Carmen's Messenger

by Harold Bindloss

XXXII

FEATHERSTONE APOLOGIZES

Three days afterwards, Foster entered the office of the Hulton Company, where the head and treasurer of the firm waited him. It was late in the evening when he arrived, but the private office was filled with the softened throb of machinery and rumble of heavy wheels. Otherwise it was very quiet and cut off by a long passage from the activity of the mill.

Hulton gave him his hand and indicated a chair. "You have got thinner since you took your holiday and look fined down. Well, I reckon we all feel older since that night last fall."

"I do," said Foster, and added: "The mill seems to be running hard."

"She's going full blast. We've had plans for extension standing over until I could give my mind to them. I may be able to do so soon, and expect to consult you and Featherstone. In the meantime, I got your telegram and another that to some extent put me wise. But I want a full account, beginning when you left."

Foster told his story, and when he stopped, Hulton pondered for a minute or two. He somehow looked more human than on Foster's last visit; his stern vindictiveness was not so obvious, but Foster thought he would demand full retribution. Then he said—

"You are keeping something back; I reckon you haven't taken these chances on my account. There's something behind all this that concerns you—or your partner—alone. Well, I guess that's not my business."

He paused and resumed in a curt, businesslike manner: "Daly's tale is plausible and may be true, but I have my doubts. Anyhow, I'm not going to believe it because that doesn't suit my plans. We'll have Walters tried for murder."

"Although you admit he may be innocent!" exclaimed Foster. "It ought to be enough to charge him with trying to kill Featherstone and stealing your bonds. You have no evidence to convict him of the other crime."

Hulton smiled. "I don't care two bits if he's convicted or not. I want to clear my boy's name and put you into the witness-box."

"But you can't make me adapt my story to fit your charge, and the defending lawyer would object to Daly's account as hearsay and not evidence. The judge would rule it out."

"I guess so," Hulton agreed. "For all that, it would have some effect, and the judge couldn't rule it out before it was heard." He knitted his brows and looked hard at Foster. "I'm going to prove that Fred was robbed and was not the thief, and though I don't think Walters will be convicted, he must take his chance. He was one of the gang that caused my son's death, and when he tried to kill your partner knew what he was up against."

Foster thought this was frontier justice and urged another objection.

"After all, the matter's in the hands of the police. You can't dictate the line they ought to take."

Percival, the treasurer, smiled, and Hulton answered with some dryness: "That's true, in a way. But I have some influence, which will be used for all it's worth. Anyhow, I've got to be consulted. If it hadn't been for my agents, the police wouldn't have made much progress yet. However, we'll let this go. It may interest you to know that Daly's gone for good. Read him the night letter, Percival."

It is usual in Canada to allow lengthy telegrams, called night letters, to be sent at a very moderate charge when the lines are disengaged after business hours, and the treasurer picked up a form. The message related the careful search for Daly's body, which had not been found. The snow for some distance on both sides of the river was undisturbed; there was no sign that an injured man had crawled away, and if this were not enough, no stranger had reached any of the scattered ranches where he must have gone for food. Daly would not be found until the ice broke up.

"I expect you're glad the fellow can't be brought to trial," Hulton remarked, looking hard at Foster.

"I am," said Foster quietly.

Hulton made a sign of understanding and there was faint amusement in his eyes.

"Well, you have a good partner. I like Featherstone; he's a live, straight man, and if he had trouble in England, has made good here. But he has his limits; I reckon you'll go further than he will."

"No," said Foster. "I don't think you're right, but if you are, I'll take my partner along with me, or stay behind with him."

"What are you going to do now?" Percival asked.

"Stop at the Crossing and see about starting the mill."

Hulton nodded. "I guess that's the best thing. When you have got her started, come and see what we want. I think that's all in the meantime."

Foster left them and began work next day. He wrote to Lawrence telling him of his plans, but got no answer for a week, when a telegram arrived.

"Come out if you can leave the mill. You're wanted here," it ran.

Foster was puzzled, because he thought the summons would have come from Lucy if Lawrence was ill. Yet the latter knew he was occupied and ought not have sent for him unless he was needed. On the whole, he felt annoyed. Lawrence, who was sometimes careless, should have told him why he was required, and he could not conveniently leave the mill.

Since he had found his partner, he had realized how wide, in a social sense, was the difference between Alice Featherstone and a small Canadian lumber dealer, and had, with characteristic determination, resolved to bridge the gap. This meant bold planning and strenuous effort, but he shrank from neither and meant his partner to help. Lawrence, although resolute enough when things went against them, sometimes got slack when they were going well, and Foster understood that Lucy Stephen had money. For all that, if Lawrence was unwilling to keep pace with him, he must be dragged. Foster frowned as he put off matters that needed prompt attention until his return, and then sent a telegram and caught the next west-bound train.

When he got down at the flag station his annoyance returned. If there was any ground for his being sent for, he ought to have been told, and if there was not, he had been caused a loss of time that could have been well employed. He resolved to tell Lawrence his views upon this as he took the road to the hotel, but stopped with a beating heart when he entered the veranda.

Lawrence lounged negligently in a big chair and greeted him with a smile, but his father, Mrs. Featherstone, and Alice sat close by, with Mrs. Stephen and Lucy in the background. It cost Foster something of an effort to preserve his calm, but he advanced to Mrs. Featherstone, who gave him a look of quiet gratitude that repaid him for much. Featherstone welcomed him heartily, but with a touch of embarrassment, and then Foster thrilled as Alice gave him her hand. There was a curious quiet confidence in her level glance, as if she meant that she had known his promise would be kept. He did not remember what he said to Mrs. Stephen and Lucy, but was grateful to Lawrence, who laughed.

"I imagined you'd get something of a surprise, Jake. In fact, when the train stopped I pictured you coming up the road as fast as you could, divided between anxiety and a determination to tell me what you thought. Before that, when I got your curt telegram, I told Alice I could see you frowning as you filled up the form."

"I didn't know Miss Featherstone was here," Foster replied awkwardly.

"That's obvious," Lawrence said, chuckling. "Candor's one of your virtues. But what about the rest of us?"

Foster wished he had been more tactful and thought his comrade's amusement might better have been restrained; but Lawrence resumed: "It must have been annoying to leave the mill when you had much to do. The curious thing is that when you set off from the Crossing with me you declared you were tired of working for dollars."

"Mr. Foster's tiredness didn't prevent him from working for his friends," Alice interposed.

"He must work, anyhow; that's the kind of man he is, and I don't suppose he was much disappointed when he got a strenuous holiday."

Then Featherstone turned to Foster. "I imagine we both dislike formal speeches and Lawrence, knowing this, means to smooth over our meeting. For all that, there's something to be said, and now, when the others are here, is the proper time. When we got your telegram in England I was overwhelmed by gratitude and regret. I saw, in fact, what a fool I had been." He paused with a gleam of amusement in his embarrassment. "Indeed, I'm not sure that the recognition of my folly wasn't the stronger feeling. Now I'm half-ashamed to apologize for my ridiculous suspicions and must ask you to forget all about them if you can."

"They were very natural suspicions, sir. I couldn't logically blame you and honestly don't think I did."

"Well," said Featherstone, "it's some comfort to reflect that my wife and daughter knew you better. I'm glad to think you're generous, because there is no amend I can make commensurate with the service you have done us."

"In one sense, it was an excellent joke," Lawrence remarked. "While Jake was lurking in the bogs and putting up with much unpleasantness on my account, he was suspected of making away with me for the sake of an old traveling bag, which was all he could have got. But don't you think, sir, there was something characteristic about his telegram? I mean the brief statement of his success."

"My relief was so great that I did not criticize the wording, which I'm not sure I remember," Featherstone replied.

Lawrence glanced at his mother. "I expect you remember it."

Mrs. Featherstone said nothing, but gave him a gentle, understanding smile.

Then Featherstone made Foster relate his last meeting with Daly on the train. Foster had no wish to harrow the listeners' feelings, but his memory was strangely vivid and he pictured the scene with unconscious dramatic power. They saw it all, as he had seen it; the background of flitting trees and glimmering snow, the struggle on the rocking platform, while the icy wind screamed past the car, and the dark figure filling, for a moment, the gap in the rails. Then they felt his thrill of horror when the gap was empty and Pete held up the torn necktie. Foster concluded with Pete's terse statement, "He just stepped back."

"Into the dark!" said Alice softly and there was silence for the next few moments.

"He made us suffer," Featherstone remarked. "But he had pluck and boldly took the best way. It is not for us to judge him now."

Then Lawrence leaned forward with a flushed face. "In the beginning, I made you suffer, and it might have been better if I had openly paid for my fault. We'll let that go; but there's something yet to be said." He stopped and looked at the others with badly suppressed emotion. "That I have escaped a fate like Daly's is due to the love and trust that was given me in spite of my offense, and my partner's unselfish loyalty."

Mrs. Featherstone looked at him with gentle approval and her husband said, "Lawrence has taken a very proper line; but I think this matter need not be spoken of again."

It was a relief to talk about something else, and by and by the party broke up. An hour or two later, Foster, who wanted to send his foreman some instructions, met Lucy in a passage as he was going to the writing-room. She stopped him and said, "I haven't thanked you, Jake; you were careful not to give me an opportunity, but you have banished a haunting fear I couldn't get rid of. You know what I mean—Lawrence told me his story. Now he is safe."

She stopped Foster, who began to murmur something. "This is not all I want to say. I am not the only person who loves Lawrence and owes you much. Don't be too modest; urge your claim."

Foster would not pretend he did not understand and looked at her steadily. "If I made a claim on such grounds, I should deserve to have it refused."

"Then choose better grounds, Jake; I think they can be found," Lucy answered with a smile. "But show what you want. You can't expect to have it offered, for you to pick up."

She went away, leaving him in a thoughtful mood, though his heart beat. Lucy was clever and would not have given him such a hint unless she thought it was justified. Still, she might be mistaken and he feared to risk too much; then there were other difficulties—he was not rich. He went to the writing-room, knitting his brows, and stopped abruptly when he found Alice there alone. She put aside a half-finished letter, as if she did not want him to go away, and he advanced to the table and stood looking down at her.

"I did not send the telegram stating that I had found Lawrence."

"No," she said, smiling, "I know you didn't. But why do you wish to explain this?"

Foster hesitated. "To begin with, it must have looked as if I wanted to boast about keeping my promise and hint that you owed me something."

"But you were glad you were able to keep your promise?"

"I was," said Foster; "very glad, indeed."

Alice gave him a quick glance that thrilled him strangely. "So Lawrence said for you what you would have liked to say yourself? One would imagine he knew your feelings."

"Yes," said Foster steadily, "I didn't tell him, but I think he did know."

He stopped and Alice looked down at the table for a moment. Then she looked up again and met his fixed gaze.

"After all, you would have liked to have my gratitude?"

There was something in her face that stirred his blood, and forgetting his drawbacks he made a reckless plunge.

"I wanted it tremendously, but it wasn't enough."

"Not enough! Aren't you rather hard to satisfy?" she asked with a hint of pride that deceived but did not stop him.

"I'm afraid I'm very rash," he answered quietly. "You see, I wanted your love; I wanted you. But I was afraid to ask."

She looked at him in a way he did not understand, although her manner enforced a curious restraint.

"Now I wonder why?"

"You're so beautiful! I durstn't hope you'd come down to my level.
I'd nothing to offer."

"You have unselfishness, loyalty, and unflinching steadfastness. Are these nothing?"

Foster felt embarrassed, but the sense of restraint was stronger.
Alice had somehow imposed it and he must wait until she took it away.
He thought she wanted him to finish.

"Then I knew my disadvantages. In many ways, Canada is a hard country, and I'm poor."

"Did you think that would count for very much? We are not rich at the
Garth."

"I seemed to know that if by any chance you loved me, you would not flinch. But there were other things; your upbringing and traditions. I couldn't hope your parents would agree."

Then Alice got up with a quiet grace he thought stately and stood facing him. There was a strange new softness in her eyes that had yet a hint of pride.

"I don't think I am undutiful, but it is my right to choose my husband for myself." She paused and his heart beat fast as he waited until she resumed: "The evening I came to the orchard I had chosen you."

He held out his hands with a low cry of triumph and she came to him.

Next morning Foster saw Featherstone, who listened without surprise, and then remarked: "It would perhaps have been better if you had come to me before the matter went so far; but I can't lay much stress on this. The times are changing."

"I couldn't, sir. You see, until last night——"

Featherstone nodded. "Yes, of course! But all that's done with. I can't understand how the absurd notion came into my mind."

"Things did look suspicious," said Foster, smiling.

"Well," resumed Featherstone, "except for that ridiculous interval, I liked you from the beginning, as did my wife. Besides, it would be very hard for either of us to refuse you anything, and if Alice is satisfied—But there's another consideration; I understand from Lawrence that your business is not large, and although Miss Stephen wants him to extend it, this won't augment your share. Well, you understand why I must ask you to wait a year, until we see how you get on."

Foster, having succeeded better than he expected, thanked him and agreed, and a few days later returned to the Crossing. The Featherstones were coming to stay there for a time, and business demanded his attention. He had long worked hard, but had now an object that spurred him to almost savage activity. He resented the loss of time when Walters was brought to trial and he had to attend the court. The man was sentenced for robbery, and Foster's evidence, although objected to by the defense, sufficed to prove that Fred Hulton had no complicity in the theft.

A few weeks later, when Featherstone and his family were at the
Crossing, Hulton sent for Foster.

"I suppose you won't want to sell the mill?" he asked.

"No," said Foster. "Business looks like booming and our chances are pretty good."

Hulton made a sign of agreement. "That's so. I reckon you could do a bigger trade than you have the money to handle. However, I guess you and Featherstone mean to continue the partnership?"

"Yes," said Foster, quietly, "we stick together."

"Although he is going to marry a lady who will invest some money in the business? If your friendship stands that test, it must be pretty sound. But I'd better state why I sent for you. Our trade is growing fast, and there's a risk of our running short of half-worked material. Well, if you won't sell your mill, you must enlarge it on a scale that will enable you to keep us going, besides coping with your other orders. I'm open to supply the capital, and have thought out a rough proposition. Give him the paper, Percival."

The treasurer did so, and Foster studied the terms with keen satisfaction.

"If there's anything you don't agree to, you can indicate it," Hulton remarked.

Foster hesitated. "It's a very fair and liberal offer. But I wouldn't like to take it, so to speak, as a reward. You see, I didn't———"

"Expect anything from me," Hulton suggested with dry amusement. "You were acting for Featherstone, but were willing to do me a favor! Anyhow, you can regard the thing as a plain business proposition. I get a number of advantages, besides good interest."

"Then I'll accept the main terms now, because I can promise for Featherstone," Foster replied. "If any alteration's needed, we can talk about it afterwards."

He left the office with a thrill of satisfaction. With Hulton's help, he and Lawrence could extend their operations and control a very profitable trade. Featherstone had told him he must wait a year, but by this stroke of luck he had made good when only a month had gone. Still, it was characteristic that he finished his day's work before he went to the hotel where the others were staying.

Featherstone frankly expressed his pleasure at the news, and afterwards Foster and Alice went out and stopped at the bridge on the outskirts of the town. There was a moon in the clear sky and the night was calm. 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. The scene held harsh contrasts between man's noisy activities and the silent austerity of the wilds.

"It's a grim country," Foster said. "But one gets fond of it."

Alice put her hand in his. "I think I shall love it; I'm not afraid, Jake. There's something in the clear air and sunshine that makes one brave. Then it's virgin country; waiting for you and the others to make good use of."

Foster nodded. "Something of a responsibility! Our efforts are crude yet and the signs of our progress far from beautiful, but we'll do better by and by. Well, I'm glad you're not daunted, though I don't think I really feared that." He paused for a moment with a smile of deep content. "To-day has banished my last anxiety; I'm a wonderfully lucky man!"

"Not altogether lucky, Jake, I think. Character counts for more than fortune, and you really won success by the stubbornness you showed in the Border bogs. It would have come sooner or later, if you hadn't met Hulton."

"I'm doubtful," Foster answered. "What I meant to win was you; but in a way, that's wrong. If you hadn't given yourself to me, it would have been impossible. Well, it has been a day of triumph, and now, if you are willing, we needn't wait very long."

Alice blushed and looked up with a shy smile. "When you want me, Jake,
I will be ready."