CHAPTER XV
THE SUMMONS
The morning after the debate Constance was moving briskly about the little cabin she had assisted in erecting with her own hands. She was relating to her father, who was lying on a cot, the stirring scenes of the previous evening.
"Oh, it was so funny at first to listen to the strange things some of the men said. They were like a lot of school boys. But there was one old man who spoke so earnestly when he told about his past life that I could not keep back the tears from my eyes."
"And you were behind the curtain all the time?" questioned her father.
"Yes, until the row began. At first I felt like running out of the building by the door which was near, I was so frightened. But when I saw the efforts Mr. Steadman was making to stop the fight I seemed like a coward for the thought of deserting. For a few minutes I did not know what to do. Then I remembered a story I had read long ago, how an angry mob was stilled by a song, and I made up my mind to try it on those men. I could hardly stand at first, my knees were so weak, and I trembled violently. But when I saw the effect the song produced I took courage and had no more trouble."
"My dear, brave child," responded Mr. Radhurst affectionately, "you remind me of your mother; you have her disposition, so brave, and yet so kind and gentle."
"Not very brave, daddy, but I would do anything for you," and Constance gave the old man a loving kiss. "If I am gentle it is you who made me so; you are always so considerate."
"But tell me, Connie, how it all ended. I am anxious to hear some more."
"Oh, we sang hymns and songs the rest of the evening, and then those great, rough men came up one by one and shook hands with me. Some of them, I really believe, had not shaken hands with a woman for years, as they just wabbled my hand, and then dropped it as if they were frightened. But the old man with the white hair and long beard squeezed my hand till I nearly cried out with pain. The tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked into my eyes and said, 'God bless ye, lady, ye've done us a power of good to-night.'"
"Mr. Steadman must have been pleased, Connie, at the happy ending."
"Happy? I don't believe I ever saw such a look on any man's face before; it fairly shone with delight. He looked at me and tried to express his gratitude in suitable words, but I never heard a man stammer so in my life. He gave up the attempt at last, and simply said, 'Thank you!'"
"Did he say he would come this morning to see me?"
"Yes, as soon as he could, and I believe that's his step now."
"I am afraid I am very late," said Keith, when he had entered the building, "but you see I've been delayed."
"Overslept yourself?" laughed Constance.
"Oh, no. I've been to the drug store."
"The drug store!"
"Yes, and found the druggist asleep. When I awoke him it took me two whole hours to get what I wanted. How is that for business?"
"A drug store! and a druggist! I don't understand," and a puzzled expression spread over Constance's face.
"Well, you see, it's this way. I left Pete asleep, as he was tired after his long trip, and went to get the roots of which I told you at Siwash Creek. I found the old chief asleep, and when he was awake and I told him what I wanted it took me one hour to answer all the questions he asked. Then he made a long speech about his ancestors, and how the wonderful roots had cured so many of them. By the time he was through another hour had slipped by. But at last I got what I wanted and here it is, so I am going to begin at once upon that racking cough."
"Mr. Steadman," said Constance, "will you please tell me where all these things came from which we found in this room?"
"What things?" queried Keith, as he carefully unwrapped the precious roots from their thin bark covering.
"Why, this splendid bear-skin rug on the floor; that large wolf skin on my father's cot, and those pictures on the walls; they do not belong to us."
"Do you mind very much, Miss Radhurst? If you are offended I'll take them away, for it was I who brought them here."
Receiving no reply, he continued: "When I came to light the fire, so as to have the building warm for your arrival, I noticed how bare the room looked, and turned over in my mind how to improve its appearance, and so brought these over. That bearskin rug is from one of the finest grizzlies ever seen in the North. I brought him down one morning when he was about to make a breakfast of me."
Keith did not tell that in killing the animal he had risked his own life to save an Indian youth, who was in the creature's grip. The lad was a stranger to him, and when he was released he gave one quick, searching glance of gratitude at the missionary and then sped like a deer up the long, deep ravine. He had never seen the lad since, but his bright face and manly figure were often in his mind.
To Keith, the days that followed were full of peace and happiness. The Reading Room was well attended and, more important still, the church was filled every Sunday with an orderly number of men. It now appeared that the turn of affairs on the night of the debate had discouraged Pritchen entirely from his opposition.
Keith became a regular visitor at the Radhurst cabin, and Constance always awaited his coming with pleasure. They read aloud from some favourite author, during the long evenings, when Mr. Radhurst was an eager listener until he fell asleep.
"I wish I had my copy of Browning," said Keith one night, "but I have lost it somewhere. I had it on the trail, and well remember the last time I read from it. It was in an open camp, where I must have left it."
"He seems to be your favourite author," replied Constance.
"One of my favourites. He deals with the deep, serious things of life, and has such a virile faith."
One afternoon, instead of reading, they went out for a short snow-shoe tramp. The day was clear and fine, and the myriads of snowy crystals gemmed the whole landscape with surpassing glory. They climbed the hills, chatting like happy children, while at times their voices rang out in joyous peals of laughter. When they returned to the cabin their faces glowed with the keen exercise, and Keith, looking at Constance, thought he never beheld a fairer picture of health and beauty.
"You will come in to see father," she said, when they had reached the door.
"No, not to-day, thank you," Keith replied. "I have had so much enjoyment this afternoon, that I feel quite intoxicated. I must get back to my cabin and do some translationary work. Spring will soon be here, so I want to get the task finished and off in the first boat."
Keith had been engaged for some time upon the Psalms, and had reached the one hundred and twenty-first. Generally it was easy for him to concentrate his mind upon his task, and hours would slip quickly by. But to-day it was different. "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills," he began, and then tried to write. Instead of the Indian words slipping from beneath his pen, he found himself sketching a fair face upon the white sheet before him. So absorbed was he at this pleasant occupation that time moved unheeded by. He was at length startled by a loud rap upon the door, and quickly turning the sketch face downwards upon the table called to the visitor to come in. At once a young man entered, and cast a curious glance around the snug room.
"Mr. Steadman," he began, "you're wanted at the store. There's trouble on hand. Tim Fleeters had a poke of gold stolen from his cabin, and a miners' meeting has been called to see what's to be done."
"Certainly I will go," replied Keith. "Will you wait for me?"
"No, I must hurry on; I have more calls to make," and with that he was away.
Before leaving, Keith lifted the drawing from the table and placed it in a strong chest in one corner of the room.
"There, if anyone should enter during my absence nothing will be left to tell how I have spent the afternoon."
As he moved along the path leading to the store, Pritchen crept out from behind an adjacent building and watched the missionary until his tall figure was out of sight. Then with a low chuckle he moved towards the light shining through the window from the candle which Keith in his hurry had forgotten to extinguish. Drawing near he peered cautiously into the room, but could observe no one within. To be surer, he knocked, and, receiving no response, opened the door and entered.
"Ha, ha," he muttered half aloud, as he glanced swiftly around the room. "Snug place this. Nice books there. But you'll learn something soon, my hearty, not found in those pages. Now a place for these."
As he spoke he drew from beneath his coat a heavy poke of gold, and also an empty one, on which appeared the two letters, "K. R." Presently his eye caught sight of the chest.
"That looks good; a most likely place, so in you go."
Lifting the cover, which was not locked, he beheld the picture lying in full view.
"Hello! what in h— is this? A picture, and a woman's! It's too dark here to see clearly. I must have more light. Ah, now I see," and he held the candle close down to the chest. "Well, well, I didn't know it had gone that far, but it only makes bigger game for me. Down underneath is the place for these, snug away in that corner, beneath this stuff. There, that's good."
No sense of shame or pity struck the villain's heart, as he gave one more swift glance at the sweet face before him ere he slammed down the cover. Then locking the chest he was about to put the key into his pocket.
"No, that won't do," he thought. "The stove's the best place for you. There, down among the coals and ashes, away out of sight."
He then started to leave the building, and had almost reached the door, when his eye fell upon a picture standing upon the rough deal table. He stopped and went back. The photograph was that of a sweet-faced woman and two lovely children, a boy and a girl.
Pritchen looked at them curiously for an instant. "Long time since I've seen you, Nellie. I expect you don't look so young and fresh now, and the kids must be well grown up. Here's to the d— breed, with all their saintly, pious ways. I'm done with you all—all except one, by God, and he'll soon be finished."
Seizing the picture in his hand, he tore it to pieces, threw the fragments into the stove, and, turning, left the building.