Under Sealed Orders Part 24

"Yes. I made out a cheque the night I took ill, but she never got it.

This new one is larger and will somewhat pay her for the trouble we have been to her as well as for the logs."

"I mailed it to-day, father, and Mrs. Bean should get it to-morrow."

"That is good. I feel more contented now. But, see here, Lois, you will be very lonely now with only me to talk to. Isn't there any one who could come and visit us for a while? It might brighten us both up."

"I expect Margaret," Lois replied. "She said she would be delighted to come as soon as we moved into our own house. d.i.c.k, you know, will bring her in the car just as soon as the roads are settled. It will be so nice to have her."

"Do you think Mr. Randall will forsake us now?" Mr. Sinclair asked.

"Why, what makes you think that he will?" Lois replied.

"I was afraid he might, that's all. I like that young man. But he has peculiar ideas, and will not go where he thinks he is not wanted."

Lois did not reply to these words. She was sitting by her father's side sewing, and she went on calmly with her work. But she was thinking of the great change that had come over her father since his illness. He was so gentle and considerate, and was more companionable than she had ever known him to be. It caused her great joy of heart, and she was so thankful now that she had not left him when he had made life so miserable for her. She was thankful as well that he liked Jasper and welcomed his visits to the house. She, too, had wondered if he would come as often as he did to Mrs. Bean's. When Margaret arrived he might think that he was not needed and would stay away.

Jasper, however, did not stay away. He came as often as before, even after Margaret arrived. He now believed that Lois cared for him and looked forward with pleasure to his visits. Never before had the Sundays seemed so far apart. She was his inspiration in all that he did and she was ever in his mind throughout the week. How delightful it was to listen to her playing upon the piano, and then when she and Margaret sang, as they did so well together, it seemed to him as if heaven had opened and poured upon him its greatest joys. His past trials were all forgotten, and he did not worry about the future.

One balmy spring Sunday evening they were all gathered around the piano as usual singing several of their favourite hymns. Lois was playing, and the soft light from the shaded lamp fell upon her face. Jasper standing near thought he had never seen her look so beautiful. It seemed to him that her face was almost radiant and her eyes glowed with an intense light of holy fervour. Everything in that room spoke of peace and harmony. The singers were happy in one another's company, and no worry troubled them.

As they sang, the shades of night deepened over the land and brighter the light seemed to s.h.i.+ne through the large window facing westward. A man standing just outside watched all that was going on within the room. He had approached cautiously and now stood back far enough from the window that he might not be observed should any one happen to look in his direction. To all outward appearance he might have been drawn there out of mere curiosity or by the sound of the music. His lean, smooth-shaven face betrayed nothing, and his steel-grey eyes which rested alternately upon Jasper and the fair young player were expressionless. Well it was for Lois' peace of mind that she did not see that face out there in the night, for it was the same face which had been haunting her for months.

CHAPTER XX

BUSINESS DETAILS

As spring drew near David became anxious for more definite news about the work at the falls. He knew what Jasper and his men were doing and how the portable mill was busy sawing the logs which had been hauled out. But he was impatient to see what he called "the real beginning."

It was, therefore, with considerable satisfaction when at last the great start was made. As the weeks pa.s.sed word reached him of what was going on. He had not yet visited the falls as he did not feel equal to the walk. But he listened eagerly to all that was told him. The reports were truly marvellous of the large number of men engaged upon the "Plant," of the activity at Creekdale and all up the brook. In a few weeks the whole place had been converted into a hive of bustling industry. It seemed as if a magic wand had been suddenly waved over the place to produce such an astonis.h.i.+ng change.

In addition to this there were men working between the city and Creekdale as well as along the road leading up-river, putting large poles in place for the electric wires. These poles had been run down the brook and then floated to various places along the river. In this way the work was facilitated. Everything had been well planned, and it seemed as if nothing had been overlooked. Though David could not visit the falls, yet he and Betty often sat by the road and watched the workmen as they dug the deep holes, erected the poles and strung the wires.

One beautiful morning as they came to the road, they saw a man not far off busily sketching a clump of white birch trees a short distance away. So intent was he upon his work that he did not appear to notice the two who were watching him with undisguised curiosity.

"Who is he?" David whispered, fearful lest he should disturb the man.

"He must be that artist who came yesterday," Betty replied. "He has a little tent over there," and she pointed to the right. "I saw him fixing it up yesterday and it looks so cosy. He spoke to me as I came by and seemed to be very friendly."

"And you say that he is an artist?" David enquired.

"Yes. Don't you see him painting now? He told me that he wants to get some pictures of this beautiful place."

"He must see the falls, girl," and David rose from his sitting position. "There is nothing here to equal it, and how nice it would be to have a picture before too great a change takes place up there."

"Suppose we tell him about it," Betty suggested, now much interested in the idea. "Come, I will introduce you."

As the two approached, the artist rose to his feet and lifted his hat.

"Why, it's my little visitor of yesterday," he pleasantly remarked. "I didn't expect to meet you so soon again. Is this your grandfather?"

"Oh, no," and Betty laughed heartily. "This is Mr. David, and I am looking after him."

"I am glad to meet you, sir," and the stranger held out his hand. "I have only arrived lately and of course do not know any of the people here, so you will pardon my mistake."

"It doesn't matter, I a.s.sure you," David replied. "Betty is really a daughter to me, so it was no mistake after all. But I hope we have not interrupted you."

"Not at all. I am not doing much this morning, just getting my bearings, as it were. But you have a wonderful view from this hill. I am hoping to get some excellent pictures. I wish I had known of this beautiful spot before."

"Wait until you see the falls," David eagerly replied. "You will find something worth while there."

"Is it far from here?" the artist enquired.

"Oh, no. You can easily find it. There is a good road there now which has been made by the new company."

"Is that the place where the light and power are to come from, of which I have heard so much?"

"So you have heard of it then? I am very glad." There was a pleased expression in David's eyes. It gave him much satisfaction to know that the news of what was being done at the falls had extended beyond Creekdale.

"Oh, yes, every one has heard about the great undertaking which is going on at Break Neck Falls," the artist replied. "I have read much about it in the city papers, and only recently there was a long article describing certain phases of the work and what would be accomplished.

I have the paper with me. Here it is, if you care to read it," and the artist drew from his pocket a carefully-folded newspaper, and handed it to the old man.

With much eagerness David took it in his hands, unfolded it and ran his eyes quickly over the article with the big headlines, "A Gigantic Undertaking." Betty stepped close to his side and began to read as well. Her animated face and sparkling eyes showed plainly the keen interest she took in the whole affair, and several times she gave expression to exclamations of delight.

"Isn't it great!" she cried, when she had finished. "And what a lot they tell about you, Mr. David, and how you had that thing in your head for so long when you were very poor."

"Yes, girl," David replied, "and did you notice what is said about the benefit it will be to the city and the whole country?"

In their intense excitement they had forgotten all about the artist.

But as they talked like two happy children he was watching them very closely, especially the old man. In his eyes there was a peculiar half-gloating expression, while a partly-suppressed sinister smile lurked about the corners of his mouth.

"May we show this paper to Miss Lois?" Betty asked, turning suddenly toward the artist. As she did so, she started, for intuitively she saw something in the man's face which frightened her. Whatever it was, it instantly dispelled the happiness which possessed her. The artist noticed this, and it annoyed him. He shrugged his shoulder and gave a short laugh.

"Yes, you may keep the paper," he said. "I am through with it. But I must get on with my work now."

They stood and watched him as he walked away carrying with him his easel and camp-stool.

"I am afraid of him," Betty whispered to her companion. Then she s.h.i.+vered as if cold.

"Why, what's the matter?" David asked in surprise. "What makes you afraid of that man? He is only a harmless artist, and he was very kind to us this morning. I feel most grateful for the paper he has given us."

"I know that, but I don't want to see him again," the girl replied. "I saw something in his eyes which I don't like. I can't explain it, but it makes me afraid of him. I hope he will go away soon."

"Tut, girl, that is all nonsense," David chided. "It is just a notion on your part. I like him well enough for a stranger. What harm can he do us?"

During the rest of the morning Betty could not get clear of the feeling of fear which possessed her, and David worried much over her unusual silence. She longed to see Lois that she might talk it all over with her. In fact she had her mind made up to visit her that afternoon when an unlooked-for excitement changed the entire current of her thoughts, and put the artist out of her mind for the rest of the day.

It was just after dinner when the captain and David were out upon the verandah enjoying their pipes, when a big car lurched up and stopped in front of the house. To David's surprise he saw Mr. Westcote alight and come up the verandah steps. He at once rose to meet him.