Then she turned her head away from them, and once more there was for a few moments a heavy silence in the room. It cost the girl a painful effort to sit still, apparently unmoved, but there was strength in her, and she would not betray her distress. She felt that the latter must be quietly grappled with. It was almost overwhelming, horribly acute, but there was mingled with it a faint consolatory thrill of pride, for it was clear that the man who had loved her had done a splendid thing. He had given all that had been given him—and she knew she would never forget that phrase of his—willingly, and it seemed to her that the gifts he had been entrusted with were rare and precious ones—steadfast, unflinching courage, compassion, and the fine sense of honour which had sent him out on that forlorn hope. He had gone down, unyielding and undismayed—she felt curiously sure of that—amidst the blinding snow, but this was his vindication which had crowned him with immortal laurels.
Then Mrs. Hastings rose, and set food before Dampier, while by and bye Sproatly and Winifred arrived and were told the story. After that Dampier, who seemed to be a man of tact, stood up. He had already, when asked by Mrs. Hastings, promised to stay with them a day or two.
"Well," he said, "it seems to me you'll naturally want to talk over things. If you'll excuse me, I'll take a stroll across the prairie."
He went out, and Hastings who lighted his pipe lay back in his chair and looked at the rest.
"Harry's friends are numerous, but we're, perhaps, the nearest, and, as Dampier said, we have to consider things," he said. "To begin with, there's a certain possibility that he has escaped, after all."
He saw the little abrupt movement that Agatha made, and went on rather more quickly.
"Gregory, of course, has control at the Range until we have proof of Harry's death, though the latter made a proviso that if there was no word of the party within eighteen months after he had sailed, or within six months of the time Dampier had landed him, we could assume it, after which the will he handed me would take effect," he added. "This, it is evident, leaves Gregory in charge for some months yet, but it seems to me it's our duty to see he doesn't fling away Harry's property. I've reasons for believing that he has been doing it lately."
He looked at Sproatly, who sat silent a moment or two.
"I'm rather awkwardly placed," the latter said at length. "You see, there's no doubt that I'm indebted to Gregory."
Winifred turned to him with impatience in her eyes. "Then," she said severely, "you certainly shouldn't have been, and it ought to be quite clear that nobody wishes you to do anything that would hurt him." She looked at Hastings. "In case the will takes effect, who does the property go to?"