Stopping in the moonlight, he indicated his rent attire. "I think this speaks for itself," he added humorously. "There's one consolation--the things belong to Carew."

Millicent was glad that he was not going to be serious.

"I remember that you didn't bring much of an outfit," she replied. "I suppose you had one. What became of it?"

"I left it behind, in pieces, on the thorns and rocks along a good many leagues of trail; but it wasn't extensive--when you travel in this country you have often to choose between food and clothes. It was obviously impossible to buy any more, but the day before we reached camp I made Crestwick cut my hair. After a look at myself in Nasmyth's pocket-gla.s.s, I'm inclined to think he was unwarrantably proud of his success."

After that they chatted lightly, until they walked into the glow of the camp-fire, and while Bella and Miss Hume plied Millicent with questions and congratulations, Lisle took up Nasmyth's repeating rifle and fired it several times.

"That will bring the boys in," he explained. "Now I'll get Miss Gladwyne's supper."

During the meal the others came back and when they had all a.s.sembled, looking the worse for their scramble through the bush, Crestwick, who had occasional lapses from good behavior, addressed them collectively.

"Wasn't I right?" he asked. "I offered anybody three to one that Lisle would be the first to find her."

"Then you ought to be ashamed of it, after the expensive way in which your confidence in your opinions has often been shown to be mistaken,"

declared Bella. "Besides, you promised me you wouldn't waste your money that way again!"

"This time I was backing a moral certainty," Crestwick rejoined. "That isn't gambling; if you're not convinced, you can ask the others on what grounds they were so unwilling to take me."

Receiving no encouragement, he addressed Millicent, who was extremely vexed with him.

"I suppose you know that you have given us all a good deal of anxiety.

You ought to feel contrite."

"I'm not sorry if I've given you a good deal of trouble," Millicent retorted. "You were a long time in coming to my rescue."

"That," he exclaimed, "is just the kind of thing Bella used to delight in saying, though I'll own that she's been much more civil lately. It's possible that Carew's patience is not so long as mine."

"Aren't you getting rather personal?" Carew hinted.

Crestwick subsided with an indulgent grimace, but when they retired to their shelter Lisle turned upon him.

"It struck me that those jokes of yours were in what you would call uncommonly bad form," he said. "It would be better if you didn't make any more of them."

"Bella doesn't mind; she's used to me," Crestwick grinned.

"I wasn't referring to Bella--she has somebody to take care of her."

"And Miss Gladwyne hasn't? Still, that's her own fault, isn't it? In my opinion, she has only to say the word." He paused, seeing his companion's face in the moonlight, for its expression was not encouraging. "Oh, well!" he added, "you needn't lose your temper. There are people who can never see when a thing's humorous; I'll wind up."

In the meanwhile Millicent sat in the entrance of her tent, looking out between the dark trunks of the cedars on the glittering river. It sluiced by, lapping noisily upon the shingle, lined with streaks of froth, and the roar of the neighboring fall filled the lonely gorge. The wildness of her surroundings had its charm; she had been happier among them than she had been at any time during the last twelve months in England, and now she was uneasily conscious of the reason. Lisle's constant watchfulness over her comfort, his cheery conversation, even the sight of him when he was too busy to talk, were strangely pleasant. She realized why she had made him take the harder way in helping her down from the rock and the knowledge was disconcerting. She had been afraid to trust herself to the clasp of his arms, but not because of any want of confidence in him.

Then she saw Carew kiss Bella among the cedars before she left him to walk toward the tent, and the sight stirred her blood. It was clear that she must be on her guard; her guide must be kept firmly at a distance, though this promised to be difficult. She was, to all intents and purposes, pledged to Clarence; and until Bella joined her she tried to fix her thoughts on him, wondering where he was and what he was doing, without being able to find much interest in the question.

As it happened, Clarence was then sitting in a luxurious parlor-car as a big west-bound train sped through the forests of Ontario, but his face was troubled and he felt ill at ease. A little more than a fortnight earlier he had met Marple at a Swiss hotel, and the man had informed him that Miss Gladwyne and Miss Hume had sailed for Canada. Nasmyth, he added, had gone by a previous steamer, to make arrangements for some journey they wished to undertake. This was the first intimation Clarence had received. Millicent had written to him on the day before she sailed, but the letter, following him to one of the Italian valleys, had not yet reached him, and he was filled with consternation. She had stolen away, as if she did not wish to be burdened with his company; she was going to visit the scene of her brother's death, no doubt under the guidance of Lisle, who had strong suspicions concerning it. He might communicate them to Millicent; perhaps he had done so already, which would account for her silent departure. With an effort Gladwyne roused himself to action. He made up his mind to follow her and, if necessary, attempt some defense.

Perhaps, he thought, he could manage to destroy any evidence of his treachery which the Canadian had discovered.

Still, he was tormented by doubts as he lounged in the parlor-car, and, growing restless, he went out on the rear platform and lighted a cigar.

There was faint moonlight, and dim trees fled past him; the rattle of wheels and the rush of the cool wind was soothing. He could not think while he stood holding on by the bra.s.s rail to protect himself against the lurching, and he found a relief in the roar as the great train swept across a foaming river. They had been detained at a junction during the afternoon, and the engineer was evidently bent on making up the wasted time.

Presently the door of the next car opened, and Gladwyne started violently as a dark figure came out on to the platform.

"Batley!" he cried. "What in the name of wonder has brought you here!"

Batley moving forward into the moonlight, regarded him with a mocking smile.

"Nothing very remarkable; I'd several motives. For one thing, I felt I'd like the trip--had a stroke of luck not long ago which justified the expense. British Columbia's nowadays almost as accessible as parts of Norway, where I've generally gone to, and I understand it's wilder."

"But how is it I haven't seen you on the train?" Gladwyne asked, in no way rea.s.sured by the man's careless explanation.

"I only got on at the last junction." Batley's tone was significant as he proceeded. "I was too late for your Allan boat; when I inquired about you in London I found that you had gone; but I caught the next New York Cunarder and came on by Buffalo. I suppose you stopped a day or two in Montreal, which explains how I've overtaken you."

"We were held up by ice off Newfoundland."

"Well," suggested Batley, "suppose we go into the smoking end of the car.

I dare say you'd like a talk and it's rather noisy here. Besides, the cinders are a little too plentiful."

They went in and Batley, lounging in a seat, lighted a cigar and waited with an amused expression for the other to begin. Gladwyne was intensely uneasy. It had been a vast relief to be free from his companion, and the last thing he desired was that Batley, who was a remarkably keen-witted man, should go over the track of George's expedition in company with Lisle.

"Now," he said, "I'd be glad if you would tell me exactly why you followed me. The reason you gave didn't seem sufficient."

"Then my other object ought to be clear. You're carrying a good deal of my money; I felt it would be wiser to keep an eye on you. As I said, I'd had a stroke of luck that enabled me to get away."

"I suppose that means somebody has suffered!" Gladwyne, in his bitterness, could not help the injudicious sneer.

"Oh, no," returned Batley good-humoredly. "In this case, I'd set a man on his feet--it's now and then as profitable as pulling one down, and my methods aren't always destructive. The fellow was straight and I'm inclined to believe he was grateful. I don't think he could have found anybody else to back him, but I'm not afraid of a risk." He paused and smiled at his companion. "Sometimes I make mistakes; I did so with you."

Gladwyne flushed, but Batley proceeded:

"I may remind you that when I financed you I was led to believe that you would succeed to a handsome property; not one that was stripped of its working capital. I'll give you credit for misleading me rather cleverly.

All this is to the point, because it explains my watchful att.i.tude.

You're the kind of man I prefer to keep in sight."

Disgust, humiliation and anger possessed Gladwyne, but he knew that he was in his companion's hands, and he did not think that Batley had stated all of his reasons yet. It was possible that he expected to discover something in British Columbia that would strengthen his hold on his victim.

"Well," he replied with an attempt at calmness, "we needn't quarrel, since it looks as if we'd have to put up with each other for some time.

Have you finished what you have to say?"

"Not quite. There's one question yet. When do you expect to marry Miss Gladwyne?"

"What is that to you?" Clarence broke out.

"Just this--I'm anxious to form some idea as to when I'm likely to get my money back. Since Miss Crestwick dropped you, there's only Miss Gladwyne available, so far as I know, and you have got to marry money and do so pretty soon. I'm willing to do anything that may help on the match."

Gladwyne's face burned, he looked savage, but Batley continued to watch him with an ironical smile.

"I don't want to drive you too hard, but I'm only stating an obvious fact," he concluded. "Now I'll leave you to think it over while I interview the porter of the sleeping-car."