CHAPTER VII JOY MAKES A REQUEST

AFTER the mid-day meal, at which Joy Gargrave did not appear, Corporal Bracknell left the house, and strolled down the road until he reached the place where the girl had passed him on the previous night. There he came to a standstill, his brow puckered in thought, then he swung to the right into the same path where he had found Koona Dick lying in the snow. He had gone but a little way however, when a noise behind him caused him to look round. Joy Gargrave was following him. He waited for her, and as she came up to him she said, “Mr. Bracknell, do you mind if I accompany you a little way? I should like to talk to you—if I may.”

“It will be a pleasure, Miss Gargrave,” he answered quite sincerely.

“Then if you do not mind we will turn aside into the wood. I—I do not care for this path, now, and we might be seen and interrupted by some one, and I have a request to make of you.”

“I am entirely at your service, Miss Gargrave.”

“Then we will turn—here.”

She indicated a place where the wood thinned a little, and turning with her, he fell into step at her side, and waited for her to begin, wondering what she might have to say to him. Half a minute passed in silence, then she began abruptly: “You will have[72] heard that we are starting for England tomorrow?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Mr. Rayner told me. The decision is rather sudden, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “The journey is a quite unexpected one, just now. We had thought of waiting until the ice broke up and of canoeing down the river. But a letter has just come from Sir Joseph—Mr. Rayner’s father—stating that my presence is required in England at the earliest possible moment. The letter has been delayed, and Mr. Rayner tells me that it is requisite that we should start at once.”

“The business must be very urgent if you have to start on such a long journey at a day’s notice,” commented the corporal.

“It is not altogether that,” was the reply, “though Mr. Rayner insists that it is imperative that we shall make an early start. The truth is—” she broke off, and then resumed in a quavering voice: “I am much upset by that mysterious affair of last night, and, Mr. Bracknell, I am afraid—horribly afraid.”

“Of what?” he asked, looking into her beautiful face to find it white and tense with emotion.

“Of my—my—of Dick Bracknell,” she answered quietly.

“But if he is dead, what—”

“Do you think he is dead?” she cried sharply. “Tell me, Mr. Bracknell, what do you really think?”

“Last night,” he answered slowly, “I had no doubt whatever about it. But today—”

“Yes, today?” she prompted anxiously.

“I am not quite so sure. His complete disappearance[73] perplexes me. If he were dead as I thought, then some one has carried his body away; and if he were not dead, then some one must still have helped him, for he was in no condition to help himself.”

“That is what you think? Mr. Bracknell, do you know that there was a sledge in the wood to the left of that path?”

“I saw the trail,” he answered quietly, “and I saw you following it.”

“Whose sled was it?” she asked thoughtfully. “It was none of ours, and it was not yours, and it could not be that of a miner, for any such would have come to the Lodge, as we keep open house for the men on trail.”

“I do not know whose it can have been,” answered the corporal thoughtfully. “If we knew that we should have the key to the whole of this mysterious affair, possibly. But whoever it was he was anxious as far as possible to cover his tracks. He did not follow the trail up the river. He crossed to the track on the other side, and then turned off into the wood; he lit a fire there. I found the ashes after I left you this morning. He must have halted there for a little time, for the snow was pretty well trampled, and when he resumed his journey, he marched parallel with the river, and descended to the ice again just south of the bluff. I found his tracks coming down the bank there, and I imagine that from the point he must have followed the trail up-river.”

“Whoever could he be?” asked the girl in perplexity.

[74]

“I do not know. But tomorrow I am going to find out; my dogs will be fresh then, and after the rest I shall be able to travel fast. Of one thing I am convinced: whoever the man was he was not your husband. Dick Bracknell, as I said just now, was in no condition to help himself, certainly not to take the trail.”

For a moment Joy Gargrave did not speak, and as he looked at her he wondered what her thoughts were. He was still wondering when she broke the silence.

“Mr. Bracknell, I am afraid, terribly afraid. Somehow I feel that your cousin is not dead. I feel that he will come back here, and that is why we are hurrying away tomorrow morning. The letter from Sir Joseph Rayner serves for an excuse. Do you understand?”

“I think I do,” answered the corporal sympathetically. “You are afraid that Dick, having found out where you are, will return to worry you?”

“You know him, I have told you how I was trapped into marrying him, do you think that he is the man to leave me in peace?”

“He is likely to consult only his own interests,” agreed her companion.

“But I shall be safe from him in England, if what you tell me is true. He dare not go there openly, and if he were to appear at all, I should be able to protect myself, by invoking the police.”

“The police would only be too happy to afford you protection here,” answered the corporal earnestly.

The girl looked at him with grateful eyes. “You[75] mean yourself. Yes! I know, but there is another service that I want from you—”

“You have but to name it, Miss Gargrave,” he answered as she hesitated. “So far as duty allows, I am entirely at your service. Tell me what it is that I can do for you.”

“You can find out for me whether Dick Bracknell is alive or dead.”

The corporal had not anticipated the request, and he was a little startled by it. Instantly his mind reverted to the conversation he had had with Rayner. He recalled the hopes which the latter entertained, and wondered if this white-faced girl at his side was willing to help their realization. As that possibility flashed into his mind, he was conscious of a constriction about his heart. But he gave no sign.

“I should be compelled to do that in any case,” he answered quietly. “I cannot relinquish the work on which I started until I know what has become of the man who is known at headquarters as Koona Dick. Some one must know about him—probably the driver of the sled whose trail I followed, and I’ve got to find out. Vague reports are not regarded as satisfactory by the heads of the force.”

“You will let me know?” she asked instantly.

“I shall be glad to do so,” he answered quietly, and again he was conscious of the tightening about his heart.

“You see,” she explained, “my position is so anomalous. All my little world with the exception of my Newnham friend and yourself, my foster-sister,[76] whom I told only last night, thinks of me as a spinster.”

“You are sure Mr. Rayner does not know of your marriage?” asked the corporal quickly, as a thought struck him.

“I am quite sure,” answered Joy readily, without giving any indication that she found any special significance in the question. “You see the part played by Lady Alcombe was not very credible, and I used my knowledge of it to ensure her silence. I wrote to her and told her that if the wedding was not kept secret, I should proclaim all that had happened to the world. Her vulnerable spot is the position she holds in society, and she knew how that would suffer if it became a matter of common knowledge that for a bribe she had schemed to marry to a scamp an innocent girl left in her charge. She wrote me a short note in reply, in which she said, that she would forget that the marriage had even taken place, and that I need not fear that it would ever become known. That is why I am so sure Mr. Rayner does not know. Lady Alcombe dare not betray me.”

Bracknell nodded. “I dare say you are right, but of course you cannot marry again until you are sure of that—”

“I do not want to marry again!” interrupted the girl quickly, the blood flaming in her pale face. “Why should you think that I do, Mr. Bracknell?”

As the corporal met her blue eyes, clear and unshadowed by guile, his heart grew suddenly light, and on the moment he dismissed from his mind the[77] thought that Joy Gargrave in any way shared Mr. Rayner’s aspirations. He laughed cheerfully as he replied, “I did not say that I thought you wished to marry again, Miss Gargrave. I was merely stating the law on the matter, and there is no personal significance to be attached to such a statement.”

Joy Gargrave smiled austerely. “I am not likely ever to marry again,” she said. “Once bitten, twice shy, you know.”

The corporal smiled in return, but as he marked her loveliness and remembered the figure at which the Northland had estimated Rolf Gargrave’s wealth, he thought to himself that many a man would endeavour to persuade her to a different mind, but he did not say so.

“Miss Gargrave, one never knows what the future holds—but whatever happens you can count me as your friend. I am not proud of my relationship to Dick Bracknell, even though it does make me some sort of a cousin to you. There is nothing that I will not do to serve you, and if anything that I learn will deliver you from your anomalous position, you may rest assured that I will let you know of it at the earliest possible moment.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bracknell,” she answered simply. “I shall be very grateful.”

They walked on a little way without speaking, then she turned to him suddenly. “You are my cousin, more or less, Mr. Bracknell, but I do not know your christian name.”

“It is Roger,” he answered smilingly.

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“And if at any time I want to communicate with you, where—”

“Headquarters at Regina. That will always find me sooner or later, no matter what part of the Territory I may be in.”

“I am glad to know that,” she said, “and if at any time you have news for me, any letter sent care of Sir Joseph Rayner will reach me.” She turned in her steps as she spoke. “I think I had better return now. There is much to do at the Lodge, and they will miss me. But I am glad to have met you, and glad to think that I can count you among my friends.”

She held out her mittened hand, and as he took it Roger Bracknell felt the blood surge warmly in his face, and in his grey eyes as he looked at her there was a flame that had she observed it would have told her that she had secured more than a friend. But she did not see it, and as she walked away there was a pensive look on the beautiful face.

The next day Corporal Bracknell, with his own team ready harnessed, watched Joy Gargrave and her escort take their departure. Four full teams of dogs drew their equipment, and snow having fallen during the night, Joy and her foster-sister wore the great webbed snowshoes of the North. They stood making their good-byes, then the half-breed driver gave the word.

“Mooch! Mooch! Linka!”

The leading dog gave a yelp, and strained at his collar, and a moment later all the teams were moving[79] southward. Joy Gargrave waved her hand as she moved on, and he waved back and stood watching till the cavalcade was out of sight, then turning to his own dogs, he gave the word to move and set his face towards the snowy solitudes of the North.