“I don’t think we need be anxious,” he said. “The warmth is coming back to him and he’s breathing regularly. The knock on the head must have been a bad one, and it’s very likely that he got another thump or two washing down the rapid, and the water was icy cold; but he’ll feel better after a few hours’ sleep.”
Nasmyth was inclined to agree with this prediction and he stood up wearily.
“Then you won’t want me for a little while,” he replied, walking away from the fire.
Having given most of his clothes to Lisle, he was very lightly clad and the night was cold. He shivered as he plodded over the shingle, aching in every limb, but he looked about eagerly and after a while he found the cache. It was uncovered, but there were signs that Gladwyne had only begun his task when he had been surprised by the arrival of the party which had followed him.
Nasmyth did not pause to think what Lisle’s wishes might be, or whether he would resent his action. So far, he had kept his promise; but, with physical weariness reacting on his mental faculties, he was only conscious of a hazy idea that Gladwyne’s death had released him from his pledge. The traitor had expiated his offense; the tragic story must never be raked up again.
Stooping over the receptacle, he dragged out the different articles in it, and avoiding a direct glance at them or any attempt to enumerate them, he gathered them up and striding over the shingle hurled them as far as possible into the river. It cost him several journeys, but his heart grew lighter with every splash. When at last the work was finished and he had refilled the hole and scattered the stones that had covered it, he sat down with a great sense of relief. A burden which had long weighed upon his mind was gone; Mrs. Gladwyne and Millicent were safe at last from the grief and shame that a revelation would have brought them. Exhausted and confused as he was, he could not tell whether he felt any sorrow for Gladwyne’s tragic end; the man had passed beyond the reach of human censure, one could only let his memory sink into oblivion.
Growing very cold, he went back to the fire, but he offered no explanation of his absence. Lisle was still asleep or unconscious, but the natural color in his face was reassuring.
“I’ve heard nothing about your part in the water,” Nasmyth said to Batley.
“There’s not much to tell. It isn’t astonishing that my memory’s by no means clear. Anyhow, I wasn’t far from Gladwyne, who was swimming well, when he was swept away from me and in among the lower boulders by the swirl of an eddy. I suppose it didn’t quite reach me, but the next moment I was sucked into a rush of broken water and went down-stream, below the surface part of the time, because I was surprised when I found I could breathe and look about again. By good luck, I’d got into the smoothest, deepest flow, which swept me straight through. After a little, I saw somebody washing down in a slack and got hold of him. I didn’t know whether it was Gladwyne or Lisle; but I held on and a side-swing of the current brought us both ashore. Gladwyne, of course, must have gone under after being badly damaged among the rocks.”
“There’s only one place where he could have landed and I searched it while you were away,” Crestwick said gravely.