CHAPTER VIII.
CLOSE TO PORT.
I need make but brief mention of the long cruise that followed ourescape, of the days that passed slowly while we worked our way down themighty St. Lawrence, out to the open Atlantic by the rocky gates ofNewfoundland, and thence up the coast of Labrador to Hudson Straits. Forthe most part wind and weather favored us, yet it was a matter of sixweeks before we got into the bay and made sail across that inland wasteof water toward our destination, Fort York, which was far down in thesouthwestern corner. The distance from Quebec by land would have beenfar less. Our course, as a map will show, was along the three sides of asquare.
The Speedwell was a sound little ship, and carried a mixed cargo to bedelivered at the Hudson Bay posts. We were well fed and snugly berthed,Miss Hatherton having a cozy cabin all to herself. The crew were goodfellows, and Hiram Bunker was a typical New England skipper--bluff,honest and popular. I did not see very much of him, for he and CaptainRudstone became boon companions and stuck well together. It was the samewith the captain. Indeed, he seemed to take pains to avoid me, exceptwhen others were present, thereby causing me some perplexity andchagrin. And if we happened to find ourselves alone he appeared ill atease, and would look at me in a strange and shifty manner, as though hehad something on his mind. But for all that the time did not hangheavily on my hands, nor was the voyage an uneventful one to me, as Ishall relate in a few words.
It came about naturally enough that Miss Hatherton and I spent the longdays together. In less than a fortnight we were calling each other byour Christian names. Secluded in some nook of the deck, we would talkfor hours, or I would read aloud from one of the few volumes that theskipper's cabin afforded. She told me much of her life in London. Herfather had been a gentleman of some means until speculation wrecked him,and later she confided to me the whole of her sad story.
There was more than I had known before, as Captain Rudstone suggested.It seems that prior to her father's death the only son of Lord Selkirkfell in love with the girl. She did not return his affection, and,indeed, she disliked the young man. But the old lord was either ignorantof this fact or would not believe it. He had higher matrimonial viewsfor his son, and so, in order to get Miss Hatherton out of England, hehatched the plot that resulted in the poor girl making her father asacred promise that she would go to the Canadas and marry GriffithHawke. She had no relatives to interfere, and a cruel disadvantage wastaken of her helplessness and poverty. She spoke of the matter only onthe one occasion, and it did not come up between us again. Nor had I theheart to mention it, since she was clearly resigned to her future.
But I pitied the girl deeply, and I would have been more than human,with the opportunities afforded, had I not fallen a victim to her charmsand loveliness. I did not perceive where I was drifting. I did notrealize my danger until it was too late. In short, I, who had hithertofelt but contempt for all womankind, suddenly discovered that I was aslave to the great passion. It was a sharp awakening, and it destroyedmy peace of mind. To me Flora Hatherton was a divinity, a goddess. Itgave me the keenest torture to think that she would soon be the wife ofold Griffith Hawke. I knew that she was as far out of my reach as thestars above, and yet I felt that I should love her passionately all mylife--that the memory of her sweet face would shatter all the joys ofexistence for me.
I could have cursed myself for being such a fool, and I hated the factorfor sending me on such a mission. It never entered my head to play himfalse and try to win Flora, nor did I believe there was any chance ofdoing so. Day after day we were together, and with Spartan courage I hidmy feelings--or, at least, I thought I was hiding them. It was a hardtask, for every word or look that the girl gave me seemed to turn myblood to fire. That she was indifferent to me--that she regarded me onlyas a friend--I was convinced. I was a youngster and inexperienced, andso I was blind to the girl's pretty blushes, to the averting of her eyeswhen they would meet mine, and to other signs of confusion that Iremembered afterward. To remain at Fort Royal, a witness of GriffithHawke's domestic happiness, I knew to be impossible. I determined toseek a new post, or to plunge far into the northern wilderness, as soonas I should have delivered Flora at her destination.
The days slipped by fraught with mingled joy and bitterness, and atsunset one chilly August evening I stood alone on deck by the portbulwark. The wind was rising, and there was a clammy mist on the gray,troubled waters. We were nearly across the bay, and in the morning weexpected to sight the marshy shores that lay about Fort York. Flora wasin her cabin. She had seemed depressed all day and I remembered that anhour before, when the skipper told her how near we were to land, she hadsmiled at me sadly and gone below. I had no wish for the voyage to end.The thought of the morrow cut me like a knife, and I was lost in gloomyreflections, when a hand clapped me on the shoulder. I turned round witha start, and saw Captain Rudstone.
"A few hours more, Mr. Carew," he said, "and we shall have droppedanchor under the walls of the fort. Do you expect to meet your factorthere?"
"It is doubtful," I replied. "He will hardly look for our arrival sosoon. We took an earlier ship, you will remember, and our passage hasbeen a swift one."
"It was a dangerous passage," he said meaningly--"at least, for you. Itake it you will be glad of a few days of grace. But may I ask--I happento have a curiosity--how this thing is to end?"
"What thing?" I cried, ruffling at once.
"You love Miss Hatherton," he answered with a smile.
I felt my face grow hot.
"Does that concern you?" I demanded curtly. "I will thank you to mindyour own affairs, Captain Rudstone."
"The girl loves you," he replied calmly.
"I don't believe it," said I.
"Bah! you are a blind fool," he muttered. "I gave you credit for moreperception. But it is just as I said--the girl returns your affection.What are you going to do about it? Will you allow her to marry GriffithHawke?"
I could have struck the captain for his jesting tone, and yet at thesame time I detected a ring of truth in what he had said. It flashedupon me that I had indeed been blind, and the revelation thrilled myheart.
"Miss Hatherton is the promised wife of Griffith Hawke," I answeredhoarsely; "and Griffith Hawke is my superior officer. I am acting underhis orders, and I dare not betray my trust. I am a man of honor, and nota knave. I scorn your suggestion, sir."
"Do you call it honorable," sneered the captain, "to help this innocentgirl, whose heart belongs to you, to marry another man?"
I looked at him with some confusion for, to tell the truth, I had noanswer ready to my lips. And just then Hiram Bunker strode up to us, hiscountenance unusually grave.
"It's going to be a nasty night, or I'm no mariner," he exclaimed."There's a storm brewing, and we are perilously near the coast. I don'tlike the prospect a bit, gentlemen."
Captain Rudstone made some fitting reply, but I was in no mood to heedthe skipper's words, or to give a second thought to the prophecy of astorm. I left the two together, and with my brain in a whirl I creptdown to the seclusion of my cabin.
The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada Page 8
