The Protector

Evelyn was relieved to hear it; but Carroll, who had paused, continued: “As soon as the doctor comes, we’ll make him more presentable; but as I’m not sure about the last bandages I put on, he can’t be moved till then. Afterwards, he’ll no doubt hold an audience.”

There was nothing to do but wait, and Evelyn again summoned her patience. Before long a doctor arrived, and Carroll followed him to Vane’s room alone. The latter’s face was very impassive, though Carroll waited in tense suspense while the doctor stripped off the bandages and bark supports from the injured leg. He examined it attentively, and then looked round at Carroll.

“You fixed that limb when it was broken in the bush?” he said.

“Yes,” said Carroll, with a desperate attempt to treat the matter humourously. “But I really think we both had a hand in the thing. My partner favoured me with his views; I disclaim some of the responsibility.”

“Then I guess you’ve been remarkably fortunate, which is perhaps the best way of expressing it.”

Vane raised his head and fixed his eyes upon the speaker. “It won’t have to be rebroken? I’ll be able to walk without a limp?”

“I should say the latter’s very probable.”

Vane’s eyes glistened and he let his head fall back.

“It’s good news; better than I expected. Now if you could fix me up again, I’d like to get dressed. I’ve felt like a hobo long enough.”

The doctor nodded indulgently. “We can venture to change that state of affairs, but I’ll superintend the operation.”

It was some time before Vane’s toilet was completed, and then Carroll surveyed him with humorous admiration.

“You do us credit, and now I suppose I can announce that you’ll receive?” he said.

Nairn and his wife and Evelyn came in, and the former, who shook hands with Vane very heartily, afterwards looked down at him with twinkling eyes.

“I’d have been glad to see ye, however ye had come,” he said, and Vane fully believed him. “For a’ that, this is no the way I could have wished to welcome ye.”

“When a man won’t take his friends’ advice, what can he expect?” said Vane.

“Let it be a warning. If the making of your mark and dollars is your object, ye must stick to it and think of nothing else. Ye cannot accumulate riches by spreading yourself, and philanthropy’s no lucrative, except maybe to a few.”

“It’s good counsel, but I’m thinking that’s a pity,” his wife remarked. “What would ye say, Evelyn?”

The girl was aware that the tone of light banter had been adopted to cover deeper feelings, which those present shrank from expressing; but she ventured to give her thoughts free rein.

“I agree with you in one respect,” she said. “But I can’t believe that the object mentioned is Mr. Vane’s only one. He would never be willing to pay the necessary price.”

It was a delicate compliment, uttered in all sincerity, and Vane’s worn face grew warm. He was, however, conscious that it would be safer to avoid being serious, and he smiled.

“Well,” he said, “looking for timber rights is apt to prove expensive, too. I had a haunting fear I might be lame, until the doctor banished it. I’d better own that I’d no great confidence in Carroll’s surgery.”

Carroll, keeping strictly to the line the others had chosen, made him an ironical bow, but Evelyn was not to be deterred.

“It was foolish of you to be troubled,” she declared. “It isn’t a fault to be wounded in an honourable fight, and even if the mark remains there is no reason why one should be ashamed of it.”

Mrs. Nairn glanced at the girl rather sharply, but Carroll came to his comrade’s assistance.

“Strictly speaking, there wasn’t a wound,” he pointed out. “Fortunately it was what is known as a simple fracture. If it had been anything else, I’m inclined to think I couldn’t have treated it.”

Nairn chuckled, as if this met with his approval, but his wife turned round and they heard a patter of footsteps on the stairs.

“Yon bell has kept on ringing since we came up,” she said. “I left word I was no to be disturbed. Weel” – as the door opened – “what is it, Minnie?”

“The reception-room’s plumb full,” announced the maid, who was lately from the bush. “If any more folks come along, I won’t know where to put them.”

Now the door was open, Evelyn could hear a murmur of voices on the floor below, and next moment the bell rang violently again, which struck her as a testimonial to the injured man. Vane had not spent a long time in Vancouver, but he had the gift of making friends. Having heard of the sloop’s arrival, they had come to inquire for him, and there was obviously a number of them.

Mrs. Nairn glanced interrogatively at Carroll. “It does not look as if they could be got rid of by a message.”

“I guess he’s fit to see them,” Carroll answered. “We’ll hold the levée. If he’d only let me, I’d like to pose him a bit.”

Mrs. Nairn, with Evelyn’s assistance, did so instead, rearranging the cushions about the man, in spite of his confused and half-indignant protests; and during the next half hour the room was generally full. People walked in, made sympathetic inquiries, or exchanged cheerful banter, until Mrs. Nairn forcibly dismissed the last of them. After this she declared that Vane must go to sleep, and paying no heed to his assertion that he had not the least wish to do so, she led her remaining companions away.

A couple of hours had passed when she handed Evelyn a large tumbler containing a preparation of whipped-up eggs and milk.

“Ye might take him this and ask if he would like anything else,” she said. “I’m weary of the stairs and I would not trust Minnie. She’s handiest at spilling things.”

“It’s the third and I’d better say firmly, the limit,” Carroll remarked. Then he assumed an aggrieved expression as Evelyn moved off with a tray. “I can’t see why I couldn’t have gone. I believe I’ve discharged my duties as nurse satisfactorily.”

Evelyn shared his suspicions. Her hostess’s artifice was a transparent one, but she nevertheless fell in with it. She had only seen Vane in the company of others; this might be the same again to-morrow, and there was something to be said. By intuition as much as reason, she knew that there was something working in his mind, something that troubled him and might trouble her. It excited her apprehension and animated her with a desire to combat it. That she might be compelled to follow an unconventional course did not matter. This man was hers – and she could not let him go.

She entered his room collectedly. He was lying, neatly dressed, upon a couch, with his shoulders raised against the end of it, for he had thrown the cushions which had supported him upon the floor. As she came in, he leaned down in an attempt to recover them, and finding himself too late, looked up guiltily. The fact that he could move with so much freedom was a comfort to the girl. She set down the tray on a table near him.

“Mrs. Nairn has sent you this,” she said, and the laugh they both indulged in drew them together.

Then her mood changed, and her heart yearned over him. He had gone away a strong, self-confident, prosperous man, and he had come back defeated; broken in health and fortune and terribly worn. Her pity shone in her softening eyes.

“Do you wish to sleep?” she asked.

“No,” Vane assured her; “I’d a good deal sooner talk to you.”

“Well,” said Evelyn, “I have something to say. I’m afraid I was rather unpleasant to you the evening before you sailed. I was sorry for it afterwards; it was flagrant injustice.”

“Then I wonder why you didn’t answer the letter I wrote at Nanaimo.”

“For a very good reason; I never got it.”

Vane considered this for a few moments. “After all,” he said, “it doesn’t matter now. I’m acquitted?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you know,” he said, “I’ve still no idea of my offence?”

Evelyn was exceedingly glad to hear it, but a warmth crept into her face, and as the blood showed through the delicate skin he fixed his eyes intently upon her.

“It was all a mistake; I’m sorry still,” she declared penitently.

“Oh,” he said in a different tone; “I wouldn’t trouble about it. The satisfaction of being acquitted outweighs everything else. Besides, I’ve made a number of rather serious mistakes myself. The search for that spruce, for instance, is supposed to be one.”

“No,” said Evelyn decidedly; “whoever thinks that is wrong. It is a very fine thing you have done. It doesn’t matter in the least that you were unsuccessful.”

“You believe that?”

“Of course. How could I believe anything else?”

The man’s face changed again, and once more she read the signs. Whatever doubts and half-formed resolutions – and she had some idea of them – had been working in his mind were dissipating.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve sacrificed the best of my possessions and destroyed the confidence of folks who, to serve their ends, would have helped me on. Isn’t that a serious thing?”

“No; it’s really a most unimportant one; I” – and the slight pause gave the assertion force – “I really mean it.”

Vane partly raised himself with one arm and there was no doubting the significance of his intent gaze.

“I believe I made another blunder – in England. I should have had more courage and have faced the risk. But you might have turned against me then.”

“I don’t think that’s likely,” said Evelyn, lowering her eyes.

The man leaned forward towards her, but the hand he stretched out fell short, and the trivial fact once more roused her compassion for his helplessness.

“You can only mean one thing,” he said. “You wouldn’t be afraid to face the future with me now?”

“I wouldn’t be afraid at all,” said Evelyn quietly.

By and by Mrs. Nairn tapped at the door and smiled rather broadly when she came in; then she shook her head in reproach.

“Ye should have been asleep a while since,” she said to Vane, and turned to Evelyn. “Is this the way ye intend to look after him?”

She waved the girl towards the door and when she joined her in the passage kissed her effusively.

“Ye’ve got the man I would have chosen for ye,” she said.

THE END