CHAPTER X
The Stranger Proves a Friend in Need
"Just in time!" exclaimed Miles with a sob of relief. He would have been most horribly ashamed of tears at any other time, but Katherine's danger had been so imminent that even his natural desire for manliness was forgotten for the moment.
Katherine drew a long breath and set her teeth firmly. She was trembling violently now the strain was over, and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into noisy crying. But the stranger was shivering too, and in her care for him she forgot her own foolish desire for tears.
"You are as wet as I am, and as cold. Can you row?" she asked, remembering the strength of arm he had displayed in dragging her out of the water.
"Yes, and shall be glad to do it. You will be safer rowing too," he answered, then motioned to Miles to give place.
"I'll steer; then we can go ahead," said the boy jerkily. He had not got over his fright yet, and was trembling almost as badly as the others.
Slipping into their places, Katherine and the stranger took the oars. Miles edged them out of the crowding ice dangers, and, keeping well to the bank, they began their progress up river.
"Mrs. Jenkin is beckoning. Will you go across?" asked Miles.
"No," Katherine answered with prompt decision. "The force of the current is fearful, and we have faced enough risks for one day. Besides, it is of no use; we want dry garments. Mrs. Jenkin has barely enough clothes for herself, so I am certain she could not supply my needs; and no garments of Stee's would be big enough for this—this gentleman."
"My name is Jervis Ferrars," put in the stranger, seeing her embarrassment and hastening to relieve it.
"Thank you!" murmured Katherine, a flush coming into her cheeks which made her charming despite her bedraggled condition. Then she went on: "I think it will be better for you to come with us right up to Roaring Water Portage, because then we can lend you some of Father's clothes: he is tall, and they will about fit you, I should think; and it is so very difficult to get what one wants at Seal Cove."
"That I have already proved. But it was very kind of you to come and rescue me. I owe my life to you," the stranger said, with a sudden thrill of feeling in his voice.
Katherine flushed more brightly than before. "We thought it was Oily Dave whom we were trying to save," she said, with a faint ripple of laughter. "And Miles said he wasn't worth it, only of course we had to do the best we could. Are you the Englishman who came through from Maxokama two days ago?"
"Yes," he answered. "And it was the four hundred miles on snowshoes that made my feet so bad, though I am rather proud of having done it."
"I am sure you have a right to be proud of such a feat," Katherine answered; and then they did not say much more, for the work was getting harder every minute, and she wondered what would have happened if there had been only Miles and herself to manage the boat, for certainly the arms of Jervis Ferrars had a strength which Miles did not possess, yet in spite of this it was as much as they could do to make headway against the streaming current.
The danger came when they had to creep past the fishing boats, some of which were anchored so close in to the banks that they had to get out in the open river to pass them. Katherine had left off shivering, but she was trembling still from excitement and exhaustion; moreover, she was miserably self-conscious, because of the stranger who was sitting behind. It was horrible to be wet, dirty, and thoroughly bedraggled, but it was still more horrible to be compelled to sit in such a condition right under the eyes of a strange man, whose every tone and gesture proclaimed him a gentleman. But they were very nearly at the end of the journey. The roar of the rapids was in their ears, and Katherine was thinking with a sigh of relief that she would soon be able to rest her aching arms.
Suddenly Miles leant forward and spoke. "I'm afraid there is something wrong at home. Phil has just dashed out of the store door, looking as white as chalk. He beckoned to us to hurry, and now he has rushed back again."
"Father! Perhaps he is not so well," exclaimed Katherine, with a quick terror gripping at her heart. Then she thought with a swift compunction of the stranger they were bringing home, and wondered if her father would resent the intrusion.
But Phil had run out again just as the boat grounded against the bank, and now he began shouting: "Oh, do come quick; Father is dreadfully ill, and Nellie does not know what to do with him."
"You go first; the boy will help me," said Jervis Ferrars, hurrying
Katherine out of the boat.
She landed with a bound and tried to run, but her water-logged garments clung so closely about her that she could only walk, and the few steps to the door seemed like a mile.
"Nellie says it is a stroke, and she is afraid Father is dying," sobbed Phil, who was running to and fro in a distracted fashion.
A faint cry broke from Katherine, and she caught at the doorpost to save herself. Yet even in that moment she realized that this was only what she had been expecting every time that she had returned from an absence all the winter through. But to-day found her so shaken and unfit for strain that it was not wonderful she broke down, feeling that this last disaster was too great to be borne. A moment she clung there sick and faint, while the ground under her feet seemed to rise up like the waves of the sea; then the frightened wailing of Beth and Lotta reached her ears, and steadied her nerves to meet the demands upon her.
"Poor mites, how frightened they must be!" she murmured to herself, then stumbled forward again, crossing the store and entering the kitchen.
'Duke Radford lay on the floor. Doubtless he had fallen so, and Mrs. Burton had been unable to lift him; but there was a pillow under his head and a rug laid over him. He was breathing still, otherwise Katherine would have believed him already dead.
"Oh, Nellie, this is dreadful! Whatever shall we do?" she cried, her voice sharp with pain.
"If only we could get a doctor I wouldn't mind so much," sobbed
Mrs. Burton. "But that is an impossibility."
"I am afraid it is," Katherine answered, lightly touching her father's face with her finger, and wondering if he were as unconscious as he looked.
Then she felt herself gently thrust to one side, and the voice of Jervis Ferrars said quietly: "Go and get into dry clothes as quickly as you can, Miss Radford. You can do your Father no immediate good, but you may easily catch pneumonia if you stop in this condition long. I am not really a doctor, but I have had a medical training, and I can do all that can be done in this case."
"Oh, how thankful we are to have you here!" said Mrs. Burton, who felt as if the wet unknown, who was shedding pools of dirty water on to her clean floor, was an angel sent straight from heaven to help her in her time of need.
But Katherine said nothing at all; she only stumbled to her feet in blind haste and hurried away, knowing that collapse into undignified babyish crying was inevitable, and anxious to get away to some place where she might be hidden from the eyes of the others. In that crowded little house there was not much chance of privacy, however, and when Katherine entered the bedroom, to change her wet garments and cry in peace, she was immediately set upon by the twins, who had been shut in there by their mother to be out of the way. The poor mites were so frightened and unhappy that Katherine had to put aside her own miseries in order to comfort them. Then by the time she was clad in dry garments she felt better and braver, so she went back to the other room with the tears unshed.
'Duke Radford still lay on the floor in blank unconsciousness, while Mrs. Burton was busy mopping up the dirty water which had run from the wet garments of the others.
"Mr. Ferrars has gone to get into dry clothes, and then he will see about putting poor Father to bed," Mrs. Burton explained. Then she burst into agitated thanksgiving: "Oh, Katherine, how fortunate that you brought him home with you, and how wonderful it is that there is always someone to help when most it is needed! Whatever should we have done to-day if we had had no one but the fisher people to help us?"
Katherine was silent, and before the eyes of her mind there arose the picture of that moment before the two big fragments of ice collided, the moment which enabled Jervis Ferrars and herself to get into the boat. But for that pause in the destruction of the ice island it was more than probable that neither she nor the stranger would have been there at all. Of this she said nothing. Nellie had quite enough to bear without being frightened by tragedies which had not happened.
"I am afraid we brought you in a fearful lot of water," Katherine said.
"It will soon be wiped up, and the floor none the worse. That poor Mr. Ferrars had no boots or stockings on; his feet were merely swathed in towels. I have sent Miles with warm water to help him put them comfortable; and now there is someone in the store. Dear, can you go? I don't know where Phil is."
"I will go. But what about Father?" Katherine asked, lingering.
"You can do nothing for him, and he is as comfortable as it is possible to make him at present," Mrs. Burton replied. Then Katherine hurried away, for business must be attended to whatever disasters menaced the family peace and happiness.
The customer was a man from one of the fishing boats, which was preparing to leave the river directly the barrier of ice at the mouth gave way. He wanted more stores than could be immediately supplied, and promised to come back for them later.
"I saw you'd got the Englishman in your boat when you came up river; I thought he looked pretty sick," remarked the fisher, who was a Yankee from Long Island Sound.
"His feet are bad, which is not wonderful when one remembers his journey from Maxokama," Katherine answered, wishing that the man would go, so that she might go back to her father.
But this he seemed in no hurry to do, and with a cautious look round to make sure no one was within earshot, he leaned over the counter and asked in a confidential tone: "Can you keep a secret, Miss?"
"I think so, but I am not very fond of them," she answered, drawing back with a repressive air, for the man's manner was more familiar than she cared for.
"Well, it's this then; the Englishman is likely to go on getting sicker still if he keeps lodging at Oily Dave's hotel. Do you twig my meaning?"
"No, certainly not," Katherine answered; then a shiver crept over her, because of the sinister interpretation which might be put to the words.
"I don't want to be hauled up in a libel case," said the Yankee.
"Are there any witnesses within hearing?"
"No, not if you keep your voice down," she answered, dropping her own, and feeling that here was something she ought to know, however unpleasant or burdensome the knowledge might prove.
"Well, they are saying that the new fleet-owner, Mr. Selincourt, ain't satisfied with things going on as they used to do, and so he has sent this young man up to spy round a bit, report the catch, keep expenses down, and that sort of thing. Oily Dave has always reckoned to make a good picking out of the fishing, you know, and it ain't likely he'd approve of being spied upon."
"Why have you told me this?" demanded Katherine. Her eyes were dilated with fear, and there was a sickening apprehension in her heart. In that wild place, so far from law and order, a dozen dreadful things might happen, and the world would be none the wiser.
The Yankee laughed and stuffed a plug of tobacco into his left cheek. Then he replied: "They all say on the river that you are a powerful smart girl, and can do most things you set your mind to. Possession is nine points of the law, you know. You have got the Englishman here; keep him somehow—unless you want him to leave Oily Dave's hotel feet foremost, that is."
Katherine gasped, and the words she would have uttered stuck fast in her throat. A man's life had been thrust into her keeping, and she must guard it as best she might.
"I wish you would tell——" she began falteringly, then a door creaked at the far end of the store, and the Yankee straightened himself with great promptitude, ready for instant departure.
"Well, good morning, Miss! Beautiful thaw, ain't it now? I should think the mouth of the river must go bust before to-morrow;" and with a flourish of his very seedy old hat the citizen of the United States walked out of the store. He did not often lift his hat to anyone; for, believing that all men were equal, such observance struck him as servile. But Katherine had a way with her that compelled respect; moreover, she was a downright gritty girl, as he expressed it: so the hat-flourish was really a tribute to her strength of character.
As he went out of the door, Jervis Ferrars came hobbling out from the bedroom leaning on Miles. Dressed in 'Duke Radford's working clothes, he looked like an ordinary working man, except for that indefinable air of culture which clung to him.
"I am going to see to your father now, Miss Radford. Miles and I have got the bed ready, and the sooner we get the poor man undressed and comfortable, the better it will be for him."
"Thank you!" said Katherine, then shivered again as she recalled the Yankee's words about keeping the stranger from the power of Oily Dave.
Jervis Ferrars looked at her keenly, noting the shiver and the trouble in her eyes; then he said abruptly: "What is the matter? Do you feel ill, or is it something fresh?"
For a moment Katherine hesitated, but he would have to be told, she knew, so she said hastily: "It is something that—that you must know. I will tell you presently when I get a chance."
"Very well," he replied briefly, then hobbled on into the kitchen, and for the next hour was occupied in doing his utmost for the sick man.
Katherine was left a moment alone with Mrs. Burton, after 'Duke Radford had been carried to his bed, and she said hastily: "Nellie, would you mind if Mr. Ferrars stayed here for a few days until his feet are better? We are crowded, I know; but either he or the boys could sleep in the loft now it is warmer, and Oily Dave's house is impossible until the flood is down."
"I should say it is impossible at any time," replied Mrs. Burton, "and I shall be only too thankful if he will stay for a while because of poor father. Oh, Katherine, I am afraid this long terrible winter has killed him," she said, with a quiver of breakdown in her voice.
"It is not the winter. Why, he has scarcely been out at all, so he cannot have suffered from that," Katherine answered sadly. She knew only too well why her father had broken down again, only the worst of it was she could not tell anyone, but must hide the knowledge within her own heart, because it involved her father's honour.
"I have seen him failing for so long, only yesterday and to-day he seemed better," Mrs. Burton went on; "and he was sitting quite comfortably by the stove, not talking very much, but looking thoroughly contented, when he suddenly pitched out of his chair and lay like a log on the floor."
"Will you ask Mr. Ferrars to stay with us, or shall I?" said
Katherine.
"I will if you like. I will put it so that he shall think he is doing us a favour, then he will be more comfortable about accepting; and really, as things are, I don't see where else there is for him to go."
"Nor I," replied Katherine, and was thankful to leave the matter in her sister's hands for the present.