Carmen's Messenger

by Harold Bindloss

  XXVIII

  THE LOG BRIDGE

  Lawrence had gone to his room to rest and Lucy Stephen was sittingalone in the veranda when she heard the roar of an east-bound traincoming up the valley. It stopped, which did not often happen, and sheput down her book and looked out at the opening in the pines that ledto the track. The smoke that rose into the clear, cold air began tomove, and Lucy frowned, because the train had just stopped long enoughfor passengers to alight. Although the hotel was generally full insummer, there were then only a few other guests, quiet people whoseacquaintance she had made, and she did not wish Lawrence to bedisturbed by new arrivals. He was getting better, but not so quicklyas she wished. Besides, she had another ground for anxiety.

  A man came up the road between the pines. It was a relief to see oneman instead of a party, but she went to the glass front and watched himwith keen curiosity. He vanished among the trees where the road curvedand when he came out not far off she set her lips. It was Walters andher vague fears were realized, but he would not reach the hotel for afew minutes and this gave her time to brace herself.

  Ringing a bell, she asked for a telegraph form and hurriedly filling itup, said to the waiting lad, "Take this down to the office."

  The lad wore a smart uniform and was called a page, but he had thepertness that generally marks the bellboy in Western hotels.

  "Certainly, miss. But I reckon I'll be wanted when the stranger who'scoming up the road gets here. Guess it will be all right if I takeyour message when he's fixed."

  Lucy, who scarcely heard, sent the page away. Walters would arrive ina minute or two, and now she had warned Foster she thought she hadbetter not avoid him. If she hid her distrust, she might find outsomething, and she would sooner he saw her before he met Lawrence.There was nobody else in the veranda just then. Walters came in with asmile that somehow intensified her antagonism, but she waited calmly,although she did not give him her hand.

  "It looks as if you were rather surprised to see me," he remarked.

  "I am," said Lucy. "Perhaps that's not unnatural!"

  He laughed and since she did not suggest his sitting down, remainedstanding in a rather graceful pose. She meant to hide her realfeelings if she could, but as she had been angry when he left it wasbetter that he should think her angry now. A marked change in herattitude would be illogical and might excite suspicion.

  "I suppose that means you blame me for Lawrence's illness and haven'tforgiven me yet?" he suggested.

  "I do blame you. You let the guide get drunk and left Lawrence on the_couloir_. Then you were a long time coming back, when you knew thedanger he was in."

  "Well," said Walters in an apologetic tone, "I suppose all this istrue, but I must point out that when we slipped down the gully it wasimpossible to get up again. Then there were some big crevasses in theglacier and I had a half-drunk man to help across; I really didn't knowhe would drink too much when I gave him the flask. However, althoughperhaps I was rather careless, I hope you won't forbid my seeingLawrence."

  "I couldn't forbid your seeing him, as you must know."

  "You couldn't, in a sense," Walters agreed. "Still, of course, yourwishes go a long way with him, and I imagine he is what one might callamenable."

  "I don't understand that."

  Walters smiled. "I always found Lawrence good-humored and it wouldsurprise me if he did anything you didn't like. I don't know that Ican go farther without venturing on an open compliment. But I'manxious to know how he is."

  "He is getting better, but must be kept quiet for some time. But whydid you come here?"

  "It ought to be obvious," Walters replied in a tone of mild protest."You blame me for my friend's illness, and though I don't know what Ileft undone, I am, in a sense, responsible; anyway, I was with him.Well, I found I had to go east, and determined to put off my businessfor a day or two so I could stop over and see how he is getting on."

  "You may see him. But you must remember that he isn't strong and needsquietness."

  "I'll be very careful," Walters said with a grateful look. "May I takeit that your consent is a sign that you'll try to forgive me for myshare in the accident?"

  Lucy forced a smile. "We'll see how you keep your promise."

  She sat down, feeling rather limp, when he left her. He had, on thesurface, taken a very proper line, and his excuse for coming wasplausible, but she knew that it was false. The man had meant to leaveher lover to freeze among the rocks and was horribly clever. It washard to preserve her calm when she hated and feared him, and althoughshe thought she had not acted badly, the interview had been trying.Besides, Lawrence was generous and not very discriminating. Waltersmight find a way of disarming the suspicions Foster had roused.

  When the page showed Walters to his room, he said to the lad, "I wantsomebody to go to the station for my bag. Have they a telegraphoffice?"

  "Yep; I'm going down to send a wire. Office isn't open long. Agentquits as soon as the east-bound freight comes through."

  "I suppose the wire's from Miss Stephen?"

  The page nodded and Walters gave him twenty-five cents. "Well, if youcan wait a little, I'll have a message to send; it will save you ajourney."

  The boy hesitated; but the money banished his doubts. "All right;you'd better get it written. The freight's nearly due."

  Walters went to Lawrence's room before he wrote the telegram, and metLucy again at dinner. There were only two tables in use in the largedining-room, and the waiter sent him to Mrs. Stephen's. Lucy wonderedwhether Walters had arranged this with the man beforehand, but it gaveher an opportunity of watching him and she did not object. Sheadmitted that he had nerve and tact, for although she feared him andher mother shared her distrust, he was able to banish the constraintboth felt and amuse the party. Lucy could not tell what Lawrencethought, but he laughed at the other's stories and now and thenbantered him.

  After dinner Walters left them and when they went; to Mrs. Stephen'ssitting-room Lucy remarked rather sharply: "You seemed to find Waltersamusing!"

  "He is amusing," Lawrence answered. "In fact, the fellow puzzles me."

  "You mean he couldn't talk in that good-humored, witty way if he hadplotted to leave you on the _couloir_?"

  "Well," said Lawrence, "I suppose I did feel something of the kind."

  "I don't know that it's very logical," Lucy rejoined, hiding her alarm."You agreed with Foster's conclusions when he was here."

  "I did, to some extent. The way Jake argued out the matter made thingslook pretty bad."

  "But they look better now? Walters was talking to you in your room?"

  "He didn't say much about our climb; just a word or two of regret forhis carelessness in not seeing what had happened to the guide."

  "Words that were very carefully chosen, no doubt!"

  "Well," said Lawrence, "I'm frankly puzzled; the more I think about ouradventure, the harder it is to decide how much one could hold Waltersaccountable for. It _was_ difficult to throw me up the rope withoutslipping, and there was only a small, projecting rock, on which hemight have broken his bones, to prevent his tobogganing to the bottom.If he had slid past it, he would have been killed."

  "Walters wouldn't hesitate about a risk. It might have looked like anaccident if you hadn't heard Foster's story."

  Lawrence knitted his brows, rather impatiently. "After all, Jake's aromantic fellow, and his explanation's theatrical."

  "You don't like theatrical things," Mrs. Stephen interposed. "You mustadmit that they happen, but you feel it's ridiculous that they shouldhappen to you."

  "I imagine I do feel that," Lawrence agreed with a smile. "When theyhappen to somebody else they're not so unnatural."

  Lucy tried to preserve her self-control, but her tone was sharp as shesaid, "Then you feel inclined to forgive Walters the pain and illnesshe caused you."

  "It would be harder to forgive him your anxiety," Lawrence rejoined,and his face set hard. "In fact, if I knew
he really had plotted thething------" He paused and resumed: "One would be justified in killinga brute who could do what you imagine, but there's a difference betweenhating a crime and punishing the man accused of it before you haveproved his guilt. In the meantime, I'm trying to keep an open mind."

  "But you will be careful and not trust him far," Lucy urged.

  "I'll run no risks; I've some ground for being cautious."

  Lucy said no more. Lawrence was not well yet and sometimes gotobstinate if one argued with him. She thought he would be prudent, butit was comforting to remember that she had telegraphed for his comrade.Unfortunately, she did not know that her message was then in the page'spocket. He had waited some time for Walters' telegram, and when hereached the station found the agent gone. In consequence, fearing areprimand, he resolved to send the messages in the morning and saynothing about the matter.

  The next day was clear and calm, with bright sunshine on the snow, andMrs. Stephen agreed when Lawrence insisted on going for a short walkwith her and some of the guests. Walters joined the party, althoughLucy tried to leave him behind, and they leisurely climbed a windingpath among the pines. The snow was thin and crisp beneath the trees,the air exhilarating, and through openings they caught glimpses offissured glaciers, rocks that glistened in the steely light, andmajestic glittering peaks. The pines were straight and tall, and thegreat soft-colored trunks rose in long climbing ranks against the blueshadow on the snow.

  They stopped for a few minutes at the foot of a crag, and thenLawrence, who had been sitting rather slackly on a log, got up with ashiver.

  "The air's keen," he said. "Can't we go back another way where we'llget the sun?"

  One of the party said there was a lower and more open trail, and theywent down until they reached a narrow track that followed the edge of asteep fall to the river. The hillside above made a sharp angle withthe pines that cut, in scattered cones of somber green, against thelong, glittering slope. Below, the ground dropped nearly sheer to thegreen flood that roared among the ice. Although the trail was safeenough, Lucy kept close to Lawrence and was glad to see Walters talkingto one of the others some distance behind. She felt jaded, for she hadnot relaxed her watchfulness since the man arrived. By and by Lawrencegave her a grateful smile.

  "You look tired; I expect I'm something of a responsibility. If youlike, I'll make an excuse for stopping in until Walters goes."

  "No," she said with an effort, "that would be cowardly and not good foryou. After all, I may be giving my imagination rein; but I wish hehadn't come."

  "He won't be here long. Anyhow, we'll keep out of his way as much aswe can for the rest of the time."

  "That's a relief. Still, I expect you really think you are indulgingme."

  "I don't know what to think," Lawrence replied. "You're clever, andJake, who takes your view, is not a fool. But it doesn't look as ifWalters meant to do me much harm."

  "He can't, so long as you don't give him an opportunity."

  Lawrence's eyes twinkled. "And you'll take care that I don't? Well,it's rather nice to be protected."

  Lucy blushed. "If you would take things seriously sometimes----"

  "If I did, you'd find me dull. Now I like you exactly as you are,except that, in one way, I'd sooner you were not so anxious about me.That's partly why I'm not so serious as you expect I'm afraid you'd getworse if I played up to you."

  "Never mind me," said Lucy. "Only take care!"

  By and by the slope grew gentler, and tall forest crept up the hillwhen they came to a ravine a torrent had worn out of the mountain side.The ravine was narrow and for a short distance below the top the banksshelved steeply; then a wall of rock fell straight to the water thatbrawled in the bottom of the deep gap. The light was dim down there,but one could see livid flashes of foam through a haze of spray. Thetrail had been made by lumbermen or prospectors, who had provided abridge by chopping a big fir so that it fell across the chasm.Somebody had made the passage easier by roughly squaring its uppersurface, though it is seldom a Canadian bushman takes this precautionwith his primitive bridge. There was no reason anybody with normalnerve should hesitate to cross, but the party stopped.

  "You have gone farther than usual to-day, Featherstone, and perhapsyou'd sooner cut out the bridge," said one. "I think we could getround the head of the canon without lengthening the distance much."

  Lawrence smiled. "My object is to keep on going farther than I didbefore, and I don't see why the log should bother me. It's my legsthat are weak--not my head."

  "Very well," said the other. "I'll go first and Miss Chisholm willcome next."

  "Am I to be encouraged or shamed into crossing?" Lawrence asked with alaugh.

  He let them go, and Lucy did not object. Lawrence was not well yet,but she had seen him climb among the crevasses and knew his steadiness.Then, although she did not know how much this counted, she was proud ofhis courage and forgot that physical weakness sometimes affects one'snerve. Walters could not harm him, because he was not near enough.

  When the first two had gone over, Lawrence walked out upon the log.Lucy was not afraid, but she watched and remarked that he seemedunusually careful. After a few paces, he moved slowly, and when nearthe middle stopped. She saw him clench his hands as he tried to bracehimself.

  "Go on, Lawrence," she said, as quietly as she could.

  He moved another pace or two uncertainly, and then stopped again, andLucy struggled with her terror as she tried to think. If he were well,it would not be difficult to turn and come back, or sit upon the log,but either would be dangerous if his nerve had gone. She had failed torouse him and durst not try again. If he slipped or stumbled, he wouldplunge into the canon. It was horrible to reflect that she had allowedhim to make the venture. Then, throwing off the numbing fear, shesprang to her feet.

  "Stand quite still; I'm coming to help you," she said in a strainedvoice and went towards the log.

  Next moment she was seized from behind, and Walters ran past. Shestruggled fiercely, biting her lips as she stopped the scream thatmight startle her lover, and heard the man who held her breathing hard.But he held her firmly and she stopped struggling, with a paralyzinghorror that made her muscles limp. Still, she could see and think, andthe scene fixed itself upon her brain like a photograph; longafterwards she could remember each minute detail.

  The log occupied the foreground of the picture, running boldly acrossthe gap in the pines, with a shadowy gulf beneath. Near the middle,Lawrence stood slackly, with his back to her, and behind him Walterswalked across the trunk. His step was firm and agile, his figurewell-proportioned and athletic, and it was somehow obvious that herelished the opportunity of showing his powers. Afterwards, she hatedhim for his vanity.

  It was plain that little physical help could be given. All that waspossible was moral support; a firm, guiding grasp that would restorethe shaken man's confidence, and the comfort of feeling there wassomebody near who was not afraid. But a very slight push the wrongway, or even an unsteadiness in the hand that should have guided, mightbe fatal. Lawrence was at the mercy of a man who had plotted todestroy him and could do so now without risk. Lucy could not warn him,because if he were startled, he would fall. Waiting in an agony ofsuspense, she saw Walters grasp his shoulder.

  "Steady, partner; we'll soon be across," he said in a quiet, reassuringvoice, and Lawrence's slack pose stiffened, as if he had gatheredconfidence.

  Lucy thought he did not know who had spoken, but the horrible tensiondid not slacken yet, though Lawrence began to move forward. Walterscame close behind, rather guiding than supporting him, and in a fewmoments they stepped down on the other side. Then Lucy gasped and logsand pines got blurred and indistinct. She conquered the faintness andwent resolutely towards the log.

  "Wait and let me help you," somebody said.

  "No," she answered in a strained voice; "I'm quite steady."

  She crossed the log without a tremor and running to where La
wrence satput her arm round him. Lawrence said nothing, but took and held herhand.