She dropped the stove-iron in her hand with a startled cry. Fletcher blinked at us stupidly, and the old man sat down with one elbow on the table and his head drooping forward limply, while for a moment or two afterward no one moved, and the ticking of a nickeled clock almost maddened me. Then the woman came forward timidly with the word “Father” on her lips, and Lee, groaning as though in pain, checked her with a gesture. “Who is this man here, lass?” he said.
“My husband, Thomas Fletcher; you ought to remember him. We were married before I left home,” she said.
Harry coughed, while Lee said hoarsely: “I thank the Lord for it; lass, thou hast acted cruelly, but we’ll say no more of that. I’ve left all I had to find thee, and now I’m only glad.”
There were tears in Minnie’s eyes as she leaned over him with one arm round his shoulder, but I fancied there was a flash of resentment in them too.
“If you had listened that night before you said what you did, all might have been different,” she answered. “But I’m so glad to see you, and hungry for news. How did you leave mother, and the shop? I don’t care to hear about the chapel.”
“Thy mother is dead. The Lord took her,” the old man answered solemnly, though as yet the warmth brought only pain to him. “I’ll hear no word against the chapel. Nay,” as the woman straightened herself with a cry, “she grieved sorely; but it was the typhoid, and to the last she would hear no ill of thee. The shop, I sold it; and maybe there’s harness to mend, and saddles, that will earn my bread in this country. I’m an old broken man, and a little will content me. A weary time of struggle and black shame 104 I’ve suffered for thee; but now there’s nought that matters when I find thee so.”
“We must go,” I said. “Our team is freezing and we can’t afford to lose it;” and Minnie, touching her father, said, “You should thank Mr. Lorimer. Forty miles at least he has driven to-day, and there’s another fifteen before him;” but ere he could turn I bundled Harry out of the door, and two minutes later we were flying across the prairie.
“I’m sorry for the old man,” said Harry. “Fletcher didn’t look delighted, and perhaps it’s not to be wondered at. As to Minnie, she’ll probably cry over him all night; but I hardly fancy she has quite forgiven him. It’s not a nice thing, either, when you think of it. And I suppose it cost the old fanatic a fearful wrench to give up what he considered his mission to reform that benighted town. Lord, what fools—it’s true—we mortals are.”
I was too drowsy and cold to answer, and how we got the team into the stables or even found Fairmead I do not remember; but we probably did it by force of habit, and it was high noon the next day before we awakened.