“I haven’t quite finished, though I don’t often talk like this,” Bella went on. “I feel that without the confidence I’ve tried to describe marriage must be a terrible risk—one might find such ugly qualities in the man; even defects you could forgive beforehand would become so much worse when you had to suffer because of them. Of course, one can’t expect perfection, but there ought to be something—honor, a good heart, a generous mind—that one can rely on as a sure foundation. When you have that, you can build, and even then the building may be difficult.” She paused before she concluded: “My dear, I’m happier than I deserve to be; I have chosen wisely.”
Nothing more was said for a few minutes, but Bella, studying her companion’s face, was more or less content. Millicent’s faith in Clarence was weak, she was forcing herself to believe in him; it might be possible to make her see her lover in his true character, though Bella had not yet determined on the exact course she would adopt. Then Carew called from the camp and she went back, while Millicent sat still with grave doubts in her heart. Bella’s faith in her husband was warranted, and Millicent was enough of an optimist to believe that such men were not uncommon—there was Lisle, for example, and Nasmyth. With them one would undoubtedly have something to build a happy and profitable life upon—but what could be done with one in whom there was no foundation, only the shifting sands of impulses, or, perhaps, unsounded depths of weakness into which the painfully-raised edifice might crumble? She stove to convince herself that she was becoming wickedly hypercritical, thinking treasonably of her lover, particularly in contrasting him with her guide. There must be no more of that, and she rose and walked back to her tent with a resolution that cost her an effort.
In the meanwhile Lisle and Nasmyth were pushing on as fast as possible along the stony summit of the ridge. There was moonlight, which made it a little easier, but they stumbled every now and then. Here and there they were forced to scramble down the sides of a gully and on reaching the bottom to plunge into water, and once they had to scramble some distance shut in by the rocks before they could find a means of ascending. Still, they were hard and inured to fatigue, and they never slackened the pace. When striding along a stretch of smoother ground Nasmyth gathered breath to speak.
“We were easily taken in,” he declared; “though the thing was cunningly planned. Gladwyne took the packer with him and headed back at first, to divert suspicion. It would be easy enough to lose the man and turn down-stream again; and that he intended something of the kind is proved by his taking so much food with him. No doubt, he’d rather have avoided that, in case it looked suspicious, but he’s had one hungry march over the same ground, and I dare say it was quite enough. Besides, he could defy us once he’d emptied and obliterated the caches.”
“You understand the way your people’s minds work better than I do,” Lisle returned dryly.
“That’s natural, isn’t it? The idea that I’m most impressed with just now is that Millicent might believe it her duty to stick to Clarence more closely because of a tale that was merely damaging. She would never allow herself or anybody else to credit it, unless she had absolutely convincing proof.”
“Yes,” agreed Lisle; “I guess you’re right. That’s precisely why we have got to get there first.”
A thicket of thorny vines and canes barred his way, but he went straight at the midst of it and struggled through, savagely smashing and rending down the brush. The clothes he had borrowed from Carew looked considerably the worse for wear when he came out; and then he recklessly leaped across a dark cleft the bottom of which he could not see. Presently they left the ridge and headed away from the river, which flowed round a wide curve, and toward dawn they were brought up by a ravine. The roar of water rose hoarsely from its depths. The moon was getting low and the silvery light did not reach far down the opposite side, but they could see a sheer, smooth wall of rock, and the width of the chasm rendered any attempt to jump it out of the question.
“No way of getting across here,” decided Lisle. “At the same time, it looks as if Gladwyne must be held up on the same side that we are. We’ll follow the cañon; down-stream, I think.”
The moonlight was getting dimmer, but, at some risk of falling into the rift, they pushed on along the brink, looking down as they went. They could see no means of descending, but at length, when rocks and trees were getting blacker and a little more distinct in the chilly dawn, they made out a fallen trunk with broken white branches lying upon a tall mass of rock below.