"I don't mean to complain. Tom's reasonable; the last time I said anything about being left alone he bought me a pair of ponies. He said I could have either them or an automobile, and I took the ponies. I thought them safer."

Jessy smiled.

"You're fortunate in several ways; there are not a great many people who can make such presents. But while everybody knows your husband has been successful lately, I'm a little surprised that he's able to go into Clavering's irrigation scheme. It's a very expensive one, and I understand that they intend to confine it to a few, which means that those interested will have to subscribe handsomely."

"Tom," explained her companion, "likes to have a number of different things in hand. He told me it was wiser, when I said that I couldn't tell my friends back East what he really is, because he seemed to be everything at once. But your brother's interested in a good many things, too, isn't he?"

"I believe so," answered Jessy. "Still, I'm pretty sure he couldn't afford to join Clavering and at the same time take up a big block of shares in Mr. Vane's mine."

"But Tom isn't going to do the latter now."

Jessy was startled. This was valuable information which she could scarcely have expected to obtain so easily. There was more that she desired to ascertain, but she had no intention of making any obvious inquiries.

"It's generally understood that Mr. Vane and your husband are on good terms," she said. "You know him, don't you?"

"I've met him once or twice, and I like him, but when I mention him Tom smiles. He says it's unfortunate Mr. Vane can see only one thing at a time, and that the one which lies right in front of his eyes. For all that, he once owned that the man is likable."

"Then it's a pity he's unable to stand by him now."

Mrs. Bendle looked thoughtful.

"I really believe Tom's half sorry he can't do so. He said something last night that suggested it--I can't remember exactly what it was. Of course, I don't understand much about these matters, but Howitson was here talking business until late."

Jessy was satisfied. Her hostess's previous incautious admission had gone a long way, but to this was added the significant information that Bendle was inclined to be sorry for Vane. The fact that he and Howitson had decided on some joint action after a long private discussion implied that there was trouble in store for the absent man, unless he could be summoned to deal with the crisis in person. Jessy wondered whether Nairn knew anything about the matter yet, and decided that she would call and try to sound him. This would be difficult, because Nairn was not the man to make any rash avowal, and he had an annoying habit of parrying an injudicious question with an enigmatical smile. In the meanwhile she led her companion away from the subject and they discussed millinery and such matters until she took her departure.

It was early in the evening when she reached Nairn's house, for she thought it better to arrive there a little before he came home. She was told that Mrs. Nairn and Miss Chisholm were out but were expected back shortly. Evelyn had been by no means cordial to her since their last interview, and Mrs. Nairn's manner had been colder; but Jessy decided to wait; and for the second time that day fortune seemed to play into her hands.

It was dark outside, but the entrance hall was brightly lighted and Jessy could see into it from where she sat. Highly trained domestics are generally scarce in the West, and the maid had left the door of the room open. Presently there was a knock at the outer door and a young lad came in with some letters in his hand. He explained to the maid that he had been to the post-office and had brought his employer's private mail. The maid pointed out that the top letter looked dirty, and the lad owned that he had dropped the bundle in the street. Then he withdrew and the maid laid the letters carelessly on a little table and also retired, banging a door behind her. The concussion shook down the letters, and one, fluttering forward with the sudden draught, fell almost upon the threshold of the room. Jessy, who was methodical in most things, rose to pick it up and replace it with the rest.

When she reached the door, however, she stopped abruptly, for she recognized the rather large writing on the envelope. There was no doubt that it was from Vane and she noticed that it was addressed to Miss Chisholm. Jessy picked it up, and when she had laid the others on the table, she stood with Vane's letter in her hand.

"Has the man no pride?" she said half aloud.

Then she looked about her, listening, greatly tempted, and considering.

There was no sound in the house; Evelyn and Mrs. Nairn were out, and the other occupants were cut off from her by a closed door. n.o.body would know that she had entered the hall, and if the letter were subsequently missed it would be remembered that the lad had confessed to dropping the bundle.

It was most unlikely, however, that any question regarding its disappearance would ever be asked. If there should be no response from Evelyn, Vane, she thought, would not renew his appeal. Jessy had no doubt that the letter contained an appeal of some kind which might lead to a reconciliation, and she knew that silence is often more potent than an outbreak of anger. She had only to destroy the letter, and the breach between the two people whom she desired to separate would widen automatically.

There was little risk of detection, but, standing tensely still, with set lips and heart beating faster than usual, she shrank from the decisive action. She could still replace the letter and look for other means of bringing about what she wished. She was self-willed and endowed with few troublesome principles, but until she had poisoned Evelyn's mind against Vane she had never done anything flagrantly dishonorable. Then while she waited, irresolute, a fresh temptation seized her in the shape of a burning desire to learn what the man had to say. He would reveal his feelings in the message and she could judge the strength of her rival's influence over him. Jessy had her ideas on this point, but she could now see them confirmed or refuted by the man's own words.

Yet she hesitated, with a half-instinctive recognition of the fact that the decision she must make was an eventful one. She had transgressed grievously in one recent interview with Evelyn, but, while she had no idea of making reparation, she could at least stop short of a second offense. She had, perhaps, not gone too far yet, but if she ventured a little farther she might be driven on against her will and become inextricably involved in an entanglement of dishonorable treachery.

The issue hung in the balance--the slightest thing would have turned the scale--when she heard footsteps outside and the tinkle of a bell.

Moving with a start, she slipped back into the room just before the maid opened the adjacent door. In another moment she thrust the envelope inside her dress, and gathered her composure as Mrs. Nairn and Evelyn entered the hall. The former approached the table and turned over the handful of letters.

"Two for ye from England, Evelyn, and one or two for me," she said, flashing a quick glance at the girl. "Nothing else; I had thought Vane would maybe send a bit note from one of the island ports to say how he was getting on."

Then Jessy rose, smiling, to greet her hostess. The question was decided--it was too late to replace the letter now. She could not remember what they talked about during the next half-hour, but she took her part, until Nairn came in, and she contrived to have a word with him before leaving. Mrs. Nairn had gone out to give some instructions about supper, and when Evelyn followed her, Jessy turned to Nairn.

"Mr. Vane should be at Comox now," she began. "Have you any idea of recalling him? Of course, I know a little about the Clermont affairs."

Nairn glanced at her with thoughtful eyes.

"I'm no acquainted with any reason that would render such a course necessary."

Evelyn reappeared shortly after this, and Jessy excused herself from staying for the evening meal and walked home thinking hard. It was needful that Vane should be recalled. He had written to Evelyn, but Jessy still meant to send him word. He would be grateful to her, and, indignant and wounded as she was, she would not own herself beaten. She would warn the man, and afterward perhaps allow Nairn to send him a second message.

On reaching her brother's house, she went straight to her own room and tore open the envelope. The color receded from her face as she read, and sinking into a chair she sat still with hands clenched. The message was terse, but it was stirringly candid; and even where the man did not fully reveal his feelings in his words she could read between the lines.

There was no doubt that he had given his heart unreservedly into her rival's keeping. He might be separated from her, but Jessy knew enough of him to realize at last that he would not turn to another. The lurid truth was burned upon her brain--she might do what she would, but this man was not for her.

For a while she sat still, and then stooping swiftly she seized the letter, which she had dropped, and rent it into fragments. Her eyes had grown hard and cruel; love of the only kind that she was capable of had suddenly turned to hate. What was more, it was a hate that could be gratified.

A little later Horsfield came in. Jessy was very composed now, but she noticed that her brother looked at her in a rather unusual manner once or twice during the meal that followed.

"You make me feel that you have something on your mind," she observed at length.

"That's a fact."

Horsfield hesitated. He was attached to and rather proud of his sister.

"Well?" she prompted.

He leaned forward confidentially.

"See here," he said, "I've always imagined that you would go far, and I'm anxious to see you do so. I shouldn't like you to throw yourself away."

His sister could take a hint, but there was information that she desired and the man was speaking with unusual reserve.

"You must be plainer," she retorted with a slight show of impatience.

"Then, you have seen a good deal of Vane, and in case you have any hankering after his scalp, I think I'd better mention that there's reason to believe he won't be worth powder and shot before very long."

"Ah!" exclaimed Jessy with a calmness that was difficult to a.s.sume; "you may as well understand that there is nothing between Vane and me. I suppose you mean that Howitson and Bendle are turning against him?"

"Something like that." Horsfield's tone implied that her answer had afforded him relief. "The man has trouble in front of him."

Jessy changed the subject. What she had gathered from Mrs. Bendle was fully confirmed; but she had made up her mind. Evelyn's lover might wait for the warning which could save him, but he should wait in vain.

CHAPTER XXVI

ON THE TRAIL

It was a long, wet sail up the coast with the wind ahead, and Carroll was quite content when, on reaching Comox, Vane announced his intention of stopping there until the mail came in. Immediately after its arrival, Carroll went ash.o.r.e, and came back empty-handed.

"Nothing," he reported. "Personally, I'm pleased. Nairn could have advised us here if there had been any striking developments since we left the last place."