XXIII.

  BROOKE'S CONFESSION.

  The Pacific express had just come in, and the C. P. R. wharf atVancouver was thronged with a hurrying crowd when Barbara Heathcote andher sister stood leaning upon the rails of the S. S. _Islander_. Beneaththem the big locomotive which had hauled the dusty cars over the wildSelkirk passes was crawling slowly down the wharf with bell tollingdolefully, and while a feathery steam roared aloft above the tiers ofwhite deckhouses a stream of passengers flowed up the gangway. Barbara,who was crossing to Victoria, watched them languidly until anelaborately-dressed woman ascended, leaning upon the arm of a man whosefastidious neatness of attire and air of indifference to the confusionabout him proclaimed him an Englishman. She made a very slightinclination when the woman smiled at her.

  "It is fortunate she can't very well get at us here," she said, glancingat the pile of baggage which cut them off from the rest of the deck."Three or four hours of Mrs. Coulson's conversation would be a good dealmore than I could appreciate."

  "You need scarcely be afraid of it in the meanwhile," said Mrs. Devine."It is a trifle difficult to hear one's self speak."

  "For which her husband is no doubt thankful. Until I met them once ortwice I wondered why that man wore an habitually tired expression. Ofcourse there are Englishmen who consider it becoming, but one feels thatin his case his looks are quite in keeping with his sensations."

  Mrs. Devine laughed. "You don't like the woman?"

  "No," said Barbara, reflectively. "I really don't know why I shouldn't,but I don't. She certainly poses too much, and the last time I had thepleasure of listening to her at the Wheelers' house she patronized meand the country too graciously. The country can get along without hercommendation."

  "I wonder if she asked you anything about Brooke?"

  "No," said Barbara, a trifle sharply. "Where could she have met him?"

  "In England. She seemed to know he was at the Dayspring, and managed, Ifancy, intentionally, to leave me with the impression that they wereespecial friends in the Old Country. I wonder if she knows he will be onboard to-day?"

  "Mr. Brooke is crossing with us?" said Barbara, with an indifference hersister had some doubts about.

  "Grant seemed to expect him. He is going to buy American miningmachinery or something of the kind in Victoria. I believe it was heGrant left us to meet."

  Barbara said nothing, though she was sensible of a curious littlethrill. She had not seen Brooke since the evening he had behaved in whatwas an apparently inexplicable fashion at the ranch, and had heard verylittle about him. She, however, watched the wharf intently, until shesaw Devine accost a man with a bronzed face who was quietly threadinghis way through the hurrying groups, and her heart beat a trifle fasterthan usual as they moved together towards the steamer. Then almostunconsciously she turned to see if the woman they had been discussingwas also watching for him, but she had by this time disappeared.Barbara, for no very apparent reason, felt a trifle pleased at this.

  In the meanwhile Devine was talking rapidly to Brooke.

  "Here is a letter for you that came in with yesterday's mail," he said."Struck anything more encouraging at the mine since you wrote me?"

  "No," said Brooke. "I'm afraid we haven't. Still, Allonby seems as sureas ever and is most anxious to get the new plant in."

  Devine appeared thoughtful. "You'll have to knock off the big boringmachine anyway. The mine's just swallowing dollars, and we'll have to goa trifle slower until some more come in. English directors didn't seemquite pleased last mail. Somebody in their papers has been slating theDayspring properties, and there's a good deal of stock they couldn'twork off. In fact, they seemed inclined to kick at my last draft, andwe'll want two or three more thousand dollars before the month is up."

  Brooke would have liked to ask several questions, but between theclanging of the locomotive bell and the roar of steam conversation wasdifficult, and when they stopped a moment at the foot of the gangwayDevine's voice only reached him in broken snatches.

  "Got to keep your hand down--spin every dollar out. I'm writing straightabout another draft. Use the wires the moment you strike anything thatwould give the stock a lift."

  "If you're going I guess it's 'bout time you got aboard," said a seaman,who stood ready to launch the gangway in; and Brooke, making a sign ofcomprehension to Devine, went up with a run.

  Then the ropes were cast off, and he sat down to open his letter underthe deckhouse, as with a sonorous blast of her whistle the big whitesteamer swung out from the wharf. It was from the English kinsman whohad previously written him, and confirmed what Devine had said.

  "I'm sorry you are holding so much of the Canadian mining stock," heread. "You are, perhaps, better posted about the mine than I am, butthough the shares were largely underwritten, I understand the promotersfound it difficult to place a proportion of the rest, and my broker toldme that several holders would be quite willing to get out at well underpar already."

  It was not exactly good news from any point of view, and Brooke waspondering over it somewhat moodily when he heard a voice he recognized,and looking up saw a woman with pale blue eyes smiling at him.

  "Lucy!" he said, with evident astonishment, but no great show ofpleasure.

  "You looked so occupied that I was really afraid to disturb you," saidthe woman. "Shafton is talking Canadian politics with somebody, and Iwonder if you are too busy to find a chair for me."

  Brooke got one, and his companion, who was the woman Barbara had alludedto as Mrs. Coulson, sat down, and said nothing for a while as she gazedback across the blue inlet with evident appreciation. This was, in onerespect, not astonishing, though so far as Brooke could remember she hadnever been remarkably fond of scenery, for the new stone city that rosewith its towering telegraph poles roof beyond roof up the hillside,gleaming land-locked waterway, and engirdling pines with the white blinkof ethereal snow high above them all, made a very fair picture thatafternoon.

  "This," she said at last, "would really be a beautiful country ifeverything wasn't quite so crude."

  "It is certainly not exactly adapted to landscape-gardening," saidBrooke. "A two-thousand foot precipice and a hundred-league forest is atrifle big. Still, I'm not sure its inhabitants would appreciate suchpraise."

  Lucy Coulson laughed. "They are like it in one respect--I don't mean insize--and delightfully touchy on the subject. Now, there was a girl Imet not long ago who appeared quite displeased with me when I said thatwith a little improving one might compare it to Switzerland. I told herI scarcely felt warranted in dragging paradise in, if only because ofsome of its characteristic customs. I think her name was Devane, orsomething equally unusual, though it might have been her marriedsister's. Perhaps it's Canadian."

  She fancied a trace of indignation crept into the man's bronzed face,but it vanished swiftly.

  "One could scarcely call Miss Heathcote crude," he said.

  Lucy Coulson did not inquire whether he was acquainted with the lady inquestion, but made a mental note of the fact.

  "It, of course, depends upon one's standard of comparison," she said."No doubt she comes up to the one adopted in this country. Still, thoughthe latter is certainly pretty, what is keeping--you--in it now?"

  "Then you have heard of my good fortune?"

  "Of course! Shafton and I were delighted. Your executors wrote for youraddress to me."

  Brooke started visibly as he recognized that she must in that case havelearned the news a month before he did, for a good deal had happened inthe meanwhile.

  "Then it is a little curious that you did not mention it in the note yousent inviting me to meet you at the Glacier Lake," he said.

  Lucy Coulson lifted her eyes to his a moment, and then glanced aside,while there was a significant softness in her voice as she said, "Thenews seemed so good that I wanted to be the one who told it you."

  Again Brooke felt a disconcerting sense of embarrassment, and because hehad no wish that she should recognize this looked at her
steadily.

  "It apparently became of less importance when I did not come," he saidwith a trace of dryness. "There is a reliable postal service in thiscountry. Do you remember exactly what day you went to the Lake on?"

  Mrs. Coulson laughed, and made a little half-petulant gesture. "Ifancied you did not deserve to hear it when you could not contrive tocome forty miles to see me. Still, I think I can remember the day.Shafton had to be in Vancouver on the Wednesday----"

  She told him in another moment, and Brooke was sensible of a suddenthrill of anger that was for the most part a futile protest against thefact that his destiny should lie at the mercy of a vain woman's idlefancy, for had he known on the day she mentioned he would never havemade the attempt upon Devine's papers. Barbara Heathcote, he decided,doubtless knew by this time what had brought him to the ranch on theeventful night, and even if she did not the imposition he had beenguilty of then remained as a barrier between him and her. Afterpermitting her to give him credit for courage and a desire to watch overher safety he dare not tell her he had come as a thief. Still, herecognized that it was, after all, illogical to blame his companion forhis own folly.

  "Harford," she said, gently, "are you very vexed with me?"

  Brooke smiled in a somewhat strained fashion. "No," he said, "I scarcelythink I am, and I have, at least, no right to be. I don't know whetheryou will consider it a sufficient excuse, but I was very busy on the dayin question. I was, you see, under the unfortunate necessity of earningmy living."

  "I think there was a time when you would not have let that stand in theway, but men are seldom very constant, are they?"

  Brooke made no attempt to controvert the assertion. It seemed distinctlywiser to ignore it, since his companion apparently did not remember thatshe had now a husband who could hardly be expected to appreciate anyunwavering devotion offered her, which was a fact that had itsimportance in Brooke's eyes, at least. Then she turned towards him withdisconcerting suddenness.

  "Why don't you go home now you have enough to live, with a littleeconomy, as you were meant to do?" she said. "This country is no placefor you."

  Brooke, who did not remember that she previously endeavored to lead upto the question, started, for it was one which he had not infrequentlyasked himself of late, and the answer that the opportunity of provinghis capabilities as a dam-builder and mining engineer had itsattractions was, he knew, not quite sufficient in itself. Then, as ithappened, Barbara Heathcote and Mrs. Devine, who appeared in thecompanion, came towards them along the deck, and Lucy Coulson noticedthe glow in his eyes that was followed by a sudden hardening of hisface. Perhaps she guessed a little, or it was done out of wantonness,for she laid her white-gloved hand upon his arm and leaned forward atrifle.

  "Harford," she said, looking up at him, "once upon a time you gave meyour whole confidence."

  Brooke hoped his face was expressionless, for he was most unpleasantlysensible of that almost caressing touch upon his arm, as well as of thefact that his attitude, or, at least, that of his companion, wasdistinctly liable to misconception by any one aware that she was anotherman's wife. He had no longer any tenderness for her, and she had in anycase married Shafton Coulson, who, so far as he had heard, made her avery patient as well as considerate husband.

  "That was several years ago," he said.

  Lucy Coulson laughed, and, though it is probable that she had seen themapproach, turned with a little start that seemed unnecessarily apparentas Barbara and Mrs. Devine came up, while Brooke hoped his face did notsuggest what he was thinking. As a matter of fact, it was distinctlyflushed, which Barbara naturally noticed. She would have passed, butthat Mrs. Coulson stopped her with a gesture.

  "So glad to see you!" she said. "Can't you stay a little and talk to us?One is out of the breeze under the deck-house here. Harford, there aretwo unoccupied chairs yonder."

  Brooke wished she would not persist in addressing him as Harford, but hebrought the chairs, and Mrs. Devine, who had her own reasons for fallingin with the suggestion, sat down. Barbara had no resource but to takethe place beside her, and Lucy Coulson smiled at both of them.

  "I believe Mrs. Devine mentioned that you had met Mr. Brooke," she saidto the girl. "He is, of course, a very old friend of mine."

  She contrived to give the words a significance which Brooke winced at,but he sat watching Barbara covertly while the others talked, or ratherlistened while Lucy Coulson did. Barbara scarcely glanced at him, but hefancied that Devine had not told her yet, or she would not have joined agroup which included him at all. The position was not exactly a pleasantone, but he could think of no excuse for going away, and listenedvacantly. Lucy Coulson, as it happened, was discoursing upon Canada,which when she did not desire to please a Canadian was a favorite topicof hers. Barbara, however, on this occasion only watched her with alittle reposeful smile, and so half an hour slipped by while, withmastheads swinging lazily athwart the blue, the white-painted steamerrolled along, past rocky islets shrouded in dusky pines, across ashining sea above which white lines of snow gleamed ethereally.

  Mrs. Coulson, however, had no eyes to spare for any of it, for when theywere not fixed upon the girl she was watching Brooke.

  "Some of the men we met in the mountains were delightfullyinconsequent," she said at length. "There was one called Saxton at amine, who spent a good deal of one afternoon telling us about thereforms that ought to be made in the administration of this province,and which I fancy he intended to effect. It was, of course, not asubject I was greatly interested in, but the man was so much in earnestthat one had to listen to him, and Shafton told me afterwards that hewas, where business was concerned, evidently a great rascal. Shafton,you know, enjoys listening quietly and afterwards turning people insideout for inspection. Still, perhaps, it was a little unwise to single theman out individually. There is always a risk of somebody who hears youbeing a friend of the person when you do that kind of thing--and now Iremember he mentioned Mr. Brooke."

  Brooke noticed that Barbara cast a swift glance at him, and wonderedwith sudden anger if Lucy Coulson had not already done him harm enough.Then Barbara turned towards the latter.

  "Saxton," she said quietly, "is an utterly unprincipled man. I really donot think we have many like him in this country. You probably mistookhis reference to Mr. Brooke."

  Mrs. Coulson laughed. "Of course, I may have done, though I almost thinkhe said Harford was a partner of his. Perhaps, however, he had a purposein telling us that, for he had been trying to sell Shafton some landcompany's shares, though if it hadn't been true he would scarcely haveventured to mention it."

  There was a sudden silence, and Brooke, who felt Barbara's eyes uponhim, heard the splash of water along the steamer's plates and thethrobbing of the screw. He also saw that Mrs. Devine was rather moreintent than usual, and that Lucy Coulson was wondering at the effect ofwhat she had said. He could, he fancied, acquit her of any ill intent,but that was no great consolation, for he could not controvert herassertion, and he felt that now she had mentioned the condemning facthis one faint chance was to let Barbara have the explanation from hisown lips instead of asking it from Devine. Still, he could scarcely doso when the rest were there, and Lucy Coulson, at least, showed nointention of leaving him and the girl alone. It was, in fact, almost anhour later when her husband crossed the deck and she rose.

  "Shafton has nobody to talk to, and one has to remember their duty nowand then," she said.

  Then as the steamer swung round a nest of reefs that rose out of a whiteswirl of tide the sea breeze swept that side of the deckhouse and Mrs.Devine departed for another wrap or shawl. Lifting her head Barbaralooked at the man steadily.

  "Was that woman's story true?" she said.

  Brooke made a little gesture which implied that he attempted no defence.

  "It was," he said.

  A faint spark crept into Barbara's eyes, and a tinge of color into hercheek. "You know what you are admitting?"

  "I am afraid I do."

 
Barbara Heathcote had a temper, and though she usually held it in checkit swept her away just then.

  "Then, though we only discovered it afterwards, you knew that Saxton wasscheming against my brother-in-law, and bought up the timber-rights toextort money from him?"

  Again Brooke made a little gesture, and the girl, who seemed stirred ashe had scarcely believed her capable of being, straightened herselfrigidly.

  "And yet you crept into his house, and permitted us--it is very hard tosay it--to make friends with you! Had you no sense of fitness? Can't youeven speak?"

  Brooke was too confused, and the girl too furious, for either of them torealize the significance of her anger, since the fact that she hadmerely permitted him to meet her as an acquaintance at the ranchscarcely seemed to warrant that almost passionate outbreak.

  "I'm afraid there is nothing I can plead in extenuation except thatGrant Devine's agent swindled me," he said.

  Barbara laughed scornfully. "And you felt that would warrant you playingthe part you did. Was it a spy's part only, or were you to be a traitor,too?"

  Then Brooke, who lost his head, did what was at the moment, at least, amost unwise thing.

  "I expect I deserve all you can say or think of me," he said. "Still, Ican't help a fancy that you are not quite free from responsibility."

  "I?" said Barbara, incredulously.

  Brooke nodded. "Yes," he said, desperately, "you heard me correctly.Under the circumstances it isn't exactly complimentary or particularlyeasy to explain. Still, you see, you showed me that the content with mysurroundings I was sinking into was dangerous when you came to theQuatomac ranch; and afterwards the more I saw of you the more I realizedwhat the six thousand dollars I hoped to secure from Devine would giveme a chance of attaining."

  He broke off abruptly, as though afraid to venture further, and Barbarawatched him a moment, breathless with anger, with lips set. There wasnobody on that part of the deck just then, and the steady pounding ofthe engines broke through what the man felt to be an especiallydisconcerting silence. Then she laughed in a fashion that stung him likea whip.

  "And you fancied there were girls in this country with anything worthoffering who would be content with such a man as you are?" she said."One has, however, to bear with a good deal that is said about Canada,and perhaps you would have been able to keep the deception that gainedthe appreciation of one of them up. You are proficient at that kind ofthing."

  "I am quite aware that the excuse is a very poor one."

  The girl felt that whether it was dignified or not the relief speechafforded was imperative.

  "Haven't you even the wit to urge the one creditable thing you did?"

  Brooke contrived to meet her eyes. "You mean when I came into the ranchone night. You don't know that was merely a part of the rest?"

  The blood rushed to Barbara's face. "The man was your confederate, andyou fell out over the booty--or perhaps you heard me coming and arrangedthe little scene for my benefit?"

  "No," said Brooke, with a harsh laugh. "In that case the climax of itwould have been unnecessarily realistic. You may remember that he shotme. Still, since you may as well know the worst of me, it happened thatwe both came there with the same purpose, which is somewhat naturallyaccounted for by the fact that your brother-in-law was away that night."

  "And you allowed me to sympathize with you for your injury and tofancy----"

  Barbara broke off abruptly, for it appeared inadvisable under thecircumstances to let him know what motive she had accredited him with.

  "My brother-in-law is naturally not aware of this?" she said.

  "I, at least, considered it necessary to acquaint him with most of itbefore I went to the Dayspring. No doubt you will find it difficult tocredit that, but if it appears worth while you can of course confirm it.You would evidently have been less tolerant than he has shown himself!"

  Barbara stood up, and Brooke became sensible of intense relief as he sawMrs. Devine was approaching with a bundle of wraps.

  "I would sooner have sacrificed the mine than continue to have anydealings with you," she said.

  Then she turned away, and left him sitting somewhat limply in his chairand staring vacantly at the sea. He saw no more of her during the restof the voyage, but when two hours later the steamer reached Victoria hewent straight to the cable company's office and sent his kinsman inEngland a message which somewhat astonished him.

  "Buy Dayspring on my account as far as funds will go," it read.