Ten days later the party were re-united at Martigny. The Fortescues had been there two days, having travelled faster than the Hawtreys had done. Captain Armstrong and Mr. Fitzwarren only turned up the next day; they had learnt at Lucerne the inn at which the Hawtreys intended to stay, and went straight there. The others were all absent on an excursion to the Col de la Forclaz, and did not return until late in the afternoon. Captain Armstrong and Mr. Fitzwarren were standing on the steps of the hotel when the three girls clattered up on donkeys, the elders having been left a quarter of a mile behind.
'How are you both?' Ada Fortescue, who had won the race by a length, said, as they came down the steps. 'No, thank you, Captain Armstrong, I can slip off without any assistance. We were talking of you this morning at breakfast, and wondering when you were likely to turn up.'
They stood talking at the door of the hotel until the others arrived.
'Which way have you come?' Mr. Hawtrey asked, after they had shaken hands.
'We went over the Brunig Pass to Interlaken; we stopped there a day or two and came from Thun over the Simmenthal to Aigle; we stayed there four days, and a day at St. Maurice, and got in here half an hour after you had started, and have since been for a stroll among the pines.'
'We were over at St. Maurice the day before yesterday.'
'It is splendid up here,' Ada Fortescue put in; 'we have been grumbling ever since we came because we did not come on here at once instead of spending those four days at Lucerne. It was all very lovely, but it was so hot one really could not enjoy it as one ought to have done. Up here it is so deliciously cool, at least except in the middle of the day, that one feels up to anything. I wish you could persuade papa to let us go up one of the mountains; not a difficult one, of course. At present mamma won't hear of it; though Mr. Hawtrey said he would go with us and Dorothy. I don't think papa would mind,' she added confidentially.
Captain Armstrong smiled. Mr. Fortescue was really but a cipher in the family. He accompanied his wife and daughters, and was very useful in looking after the luggage and paying bills, but his wife was the real manager of the party. She was not one of those women who assert their predominance over their husbands; upon the contrary, she made a point of consulting him on everything, but as his opinions were always in accord with hers, this was little more than a form. She herself, among her intimates, frequently bewailed her husband's disinclination to take a leading part in anything.
'It is a great disadvantage to the girls, for it compels me to put myself much more forward than I like. It is always bad for a mother to have to do so; it gets her the name of being a managing woman, and there is nothing men are more shy of.' And yet in spite of Mrs. Fortescue's disclaimer, there were people who believed that if Mr. Fortescue had had a chance there would have been no occasion for his wife to take matters so entirely in hand as she did. Within an hour of meeting Captain Armstrong and Mr. Fitzwarren, she had discussed the matter with her husband.
'I don't know what to think of these men coming here just as we have arrived. It must mean one thing or the other.'
Mr. Fortescue remarked that no doubt it did.
'Captain Armstrong is of course an excellent match,' she said. 'The question is, has he come here on his own account or on that of Mr. Fitzwarren? If on his own account, it must be in order to see more of one of our girls, or of Dorothy Hawtrey. On the other hand, Mr. Fitzwarren cannot be considered at all an eligible person; of course he is in society, and all that sort of thing, and is very well connected, but that won't keep up a household. It would not do at all, and I shall warn Ada and Clara that they are not to think of flirting with him, and that if I see any signs of them doing so we shall at once move away.'
'He is a very pleasant young man,' Mr. Fortescue said. 'I believe he has a good position in the Foreign Office, and is private secretary to Lord Wolverhouse.'
'Yes, that is all very well,' Mrs. Fortescue said, sharply, 'and I dare say it is a very good position for a clerk in a foreign office, but, as I said, it won't do to keep up an establishment, so I shall keep my eyes open.'
This Mrs. Fortescue did for the next four days, and the results were so far satisfactory that she assured herself that Mr. Fitzwarren had no design upon either of her daughters. He always made one of the party on their excursions, but divided his attentions equally between the three girls, and there was nothing in his manner that could excite the smallest suspicion, even in her mind, that he viewed one with a greater degree of preference than the other. Captain Armstrong appeared equally general in his attentions, and even Dorothy, who had felt at first a certain uneasiness when they joined, thought no more of the matter. He happened to be there when they were, and it was natural that he should attach himself to her party, and she soon ceased to feel at all shy with him or to think of him in any other light than as a pleasant companion in their rambles.
For the first week Mrs. Fortescue always formed one of the party, but as the walks extended and they went higher and higher up the hill-side she was glad, as soon as she felt that her suspicions of Mr. Fitzwarren's attentions were unfounded, to let them go under their father's escort. Mr. Singleton was the only person who complained.
'I wonder how long those two men are going to stay here,' he said to Mr. Hawtrey one day.
'I have not heard them say anything about it. I shall be sorry when they go, for they are both pleasant, and it makes it very much more agreeable for the girls to have them to go about with. Of course, when we take the carriage we all ride together, but I am sure the young people enjoy walking much more; they are capital climbers, and I can tell you they pretty nearly tire me out sometimes.'
'I don't care how soon they go, Hawtrey. You know what my hopes are about Dorothy, and I feel pretty confident that Armstrong has altogether different views on the matter. I have nothing to say against him personally; I admit that he is a downright good fellow. Every one knows he has a good estate, so I have nothing to say against him, except that I see he is doing his best to upset my special plans.'
'I have not seen anything of it at all. I did not notice on our walks that he was more with her than with the others. I imagine that it is only fancy on your part.'
'You do not suppose he would be wasting his time in rambling about here with three girls unless he had some sort of object. It is one of the three, and I have not the least doubt that it is Dorothy.'
'I don't fancy so, for—quite between ourselves, Singleton—I can tell you that she refused him some months since.'
'Umph,' Mr. Singleton grunted, 'that must have been just before she became engaged to Halliburn. Now he is out of the way again, and a better opportunity for love-making than Armstrong has got he could hardly desire.'
'I don't see that I can do anything in the matter, Singleton; even supposing that your suspicions are correct.'
'No, I don't suppose you can,' the other said irritably. 'If we were to go away he would come after us. If he means to ask the question he will ask it. And the worst of it is that he is such a good fellow, so unobjectionable in every way. But it is hard that while the other is spending his time in looking out for evidence that will completely clear Dorothy from these abominable charges, this man should be cutting in and making all the running here.'
'I don't think Dorothy suspects anything of the sort, Singleton.'
'No, I don't suppose she does; but a girl can't be thrown with a pleasant man day after day like this without getting to like him. I am sure she does not know it herself—she is too frank and natural with him; still when the time comes and he asks her the question again it will come upon her how much she does like him, and the contrast between him and Halliburn will be all in his favour. We might move to Chamounix. Pretend you are tired of this place, and see whether all the others will go too.'
'We may as well do that anyhow,' Mr. Hawtrey agreed. 'We have done pretty well all the walks and drives near here. It will be a change, anyhow.' And accordingly at breakfast next morning Mr. Hawtrey said, 'I think we have pretty well done this neighbourhood; it will be a change to move on to Chamounix. We could stay there for a week and then go on to Geneva.'
'I think that would be a very good plan,' Mr. Singleton put in. 'I own I am getting rather tired of this valley. It is all very well for you young people who can climb about among the hills, but I think I know the exterior of every house in the place, and have made the acquaintance of almost every man, woman, and child in it.'
Mr. Fortescue at once assented.
'It makes no difference to me,' Captain Armstrong said, carelessly, 'but I have been thinking for the last day or two that there would be more to be seen at Chamounix. I have rather an idea of climbing Mont Blanc. Fitzwarren finds that time is running short, and has made up his mind to turn his face homewards.'
After some farther talk it was arranged that the carriages should be ordered for the following morning. There was much regret expressed at Mr. Fitzwarren's departure, or as the girls called it, his desertion, but his determination was not to be shaken. He had talked it over with Armstrong on the previous evening when the latter had urged him to stay a week longer.
'I cannot afford it, my dear fellow,' he said. 'It is pleasant, very pleasant, but it is too dangerous a pleasure to be indulged in. However strict a man's principles may be, he's but human. Another week of this might be fatal to me. I cannot afford to marry Clara Fortescue, even if she would have me and her mother were willing, which, by the way, I am perfectly sure she would not be. The way she played duenna the first few days, would have been amusing if it had not been annoying. It was almost heroic. Whenever I happened to be a few yards ahead or a few yards behind with either of her girls, she would be certain to range alongside in the course of two or three minutes, and though naturally she did not express her feelings in words there was no possible mistaking her manner. She was the watch-dog, I was the wolf; and she was prepared to do battle to save her lambs from the devourer. At that time I had no idea of devouring, and indeed I have no idea now; nevertheless I am beginning to feel that the repast would not be an unpleasant one. Against the ordinary temptations that occur in ball-rooms and conservatories, at fêtes, and even country houses, I am proof, but this daily companionship, wandering, and picnicking is beyond me. My armour is giving way, and I feel that flight is the prudent course before I am too severely wounded.'
The next morning, therefore, he took his place on the diligence, and half-an-hour later two carriages started up the valley with the rest of the party. They had sent on a letter the previous day to secure rooms, and were comfortably established there late in the afternoon.
'The dinner-bell will ring in five minutes, Dorothy,' Mr. Hawtrey said, tapping at his daughter's door.
Dorothy was ready, and went down with him to the drawing-room. As they entered, she caught sight of Ada Fortescue's face, which wore a puzzled and disturbed look, and she gave what seemed to Dorothy a warning shake of the head. She moved across the room towards her chair to inquire what she meant. A gentleman stepped aside to make way for her. She looked up, and as their eyes met each gave a slight start, for it was Lord Halliburn who stood before her.
It was an awkward moment, but, as usual, the woman was the first to recover her presence of mind.
'How do you do, Lord Halliburn?' she said, cordially, holding out her hand. 'Who would have thought of our running against each other here?'
'Certainly I did not, Miss Hawtrey. I heard that you left town a fortnight before I did, but, though I had no particular reason for doing so, I supposed you had gone down to Lincolnshire. When did you arrive here?'
'Only half an hour ago; when did you come in?'
'Yesterday. I came up from Geneva.'
'We came the other way,' Mr. Hawtrey said. He had only just noticed whom Dorothy was speaking to, and had at once come up to her assistance. The three stood chatting together for a time.
'Terribly awkward—most unfortunate, is it not?' Mrs. Fortescue remarked to Mr. Singleton. 'It quite gave me a shock when I saw him come into the room just now.'
'I don't think it matters much, Mrs. Fortescue; there is no reason in the world why they should not meet, and they might just as well do so here as in London.'
'Do you think there is any chance of its coming on again?' the lady asked.
'Not the slightest in the world,' he replied curtly; then he rose from his seat and went across to the little group, who were directly afterwards joined by Ada Fortescue and her father.
As the party stood laughing and chatting together, no one unacquainted with the circumstances would have guessed that the meeting had been so embarrassing to two of the number.
'Are you wandering about by yourself, Halliburn, or are you with a party?' Mr. Hawtrey asked.
'Ulleswater and Dick Trafford are with me,' he replied. 'I suppose you have been all travelling together.'
'Yes, we first met at Lucerne; then we came on, and the Fortescues joined us at Martigny. Captain Armstrong and Fitzwarren were there too, so it made a pleasant party. Fitzwarren left us this morning; he was off home again.'
At dinner the two parties were at opposite ends of the long table.
'Deuced awkward for you, Halliburn,' Lord Ulleswater said.
'Oh, I don't know. I don't mind if she doesn't.'
'I should say we had better move on, anyhow, Halliburn. If it gets known that you are here together it is sure to be reported the affair is on again.'
'I certainly shan't run away. If I had known she was coming I should not have come here, but now we have met and spoken I don't see there will be anything gained by my leaving; besides, it would look as if I had done something to be ashamed of if I were to go directly they came.'
'I think perhaps you are right. She behaved very pluckily, I think. Clara Fortescue had just whispered to me she was here. I was coming across to warn you when she came in and I watched the meeting. I must say she pulled herself together wonderfully. It was an awkward moment for her, meeting you here so suddenly, with a dozen people who knew all about it looking on. I see Armstrong is sitting there with them as if he belonged to the party; he and the elder of those Fortescue girls seem to be on rather confidential terms.'
'That is Armstrong's way,' Lord Halliburn said; 'he means nothing, and by this time I should say that most of the girls know that he means nothing. I can't make out why he doesn't marry.'
Ada Fortescue at any rate understood that Captain Armstrong's manner at the present moment meant nothing; she had from the first detected that Dorothy Hawtrey was the attraction that kept him with the party, but she had said no word when her mother had frequently expressed her surprise at his prolonged stay at Martigny, and had cautiously endeavoured to learn her opinion on the subject. Ada's silence was due partly to a feeling of loyalty towards Dorothy, partly because she shrewdly conjectured that their own stay there was not unconnected with an idea in her mother's mind that something might come of it, and that did Mrs. Fortescue believe Dorothy to be the attraction, she would lose no time in leaving for England. Captain Armstrong said no word regarding the meeting with Lord Halliburn until she began the subject.
'Did you see the meeting, Captain Armstrong? I was on thorns. The Hawtreys are not on the same side of the hotel as we are, but if I had known which her room was, I should have made some excuse to slip away and warn her; however, it did not matter; she behaved beautifully, didn't she?'
Captain Armstrong nodded. 'It is a nuisance his turning up here,' he said; 'but I don't think she cares. Do you, Miss Fortescue?'
'No, I don't think she does. If she had done so, I don't think she could have been so cool and collected all at once. I am sure I couldn't if I had been in her place. She met him just as she might have met any intimate acquaintance.'
'If he has got any common sense,' Captain Armstrong growled, 'he will be off the first thing to-morrow morning.'
Ada was silent.
'Don't you think so?' he urged.
'Well it all depends. I know nothing about why the match was broken off, beyond that paragraph in the paper that said it was her doing, and Dorothy has never alluded to it when we have been together. It depends, I should think, whether he cared very much for her. I suppose he did. It seems to me that everyone must love Dorothy Hawtrey. If so he may think it worth trying whether he cannot bring it on again.'
Captain Armstrong muttered something between his lips that she did not catch.
'I am almost sure you are swearing, Captain Armstrong, and that is very bad manners. Still I don't say that I shouldn't swear if I were a man and all this happened, so I forgive you.'
'We have had such a pleasant time,' he said ruefully, 'and if this fellow is going to stay here I can see it is all going to be spoilt.'
'I don't see why it should be spoilt. At any rate I am sure that if Dorothy broke off the match, she is not the sort of girl to make it up again. It must be an awful thing to break off an engagement when everyone is aware of it, and you know it will set everyone talking. I don't think I could ever bring myself to do it. I think Dorothy has put it quite aside; I have seen so much of her in the last fortnight, and if there had been anything on her mind I should have noticed it.'
'She coloured up when they met.'
'Of course she coloured up. You don't suppose, Captain Armstrong, a girl can suddenly meet a man she has been engaged to and has been fond of—for of course she was fond of him—and who has been acting as lover to her for weeks, and all that sort of thing, without the colour coming into her cheeks. It did not last a moment either. It just came and went. I am sure if it had been me, even if I had ceased to care for him, my cheeks would have flared up, and I should have been hot and uncomfortable for hours afterwards.'
'I should not think he was ever very lover-like,' Captain Armstrong said, savagely; 'I don't think he has got it in him.'
'I don't know,' Ada said, demurely. 'I have never been engaged, Captain Armstrong; so I can't say what men do under such circumstances. I believe—I suppose that they do take what novelists call a chaste salute sometimes. Now, if you swear like that, Captain Armstrong, I shall sit between papa and mamma at the next meal. It is downright scandalous!'
'I really beg your pardon, Miss Fortescue,' Captain Armstrong said, penitently, 'but there are certain provocations under which even the mildest of men may be excused for breaking down.'
'I do not see where the provocation comes in,' she said; 'we were merely discussing the conduct of engaged couples in general, and of Lord Halliburn in particular.'
'I would rather not discuss the matter at all. I have nothing whatever to say against him; he may be an excellent fellow for anything I know, but at the present moment it is distinctly unfortunate that he has turned up here, and I hope he will have the common sense to see it himself, and to start the first thing in the morning.'
But this Lord Halliburn did not do; he and his two friends started early for the Mer de Glace, while the Hawtreys' party went off on mules in another direction. After dinner the men met in the balcony and smoked their cigars together, the only absentee being Captain Armstrong, who went for a walk by himself. On the following day the Hawtreys determined to visit the Mer de Glace. Mr. Singleton and Mrs. Fortescue declined to form part of the expedition; the others took two guides with them, as the ice was said to be in bad condition. They started at six in the morning, and made a considerable portion of the ascent on mules. When they reached the edge of the glacier, the guides, who had been consulting together as they led the way, said that they should not advise them going far, for the weather looked bad. Mont Blanc was wreathed in clouds, and the other peaks were also hidden.
'What do you expect, Giuseppe?' Mr. Hawtrey asked. 'There is no wind, and the clouds do not look any lower than they did an hour ago.'
'The storms here are very sudden,' the guide replied, 'and when they do sweep down they come with terrible violence, and Conrad and I both think there may be snow. With these ladies it would not be safe to venture far on the ice.'
'Well, we will only go as far as you think it safe. It would be a pity to have had this climb for nothing.'
'All must keep together,' the guide said; 'let there be no straying. The snow, over some of the crevasses, is very thin and treacherous.'
On they went for some distance, admiring the ice pinnacles, leaning over crevasses, and peering down into the depths where the deep blue of the ice walls shaded off into blackness. The guides went ahead, sounding carefully the snow before them for a few inches, the first precursor of coming change, had fallen two days before. Suddenly one of the guides uttered an exclamation.
'See,' he said, 'the clouds are coming down the mountains. We have not a moment to lose; it will be on us now before we are off the glacier.'
The sun was still shining brightly, and the parties, as they turned, glanced somewhat incredulously up the mountain.
'By Jove, it is coming down,' Captain Armstrong exclaimed. 'It is more like an avalanche of snow than clouds.'
A minute later there was a faint moaning sound, which grew louder and louder.
'Stand close together and take a firm footing,' the guide exclaimed. 'The storm will be on us in a minute. Look after the ladies, messieurs!'
The warning was scarcely out of his lips when there was an icy blast. It lasted but a second or two, and it was succeeded by a dead calm. Then a mighty wind struck them with such violence that they were nearly swept from their feet, while particles of ice, pricking like needles, forced them to close their eyes, and hold down their heads before the blast. The sun disappeared, and at the same moment they were enveloped in a dense mist. Clara Fortescue had clung to her father's arm, and Ada, who was with Captain Armstrong a few paces in the rear, hurried forward towards them, but the storm struck them before they reached them. Unprepared for the sudden shock, Ada would have been swept before it had not her companion clasped his arm around her. 'You must just fancy that we are waltzing,' he shouted in her ear. 'Cling tight to me; this can't last long.' And with great difficulty he dragged her along until they reached the others.
'That is better,' Mr. Fortescue said, as they arranged the shawls to cover the girls' heads. 'We will take care of them, Armstrong, if you will ask the guides how long this is likely to last.'
The guides were but two or three paces away, with alpenstocks firmly planted in the ice and their heads bent down to meet the force of the gale. They were talking together when Captain Armstrong joined them.
'Is this likely to last?' he asked in French.
'It may last for twenty-four hours,' the guide said.
'Then we must be moving; the ladies could not stand this cold an hour.'
'It is no easy matter,' the guide said, 'when one cannot see three paces in front of one. Still we must try; as you say it would be death to the ladies to stop here, and indeed for all of us. We have only one rope with us; we did not expect this when we started. It is not long enough for all. I will be tied at one end, Giuseppe will go ahead and lead the way, the three ladies and one of the gentlemen will be tied to the rope behind me, the other two had better walk between the ladies and hold the rope.'
'I will give them instructions. I have been up some of the mountains.'
The guide fastened the rope round the girls and Mr. Fortescue. 'Now, you must all understand,' Captain Armstrong said, 'if one goes through, those in front must stick their alpenstocks in the ice and throw their whole weight on the rope forward, those behind must do the same with their alpenstocks, but must stick their heels in the snow and pull backwards on the rope.'
Ada Fortescue was placed next to the guide, and was followed by Dorothy, whose father took hold of the rope a yard or two in front of her, while Captain Armstrong stationed himself between her and Clara, behind whom came her father. Then they began to move forward in the teeth of the gale. Giuseppe went ahead, feeling his way cautiously. The mist was so thick that he could not see the ground he trod on. Talking was impossible, for it was difficult to breathe in face of the wind and fine snow. It was slow work, and in five minutes Captain Armstrong passed forward and joined the guide in front.
'The wind is more on our right hand,' he shouted; 'do you think we are keeping our course?'
'The wind is no guide,' the man replied. 'It comes down sometimes one gorge, sometimes another; we may have it all round the compass.'
In 1850 mountaineering was almost in its infancy. The ascent of Mont Blanc was considered a great feat, and as yet no woman had undertaken it. The ice-fields and peaks were still almost unknown, and the guides had not, as now, an intimate acquaintance with every foot of the mountains. The danger of being lost in a fog or storm was, therefore, infinitely greater than at present.
Several times Giuseppe was doubtful as to the true course, and the party halted while he made short casts in various directions. The girls' strength became rapidly exhausted; the icy wind seemed to deaden all their energies. Mr. Fortescue had moved up alongside his youngest daughter to help her along. Mr. Hawtrey had his arm round Dorothy, and Captain Armstrong was assisting Ada.
Several times the whole party stopped and stood with their backs to the wind to recover their breath. At last Giuseppe gave a shout, and the others were soon beside him. He was standing under the shelter of some rocks which projected through the glacier.
'I know where I am now,' he said. 'We have not gone far from our course; another ten minutes and we shall be at the edge of the glacier.'
This was welcome news to the men, but to the girls it seemed that it would be impossible to struggle even for ten minutes further. All had sunk down close together in the shelter.
'You must not stop here,' Mr. Hawtrey said; 'you can have two or three minutes to recover your breath, but you must keep moving or you will be frozen to death.'
Is it necessary to be roped any further, Giuseppe?' Captain Armstrong asked.
'Not necessary, monsieur, but it is better to continue so; it keeps all together, and were any to lag behind it would be certain death, for our shouts could not be heard any distance away in this gale.'
Clara was unable to rise when the guide said they must no longer delay.
'I must carry her,' her father said.
'I will carry her, monsieur; I am accustomed to carry burdens. If you will lift her on to my back I can fasten the shawl round me so that she cannot fall. If another gives way, Conrad will take her; if the third, then two of you together must help her. That will do; let us go forward.'
Five minutes later Ada Fortescue sank down, in spite of the assistance Captain Armstrong was giving her. Conrad at once unroped her and took her on his back.
'Now, Mr. Hawtrey,' Captain Armstrong said, 'if you put your arm round your daughter on one side and I on the other we can pretty well carry her along.'
It was soon necessary to carry her altogether.
'I will take her feet,' Mr. Fortescue, who was beside them, said; 'we shall get along capitally like that. Nevertheless, the ten minutes seemed to the three men to be a long half-hour, and it was with a feeling of the deepest satisfaction that they saw a rocky barrier in front of them, and left the frozen plain they had been traversing.
'We are not out of the wood yet, Mr. Hawtrey said, 'nor shall we be till we get down among the trees, and I confess that I am feeling rather done myself.'
'It is awkward walking like this, Mr. Hawtrey, when one can scarcely see where one is putting one's foot down. If you will let me I will carry Miss Hawtrey in the same way the guides are doing; her weight will be nothing if I get her well up on my back. We shall get on ever so much faster that way.'
There was a feeble protest from Dorothy, who, although utterly exhausted was not insensible; it passed unheeded.
'Are you sure you can do it, Armstrong?'
'Quite certain, if you and Fortescue will lift her up; that is it, the weight is nothing now to what it was on the arms.'
The guides had been standing impatiently by while this colloquy was going on. They started as soon as they saw Captain Armstrong had his burden fairly arranged.
'Keep close behind me, monsieur,' Conrad said; 'if you follow quite close, you will see whether I make a step down or up.'
They descended rapidly. From time to time the guides paused and asked if all were together, and as soon as the reply was given pushed on again. Powerful man as he was, it taxed Captain Armstrong's strength to the utmost to keep up with the guides, who strode on rapidly ahead, as if their weights were nothing to them. The perspiration streamed from his face—less from the weight than from anxiety lest he should fall, and several times he only saved himself by means of his alpenstock. Behind him he could hear the panting breath of the two elder men, as they hurried along stumbling and slipping. At last the gloom became denser, the roar of wind increased, and the guides came to a standstill.
'We must halt here,' Giuseppe said; 'we are in the wood. We will rest for a little while, and see if we can find a shelter and light a fire; if not we must go on again. There is a break in the ground somewhere about here. I must look for it.'
Mr. Fortescue and his friend lifted Clara from his back and he hurried away. In a few minutes he returned.
'It is close by,' he said; 'we shall do there.'
He led the way, and in a minute they stood at the edge of a little ravine some fifteen feet deep running through the wood. The girls were carefully carried down to the bottom. The change in the temperature, now they were sheltered from the wind, was very great. All three girls were conscious, the motion and the heat of the guides' bodies having revived both the Fortescues; none of them were, however, able to stand.
'Huddle as close together as you can, girls; the guides are going to try and light a fire, and we shall soon have you comfortable.'
'Oh, by the way, I have a flask in my pocket with some brandy in it,' Mr. Fortescue said. 'I had forgotten all about it until now.'
'Thank God for that,' Mr. Hawtrey said; 'it is worth fifty times its weight in gold. Now take a good sip of it, girls, it will do you a world of good.'
As soon as they were free of their burdens the guides, accompanied by Captain Armstrong, had hurried away, and the former were soon engaged in chopping off strips of bark from the pines, while the latter collected sticks. A pile was soon heaped up close to where the girls were sitting, a match struck, and in two or three minutes a bright fire was blazing.
Two men were sitting together in an inner room in a saloon in New Orleans.
'I was never more surprised than when you came in yesterday, Bob; regular floored I was. It was only a few days ago I was thinking over that rig we were in together. We made a good bit out of that.'
'Yes, we didn't do badly. I have wished sometimes since that I had been as deep in it as you were, and had bolted and cleared out altogether.'
'Yes, I made most out of it; but then you see I ran most risk by a long way. You might have got a year or two for being mixed up in it, but what with nobbling the horse and what with having to pretty near choke the stable-boy, I should have got fourteen years safe. You could have been with me in that if you had been game, instead of only taking the part of getting round the girl, and persuading her to get the stable boy to slip out to see her for five minutes. If the fools had played their part better we should have got off without my having to meddle with him, but she made such a poor story of it that he suspected something was up and came back again and just met me as I was dropping from the window of the loft. He knew me by sight, and there was nothing to do but to bolt, while as you had been swelling it with those false moustaches no one twigged you from the girl's description, and you were able to spend your money at home.'
'Well, it did not do me much good. It went after the rest quick enough.'
'You knew where to find me from Laxey, I suppose? I know he is a pal of yours.'
'Yes, we work together sometimes. We knew each other years and years ago, when we both had money to spend, and spent it and more besides. He had more than I had. He came into a biggish fortune when he came of age, but ran through it in a couple of years. Then he had a bit of luck on the turf, and more luck still they used to say at cards at the clubs he belonged to, till he was one day kicked out of one of them, and that did for him altogether, and he came down to the three-card dodge and games of that sort. Yes, he was wonderfully clever at cards; could do almost anything with them. I have seen him bet a company all round that he cut a king three times following, let them shuffle them as much as they liked, and he never touched the cards till he cut, and I never saw him miss it though there were a score of men round looking at his fingers.'
'Aye, I have seen him do that trick, and nobody was ever able to make out how he did it. He could make the cards do 'most anything. I have written to him half a dozen times within the last few years, telling him what an opening there was out here for a chap with such talents as he has got; but I told him straight it was of no use his coming unless he was ready to play with pistols as well as with cards, and I expect that is what has kept him away. I fancy it was, from what he wrote. Laxey's weak point was that he never had nerve—if it had not been for that, he could have made money anywhere.'
'Well, he gave me your address. It suited my book to be out of England for a few months, and when I had got across the water I said to myself, "I will go down and see Joe Murdoch at New Orleans." I am not as handy with the cards as Laxey, and I don't know who is, but I have worked the three-card trick, and many an evening when Laxey and I have been together, in my room or his, we spent an hour or two over the cards, and he has put me up to some of his tricks, and I have worked at them when I have had nothing else to do and could not sleep, till I have come to do some of them pretty near as well as he does. I don't mean to say that I thought of going into that line when I came down here, but I said to myself, "There is Joe Murdoch; we have played more than one game together, and I can trust him and I think he can trust me. He has been out here six years, and I expect he must know the ropes and can give me some good advice, whether we go in for anything together or not."'
'That is so, Warbles. We can run straight together, or if we don't run together perhaps I can put you on to a line of country where you may make good running for yourself. You left England suddenly, I suppose?'
The other nodded.
'Turf business?'
'No; I suppose they would call it money under false pretences. I only ran dark; it was a girl I have got here with me that did the trick.'
'Brought a girl over with you, Warbles? Well, I should not have thought you would have bothered yourself with a girl out here.'
'Well, no, I don't suppose I should if it hadn't been that I expected to make her useful. She goes as my daughter, and she looks on me as an old friend of her father's.'
'Is that so?' the other asked doubtfully.
'That is so, Joe. The girl is straight—as straight as a line. I met her—never mind how I met her—but I saw she was a sharp girl and would be a good-looking one, and it struck me that such a girl could be made very useful. I had her taught a bit and trained, and I fancy she could pass anywhere as a lady. Well, you know when a respectable gentleman of my age with an uncommon pretty daughter arrives at a big hotel, say at Scarborough or Brighton, and the girl is clever, you can see for yourself that there is money to be made in lots of ways. Young men make the acquaintance of the gentleman for the sake of the girl. They will come up to his rooms and, after a little supper, they may take a hand at écarté. Then you see a young girl can get round a young flat with some pitiful story or other, and get a loan from him to meet temporary difficulties. Then when the time gets near for leaving, she may take a fancy to a few things from jewellers and have them sent to choose from. Altogether there is no end of money to be made if the game is played well.'
'Yes, I see that. But your coming over here shows that the game can be cut short.'
'No, that is the game I am going to play when I go back. We worked in a different direction last time and brought it off. I think we might have stopped safely enough, but I had particular reasons for wanting to get here out of the way, so I tell you I ran off the track and came over here. Do you think that game could be played here?'
'Not much,' the other replied. 'At some of the summer resorts it might be done, but it could not last long. There ain't enough big towns and places to work in; besides, at our hotels there ain't the same chance of getting to know people that there is at home, or in Paris, or in those places. People sit down to a little table to themselves to their meals, and there is no sort of general meeting-place. You would find it very hard to work it. Got some money, I suppose?'
'About five hundred pounds, Joe.'
The other smoked in silence for two or three minutes.
'Twenty-five hundred dollars,' he said at last, 'is a tidy sum, but it would not go far here. Besides, if you are thinking of doing anything with the cards you would have to move about. It wouldn't do to bide too long anywhere. They are up to most tricks, I can tell you, and they would think here no more of shooting a man they had a suspicion of playing false than you would of eating your dinner. Stores are paying well here, because there is a crowd of people going through to the West, and most of them lay in their stock for the journey here, but twenty-five hundred dollars would go no way towards a store. If I were to sell out, I could with what I could get for this place and what I have got by me put as much more in. Still, five thousand dollars would be no use for a store that would make anything of a show. I have thought a good deal about going West myself.'
'West?' the other repeated doubtfully.
'Yes, to California; there is big money to be made out there; I don't mean in digging for gold. In a place like that it don't want a deal of capital. A big tent and a few casks of spirits and a stock of cheap wines and some tables and benches is about all; but that would be too much for me by the time I had made the journey across. With your money and mine I don't know that we mightn't manage it, and if we could it ought to pay big money. I could run the saloon, you could work the card rig in a room behind, and if the girl is as good-looking as you say she is, she would fetch them in crowds if she looked after the bar. There are no end of mining camps, I hear, and the miners just chuck their gold about, and one could move off from one to another when we found the game playing out.'
'It sounds a good thing,' Warbles said, 'but it is a long journey, isn't it?'
'Well, yes, it's a long journey, there's no denying that, but there are hundreds of people starting every week. Most of them go by the Southern route, but I am told it is a much better way to go up the river by steamer to a place called Omaha, which is growing into a big town, and strike across from there.'
'It is not the difficulty but the time I am thinking of. I only intended to stop for a few months.'
'What difference will that make? You want to get money, I suppose? Well, you would get as much in a week there as you would in a month by your scheme, which might be cut short any day, and you might find yourself with your hair cropped and in for five years. Why, from what I have heard, there are men coining money out there at drinking-saloons, and after two or three years of it we might cut it and go home, and keep race-horses of our own if we liked.'
'Well, I will think it over, Joe. It is a biggish thing to decide on, but there ought certainly to be money in it. As you say there is no chance of getting five years, but it seems to me from what I have heard of it there is a goodish chance of a pistol-bullet or a stab from a bowie-knife.'
'I expect all that there is exaggerated; besides the rows are between the men that drink, and not between them and those that sell drink; as to the cards there is no occasion to do any hanky panky with them, unless you see you have got a greenhorn to deal with and the chances are good. The cards pay anyhow: they bring men into the place and they help to sell the drink.'
'Well, I will think it over,' Warbles repeated. 'I am getting tired of doing nothing all day; how I shall get through three or four months of it is more than I can think. Perhaps I might as well do this as anything else. The girl would certainly be useful. To tell you the truth she is pretty difficult to manage, and I am not sure she might not after a time kick over the traces altogether; but I don't think she would mind what we are talking about; I am sure it will be more to her taste than the other. Well, I will come in again in the morning; it is too big a thing to be decided on straight off.'
Warbles went back to his hotel. A girl was standing at the window, looking out upon the river; she turned round as he entered.
'Well, have you settled anything?' she asked. 'I am sick of doing nothing, but just thinking and thinking.'
'Care killed a cat, Linda,' the man said lightly. 'Thinking is a pure waste of time. I have had a long talk with Murdoch and he has put an entirely new idea into my head.'
'An honest idea, of course,' she said scornfully.
'You may scarcely believe me, but you are right, my dear; it is a strictly honest line.'
The girl looked at him intently.
'Well, let us hear what it is,' she said; 'you promised me the other should be the last. I did not believe it, and told you so. I shall find it hard to believe that there is not something crooked about this somewhere.'
'Well, there; isn't it just honest trade?' and he repeated the conversation he had had with Murdoch, omitting, however, all allusions to his skill at cards. Her face brightened as he went on.
'That will do,' she said; 'I should say that will do first-rate. When I was a young 'un I often peeped in at the doors of big public-houses. I used to think the women behind the bars had a fine time of it. I should not think so now—at least, not in a big town—but in places like those you talk of, it would be different altogether. I should like the journey, too; it would be like going with gipsies, which I used to think would be the happiest life in the world. I was afraid when we got out here you would be wanting to do another thing like the last, and I would not have helped you—at any rate, not till we were getting down to our last shilling. But I like the thought of this, and I will do my best for you. I suppose they are a rough wild lot out there, but I think I can take care of myself. But this time, mind, I shall want a share; I am not going to work for years and then be thrown over when it suits you. I will have my share of the profits paid over to me once a week or once a month at the outside, and will put it away where I like. How much are you going to put into this thing?'
'I told him I could manage five hundred, and he said he could do the same, but I doubt whether that will be enough to carry it out properly.'
'Well, you have got two thousand left now. You said you would go halves with me. I don't want that, but give me five hundred and you can tell this man that I have got that money of my own and am ready to put it in with yours, but that I am going to have an even share. I know you are calculating that my good looks will draw, and no doubt they will. I am not a fool, and can see what you are after; and I can see, too, that it won't be an easy game for me to play. These miners, with their pistols and their knives, are not like the young fellows who come into a London bar. They will be in real earnest out there, and it will be a dangerous game to play with them. One has got to be pleasant with everyone and not to give a smile more to one than to another; not to give one the right to think that he has a chance or causes him to believe that another has a better one than he has.'
'I think that is rather too much, Sal,' Mr. Warbles said, doubtfully. 'I have always been kind to you.'
'There is no occasion to have any lying between us,' she broke in. 'Why you took me up and paid for me for years I don't know, and I don't suppose I ever shall know, but, at any rate, I know you well enough to be sure that it was not out of pure kindness. If it had been, would you have put me into the hands of a woman who was always drunk? Would you have left me to be brought up in that court, to grow up a young thief, who might any day have been taken off and hauled before a beak? Do you think I am such a fool as to swallow that? Then came the time when you took me away, I saw you look me over. I saw that you said to yourself, "She will do."
'What I was to do for you I neither knew nor cared. You said you would have me taught—that was enough for me. Then I had three quiet years, and I made the most of them. You told me something that first day about expecting me to be useful to you, and when the time came I carried out your orders. It was only right to do so; you had bought my services. It was a bargain—but don't let us call it anything else. From the first you had an object in saving me from starving or from the workhouse, and I suppose you thought that object was worth spending money on. But certainly the object was not kindness. You were always kind when you came to see me once a year all the time I was with that woman, and it is for that more than anything else that I am ready to help you and to carry out your orders, but I don't want to be altogether at your mercy, still less at the mercy of the man you are going to take as partner.
'I will work with you but not under you. I don't want to interfere in your plans, and as you would be two to one of course you could outvote me if I did. Still, it will give me a better position if it is known that I am your partner and not your drudge, and I shall know that I cannot be cast off or thrown aside and left alone and friendless, and that I can, if I like, wash my hands of the business.'
'I would not mind agreeing,' Mr. Warbles said, after sitting rubbing his chin thoughtfully for some time. 'I should not mind your having a third of the profits, and I think that would be fair enough seeing that you would put in a third of the capital; and as you rightly suppose, we consider that you would prove a great help to us. But suppose you took it into your head to marry, where should we be then?'
The girl waved her hand impatiently. 'I am not likely to marry,' she said.
'So you think at present, Linda, and so a good many other girls have thought. Still, there it is. I have got to put the matter before Murdoch, and it has got to be put in a business shape. Would you be willing, if we agree with you that as long as you remain with us you take a third share of the profits, in case of your leaving us, either to marry or for any other cause, to forfeit your third of the concern? You see if you weren't to do that your husband, if you had one, might set himself down as a third owner; or, supposing you did not marry, you might get a good offer for your share and sell out, and that would not be fair on us.'
'No, that would not be fair. Yes, I would agree to that. I am to be joint proprietor with you both, and to take my third of the profits to do what I like with, but if I leave you I forfeit all I have in the concern. We will have the agreement made before a lawyer. As far as I am concerned, there shall be two copies made; one I will take with me, the other I shall leave with him, so that if by any chance I lose mine I shall be able to prove my rights. Of course, I have no fear with you, papa; no man would wrong his daughter, but when there is a third person in the matter it is as well that one should look after oneself.'
Mr. Warbles with difficulty repressed an angry ejaculation; however, he was so impressed with the value of his ally that he mastered himself, and said with an attempt at a smile, 'I had no idea you were such a businesslike young woman, Sally.'
'I have always had to take care of myself a good deal,' she said quietly, 'and I mean to do so as long as I can. Now it is time to go down to lunch, I think; then we might go for a drive and have a look at the place. Are you going to see your friend again to-day?'
'No, I told him I must think the matter over, and see whether you liked the idea before I decided one way or the other.'
Joe Murdoch offered no objection whatever when Mr. Warbles informed him of the conditions on which alone Miss Myrtle—for they had adopted another name when booking for New Orleans—consented to join in the venture.
'It is her money, I suppose, that she puts in?' he asked.
'It is her share of the last thing we pulled off.'
'Ah, well, it is hers then. Well, it is only fair that she should have a third. You were quite right in insisting that if she left us she should forfeit all further share in it. I don't like her any the worse for being able to look after her own interests. One wants a long-headed girl for this business; a weak fool, who would be ready to throw herself away on the first good-looking miner with his pockets well filled, would be of no use to us at all. One who would be inclined to flirt right and left might be worse still, for there would be a shooting affair in the place in no time. One wants just what I think she is, by your account of what she said, a cool-headed, clever woman, who has the wit to see that the best game is to steer clear of them all, show no preference to anyone, and to give no one an excuse for being jealous. She is exactly the one we want. I think even better of the thing than I did before, Warbles. The extra five hundred will make all the difference in our outfit; I should say it would take us five hundred to get across, but then we should have the waggon and horses, and they would do to take the tent or the frame and boardings of the house up, to work backwards and forwards to the nearest town for spirits and food, and would pay its expenses by hauling things for storekeepers. I reckon it is a first-rate look-out.'
'Where would you buy the outfit?'
'Well, we can get a waggon in pieces all numbered and ready to put together when we get to Omaha. We shan't want a very heavy one as there are only three of us. We had better buy horses here; there is no saying how much we might have to pay at Omaha; or, what would be better, I can send a letter by a boat that starts this evening to a man I know who has a farm near the last steamboat stopping-place, about a hundred miles this side of Omaha, and give him a commission to buy me four of the strongest horses he can get there, and to drive them to Omaha so as to meet us by next Thursday's boat. There will be nothing to keep us beyond then.'
'No, the sooner we are off the better. I suppose you know pretty well what are the things people take with them?'
'Yes; it is generally about the same thing, flour, bacon, tea and sugar, molasses, and baking-powder. Of course we shall want a few pounds of salt and some pepper and mustard, and a keg of salt butter. That about fills the list. Have you got any firearms?'
'No.'
'You will want a brace of Colts—that's revolvers, you know—and a bowie knife, which is handy for all sorts of things. I have got everything. The first thing to do is to have this agreement made; I can find a man to draw it up.'
'That won't do. The girl said this morning that she should ask the landlord of the hotel for the name of one of the most respectable lawyers in our place, and should go with us when we give our instructions to him.'
'Good,' Murdoch said; 'she must be chock full of good sense. It is clear that there will be no getting over her easily. She is right, you know, quite right; for the man I was thinking of going to might not have taken sufficient care of her copy.' And he winked at his associate.
'That is what she suspected, no doubt,' Mr. Warbles said, in an injured tone. 'After all I have done for her, it is hard to be distrusted.'
'It must be, I should say, Warbles, mightily hard, after, as you say, all you have done for her.'
'She said when I came out she'd get the name and address before I came back, and that I had better bring you with me, so that we could go together at once. You had better tog yourself up a bit.'
'I should think so. You are such a respectable looking swell, Warbles, that I ain't fit to walk down the street with you, let alone to be introduced to a young lady. Well, just look at that paper for a few minutes.'
Mr. Warbles sat down and amused himself until Murdoch's return in watching the young man in charge of the bar who, having been up till four o'clock in the morning, was now languidly wiping down the counter, decanting liquids from one bottle to another, washing glasses, and generally setting things straight. When Murdoch appeared he was dressed, and Mr. Warbles looked at him approvingly.
'This is my English suit,' Murdoch explained. 'I have not put it on ten times since I came over. You see, people here mostly wear either black or white, with waistcoats cut low so as to show a lot of white shirt. I dress their way, of course; as a rule it don't do to look peculiar; besides, there is rather a prejudice against Britishers down here, and it is no use rubbing them down the wrong way. If you dress as other people do, and keep a quiet tongue in your head, you have a good chance of steering clear of rows. Of course you cannot always do that when you are running a saloon, but even here you can do fairly well if you keep your eyes open and act according to character. If it is a great big swaggering sort of bully who gets drunk and kicks up a row, I have pistols always handy behind the bar, and when I jump over with one in each hand I can generally get him out as quiet as a lamb. If I see that it is a regular hard case, a fellow who means downright mischief, I lie low and take no heed, only sending out my man quietly to fetch a constable. As a rule he never finds one, still it makes all the difference. If there is a man shot and an inquest the next morning I am able to prove that I did my best to put a stop to the matter, and so I get off without being blamed; for a New Orleans jury are not fools enough to suppose anyone is going to shove himself between two angry men when their hands go to their pistol pockets.'
When they arrived at the hotel Mr. Warbles asked his companion to stop outside while he fetched the girl down.
Joe Murdoch had been prepared to see a good-looking young woman, but he was completely taken aback by the appearance of the girl who came out with Mr. Warbles. He had been on English racecourses long enough to be able to distinguish a lady when he saw her, and he at once decided that this girl would pass for one in any society. She was well but quietly dressed, had a graceful walk and a good carriage, while her face was exceptionally pretty. 'My eye,' he muttered to himself, 'wherever did Warbles pick her up?'
'This is my old friend, Joe Murdoch, Linda'—for the name of Sally had been dropped as being vulgar and objectionable, from the day her training had begun. 'This is my adopted daughter, Joe.'
'Glad to meet her, I am sure,' Mr. Murdoch said, with a humility altogether uncommon to him. 'I am very glad to think that we are going to travel together, Miss Myrtle.'
'I shall be glad to travel anywhere, Mr. Murdoch. This seems to me a dreary place.'
'Not dreary when you know it; far from that. It is a stirring place, except in the old French quarters, but one wants to know it.'
'We took a drive yesterday,' Linda said; 'and it seems to me that it is the worst smelling and most unhealthy sort of place I was ever in.'
'Well, yes, I can't say much for it in that way, and occasionally we get yellow fever here bad, but I have never had an attack myself. Whose office are we going to, Warbles?'
'I wish you would call me Myrtle,' the latter said irritably; 'there is no good in calling up that old name here.'
'We are going to Mr. Searle's,' Linda said quietly; 'this is the street I think. I got the directions how to find it at the hotel. He is a respectable lawyer, I am told.'
'Very much so, Miss Myrtle, quite highly so. I believe that he is a very sharp fellow too, and it is not always the two things go together. He was with his father; the old man died two years ago, and now the young one has got it all in his own hands. He does all the best shipping business here.'
On entering they found that Mr. Searle was disengaged, and were at once shown into his office.
'We wish a deed of partnership drawn out between John Myrtle, that is myself, Linda Myrtle, and Joseph Murdoch. Each of the three parties agrees to put in the sum of five hundred pounds, which is to be jointly expended on the journey to California, and on starting and carrying on a saloon or other establishment there, the profits to be divided monthly, each of the three parties becoming absolute possessor of his or her share. In the event of Linda Myrtle marrying, or leaving the partnership for any reason whatever, she is to forfeit all share in the property or effects of the partnership.'
The lawyer listened attentively. 'Do either of the other parties similarly forfeit their share on leaving the partnership?'
'No; but it might be as well to put in a clause that in the event of his doing so the partner remaining has the first option of purchasing his share at a price to be fixed upon by an umpire agreed upon by both.'
'I have a question to ask,' the girl said suddenly. 'Would such a deed as this be rendered useless or invalid if the names of one or more of the parties were not those properly belonging to them?'
The lawyer looked at her in surprise. 'It would certainly be very desirable that the real names should be inserted. This, however, would not be indispensable if the identity of the parties with those named here could be proved; for instance if you were to come here to prove the deed I could testify that you were the lady who signed as Linda Myrtle, and that under that name for example, you registered at the hotel, and were generally known. Did you wish to prove it elsewhere, you would take an affidavit that you were the person designated and known as Linda Myrtle. Did you sign under your real name, whatever it might be, it would be just as difficult for you in California to prove that you were entitled to it, as to that under which you sign. You intend, I suppose, to continue to pass under the name given, and will be generally known by it. Moreover, in case of necessity, you might write to me and forward your likeness, and I could then make an affidavit to the effect that the original of that portrait was the lady who in my presence signed the deed of partnership under the name of Linda Myrtle.'
'We should each wish to have copies of the deed of partnership, and I desire that a fourth copy may be made, and this I shall request you to hold in charge for me, so that in case I should at any time lose or be deprived of my copy, I should, by applying to you, be able to obtain another copy.'
'I will certainly do that, Miss Myrtle, and I think it a very wise precaution on your part. I will have the draft ready this afternoon,' the lawyer said; 'I shall be glad if you will call in at three o'clock to see if it meets your joint views, and if so, I will have the deed—which will be a very short one—copied four times in readiness for the signatures in the morning.'
'What did you want to go on like this for, Linda?' Mr. Warbles grumbled, as he went out into the street. 'Why, the man will suppose that you suspect us of some plot to rob you.'
'No, I don't suspect anything particular, but there is nothing like having things put on a satisfactory footing. I see that it is for our interest that we should act square to each other, and I certainly see no reason whatever why you should wish to get rid of me. Still, no one can say what might happen. After all, I am only ensuring to myself my share of the profits so long as I do my share of the business as well as I can—and I should think from what you have seen of my powers of acting, you can rest well assured that I shall do it very well—but I want to be independent, and I will be so. I don't know anything of this place we are going to, except that the men are rough and quarrelsome, and I want, if after two or three months trial I find the life altogether unbearable to be able to leave, with money enough in my pocket to pay my fare to San Francisco, if not home, and to be able to keep myself until I can find some situation.'
'You are right enough, Miss Linda,' Joe Murdoch broke in, 'and I haven't the least feeling against you for what you have said and done. I like you all the better that you can stand up for yourself, and though I am not much of a fighting man I will promise you I will stand by you out there whatever comes. Any man that says a word to you that he ought not to say I will reckon with him. I ain't a straight man myself and never have been since I was a kid, but, by gosh, I would be cut in pieces rather than see anything happen to a girl that is as straight as you are.'
'Thank you, Joe,' she said, quietly holding out her hand to him. 'I did not know you before, but now that I do, I feel there is no occasion for me to have that fourth copy made.'
'You have it made, miss; it is best you should have one. I might go under and Bob might get another partner, or he might go under and I might get another partner, and in either case it would save trouble if you have your rights clearly marked out and set down.'
'Let us go down to the wharf, Joe,' his comrade said, changing the conversation. 'It is all as good as settled now, and we may as well begin to get the things. How long will it take us?'
'It won't take more than two hours, any way,' Joe said. 'There are big stores here where we can get every mortal thing we want. We could go by the boat to-night if we wanted to, but we don't want to. In the first place I have got to settle about selling my saloon, and in the second the order for the horses is only going by to-night's boat, and it ain't no manner of use our getting into Omaha before they do. It would cost us twice as much to live in a shanty, where every square foot is occupied by sleepers, than it would to stop comfortably in an hotel here. I shall not be long in getting rid of my place. Two or three of the men who use it have asked me at one time or another what I would take to clear out of it. It is handy for the river, and I do a fairish trade with sailors of an evening. Still, it would take a day or two to arrange it, and it will never do to look as if one was in a hurry. If they thought I wanted to clear out they would not offer half the sum they would if they thought that I did not care one way or the other about making a deal.'
They walked along the wharves looking at the steamers.
'There are plenty of them going up the river,' Murdoch said, 'but Thursday's boat is the first that goes up to Omaha, and that is about as close as we can cut it. It is Monday now, and the day is pretty near half gone; I reckon I shall want all the time for carrying out my deal. I will go now and see one of the chaps I spoke of. At three o'clock we have got to meet at that lawyer's office, and then if you like we will go and get our outfit, and take our passages. I have got more than enough money to pay for my share. If you will take my advice, Miss Linda, you will go back to the hotel and overhaul your things and see what you want for the journey. You will want some good strong plain dresses and serviceable things underneath, for it is a rough business I can tell you. You want a store of all sorts of little things—buttons and such like, needles and thread and all that sort of thing—and plenty of stout shoes that will bear knocking about. You must bear in mind that you won't see a shop for four or five months; but remember the less baggage you take the better, as I have heard that many a waggonload of emigrants going across the plains have had to chuck everything overboard, kit and food and all except a sack of flour, so as to lighten the waggons when the horses broke down. I am not sure, Bob, that it would not be wiser to write for six horses, or better still for two mules for wheelers and four horses. It may cost a bit more, but it will make things more easy and will give us a better chance of getting to the end of our journey with all our kit.'
'All right, Joe; you know more of these things than I do. If you think that six are best, order them. I suppose the tent we shall get out there.'
'Yes, the tent is a mighty heavy thing. I should never think of dragging that with us.'
'I should not have given you credit for being so soft, Murdoch,' Truscott growled, as after seeing the girl into the hotel, they turned away together.
'I dare say not. Softness ain't much in my line, but that girl fetched me altogether. Here she is, right away from England and without a friend in the world, and she speaks out as firm and as brave as if she had twenty men within call ready to help her. If she had been one of the crying sort she would have got no pity from me, but she regular took my breath away when she spoke out like that, and I says to myself, "She has got to be ridden on a snaffle; just touch the curb and she will bolt with you and will break your neck as well as her own." But I meant what I said for all that. She is just the girl for what we want, and if she finds we treat her well and act square by her she will act square by us. She will keep them all at a distance, and keep her head straight all the time; only you will have to humour her. I don't know where you picked her up, but I should wager a dollar to a cent that she is thoroughbred.'
'You would not have said so if you had seen her three years and a half ago, when I picked her out from a slum in London.'
'I might not have said so then, that is likely enough; one can't always tell whether a yearling is going to turn out a good horse, and a good many who think they are clever get sucked in over it; but a man who has an eye to horseflesh can tell whether a three-year-old is well bred or not, and I guess I am not far out with this one. Yes, I am struck over her. It is not often that women, or men either for that matter, get on the soft side of me. You know pretty well that I wasn't afraid of running a bit of risk in the old days, and you may guess that this country doesn't make a baby of one. No, sir, I have seen pistols and knives out pretty often since I came here, and would use them myself if there was any occasion, and I guess that if we ever get into a mess you will find I shall play my part as well as you do; only I want it clearly understood that in this job we are going in for I am ready to go through it whatever comes; but I am fixed in my mind that we are going to act straight to that girl.'
'Who wants not to act straight?' the other said angrily. 'Haven't I brought her all the way out here because I thought she would be useful? Couldn't I have slipped away with all the pot we had made, and left her behind me if I had wanted to? And who is talking about my not acting square with her now?'
'That is right enough, mate; we won't quarrel over it. So that we three all act straight to each other all round I am satisfied.'
They did not get away from New Orleans as soon as they had expected. The various purchases were all made in ample time, but the business of disposing of Murdoch's saloon was not so speedily arranged. He suggested that the other two should go on by the 'Mississippi Belle,' and that he should follow by the next steamer, but Warbles was against this.
'A week won't make much difference one way or the other,' he said. 'It is better that we should keep together. You are more up to the ropes here than I am. I suppose they will change our tickets for those of next week's boat?'
'There will be no difficulty about that; I could change them in five minutes. There are lots of people who could not get berths on her, and have had to take them in the next boat, and they would jump at the chance of going up at once.'
It was not until they had been at New Orleans nearly three weeks that Murdoch's business was finally arranged and everything was ready for a start. Warbles was in no particular hurry; he had been accustomed to do a great deal of aimless loafing about during his career, and found plenty to amuse him, looking at the busy scene by the riverside; but at last all was ready, and their goods were all on board the steamer that was to start on the following morning.
'There is a New York steamer signalled coming up,' Murdoch said, as they stood together smoking on one of the quays. 'She will be in by five o'clock. It is the 'Savannah'; she is a smart boat, and I guess she has made the passage down in four or five days quicker time than you did.'
'I am glad she is in before we start. I dare say she will have papers from England a good week later than any we have got here. It is as well to get the last news while we can. We shan't have the chance for some months again.'
'I don't care for English papers now. I look at them, because sometimes an English skipper or mate comes into my place, and when they find I am a countryman and know something about the turf, they will put a few dollars on some horse or other for the Derby. If the news is expected in before they sail, sometimes they will turn to the English paper and pick out a horse just for the fun of the thing for some other race of which the news ought to be in in a day or two, and put two or three dollars on it. If it was not for that I should never take the trouble to look at them, though I always take them regular in the saloon.'