The Mistress of Bonaventure

"If he had used legitimate weapons one could almost be sorry for him," I said. "It will try even his nerve to lose all he has plotted for when the prize is actually, if he knew it, within his grasp."

"He deserves no mercy," Boone broke in. "This is justice, Ormesby, neither more nor less; and unless we cripple him once for all he will take hold again with the first bad season. What you will shortly hear should demonstrate the necessity for decisive measures; but our host forgot to mention that he declines to profit individually by this opportunity."

"If anyone wishes to learn my virtues he can apply to certain company promoters in Montreal," said Haldane languidly. "Boone will remember that I came here to farm for my health, and have been coerced into assisting at this Vehmgericht. Those wheels, however, give warning that the first sitting will commence."

A minute or two later I started wrathfully to my feet as Niven was ushered into the room. He on his part seemed equally astonished, and, I think, would have backed out again, but that Boone adroitly slammed the door behind him. It may be mentioned that he had been tried in my place, and, to the disgust of Sergeant Mackay, just escaped conviction.

"I need not introduce Mr. Ormesby, who will kindly resume his place," said Haldane pleasantly. "Sit down and choose a cigar if you feel like it. You sent word you wanted to talk to me?"

"I didn't want to talk to that man;" and Niven scowled at me, while Haldane shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't turn him out, you see. Now hadn't you better explain what you want with me?"

There was a languid contempt beneath the speaker's surface good-humor which was not lost on the fidgeting man; but he lighted a cigar with an air of bravado, and commenced:

"Thinking over things, I figured both you and Adams had your knife in Lane;" and Haldane's mild surprise was excellently assumed. "Well, I've got my own knife in him, too. It's this way. Lane put up the money for me to buy out Ormesby, and made a mighty close bargain, thinking I daren't kick. It would have been inconvenient, and I didn't mean to; but when those blame police ran me in for a thing I never done, he just turns his back, and wouldn't put up a dollar to defend me! 'I've no use for blunderers of your kind,' says he."

"One could understand that it is necessary for him to make sure of his subordinates' abilities," said Haldane reflectively; and Niven, who stared hard at him, appeared to gulp down something before he proceeded.

"Well, he can't fool with me, and it comes to this. I'm recorded owner of Gaspard's Trail; paid for it with my own check – Lane fixed that up. Now, what I want to ask you is, how's Lane going to turn me out if I hold on to the place? Strikes me he can't do it."

In spite of this assurance the speaker looked distinctly eager until Haldane answered: "We need not discuss the moral aspect of the case, because it apparently hasn't one, and you might not understand it if it had. Speaking from a purely business point of view, I feel tolerably certain that, in the circumstances, he would not take legal proceedings against you, though I have no doubt he might arrange the affair in some other way."

"Feel quite sure?" asked Niven. And Haldane answered: "I may say I do."

Niven's grin of triumph would have sickened any honest man, but I was not sorry for his employer. "I guess I'll take my chances of the other way, and I'm coming straight to business. Will you stand behind me? It's not going to be a charity. There is money in Gaspard's Trail, and I'm open to make a fair deal with the man who sees me through."

I saw Haldane's lips set tightly for a moment, and my hand itched for a good hold of Niven's collar; but the master of Bonaventure next regarded him with a quiet amusement which appeared disconcerting.

"I fancy your worthy master was correct when he described you as a blunderer," he said. "It would be quite impossible for me to make a bargain of that – or any other – kind with you. You might also have added that he inspired you to more than the buying of Gaspard's Trail."

There was pluck in Niven, for he laughed offensively. "I got my verdict, and if you won't deal I may as well be going. Anyhow, you've told me what I most wanted to know."

He departed without further parley, and Haldane smiled at me. "It would have been a pity to detain him, and Lane was wrong in choosing an understudy he could not scare into submission. That rascal will hold on to Gaspard's Trail, and the loss of it will further hamper his master."

Some little time passed, and Boone, who appeared impatient, said at last: "She is late; but Gordon may have been too busy to drive her over earlier, and she promised me faithfully that she would come."

Haldane said nothing, though he seemed dubious until there was another sound of wheels, and I had a second surprise when a lady was ushered into the room, for I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw that it was Redmond's daughter. She had changed greatly from the girl who called down vengeance on the oppressor when we brought her father home, although the glitter in her eyes and the intentness of her face showed the strain of emotional nature in her. Still, she was handsomely and tastefully dressed, and carried herself with dignity.

"This is Mr. Haldane, Miss Redmond, and I am sure he will be grateful to you for coming," said Boone, who I noticed appeared relieved when the new arrival laid a packet on the table. "I may explain for Ormesby's benefit that Miss Redmond, who is winning fame as a singer, has something of importance to show him," he added.

The girl's hand was very cold when it touched my own, and her movements nervous as she drew a book in tattered binding out of its wrappings.

"I hope Mrs. Gordon will spare you as long as possible, and that your visit to the prairie will do you good," said Haldane, placing a chair for her.

"Once I fancied I could never look at the prairie without a shudder, but of late I have been longing for sunshine and air, and shall perhaps be happier when this is over," said the girl. "It is a very hard thing I have to do, and I must tell you the whole painful story."

"We can understand that it must be," said Haldane gently.

"When I left home for Winnipeg I joined a second-rate variety company. I had inherited a gift for singing, and those who heard me were pleased with the old Irish ballads my mother taught me. So there was soon no fear of poverty, and I was trying to bury the past, when, the night I first sang to a packed audience in Winnipeg, it was once more dragged up before me. I came home from what the newspapers said was a triumph, and because one critic had questioned a verse of an old song I looked for a book of my mother's among the relics I had brought from the prairie. I found – this – instead."

Ailin Redmond ceased with a little gasp. And glancing at the dilapidated account book she touched, I wondered what power it could have had to change her triumph into an agony.

"I sat all that night beside the stove trying to force myself to burn the book, and yet afraid," she continued. "Perhaps we are superstitious; but I felt that I dare not, and its secret has been a very burden ever since. Sometimes I thought of the revenge it would give me, and yet I could not take it without blackening my father's memory. So I kept silence until my health commenced to fail under the strain, and meeting Mr. Boone at Brandan, where I sang at the time Mr. Ormesby's trial filled the papers, I felt I must tell him part of my discovery. Had the trial not ended as it did he would have consulted with Lawyer Dixon. Afterwards, though I hated Lane the more, I pledged Mr. Boone to secrecy, and kept silent until, when I could bear the load no longer, I told my trouble to Père Louis. 'If you only desire vengeance it would be better to burn the book; but if you can save innocent men from persecution and prevent the triumph of the wicked, silence would be a sin,' he said. Then I wrote to Mr. Boone and told him I would show the papers to Mr. Ormesby."

I opened the battered volume handed me with a strong sense of anticipation, and, as I did so, the girl shrank back shivering. Redmond's writing was recognizable, and I thrilled alternately with pity and indignation against another person as I read his testimony. Omitting other details, the dated entries, arranged in debit and credit fashion, told the whole story.

"Deep snow and stock very poor," the first I glanced at ran. "Received from Ormesby three loads of hay. Sure 'tis a decent neighbor, for he wouldn't take no pay. Entered so, if I ever have the luck, to send it back to him.

"Plow-oxen sick; horse-team sore-backed; seven days' plowing done by Ormesby, say – money at harvest, or to be returned in help stock driving.

"Fifty dollars loan from Ormesby; see entry overdue grocery bill."

"Is it necessary for me to read any more of these?" I asked.

"No. If you are satisfied that he at least recognized the debt, pass on to the other marked pages," answered the writer's daughter.

I set my lips as I did so, for there was only one inference to be drawn from the following entries, which ran dated in a series: "Demand for fifteen hundred dollars from Lane. No credit, ten dollars in the house. Lane came over, and part renewed the loan in return for services to be rendered. Black curses on the pitiless devil! Took twenty head of prime stock, to be driven to the hollow with Ormesby's. Started out with the stock for Gaspard's Trail."

There were no further entries, and Miss Redmond, who had been watching me, said, with a perceptible effort:

"You will remember all those dates well. Now read what is written on the loose leaf. When I came in one night the book lay on the table with that leaf projecting; but as my father was always fretting over the accounts, I did not glance at it as I replaced the book."

The writing was blurred and scrawling – the work of an unstable man in a moment of agony; and some of the half-coherent sentences ran: "It was Lane and his master the devil who drove me. I did not mean to do what I did; but when the fire came down, remembered he said 'any convenient accident.' I knew it was murder when I saw Ormesby with the blood on his face." Further lines were almost unintelligible, but I made out, "Judas. No room on earth. Lane says he is dying fast. You will hate the man who drove me for ever and ever."

I folded up the paper, and, not having read the whole of it, handed it to the girl. "I am almost sorry you were brave enough to show me this; but I can only try to forget it," I said.

Miss Redmond's eyes were dry; but she moved as if in physical pain, and clenched one hand as she said: "That secret has worn me down for weary months, and I dare not change my mind again. I shall never rest until it is certain that wicked man shall drive no one else to destruction. You must show Mr. Haldane all you have read."

Haldane laid down the book, and sat silent for at least a minute. "Will you please tell us, Miss Redmond, how far you can allow us to make use of this?" he said.

The girl shuddered before she answered: "It must not be made public; but if in any other way you can strike Lane down, I will leave it you. You can hardly guess what all this has cost me; but, God forgive me, the hate I feel is stronger than shame – and his last words are burned into my brain."

Ailin Redmond rose as she spoke, and I saw that part of Père Louis's admonition had fallen upon stony ground. Her face and pose were what they had been when she had bidden us bring the dead man in. She came of a passionate race; but there had also been a signal lack of balance in her father's temperament, and perhaps it was this very strain of wildness which had made her singing a success.

Haldane, with expressions of sympathy, led her to the door, and returning, sat staring straight before him with a curious expression. "I don't know that the stolid, emotionless person is not far the happiest," he said at last. "She must have suffered a good deal – poor soul; and, even allowing that you had not seen those pitiful papers, I'm doubtful if you acted quite wisely, Boone. However, the question now is: how are we going to use them?"

"Nobody but ourselves must see them," I managed to answer, savage as I was.

"I would make one exception," said the owner of Bonaventure. "That one is the man responsible. It can be no enlightenment to him, and the fact that he would not suspect us of any reluctance to make the most of our power, strengthens our ability to deal with him."

Our conference ended shortly, and when we joined the others I saw that Lucille Haldane had taken Redmond's daughter under her wing. How she had managed it, of course I do not know; but the latter appeared comforted already, and there was a gentle dimness instead of the former hard glitter in her eyes. Then, and it was not for the first time, I felt that I could have bowed down and worshiped the Mistress of Bonaventure.

It was evident that Boone had also been observant, for he afterwards said, with unusual gravity: "Women resembling Miss Lucille Haldane are the salt of this sorrowful world. There was only one I ever knew to compare with her, and she, being too good for it, was translated to what, if only because she was called there, must be a better."

I agreed with his first statement entirely, and took his word for the rest; but made no answer. Boone did not appear to desire one, and again a strange longing filled his eyes while the shadow crept into his face. I remembered it was written that the heart knows its own bitterness.

CHAPTER XXV

A CHANGE OF TACTICS

The fires of sunset were fading low down on the verge of the prairie when I spoke for the last time with Beatrice Haldane, as it happened, beside the splendid wheat. It was changing from green to ochre, and there was a play of varied light athwart the rigid blades, which in its own way emphasized the symmetry of the tall figure in pale-tinted draperies. Miss Haldane was stately of presence, but it was symbolic of the difference between us that while we of the prairie ever turned our eyes instinctively towards the West, she stood looking back towards civilization and the darkening East, with a cold green brilliancy burning behind her head. It matched the face projected against it, which was that of a statue, perfect in modeling, as I still think, if almost as colorless and serene. Beatrice Haldane was very beautiful, and every curve and fold of the simple dress was immaculate and harmonious because it seemed a part of her.

My threadbare jean clung shapelessly about me, there was thick dust on my old leggings and a rent in my broad hat, which trifles were, by comparison, not without significance. Beatrice Haldane was clearly born to take a leading place, with the eyes of many upon her, where life pulsed fastest in the older world. I was a plain rancher, conscious, in spite of theories concerning its dignity, of the brand of rude labor and the stain of the soil; but at least my eyes were opened so that I had seen the utter impossibility of a once cherished dream.

"The prairie is very beautiful to-night, and surely this grain promises a splendid yield," she said. "I am glad that it is so, for it will leave a pleasant memory. I shall probably never stand beside the wheat again."

This, I knew, was true. Beatrice Haldane would leave for Montreal and Paris in a day or two, and, paying Bonaventure a farewell visit, she had ridden over with her father, who had business with me. Strange to say, I could now contemplate her approaching marriage with equanimity.

"There are many drawbacks, but it is a good country," I answered thoughtfully.

Beatrice Haldane looked at me, and again I felt that she could still draw my soul to the surface for inspection if she desired to. I also fancied she knew her power, and wished to exercise it, but not from pride in its possession.

"And yet you can now hardly hope for more than a laborious life and moderate prosperity. The prairie is often dreary, and the toil almost brutalizing. Are you still content?"

The sympathy in the voice robbed the words of any sting, and I answered cheerfully: "It is all that you say; but there are compensations, and I think no effort is thrown away. I can only repeat the old argument. One can feel that he is playing a useful part in a comprehensive scheme even in the muddiest tramp down a half-thawn furrow, and that every ear of wheat called up or added head of cattle is needed by the world. Perhaps the chief care of three-fourths of humanity concerns their daily bread. Of course, our principal motive is the desire to attain our own, and you may not understand that there is a satisfaction in the mere discovering of how much one can do without, and, possibly as a result of this, that one's physical nature rises equal to the strain."

"And what do you gain – the right to work still harder?" she asked. "I can grasp the half-formed ideal in your mind, and it is old, for thousands of years before Thoreau men enlarged on it. Still, it has always seemed to me that the realization is only possible to the very few, and to the rest the result mostly destructive to the intellect."

I laughed a little. "And I am very much of the rank and file; but at least I have no hope of emulating either the medieval devotees or the modern Hindoo visionaries. We practice self-denial from the prosaic lack of money, or to save a little to sink in a longer furrow, and endure fatigue more often to pay our debts than to acquire a bank balance. Yet the result is not affected. The world is better fed."

"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "It seems that whatever your motives may be these things possess virtue in themselves – but the virtues do not necessarily react upon those who practice them."

"That is true," I answered. "Perhaps it is the motives that count."

Beatrice Haldane looked away towards the dying fires. "There was a time when you would not have been content."

The wondrous green transparency had almost gone, the dew touched the wheat, and we stood alone in the emptiness, under the hush that crept up with the dimness from the east, and through which one could almost hear the thirsty grasses drink. I knew now that I had never loved Beatrice Haldane as a man usually loves a woman, but had offered an empty homage to an unreality. Still, the semblance had once been real enough to me, and I could not wholly hold my peace and let her go. Furthermore, both she and her sister possessed the gift of forcing one's inmost thoughts, and there was a power in the quiet voice stronger than my will.

"No. I once had my ambitions and an ideal," I said. "At first their realization seemed possible, but I had my lesson. Even when I knew the ideal was unattainable, the knowledge did not decrease its influence, and now, while smiling at past presumption, I can at least cherish the memory. I think you must have known part of this."

Beatrice Haldane had by knowledge attained to a perfection of simplicity, and, while my own was either the result of ignorance or born in me, we met upon it as man and woman – the latter too queenly to stoop to any small assumption of diffidence.

"I guessed it long ago, and there was a time when I was pleased," she said. "However, it was doubtless well for you that, when contact with the world taught me what we both were, I knew it was impossible. When we met again on the prairie, you could not see that I was not the girl you knew in England. She had, in the meantime, bought enlightenment dearly; though whether it or her earlier fancies were nearer the hidden truth she does not know."

"In one respect you can never change to me," I said. "The sunny-faced girl in England will always live in my memory."

Beatrice Haldane smiled, though the fast fading light showed the weariness in her eyes. "Until you find the substance better than the shadow; and she must always have been unreal. Still, we are not proof against such assurances, and I am even now partly pleased to hear you say so. Do you know that you have shamed me, Harry Ormesby?"

"That would be impossible," I said; and my companion smiled.

"Hold fast by your blunt directness if you are wise," she said. "I was blinded by the critical faculty, and you rebuked me by clinging to your visionary ideal, while I – misjudged you. I do not mind admitting now that it hurt me, the more so when I found that Lucille, being – and there is truth in the phrase – unspotted by the world, believed in you implicitly. It was because of this I allowed you to speak as you have done. I felt that I must ask your forgiveness, because we shall probably never meet again."

Whether Beatrice Haldane was correct in her own estimate I do not know; but she was the most queenly woman I had ever met, and I lifted the rent hat as I said: "Circumstances betrayed me, and you could do no wrong. Even if that had been possible, how far would one suspicion count against all that the girl in England has done for me? Now it only remains for us to part good friends – and with full sincerity I wish you every happiness."

"Thank you," said Beatrice quietly; and without another word we walked back towards the house together through the velvet dusk. I noticed that Lucille glanced at us sharply as we entered.

"You will not forget our appointment in Winnipeg," said Haldane, as they drove away; and I stood still long after the vehicle had melted into the prairie. What I thought I do not remember; but it was with a dreamy calmness that, now the worst had passed, I returned to Crane Valley.

Reluctance mingled with my anticipation when I proceeded to Winnipeg at the appointed time. The harvest was almost ready, and a brief holiday possibly justifiable in anticipation of that time of effort; but the journey was long and expensive, while, after our severe economies, I had fallen into the habit of slow consideration each time I spent a dollar. Steel laughed when I said so, and pointed to the grain. "It's easier to get used to prosperity than the other thing," he said. "There is plenty money yonder to start you again. If necessary you can remember you have earned a good time."

The sight of the long waves of deepening ochre that rolled before the warm breeze was very reassuring, though belief came slowly, and for days I had feared some fresh disaster. Their rhythmical rustle, swelled by the murmur of the wheat heads and the patter of the oats, made sweet music, for their undertone was hope, while the flash and flicker of the bending blades presaged the glitter of hard-won gold – gold that would set me a free man again. Then I was ashamed, and my voice a trifle husky, as I said: "I am certainly going to Winnipeg, Steel. If it had not been for the others the harvest would have left me in the grip of Lane, and now that the time has come I mean to stand by them."

I boarded the cars the more contentedly that there was a note in my pocket from Lucille Haldane. "Father tells me the time is ripe for you and your friends to strike at last," it ran. "I want to ask you to assist him in every way you can; and I wait anxiously to hear of your success."

I did not understand the whole plan of campaign, but gathered that Haldane, with the support of our prairie committee, would make a "bear" attack on the company – which, while Lane held stock in it, had largely financed him – and I looked forward with keen interest to the struggle. We others had done our best with plow and bridle, not to mention birch staff and fork; but we had hitherto acted chiefly on the defensive, and now an attack was to be pushed home with the aid of money and a superior intellect.

Haldane was in excellent spirits when, accompanied by Boone, he greeted me in Winnipeg station. "I feel less rusty already, and you look several years younger than you did a few months ago," he said. "But we have breakfast ready, and can talk comfortably over it."

The meal was a luxurious one, and Haldane's explanations interesting. "Mr. Boone has taken a great deal of trouble to inquire into Lane's affairs, with the assistance of a man Dixon recommended. Considering the difficulties, I hardly think I should have succeeded better myself," he said.

Boone said this was an unmerited compliment; and Haldane laughed. "Well, the result, as anticipated, is this. Lane has most of his money locked up in mortgages which he does not wish to foreclose on immediately, while we conclude that the rest is represented by shares in the Territories Investment Company, which concern proposes to increase its capital, and, as somebody has been trying to sell that stock quietly in small lots, one may decide that he is short of money. We purpose to scare off buyers and depreciate his shares by selling them in handfuls as publicly as possible; or, in other words, to hammer the company."