Blake's Burden Part 39

"Now," said Harding curtly, "I'm going to give you my opinion. I take it that your uncle is a man who tries to do the square thing?"

Blake's face relaxed and his eyes twinkled. "He's what you call white and as obstinate as they're made. Convince him that a thing's right and he'll see it done, no matter how many people it makes uncomfortable. That's why I don't see my way to encourage him."

"Here's a man who's up against a point of honour; he has, I understand, a long, clean record and now he's prepared to take a course that may cost him dear. Are you going to play a low-down game on him; to twist the truth so's to give him a chance of deceiving himself?"

"Aren't you and Benson taking what you mean by the truth too much for granted?"

Harding gave him a searching look. "I haven't heard you deny it squarely; you're a poor liar. It's your clear duty to go back to England right away and see your uncle through with the thing he means to do."

"After all, I'll go to England," Blake answered with significant reserve. "However, we had better get on or we won't catch the others until they've finished dinner."

Emile started the dogs, and when they had toiled up the ascent they saw the rest of the party far ahead on the great white plain.

"We mayn't have another chance of a private talk until we reach the settlement," said Blake. "What are you going to do about the petroleum?"

"I'll come back and prospect the muskeg as soon as the frost goes."

"It will cost a good deal to do that thoroughly. We must hire transport for a full supply of all the tools and stores we are likely to need; one experience of the kind we've had this trip is enough. How are you going to get the money?"

"I'm not going to the city men for it until our position's secure. The thing must be kept quiet until we're ready to put it on the market."

"You were doubtful about taking me for a partner once," Benson interposed. "I don't know that I could blame you, but now I mean to do all I can to make the scheme successful, and I don't think you'll have as much reason for being afraid that I might fail you."

"Call it a deal," said Harding. "You're the man we want."

"Well," said Blake, "I ought to be out again before you start, and if I can raise any money in England, I'll send it over. You're satisfied that this is a project I can recommend to my friends?"

"I believe it's such a chance as few people ever get," Harding answered in a tone of firm conviction.

"Then we'll see what can be done. It won't be your fault if the venture fails."

Harding smiled. "There's hard work and perhaps some trouble ahead, but you won't regret you faced it. You'll be a rich man in another year or two."

Then Emile urged the dogs, and they set off after the others as fast as they could go. Sweet.w.a.ter was safely reached, but on the morning after his arrival there Blake pushed on south for the railroad with the police and a week later caught a steamer in Montreal. On landing, he took the first train to Shrops.h.i.+re, but before going on to Sandymere called at Hazlehurst, where he had learned that Mrs. Keith was staying.

As it happened, Mrs. Keith was out with Mrs. Foster, and Millicent was the first to welcome him. She started when he was shown into the hall, and, dropping the book she was reading, rose with a tingle of heightened colour, while he felt his heart beat fast. It was a clear winter afternoon and the suns.h.i.+ne that entered a window fell upon the girl. Blake thought she looked very beautiful, and, thrown off her guard as she had been, he caught the gladness in her eyes before she could hide it.

"I expect you are surprised at my turning up," he remarked.

"Yes," she said with a shyness she could not overcome. "Indeed I was startled when you came in, but of course it's pleasant to see you safely back. I knew Colonel Challoner had given orders for you to be traced if possible, and that you had been found, but that was all Mrs.

Keith told me. I suppose she didn't know--didn't think, I mean--that I was interested."

"I'd like to believe that was foolish of her," Blake answered with a twinkle.

Millicent laughed; though she felt that his rejoinder did not adequately express his feelings, his humorous manner set her at ease.

"It really was foolish," she said, smiling. "But you must have some tea and wait until she comes. I don't think she will be long."

The tea was brought, and she studied him un.o.btrusively as he sat opposite her at the small table. He had grown thin, his bronzed face was worn, and he looked graver than he had done. Though she could not imagine his ever becoming very solemn, it was obvious that something had happened in Canada which had had its effect on him. Looking up suddenly from his plate, he surprised her attentive glance.

"You have changed," she said.

"That's not astonis.h.i.+ng," Blake replied. "We didn't get much to eat in the wilds, and I was thinking how pleasant it is to be back again." He examined his prettily decorated cup. "It's remarkable how many things one can do without. In the bush, we drank our tea, when we had any, out of a blackened can and the rest of our table equipment was to match. But we'll take it that the change in me is an improvement?"

It was an excuse for looking at her, as if demanding a reply, but she answered readily: "In a sense, it is."

"Then I feel encouraged to continue starving myself."

"There's a limit; extremes are to be avoided," Millicent rejoined.

"But did you starve yourselves in Canada?"

"I must confess that the thing wasn't altogether voluntary. I'm afraid we were rather gluttonous when we got the chance."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No," said Blake, who saw that she was interested. "I think it was a serious disappointment for Harding, and I was very sorry for him at first."

"So am I," said Millicent. "It must have been very hard, after leaving his wife alone and badly provided for and risking everything on his success. But why did you say you _were_ sorry for him? Aren't you sorry now?"

"Though we didn't find what we were looking for, we found something else which Harding seems firmly convinced is quite as valuable. Of course, he's a bit of an optimist, but it looks as if he were right this time. Anyway, I'm plunging on his scheme."

"You mean you will stake all you have on it?"

"That's it," Blake agreed with a humorous twinkle. "It's true that what I have doesn't amount to much, but I'm throwing in what I would like to get, and that's a great deal."

There was something of a hint in his manner and she noticed his expression suddenly grow serious. It seemed advisable to choose another topic and she said: "You must have had adventures. Tell me about them."

"Oh!" he protested, "they're really not interesting."

"Let me judge. Is it nothing to have gone where other men seldom venture?"

He began rather awkwardly, but she prompted him with tactful questions, and he saw that she wished to hear his story. By degrees he lost himself in his subject and, being gifted with keen imagination, she followed his journey into the wilds. It was not his wish to represent himself as a hero, and now and then he spoke with deprecatory humour, but he betrayed something of his character in doing justice to his theme. Millicent's eyes sparkled as she listened, for she found the story moving; he was the man she had thought him, capable of grim endurance, determined action, and steadfast loyalty.

"So you carried your crippled comrade when you were exhausted and starving," she said when he came to their search for the factory. "One likes to hear of such things as that! But what would you have done if you hadn't found the post?"

"I can't answer," he said soberly. "We durst not think of it; a starving man's will gets weak." Then his expression grew whimsical.

"Besides, if one must be accurate, we dragged him."

"Still," said Millicent softly, "I can't think you would have left him."

He looked at her with some embarra.s.sment and then smiled. "I'm flattered, Miss Graham, but you really haven't very strong grounds for your confidence in me."

Supposing he was thinking of his disgrace, she made a gesture of half scornful impatience.

"Well," she said, "please go on with the tale."

The rest of it had its interest, though he made no reference to Clarke's treachery, and Millicent listened with close attention. It was growing dark, but they had forgotten to ring for lights; neither of them heard the door open when he was near the conclusion, and Mrs.

Keith, entering quietly with Mrs. Foster, stopped a moment in surprise.

The room was shadowy, but she could see the man leaning forward with an arm upon the table and the girl's intent face. There was something that pleased her in the scene. Then as she moved forward Millicent looked up quickly and Blake rose.