Hawtrey's Deputy Part 40

The skipper spread a hard hand out, and sat down heavily.

"That," he said, "is what I have to tell you. He asked me to."

"He asked you to?" said Agatha, and though her voice was strained there was relief in it.

The skipper made a little gesture, which seemed to beseech her patience.

"Yes," he said, "if--anything went wrong--he told me I was to come here to Mrs. Hastings."

Agatha turned her head away, but Mrs. Hastings saw the laces which hung beneath her neck sharply rise and fall.

"Then," she said, "something has gone wrong?"

"About as wrong as it could," and Dampier quietly met her gaze.

"Wyllard and two other men are drowned."

He broke off abruptly, and Mrs. Hastings fancied she saw Agatha s.h.i.+ver, but in another moment or two the girl turned slowly round with a drawn white face. It was, however, Hastings who spoke, almost sternly.

"Go on," he said.

"I'm to tell you all?"

This time it was Agatha who broke in.

"Yes," she said with a curious quietness that struck the rest as being strained and unnatural, "you must tell us all."

Dampier, who appeared to shrink from his task, commenced awkwardly, but he gained coherence and force of expression as he proceeded. At least, he made them understand something of the grim resolution which had animated Wyllard. He pictured, in terse seaman's words, the little schooner plunging to windward over long phalanxes of icy seas, or crawling white with snow through the blinding fog. His companions saw the big combers tumbling ready to break short upon the dipping bows out of the dark, and half-frozen men struggling for dear life with folds of madly thras.h.i.+ng sail. The pictures were, however, necessarily somewhat blurred and hazy, for after all only an epic poet could fittingly describe the things that must be done and borne at sea, and epic poets--it is, perhaps, a pity--are not bred in the forecastle. When he reached the last scene he gained almost dramatic power, and Agatha's face grew strangely white and tense. She saw the dim figures pulling in the flying spray beneath the wall of ice.

"We ran her in," he added, "with the snow blinding us. It was working up for a heavy blow, and as we'd have to beat her out we couldn't take sail off her. We stood on until we heard the sea along the edge of the ice, and then there was nothing to do but jam her on the wind and thrash her clear. There was only a plank or two of the boat, an oar, and Charly's cap, when we came back again!"

"After all, though the boat was smashed, they might have got out,"

Hastings suggested.

"Well," said Dampier simply, "it didn't seem likely. The ice was sharp and ragged, and there was a long wash of sea. A man's not tough enough to stand much of that kind of hammering."

Agatha's face grew a little whiter, but Dampier, who had paused, went on again.

"Anyway," he said, "they didn't turn up at the inlet as we'd fixed, and that decided the thing. If Wyllard had been alive, he surely would have done."

"Isn't it just possible that he might have fallen into the hands of the Russians?" asked Hastings.

"I naturally thought of that, but so far as the chart shows there isn't a settlement within leagues of the spot. Besides, supposing the Russians had got him, how could I have helped him? They'd have sent him off in the first place to one of the bigger settlements in the South, and if the authorities couldn't have connected him with any illegal sealing they'd no doubt have managed to send him across to j.a.pan by and bye. In that case, he'd have got home without any trouble."

He paused, and it was significant that he turned to Agatha with a little deprecatory gesture.

"No," he added, "there was nothing I could do."

It was evident that Agatha acquitted him, but she asked a question.

"Captain Dampier," she said, "had you any expectation of finding those three men when you sailed the second time?"

"No," said the bronzed sailorman, with an impressive quietness, "I hadn't any, and I don't think Wyllard had either. Still, he meant to make quite certain." He spread a hard hand out forcibly. "He felt he had to."

He gazed at Agatha, and saw comprehension in her eyes.

"Yes," she said, "and when you have said that, as you have done, you could have said very little more of any man."

Then she turned her head away from them, and once more there was for a few moments a heavy silence in the room. It cost the girl a painful effort to sit still, apparently unmoved, but there was strength in her, and she would not betray her distress. She felt that the latter must be quietly grappled with. It was almost overwhelming, horribly acute, but there was mingled with it a faint consolatory thrill of pride, for it was clear that the man who had loved her had done a splendid thing.

He had given all that had been given him--and she knew she would never forget that phrase of his--willingly, and it seemed to her that the gifts he had been entrusted with were rare and precious ones--steadfast, unflinching courage, compa.s.sion, and the fine sense of honour which had sent him out on that forlorn hope. He had gone down, unyielding and undismayed--she felt curiously sure of that--amidst the blinding snow, but this was his vindication which had crowned him with immortal laurels.

Then Mrs. Hastings rose, and set food before Dampier, while by and bye Sproatly and Winifred arrived and were told the story. After that Dampier, who seemed to be a man of tact, stood up. He had already, when asked by Mrs. Hastings, promised to stay with them a day or two.

"Well," he said, "it seems to me you'll naturally want to talk over things. If you'll excuse me, I'll take a stroll across the prairie."

He went out, and Hastings who lighted his pipe lay back in his chair and looked at the rest.

"Harry's friends are numerous, but we're, perhaps, the nearest, and, as Dampier said, we have to consider things," he said. "To begin with, there's a certain possibility that he has escaped, after all."

He saw the little abrupt movement that Agatha made, and went on rather more quickly.

"Gregory, of course, has control at the Range until we have proof of Harry's death, though the latter made a proviso that if there was no word of the party within eighteen months after he had sailed, or within six months of the time Dampier had landed him, we could a.s.sume it, after which the will he handed me would take effect," he added. "This, it is evident, leaves Gregory in charge for some months yet, but it seems to me it's our duty to see he doesn't fling away Harry's property. I've reasons for believing that he has been doing it lately."

He looked at Sproatly, who sat silent a moment or two.

"I'm rather awkwardly placed," the latter said at length. "You see, there's no doubt that I'm indebted to Gregory."

Winifred turned to him with impatience in her eyes. "Then," she said severely, "you certainly shouldn't have been, and it ought to be quite clear that n.o.body wishes you to do anything that would hurt him." She looked at Hastings. "In case the will takes effect, who does the property go to?"

Hastings appeared embarra.s.sed. "That," he objected, "is a thing I'm not warranted in telling you in the meanwhile."

A suggestive gleam crept into Winifred's eyes, but it vanished and her manner became authoritative when she turned back to Sproatly.

"Jim," she said, "you will tell Mr. Hastings all you know."

Sproatly made a gesture of resignation. "After all," he admitted, "I think it's necessary. Gregory, as I've told you already, put up a big mortgage on his place, and in view of the price of wheat and the state of his crop, it's evident that he must have had some difficulty in meeting the interest, unless--and one or two things suggest this--he paid it with Harry's money. Of course, as Harry gave him a share, there's no reason why he shouldn't do this so long as he does not overdraw that share. There's no doubt, however, that he has lost a good deal of money on the wheat market."

"Has he lost any of Harry's?" Mrs. Hastings asked.

Sproatly hesitated. "I'm afraid it's practically certain."

Then Winifred broke in. "Yes," she said, "he has lost a great deal.

Hamilton knows almost everything that's going on, and I got it out of him. He's a friend of Wyllard's, and seems very vexed with Gregory."

The others said nothing for a moment or two, and then Mrs. Hastings spoke again.

"In a general way," she said, "most of us don't keep much in the bank, and that expedition must have cost Harry a good deal. How would Gregory get hold of the money before harvest?"

"Edmonds, who holds his mortgage, would let him have it," said Sproatly.