ACTON'S WARNING

It was with somewhat natural misgivings, the next afternoon, that Nasmyth strolled forward along the _Tillic.u.m's_ deck toward the place where Mrs. Acton was sitting. Immaculately dressed, as usual, she reclined in a canvas chair with a book, which she had been reading, upon her knee. As Nasmyth approached her he became conscious that she was watching him with a curious expression in her keen, dark eyes. The steamer had dropped anchor in a little land-locked bay, and Nasmyth had just come back in the dinghy, after rowing one or two of the party ash.o.r.e. Mrs. Acton indicated with a movement of her hand that he might sit upon the steamer's rail, and then, turning towards him, looked at him steadily. She was a woman of commanding personality, and imperiously managed her husband's social affairs. If he had permitted it, she probably would have undertaken, also, to look after his commercial interests.

"I wonder why you decided not to visit the Indian settlement with the others?" she inquired.

Nasmyth smiled. "I have been in many places of the kind," he answered.

"Besides, there is something I think I ought to tell you."

"I almost fancied that was the case."

"Then I wonder if you have connected me with Martial's disappearance?"

"I may admit that my husband evidently has."

"He told you, then?" And Nasmyth realized next moment that the faint astonishment he had displayed was not altogether tactful.

"No," said Mrs. Acton, with a smile, "he did not. That was, I think, what made me more sure of it. James Acton can maintain a judicious silence when it appears advisable, and there are signs that he rather likes you."

Nasmyth bowed. "I should be very pleased to hear that you shared his views in this respect," he observed.

"I am, in the meanwhile, somewhat naturally rather uncertain upon the point," she returned.

"Well," confessed Nasmyth humbly, "I believe I am largely responsible for your guest's sudden disappearance. It was, of course, almost inexcusable, and I could not complain if you were very angry with me."

"I should, at least, like to know exactly what you did."

"That," said Nasmyth, "is a thing I would sooner you did not urge me to explain. After all, I feel I have done Martial sufficient injury, and I do not think he would like you to know. There are," he added somewhat diffidently, "one or two other reasons why I should prefer not to say anything further, but I would like to a.s.sure you that the explanation one of your friends suggested is not the correct one. I ventured to make this, at least, clear to Miss Hamilton."

Mrs. Acton regarded him with a suggestive smile. "Mr. Martial was not effusively pleasant to you. The affair was premeditated?"

"My one excuse is that the thing was done on the spur of the moment. I should never have undertaken it if I had reflected." Nasmyth made a gesture of submission. "I am in your hands."

Mrs. Acton sat silent for perhaps a minute gazing at the woods that swept round three sides of the little bay. Great cedars and pines and hemlocks rolled down to the water's edge, and the stretch of smooth green brine between them and the steamer flashed like a mirror.

"Well," she said, after a long pause, "I must admit that at first I was angry with you. Now"--and her eyes grew a bit scornful--"I am angry with Martial, instead. In fact, I think I shall wash my hands of him. I have no sympathy with a man who allows himself to be placed in a ludicrously painful position that reflects upon his friends."

"Especially when he has the privilege of your particular favour,"

added Nasmyth.

Mrs. Acton laughed. "That," she returned, "was a daring observation.

It, at least, laid a certain obligation on Martial to prove it warranted, which he has signally failed to do. I presume you know why he took some little pains to make himself unpleasant to you?"

Nasmyth fancied that she was really angry with Martial, and that he understood her att.i.tude. She was a capable, strong-willed woman, and had const.i.tuted herself the ally of the unfortunate man who had brought discredit on her by permitting himself to be shamefully driven from the field. It was also evident that she resented the fact that a guest from her husband's yacht should have been concerned in any proceedings of the nature that the schooner's deck-hand had described.

"I think I suspect why he was not cordial to me," Nasmyth admitted.

"Still, the inference is so flattering that one would naturally feel a little diffident about believing that Martial's suppositions were correct."

"That," replied Mrs. Acton, "was tactfully expressed." She looked at the young man fixedly, and her next remark was characterized by the disconcerting frankness which is not unusual in the West. "Mr.

Nasmyth," she said, "unless you have considerable means of your own, it would be wiser of you to put any ideas of the kind you have hinted at right out of your head."

"I might, perhaps, ask you for one or two reasons why I should adopt the course you suggest."

"You shall have them. Violet Hamilton is a lady with possessions, and I look upon her as a ward of my own. Any way, her father and mother are dead, and they were my dearest friends."

"Ah," agreed Nasmyth, "that naturally renders caution advisable. Well, I am in possession of three or four hundred dollars, and a project which I would like to believe may result to my advantage financially.

Still, that is a thing I cannot be very sure about."

Mrs. Acton gazed at him thoughtfully. "Your uncle is a man of means."

"I believe he is. He may put three or four thousand dollars into the venture I mention, if he continues pleased with me. That is, I think, the most I could expect from him."

Mrs. Acton sat silent a while, and, though Nasmyth was not aware of it, favoured him with one or two glances of careful scrutiny. He was, as she had naturally noticed, a well-favoured man, and the flannels and straw hat he wore were becoming to him. What was more to the purpose, there was a certain graceful easiness in his voice and manner which were not characteristic of most of her husband's friends.

Indeed, well-bred poise was not a characteristic of her own, though she recognized her lack. The polish that she coveted suggested an acquaintance with a world that she had not as yet succeeded in persuading her husband to enter. Acton was, from her point of view, regrettably contented with his commercial status in the new and crudely vigorous West.

"Well," she remarked thoughtfully, "none of us knows what there is in the future, and there are signs that you have intelligence and grit in you." Then she dismissed the subject. "I think you might take me for a row," she said.

Nasmyth pulled the dinghy alongside, and rowed her up and down the bay, but his intelligence was, after all, not sufficient for him to recognize the cleverness with which she led him on to talk about his uncle and England. He was not aware that he had been particularly communicative, but when he rowed back to the yacht Mrs. Acton was in possession of a great deal of information that was more or less satisfying.

The _Tillic.u.m_ steamed away again when the remainder of the party arrived, and she was leisurely swinging over a little froth-flecked sea that night, with the spray flying at her bows, when Acton came upon Nasmyth leaning on the rail.

"I wasn't quite certain what view Mrs. Acton might take of Martial's disappearance," said Acton. "Just now, however, I think that she is rather pleased with you."

"The fact," replied Nasmyth, "is naturally a cause for satisfaction."

Acton appeared amused. "Well," he said, "to some extent it depends upon what views she has for you. Mrs. Acton is a capable woman."

Acton strolled forward, leaving Nasmyth thoughtful. The hint was reasonably plain, but the younger man was not quite sure that he would be willing to fall in with the strong-willed woman's views. There was no doubt that Violet Hamilton attracted him--he admitted that without hesitation--for she had grace and wit and beauty, but she had, also, large possessions, which might prove a serious obstacle. Besides, he was sensible of a tenderness for the woman who had given him shelter and a great deal more than that in the lonely Bush. Laura, however, was still in the wilderness, and Miss Hamilton, whose society he found very pleasant, was then on board the _Tillic.u.m_, facts that had their significance in the case of a man liable to be swayed by the impulses of the moment. By-and-by, he started, for while he thought about her, Miss Hamilton came out of the little companion-way, and stood looking round her, with her long light dress rustling in the breeze, until she moved forward as her eyes rested on him.

Nasmyth fancied that there was a particular significance in the fact that she appeared just then. He walked to meet her, and, drawing a low canvas chair into the shelter of the skylights, sat down with his back against them close at her feet. He did not remember what they talked about, and it was in all probability nothing very material, but they had already discovered that they had kindred views and likes, and they sat close together in the shelter of the skylights with a bright half-moon above them, while the _Tillic.u.m_ lurched on over a glittering sea. Both of them were surprised to discover that an hour had slipped by when their companions came up on deck, and Nasmyth was once more thoughtful before he went to sleep that night.

Next day the _Tillic.u.m_ brought up off a little mining town, and George, who went ash.o.r.e, came back with several letters. Among the letters was a note for Nasmyth from a man interested in land exploitation. This man, with whom Nasmyth had been in communication, was then in the mining town, and he suggested that Nasmyth should call upon him at his hotel. Nasmyth showed Acton the letter.

"I understand these folks are straight?" the younger man remarked with inquiry in his tone.

Acton smiled dryly. "Any way," he said, "they're as straight as most.

It's not a business that's conducive to unswerving rect.i.tude. Hutton has come up here to see you about the thing?"

"He says he has some other business."

"Well," replied Acton, "perhaps he has." Then he turned to Wisbech, who sat close by. "I'll go ash.o.r.e with Nasmyth. Will you come along?"

"No," said Wisbech; "I almost think I'll stay where I am. If Derrick can hold out any reasonable prospect of making interest on the money, it's quite possible I may put three or four thousand dollars into the thing, but I go no further. It's his affair. He must handle it himself."

Acton nodded. "That's sensible, in one way," he declared, and one could have fancied there was a certain suggestiveness in the qualification.

Wisbech appeared to notice it, for he looked hard at Acton. Then he made an abrupt gesture.