Crestwick subsided with an indulgent grimace, but when they retired to their shelter Lisle turned upon him.
“It struck me that those jokes of yours were in what you would call uncommonly bad form,” he said. “It would be better if you didn’t make any more of them.”
“Bella doesn’t mind; she’s used to me,” Crestwick grinned.
“I wasn’t referring to Bella—she has somebody to take care of her.”
“And Miss Gladwyne hasn’t? Still, that’s her own fault, isn’t it? In my opinion, she has only to say the word.” He paused, seeing his companion’s face in the moonlight, for its expression was not encouraging. “Oh, well!” he added, “you needn’t lose your temper. There are people who can never see when a thing’s humorous; I’ll wind up.”
In the meanwhile Millicent sat in the entrance of her tent, looking out between the dark trunks of the cedars on the glittering river. It sluiced by, lapping noisily upon the shingle, lined with streaks of froth, and the roar of the neighboring fall filled the lonely gorge. The wildness of her surroundings had its charm; she had been happier among them than she had been at any time during the last twelve months in England, and now she was uneasily conscious of the reason. Lisle’s constant watchfulness over her comfort, his cheery conversation, even the sight of him when he was too busy to talk, were strangely pleasant. She realized why she had made him take the harder way in helping her down from the rock and the knowledge was disconcerting. She had been afraid to trust herself to the clasp of his arms, but not because of any want of confidence in him.
Then she saw Carew kiss Bella among the cedars before she left him to walk toward the tent, and the sight stirred her blood. It was clear that she must be on her guard; her guide must be kept firmly at a distance, though this promised to be difficult. She was, to all intents and purposes, pledged to Clarence; and until Bella joined her she tried to fix her thoughts on him, wondering where he was and what he was doing, without being able to find much interest in the question.
As it happened, Clarence was then sitting in a luxurious parlor-car as a big west-bound train sped through the forests of Ontario, but his face was troubled and he felt ill at ease. A little more than a fortnight earlier he had met Marple at a Swiss hotel, and the man had informed him that Miss Gladwyne and Miss Hume had sailed for Canada. Nasmyth, he added, had gone by a previous steamer, to make arrangements for some journey they wished to undertake. This was the first intimation Clarence had received. Millicent had written to him on the day before she sailed, but the letter, following him to one of the Italian valleys, had not yet reached him, and he was filled with consternation. She had stolen away, as if she did not wish to be burdened with his company; she was going to visit the scene of her brother’s death, no doubt under the guidance of Lisle, who had strong suspicions concerning it. He might communicate them to Millicent; perhaps he had done so already, which would account for her silent departure. With an effort Gladwyne roused himself to action. He made up his mind to follow her and, if necessary, attempt some defense. Perhaps, he thought, he could manage to destroy any evidence of his treachery which the Canadian had discovered.
Still, he was tormented by doubts as he lounged in the parlor-car, and, growing restless, he went out on the rear platform and lighted a cigar. There was faint moonlight, and dim trees fled past him; the rattle of wheels and the rush of the cool wind was soothing. He could not think while he stood holding on by the brass rail to protect himself against the lurching, and he found a relief in the roar as the great train swept across a foaming river. They had been detained at a junction during the afternoon, and the engineer was evidently bent on making up the wasted time.
Presently the door of the next car opened, and Gladwyne started violently as a dark figure came out on to the platform.