Wrecked but not Ruined by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best ereader for pdf and epub .txt) 📖

with Redding--go."

He patted her kindly on the head, and she left him with evident reluctance.

"Good-morning, Mr McLeod," said Redding, as he approached.

"Good-morning," replied the other stiffly, without extending his hand.

Redding flushed, but restrained himself, and continued in a calm matter-of-course tone:

"Thinking it probable that you might be in want of fresh provisions, I have run down with a small supply, which is at your service."

"Thank you," replied McLeod, still stiffly, "I am not quite destitute of fresh provisions, and happen to have a good supply of ammunition; besides, if I were starving I would not accept aid from one who has deceived me."

"Deceived you!" exclaimed Redding, waxing indignant more at McLeod's tone and manner than his words, "wherein have I deceived you?"

As he put the question his mind leaped to the line of demarcation between the properties at Jenkins Creek, and he racked his brains hastily to discover what he could have said or done at their first interview that could have been misunderstood. McLeod was one of those men in whom anger is easily increased by the exhibition of anger in others. It was therefore in a still more offensive tone that he said:--

"Sir, you deceived me by violating the laws of hospitality--by keeping silence when candour required you to speak."

"Sir," exclaimed Redding, still thinking of the line of demarcation, and losing his temper altogether, "in all that has passed between us I have invariably spoken with candour, and if at any time I have kept silence I consider that in so doing I have done you a favour."

When two fiery men clash, an explosion is the natural result.

"Very well, sir," said McLeod, with a look of withering contempt, "as I don't accept your favours, I don't thank you for them, so you may take yourself off as soon as you please."

He waited for no reply but turned abruptly on his heel and walked away, while Redding, with a face of scarlet, strode down the beach and leaped into his boat.

Not a word did he utter to his astonished men beyond ordering them to pull back to the fort. Apparently the rate of rowing was not fast enough to please him, for in a few minutes he ordered Michel to take the helm, and himself seized the oar, which he plied with such vigour that, as Michel afterwards averred, the rudder had to be kept nearly hard a-port all the time to prevent the boat being pulled round even though Le Rue was working like a steam engine and blowing like a grampus!

Towards the afternoon this exercise, coupled with reflection, cooled Reginald Redding's spirit while it warmed his body, and at last he deemed it right to pause for the purpose of letting the men have a pipe and a mouthful of food. While they were busy refreshing themselves he leant over the stern, gazed down into the water, and brooded over his supposed wrongs.

Whether it was the clearness of the still water, through which he could see the little fish and crabs floating and crawling placidly among the pebbles at the bottom, or the soothing influence of the quiet afternoon, or the sedative effect of a reflective condition of mind, we know not, but it is certain that, before the pipes were smoked out, he fur-trader observed that his reflected visage wore a very unpleasant-looking frown, insomuch that a slight smile curled his lips. The contrast between the frowning brows and the smiling lips appeared so absurd that, to prevent the impropriety of becoming too suddenly good-humoured, he turned his eyes towards his men, and encountered the perplexed gaze of Le Rue, as that worthy sat with his elbows on his knees in the calm enjoyment of his pipe.

Redding at once resumed his frown.

"Francois," said he, "did you have much conversation with McLeod before he dismissed you on the way down?"

"Oui, Monsieur, we had ver moche conversatione."

"Can you remember what it was about?"

"Oh oui. 'Bout a'most all tings. I tell him de mos' part of my histoire,--me fadder, me moder, broder, sister, an' all dat, 'bout vich he seem not to care von buttin. Den ve convarsatione 'bout de fur-trade, an' de--"

"Well well," interrupted Redding, "but what was the last thing, just before he sent you off?"

"Ah let me zee. Oui--it was 'bout you'self. I tell him 'bout de property--de Lock Doo vat you was--"

"Le Rue," exclaimed Redding, suddenly and very angrily, "you're a consummate ass!"

"Vraiment," said Le Rue, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, "I am so for remaining in de service of von goose!"

There was such good-humoured impudence in the man's face as he said this that Redding laughed in spite of himself.

"Well," he said, "your readiness to talk has at all events caused bad feeling between me and the McLeods. However, it don't matter. Ship your oars again and give way with a will."

The men obeyed, and as Redding sat buried in meditation at the helm he became convinced that McLeod's anger had been aroused by his silence in regard to the purchase of Loch Dhu, for he himself had almost forgotten that the sudden entrance of the Indian had checked the words which were at the moment on his lips. When he thought of this, and of Flora, he resolved to pull back and explain matters, but when he thought of McLeod's tone and manner he determined to proceed to the fort. Then, when he thought of Roderick's precarious state, his mind again wavered, but, other thoughts and plans suggesting themselves, he finally decided on returning home.

That night he encamped in the woods and continued to brood over the camp-fire long after his men were asleep. Next day he reached the Cliff Fort, when, after seeing to the welfare of the wrecked men, he informed Bob Smart that he meant to absent himself for about a week, and to leave him, Bob, in charge. He also gave orders that no one should quit the post, or furnish any assistance to the McLeods.

"But, sir," said Bob Smart, in surprise, "they will be sure to starve."

"No fear of them," replied Redding, "Kenneth is young and active, and they have plenty of ammunition."

"If report be true," returned Bob, "neither Kenneth nor any of his kin can hit a sheep at twenty yards off. Bellew says they are as blind as bats with the gun."

"No matter. They have a boat, and one of them can row back to Jenkins Creek for fresh meat. Anyway, do as I bid you, and be very careful of the wrecked men."

Smart, although fond of discussion, knew how to obey. He therefore said no more, but bade Redding good-night and retired to his humble couch, which, he was wont to say, was a fine example of compensation, inasmuch as the fact of its being three inches too narrow was counterbalanced by its being six inches too long.


CHAPTER TEN.


A FRIEND IN NEED.

"Look here, my love," said plump little Mr Gambart to his plump little wife, bustling into the parlour with an open letter in his hand, "isn't this vexatious! Just listen--it's from McLeod:--

"`My dear Gambart,--I take the opportunity of Jonas Bellew leaving me
to write a line in reply to your last, which was brought on to me by
the Indian. You will be sorry to learn that the _Betsy_ of Plymouth,
in which all my goods were embarked, is lying here a total wreck, and
the goods have been washed out of her--not a bale or cask saved! But,
worse than that, poor Roderick has been badly injured in getting
ashore, and now lies here unable to move. Many of the poor fellows
who composed the crew have been lost, and those saved are in a sad
condition. I was sorry to hear of Loch Dhu being sold, but now that
my fortunes have been so utterly and literally wrecked it is perhaps
as well as it is. I'm sorry, however, that you bought Barker's Mill
for me. In the circumstances I will find it difficult to repay you
for a long time to come.'

"Now," said Gambart, "isn't this vexing? I thought it would please him so much, for of course he knows that I would never press him for the money."

"Did you tell him," asked Mrs Gambart, "that in the event of his not wanting the mill you would gladly take it yourself?"

"No, I didn't think that necessary."

"Didn't I," continued the little lady, pursing her little mouth, "didn't I advise you to do so at the time?"

"You certainly did, my dear."

"And did I not," continued Mrs Gambart, severely, "advise you, further, _not_ to keep Mr Redding in ignorance as to who was the late owner of Loch Dhu, for fear of mischief coming of it?"

"Yes, my love," answered Gambart, with ever-increasing humility, "but no mischief _has_ come of it apparently, and I thought--"

"Oh yes," interrupted his lady, "I know you _thought_. You always think when you shouldn't, and you never think when you should."

In his heart the little man repelled this accusation, but thought it best in the circumstances to hold his tongue. After a moment or two the lady went on:--

"Besides, you don't know that no mischief has come of it. Take my advice now. Write immediately to Mr McLeod, telling him that you only ventured to buy the mill for him because you were very anxious to secure it for yourself in the event of his not wanting it, and add that in the selling of Loch Dhu you concealed from Mr Redding the name of the former owner because of an absurd fancy in your own mind which it is not worth while to mention."

"Won't that be a sort of humiliating confession?" urged the little man timidly.

To this the little woman replied that it was better to make a _sort of_ humiliating confession than to admit the full extent of his unreasoning stupidity; and the surveyor, half agreeing with her in his own mind, immediately went to his study, wrote the epistle as directed, and sent it off express by an Indian.

Meanwhile the party at the wreck found themselves in the unpleasant condition of having nothing fresh to eat. As we have said, the trapper had left them, knowing that the fur-traders and the Indians were quite capable of looking after their wants. But soon afterwards the Indians went away down the gulf to hunt seals, and none of the McLeods being able to speak their language, they could not, or would not, be got to understand that one of them was wanted to remain and hunt for the sick man. As McLeod had still some provisions on hand, with a gun and ammunition besides his boat, he did not much mind the departure of the red men at the time. As time wore on, however, and their fresh provisions failed, he became anxious, and wished that he had not so angrily declined the aid offered by the fur-traders. Neither father nor son had the slightest taste