Gordon said that he was in Mrs. Acton's hands, and then turned to Nasmyth.

"I've had my say," he observed. "If there's any meaning in my remarks, you can worry it out."

He went away with Acton, and Wisbech looked at his nephew over his cigar.

"Mr. Gordon expresses himself in a rather extravagant fashion, but I'm disposed to fancy there is something in what he says," he commented.

Nasmyth did not answer him. He was, on the whole, glad that Gordon had gone, but he still seemed to hear the river, and the restlessness that had troubled him was becoming stronger. He retired somewhat early, but he did not sleep quite so soundly as usual that night. As it happened, Gordon rose before him next morning. Gordon went out of doors, and presently came upon Miss Hamilton, who was strolling bareheaded where the early sunshine streamed in among the pines. It struck him that he was not the person whom she would have been most pleased to see, but she walked with him to the crown of the promontory, where she stopped and looked up at him steadily.

"Mr. Gordon," she inquired, "what is Laura Waynefleet?"

Gordon started, and the girl smiled.

"I crossed the veranda last night," she told him, when he hesitated before answering her.

The man looked down on her with an unusual gravity. "Well," he said simply, "Laura Waynefleet is quietness, and sweetness, and courage. In fact, I sometimes think it was to make these things evident that she was sent into this world."

He thought he saw a gleam of comprehension in the girl's eyes, and made a gesture of protest. "No," he a.s.sured her, "I'm not fit to brush her little shoes. For that matter, though he is my comrade, Nasmyth isn't either. What is perhaps more to the purpose, I guess he is quite aware of it."

A delicate tinge of colour crept into Violet Hamilton's face, and the man realized that in case his suppositions were correct, what he had implied could hardly be considered as a compliment. He could also fancy that there was a certain uneasiness in her eyes.

"Ah," she said, "perhaps it is a subject I should not have ventured to inquire into."

Gordon smiled rea.s.suringly. "I don't know of any reason why you shouldn't have done so, but I have scarcely told you anything about her yet. Miss Waynefleet lives at a desolate ranch in the Bush.

Sometimes she drives oxen, and I believe she invariably makes her own clothes. I don't think Nasmyth would feel any great diffidence in speaking about her."

He believed this, or at least he strove to convince himself that he did, but he was relieved when the appearance of Acton, who strolled towards them, rendered any further confidential conversation out of the question. Gordon set out for Victoria that afternoon, and Nasmyth, who went with him to the railroad, returned to Bonavista in a restless mood, and almost disposed to be angry with his comrade for having rudely broken in upon his tranquillity. In fact, he felt disinclined to face his fellow-guests, which was one reason why he was sauntering towards the inlet when he came upon Wisbech sitting with a book in the shadow of the pines. Wisbech looked up at his moody face.

"You are annoyed because Gordon wouldn't stay?" he suggested.

"No," said Nasmyth. "In fact, I'm a little relieved that he has gone away. I naturally like Gordon, but just now he has an unsettling effect on me."

Wisbech made a gesture of comprehension. "That man," he said, "is in some respects fortunate. He has a simple programme, and is evidently more or less content with it. His work is plain in front of him. You are not quite sure about yours yet. To some extent, you feel yourself adrift?"

"I have felt something of the kind."

Wisbech thought for a moment. "I suppose," he said, "it hasn't occurred to you that your cla.s.sical features--they're Nasmyth features--might be of some a.s.sistance to you in your career?"

Nasmyth felt the blood rise into his face, but he laughed. "They certainly haven't proved of any great benefit to me hitherto. It is scarcely likely that they will do so either in the canon."

"Then you are still determined on directing operations in person? I was commencing to wonder if you had any reason for modifying your plans."

The man's tone was dry, but Nasmyth met his gaze, which was now inquisitive.

"If it is in my power to do it, I shall certainly run the water out of the valley," said Nasmyth.

Then he swung round and strolled away, while Wisbech smiled in a fashion which suggested that he was pleased. It was some little time later when Nasmyth, pacing moodily over the white shingle beside the winding inlet, came upon Violet Hamilton sitting in the shadow of a great boulder. The girl's light dress matched the rock's pale tinting, and he did not see her until he was within a yard or two of her. He stopped abruptly, with a deepened colour in his face. Violet made a sign, which seemed to invite him to sit down, and he stretched himself out upon the shingle close in front of her.

"It is very hot in the house this afternoon, but it is cool and quiet here," she observed.

Nasmyth glanced at the still water and the shadow that the pines which clung in the crevices flung athwart the dark rock's side.

"Stillness sometimes means stagnation. Miss Hamilton," he said.

The girl flashed a quick glance at him. "Well," she rejoined, "I suppose it does; but, after all, that is a question we need not discuss. What were you thinking of so hard as you came along? You didn't see me until you almost stepped upon my dress."

"That," said Nasmyth, with a laugh, "is proof that I was thinking very hard indeed. It's not a thing I often indulge in, but I was thinking of the Bush."

"You sometimes feel you would like to be back there?"

"No," answered Nasmyth reflectively; "I suppose I ought to feel that, but I'm not sure that I do."

"Ah," Violet remarked, "you have told me a good deal at one time or another about your life and friends there, but I almost fancied now and then that you were keeping something back. After all"--and she smiled at him--"I suppose that would have been only natural."

Nasmyth raised himself on one elbow, and looked hard at her. "Well,"

he admitted, "there was one thing I did not tell you, though I had meant to do so sooner or later. You see, there was nothing to warrant it in the meanwhile."

"Ah," queried the girl, "it concerns Miss Waynefleet?"

Nasmyth's face grew suddenly grave. He did not ask himself how she came to know. Indeed, for the time being, that did not seem to matter.

There was, it seemed, only one course open to him, and he adopted it.

"Yes," he answered, "I will tell you about her."

He had meant to be brief and matter-of-fact in his narrative, but as he proceeded, the subject carried him away. Indeed, he was scarcely conscious that Miss Hamilton was intently watching him, for once more he seemed to feel Laura Waynefleet's eyes fixed upon his face, and they were clear and brave and still. He spoke with a certain dramatic force, and it was a somewhat striking picture he drew of the girl.

Violet could realize her personality and the self-denying life that she led. It is possible that Nasmyth had told her more than he intended, when he broke off for a moment with a startling abruptness.

"I believe she saved my life," he added. "She certainly gave me back my courage, and set me on my feet again."

Violet looked at him with a strained expression in her eyes. "And because of that she will have a hold upon you while you live."

Nasmyth seemed to consider this. "I think I shall always realize what I owe to her. Still--and how shall I say it?--that recognition is the most I would venture to offer, or that she would accept from me."

He stopped for a moment, and then went on a trifle hastily. "Laura Waynefleet could never have taken more than a half-compa.s.sionate interest in me," he a.s.serted. "There could scarcely be any doubt upon that point."

"You said half-compa.s.sionate?"

"Yes," replied Nasmyth; "I almost think that describes it. You see, I am naturally aware of my own disabilities."

"Still," persisted Violet, "she nursed you when you were very ill, and, as you said, set you on your feet again. That would probably count for a good deal with her."

Nasmyth made a hasty gesture. "You don't understand. She would no doubt have taken pity on any dumb creature. She did it because she could not help it. One could fancy that kind of thing was born in her."

Violet did not speak for a moment or two. Although it still remained uncertain whether the girl in the Bush had any tenderness for the man she had set upon his feet again, he had spoken of her in a manner which did not quite please Violet.

"Well," she ventured, with a little diffident glance at him, "some day you will go back into the Bush."

Nasmyth nodded. "Yes," he said, "I think that's certain. In fact, it's probable that I shall go back very soon. As it happens, I have undertaken a big and rather difficult thing, which will give me a considerable lift up if I am successful."