“Didn’t you mention last night that it was through Miss Horsfield you got the tug?” he asked. “I was thinking about something else at the time.”
“Yes,” said Carroll. “She made Horsfield put some pressure on the people who had previously hired the boat.”
“Ah!” said Vane, “that’s rather strange.”
For a moment he looked puzzled, but almost immediately his face grew impassive, and Carroll knew that he had some idea of Jessie’s treachery. He was, however, sure that any suspicions his comrade entertained would remain locked up in his breast.
“I’m grateful to her, anyway,” the latter resumed. “I believe I could have held out another day or two, but it wouldn’t have been pleasant.”
Carroll began to talk about the preparations for their return, which he soon afterwards set about making, and early next morning they started for the sloop, carrying Vane upon a stretcher they had brought. Though they had to cut a passage for it every here and there, they reached the vessel safely, and after some trouble in getting him below and on to a locker, Carroll decided to sail straight for Vancouver. They were favoured with moderate fair winds, and though the boat was uncomfortably crowded, she made a quick passage and stole in through the Narrows as dusk was closing down one tranquil evening.
As it happened, Evelyn had spent part of the afternoon on the forest-crested rise above the city, up which new dwellings were then creeping, though they have, no doubt, spread beyond it and back into the bush by now. From there she could look down upon the inlet and she had visited the spot frequently during the last few days, watching eagerly for a sail that did not appear. There had been no news of Carroll since the skipper of the tug reported having landed him, and the girl was tormented by doubts and anxieties. She had just come back and was standing in Mrs. Nairn’s sitting-room, when she heard the tinkle of the telephone bell. A moment or two later her hostess entered hastily.
“It’s a message from Alec,” she cried. “He’s heard from the wharf: Vane’s sloop’s crossing the harbour. I’ll away down to see Carroll brings him here.”
Evelyn turned to follow her, but Mrs. Nairn waved her back. “No,” she said firmly, “ye’ll bide where ye are. See they get plenty lights on—at the stair-head and in the passage—and the room on the left of it ready.”
She was gone in another moment and Evelyn, who carried out her instructions, afterwards waited with what patience she could assume. At last there was a rattle of wheels outside, followed by a voice giving orders, and then a tramp of feet. The sounds brought her a strange inward shrinking, but she ran to the door, and saw two tattered men awkwardly carrying a stretcher up the steps, while Carroll and another assisted them. Then the light fell upon its burden, and half prepared as she was, she started in dismay. Vane, whom she had last seen in vigorous health, lay partly covered with an old blanket which had slipped off him to the waist, and his jacket looked a mass of rags. His hat had fallen aside, and his face showed hollow and worn and pinched. Then he saw her and a light sprang into his eyes, but next moment Carroll’s shoulder hid him, and the men plodded on towards the stairs. They ascended them with difficulty, and the girl waited until Carroll came down.