Millicent smiled, the tension suddenly slackened, and as the packer who cooked was away with his comrade, they all set about preparing a meal which, thanks to Batley, was eaten amid a flow of lively conversation. The man was weary, but he could rise to an occasion and summon to his aid a genial wit. Clarence was glad of this; fatigue had reacted on him, increasing his anxiety, and he had been chilled by the coldness of his reception. Even the cordiality his companions now displayed was suspicious, because it suggested that they wished to atone for something that had previously been lacking. He ate, however, and talked when he found an opportunity, and afterward acquiesced when Millicent declined to be drawn away from the others.
When the meal was finished, they sat close together about the fire, for coldness came with the dusk, but by degrees the conversation languished. The increasing chill, the gloom and the desolation of their surroundings affected them all; and nobody had been quite at ease since Gladwyne’s arrival. He was too tired to make more than spasmodic attempts to talk, and though Millicent was sorry for him she could not help contrasting him with Lisle. She had seen the latter almost worn out with severe labor, but even then he had been cheerful, ready to encourage his companions with lively badinage. He seemed to take pleasure in forcing his body to the utmost strain it could bear.
The light had died away into the partial obscurity which would last until sunrise when Lisle walked into camp. The fire had burned up, and Millicent saw his start and his face set hard at the sight of Gladwyne.
“This is a surprise,” he said. “When did you get here?”
“About two hours ago. We found where you left the water and followed up your trail,” Gladwyne answered.
“How many packers and what stores did you bring?”
“Two packers,” replied Gladwyne. “There were no more available at the last settlement. Batley has a list of the provisions—we cut them down as much as possible. As we were anxious to overtake you, we traveled light.”
Lisle took the list Batley gave him and examined it by the glow of the fire.
“It looks as if you didn’t mind endangering the safety of the whole party,” he broke out. “This expedition is already quite large enough, and you add four people to it with less than half the necessary stores, so that you could save yourself a little trouble on the journey! What’s more important, we can’t make up for the shortage by better speed. Only two of you can pack an average load, though all four must be fed.”
Millicent had listened, hot with anger and a little surprised. Lisle had his faults, including a shortness of temper, but he was now showing a strain of what she considered primitive barbarism which he had hitherto concealed. A cultured Englishman would have led Clarence aside or waited for an opportunity before remonstrating with him; and then her face burned as she wondered whether Lisle had been actuated by savage jealousy. It was, however, insufferable that he should display it in this fashion.