back panting, the steering demanded all my attention.

"Hold fast to the coaming here," I said, as, dragging with might and main at the sheet, I put the tiller up.

The craft twisted upon her heel, the sail swung aloft, and then, while the sheet rasped through my fingers, chafing the skin from them, there was a heavy crash as the boom lurched over. The boat swayed wildly under its impetus, buried one side deep, and a shout, which might have been a cry of consternation, reached me faintly. Then she shook herself free, and reeled away into the blackness on a different course.

The head of the island swept by, and we shot into smoother water with a spit of shingle ahead, on which I ran the craft ashore, and it was with sincere relief I felt the shock of her keel upon the bottom. Lucille Haldane said something I did not hear while she lay limp and wet and silent in my arms, as, floundering nearly waist-deep, I carried her ashore and then towards a path which led to the house. The night was black, the way uneven, but perhaps because I was partly dazed I did not set down my burden. She had helped me bravely, and it was only now, when the peril had passed, I knew how very fearful I had been for her safety. Indeed, it was hard to realize she was yet free from danger, and in obedience to some unreasoning instinct I still held her fast, until she slipped from my grasp. A few minutes later a light twinkled among the trees, voices reached us, and Haldane, followed by several others, came up with a lantern.