Harold Bindloss

“ The snow was crisp, but patches of uncovered wood showed where it had melted off the bridge, and the southern slope of the river bank was nearly bare. In the stream, fissured ice drifted down a wide, dark channel; one felt that spring was coming.
Behind the town, somber pines rolled back across the rocky wilderness; in the foreground, dazzling arc-lamps flung their blue reflections on the ice, and the lights of the Hulton factory ran far up in gleaming rows. Civilization had reached the spot and stopped for a time. ”

“ For some miles, the road he took ran south up a well-cultivated valley, past turnip and stubble fields and smooth pasture; and then changed to a rough stony track that climbed a hill.
A turn shut in the valley when he reached higher ground, and a long stretch of moor rolled away ahead. Foster thought these sharp transitions from intensive cultivation to the sterile wilds were characteristic of southern Scotland. It had rained since he left Hawick, but now the sun shone down between the clouds and bright gleams and flying shadows chased each other across the waste. ”

“ Few of the dirt roads leading to the new Canadian cities are good, but the one they followed, though roughly graded, was worse than usual and broke down into a wagon trail when it ran into thick bush. For a time, the car lurched and labored like a ship at sea up and down hillocks and through soft patches, and Foster durst not lift his eyes until a cluster of lights twinkled among the trees. ”

“ The bottom of the hollow was roughly level, but part was covered with small, stunted trees, many of which had been uprooted and had fallen across each other. In the open spaces, rocks and boulders rose out of an inch or two of snow. It was plain that there was no chance of Daly's alighting uninjured there. One of the men had brought a train-hand's lantern, and they followed the curve of the trestle, which rose, black and ominously high, against the moonlight. ”

“ The fellow had it in his power to bring disgrace upon upright people and drag an honored name in the mire. He could humble Alice Featherstone's pride and ruin the brother she loved.
Lawrence had done wrong, but had paid for it and made good in Canada, and now the rogue who had learned his secret would drag him down, or, as the price of silence, bring his relatives to poverty. Foster felt that Daly was not the man to be merciful when there was an advantage to be got; one saw a sinister hint of cruelty in his coarsely-handsome face. ”

“ By the look of the ground to left and right, he imagined that a stranger who lost the track would have serious trouble in regaining firm soil,
When they came out of the mist, however, he began to find the silence daunting. On the hills one could hear the grouse and plover crying and the murmur of running water, but an oppressive quietness brooded over the flow. Nor could he see much except rushes, treacherous moss, and dully-glimmering pools. By and by, however, a dark mass loomed through the haze and Pete stopped and looked back. ”

“ Foster remarked, half amused.
"I do not like the folk they harbor. The dusty trippers in leather coats and goggles ye meet at Melrose and Jedburgh are an affront to an old Scottish town. But a man on foot, in clothes that match the ling and the gray bents, gives a human touch to the scene, whether ye meet him by a wind-ruffled lochan or on the broad moor. Ye ken he has come slowly through the quiet hills, for the love o' what he sees. But ye will not understand an old man's havering!"
"I think I do," said Foster. "One learns the charm of the lone trail in the Canadian bush. ”

“ The train, which stopped now and then, ran across flat fields until it entered the valley of the Esk. The valley narrowed as they sped through the woods beside the stream, and when the line turned up the water of Liddel bleak hills began to rise ahead. The trees and rich cultivation were gradually left behind, the air got keener, and lonely moors rolled down to the winding dale. It got dark as they followed the river, and soon afterwards Foster alighted at a small station. Nobody else left the train except two or three country people, and he went to an inn in the straggling little town. ”

“ In one place there was a gap that Foster thought was Liddesdale, and his path led across the latter towards the head of Tyne. Not a house broke the sweep of withered grass and heath, and only the crying of plover that circled in the distance disturbed the silence. ”

“ Rounded hills, stained a deep blue, cut against the light, and a trail of gauzy vapor hung about a distant hollow. Since there was no mist on the moors, he knew it was the smoke of Hawick mills.
As he went down, stone dykes began to straggle up the hill. The fields they enclosed were rushy and dotted with whinns, but they got smoother and presently he came to stubble and belts of plowing. Then he turned into a good road and saw rows of lights that got gradually brighter in the valley ahead. It had been dark some time when he entered Hawick, and the damp air was filled with a thin, smoky haze. ”

“ Flying ballast crashed against the rocks, and though the ground was frozen hard a hail of small particles rattled among the trees. Then, as the tail-lights on the caboose sped by, a deep hoot of the whistle came back from about a quarter of a mile off, and soon afterwards the fading glimmer vanished round a curve. It seemed to be going slower, and the rumble died away suddenly. Foster thought there was a side-track ahead, where the freight would wait until a train going in the other direction crossed the switches. If he could reach the spot in time, he might save himself a long walk. ”

“ By and by a rough track began in a marish field and got smoother as it followed the burn. Then a hedge of tall thorns, with wool-fringed gaps between their stems where the sheep went through, ran down the waterside, and Foster sat down on a stone and studied his map. He thought it would take him nearly two hours to reach Jedburgh, but the small farm Pete had spoken of was not far off. The track he was on seemed to lead to a better road in the valley. Mist was gathering in the hollow, but when he looked back the sky was bright and the yellow glow rested on the hill. ”

“ Then he remembered Carmen's packet, and after asking a passer-by took a tram-car that carried him through the southern quarter of the town into a wide road, lined by well-built stone houses. Standing in small, neat gardens, they ran back to the open country, with a bold ridge of moors in the distance. Foster got down where he was directed and crossed the road to one of the houses. They were all much alike and he thought hinted at the character of their occupants. One would expect to find the people who lived there prosperous citizens with sober, conventional habits. ”

“ Foster was silent for a moment or two. He trusted his comrade, but suspected that there was something in his past history that he meant to hide. For one thing, Featherstone never spoke about his life in the Old Country, and Foster was surprised when he stated his intention of spending a few months there. It looked as if Daly knew his secret and had used his knowledge to blackmail him.
"I'll go to California with you," he said. "One place is as good as another for a holiday, and I'm really not keen on going home. I've no near relations and have lost touch with my friends." ”

“ Alice stopped.
"So it seems," she said in a quiet voice that nevertheless gave a Foster a thrill. "The charm of rashness is a favorite subject of yours."
"It's better that your friends should understand you," Foster replied modestly.
"One must admit that you live up to the character you give yourself. First you plunged into difficulties to keep a promise you should not have made, then you undertook to baffle a dangerous man because your partner needed help, and now I think you are going to face a very serious risk." ”

“ The snow was very soft when they plodded up the path among the trees, but it was not far to the clearing, and Foster stopped at its edge. He had met nobody, and the woods were silent except for the dying roar of the train, which came faintly down the valley. There was no smoke, but Daly would put out his fire when it got light. Crossing the wet snow noiselessly, he made for the shack and when he reached it beckoned to Pete.
"Stay here for about ten minutes, and then if I'm not back, you had better come in," he said. "If anybody runs out, don't let him pass." ”

“ Do I look dangerous?"
"No," she said with a twinkle, "if you did, I shouldn't have ventured to speak to you. On the contrary, you have a candid air that ought to banish distrust. Of course, I don't know if it's deceptive."
"You have to know people for some time before you understand them, but, on the whole, I imagine I'm harmless," Foster replied. "That's what makes it galling. If I had, for example, a part in some dark plot, I couldn't resent being watched. As it happens, I merely want to get as much innocent pleasure as possible out of a holiday, and feel vexed when people won't let me." ”

“ By and by the walls vanished and withered heath, glistening with damp, rolled past the car. They were running through a peat moss, with a deep ditch on one side, and climbing an incline, to judge by the heavy throb of the engine. Shallow ruts, filled with water, ran on in the blaze ahead and showers splashed about the wheels. Outside the bright beam the darkness was impenetrable. Foster, however, was conscious of a pleasant thrill. If one looked at the thing in one way, he was plunging into trouble that might have been avoided ”

“ Lucy Stephen made an abrupt movement, and her mother looked interested. She was a quiet lady and more reserved than the girl, but Foster thought her intelligent and firm.
"I did not," said Lawrence. "As a matter of fact, I'm no longer afraid of the fellow and mean to fight. He can't do me much harm—now."
The girl's shy glance at his comrade moved Foster. She knew what her lover meant and valued his trust; but he could sympathize with Mrs. Stephen, who looked disturbed. The latter was practical and no doubt saw that Daly might give them trouble. ”

“ To begin with, Carmen had given him the troublesome packet, then it was largely for Alice Featherstone's sake he had embarked on a fresh adventure, and now the girl in the tea-room had warned him to leave the town. It was a privilege to help Alice, but the others' interference was, so to speak, superfluous. A man could devote himself to pleasing one woman, but one was enough.
After a few minutes he stopped and looked into a shop window as a man passed a neighboring lamp. It was Daly and the fellow moved slowly, although Foster did not think he had seen him yet. ”

“ It all depends upon the train now. She's not often late."
The throb of the engine quickened and struck a sharper note, and Foster felt the car leap forward up the hill. Turning in his seat, he watched the flickering gleam behind and saw it grow fainter and then gradually get bright. It looked as if the pursuers had lost sight of the front car's tail lamp and were increasing their speed. ”

“ XXIV LAWRENCE'S STORY When the meal was over Foster began to feel impatient. Pete went away, but Mrs. Stephen and Lucy remained, and Foster, having much to ask and tell his comrade, was embarrassed by their presence. By and by he saw that Lawrence was watching him with quiet amusement.
"It's like old times to have you with us," Lawrence remarked. "In fact, it only needed your turning up to complete my satisfaction; but you're a disturbing fellow. Don't you think this lucky reunion is rather too good to spoil?" ”

“ Lucy tried to preserve her self-control, but her tone was sharp as she said, "Then you feel inclined to forgive Walters the pain and illness he caused you."
"It would be harder to forgive him your anxiety," Lawrence rejoined, and his face set hard. "In fact, if I knew he really had plotted the thing———" He paused and resumed: "One would be justified in killing a brute who could do what you imagine, but there's a difference between hating a crime and punishing the man accused of it before you have proved his guilt. ”

“ Foster replied. "In eastern Manitoba and Ontario the bush is choked and tangled, and runs nearly eight hundred miles. The small pines are half burned in places; in others they're wrecked and rotten, and lean across each other as if they were drunk. Then you can travel all day without finding an opening, unless it's a lonely lake or a river tumbling among the rocks." ”