Bear and forbear

Miss Dornwood was evidently contrasting her present situation with the happiness which had been her portion during the lifetime of her father. It was not strange that she wept, as she compared the tenderness of her devoted parent with the harshness and brutality of Charles Overton. I had seen enough of him to convince me that she had not exaggerated the truth, and I was so moved by her story that I was ready to do as much as Waddie to assist her. There was nothing said, therefore, about returning to the hotel, and the Belle dashed on her course over the waves.

Tom Walton sat at the helm, drinking in every detail of the young lady’s story, but still, from the force of habit, working the boat with the nicest skill. He made long tacks, and had run nearly over to Port Gunga, so that from this point he could lay a course directly through the Narrows, about fifteen miles distant, without cramping her.

“Do you think his lordship is really a lord?” I asked, when Miss Dornwood had become quiet, and we ceased to hear her sobs.

“I suppose he is. I have no reason to doubt it,” she replied. “He showed me a letter from his father the other day.”

“Who is his father?”

“The letter was signed ‘Dumford.’ He explained that his father was Earl of Dumford, and taking his father’s second title, he was called Lord Palsgrave. I know nothing about these things, and really feel no interest in them. He talks about the nobility of England with a familiarity which indicates a thorough acquaintance, and, as I know nothing about the matter, he might do so with entire impunity. He clings to me all the time. I cannot go out of the house that he does not follow me. He has not left me for so long a time since we first met as he did to-day, when I encountered the bear. Indeed, I have not seen him since; but, then, I was shut up in my room.”

“How did you get out of your prison?” inquired Waddie.

“As soon as it was dark, I went out of the window upon the roof of the piazza, and entered one of the entries by another window. Passing down the back stairs, I came to the grove, and made my way to the place where I had seen your boat. Now, all I ask of you is, to convey me to Mr. Pinkerton’s house. I will give you no further trouble.”

“Indeed, I shall be very glad to serve you to any extent you may require,” said Waddie.

“Thank you; but I shall not have to trouble you any further, and I will pay the boatman for what he has done.”

“Not a penny for me, miss. I should blush if I could take any money for a job of this kind,” protested Tom.

“I really cannot see what motive your guardian has for compelling you to marry this lord,” I added, changing the topic. “He will consent to this, and his consent prevents him from reaping any benefit under your father’s will.”

“I do not understand it myself,” replied Miss Dornwood.

“It would be his policy to withhold his consent, whoever the person may be.”

“So it seems to me; but I hope I never shall see Lord Palsgrave again. Charles knows that I dislike him, and this may be the reason why he persecutes me.”

“Miss Dornwood, I don’t believe this Palsgrave is a lord any more than I am,” I ventured to remark.

“Why, what makes you think he is not?” she asked, astonished at my violent conclusion.

“I saw him get into a buggy and drive off with the drummer that we took out of the burning canal-boat.”

“Is that so?” inquired Waddie.

“His voice sounded a little familiar to me, as I heard him speak to the hardware man.”

“Are you sure it was he?” said Waddie.

“I did not know who it was then; but when I saw them drive off together, I asked the stable-keeper who he was. He assured me it was the English lord. I don’t think the nobility of England, as a general rule, run with hardware drummers.”

“Did the drummer really go away with his lordship?” added Waddie, rubbing his hands, as though he were delighted with the fact; and I think by this time he had some idea himself of defeating the matrimonial project of Lord Palsgrave.

“I could not have been mistaken.”

“A man is known by the company he keeps, and if that Schleifer isn’t a scoundrel, I will never ask the privilege of guessing again. But you must be tired by this time, Miss Dornwood.”

“I am, indeed, very tired. I am not strong, and the excitement of this day has fatigued me very much,” she replied.

“There is a nice little cabin forward, and you shall have it all to yourself. It is now only ten o’clock, and we shall not reach Ruoara before one or two. You can go to sleep just the same as though you were on shore.”

“I could not go to sleep, even if I were at home.”

“Well, you can lie down and rest yourself,” persisted Waddie.

After much persuasion she consented to occupy the cabin, and, as she entered, Waddie closed the doors, for there was sufficient ventilation through the blinds in them. As the Belle flew on her course, dashing the spray smartly over her bow, we sat by the side of the skipper discussing Lord Palsgrave. Certain I was that his voice had sounded familiar to me; but I labored in vain to fasten it upon any person I could recall to mind.

We heard nothing of our lady passenger, and we concluded she had gone to sleep. Tom began to gape fearfully, and I felt very sleepy myself, while Waddie was as wide awake as ever. At the suggestion of the latter, Tom and I wrapped ourselves up in our overcoats, and stretching ourselves upon the scats, went to sleep, leaving him at the helm. It was not necessary that all of us should keep awake, and Waddie agreed to call one of us to take his place in a couple of hours. I do not thick my position was a very comfortable one, for I dreamed that an enormous black bear had squatted down upon my stomach, and insisted upon shaking hands with me. But my hands seemed to be tied behind me, so that I could not comply with his bearship’s civil demand; and the next best thing I could do was to struggle to free myself from the weight that rested upon me, and made me feel very uncomfortable. I continued to labor in this manner, when, instead of throwing off the bear, I smashed the boat beneath me, with a loud crash. I waked under this shock, and started to my feet to escape drowning in the lake.

“Boat ahoy!” shouted Waddie, as I stood up.

Then I realized that the Belle had actually struck something, the shock of which had become part of my vision.

“What’s the matter, Waddie?” asked Tom Walton, who had been aroused by the crash.

“I ran into a boat just now,” replied Waddie, straining his eyes to penetrate the gloom which surrounded us.

“Where is it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t see it, but I hear the stroke of oars.”

“What boat was it?”

“I don’t know, I only got a glimpse of her, as she slid off to leeward of us.”

“Where are we?”

“Right in the Narrows. Finding I was running too close to the Middleport side, I let out the sheet and kept her away. In an instant I struck the boat. There were two men in it, and that is all I know about it. Hold on!” exclaimed he. “Take the helm, Tom, and I’ll light up the lake.”

Waddie had brought with him some bengola lights, with which he purposed to try an experiment in fishing. Taking one of these, he placed it on the well-trap to keep it from burning the deck, and set it on fire. The bengola blazed with a brilliant light, and the lake was illuminated from one side to the other, for in the Narrows it was only a mile wide.

“There it is!” shouted Tom, pointing to a small row-boat, in which were two persons, pulling with all their might towards the Centreport shore.

“Keep her away, Tom,” said I, earnestly. “I want to see who they are.”

Tom let out the sheet, and put the helm up; but the boat disappeared behind the steamboat wharf before we could get near enough to see the faces of the two men.

“No use; they are ashore by this time,” said Waddie.

“I don’t see what anybody should be crossing the lake for at this time of night,” I added. “It is half past twelve.”

“There is something mysterious about that boat,” said Waddie, shaking his head. “The men were not pulling when we struck the boat; if they had been I should have heard them, and not run into her. When they saw or heard the Belle, they must have stopped pulling. They didn’t speak, or make any sound.”

“Of course they must have had a purpose in acting so,” I added, not a little perplexed by the mystery which seemed to surround the movements of the men.

“Why didn’t they speak after I hailed them? If they had been honest men they would have said something after the bump the Belle gave them,” added Waddie, much excited.

“I am afraid there is something wrong,” I continued.

“I don’t know why there should be,” interposed Tom Walton. “It isn’t so very strange that a boat should cross the lake in the night. Perhaps the men are going after a doctor for some one that is sick.”

“Why didn’t they speak when I hailed?” insisted Waddie. “Any honest man would have sung out when we ran into his boat.”

“Perhaps they were frightened,” suggested Tom.

“They did not pull like men who were alarmed when we saw them.”

“Well, I thought they did pull just like men who were scared. They made good time.”

“I’m not satisfied, and I should not be surprised to ace some building blaze up in a few moments,” persisted Waddie.

This remark corresponded with my own thoughts. We were both thinking of fires, for in all the towns upon the lake there had been a large number of them within a few months, all of which were believed to have been caused by incendiaries, though no one could comprehend the motives of the miscreants who set them. In Centreport and Middleport several barns and storehouses had been destroyed, and I was persuaded that the two men in the boat were incendiaries.

“Shall I head her for Ruoara?” asked Tom, while we were discussing the matter. “We are going to leeward now.”

“No; run her for the steamboat wharf at Centreport,” I replied. “I am going ashore to see what those men are about.”

“All right,” added Tom, as he peered through the gloom to make out the wharf.

“What do you say, Waddie? Will you land with me?” I asked, as we approached the wharf. “Tom can land Miss Dornwood at Ruoara, and take us on board when he returns.”

“I don’t know, I don’t exactly like to leave her, since she depends upon me for assistance,” answered Waddie, hesitating. “If the Pinkertons should happen to be away, she might wish to take some other course.”

“I’ll tell you what will do just as well,” interposed the skipper. “I will go with you, Wolf, and Waddie can sail the Belle down to Ruoara.”

“That will fit the case exactly,” replied Waddie, as the boat rounded to at the landing-steps.

Taking our overcoats, Tom Walton and I went on shore. Still we heard nothing from Miss Dornwood, and we thought she was sleeping very soundly, if the shock of the collision had failed to wake her. We went upon the wharf, but we could see nothing of the two men.

“I wonder what boat they came over in,” said Tom, as he descended the steps to satisfy himself on this point.

“Do you make it out?” I asked, following him half way down.

“Yes, it is the Grace’s tender,” answered he.

“There will be a fire over here soon—you may depend upon it,” I continued, as we walked up the steps again. “Nothing would suit me better than to get hold of the villains.”

“I am with you there, Wolf,” added Tom, earnestly. “But, after all, it isn’t so strange that a boat should cross the lake even at midnight.”

“Certainly there is nothing strange in the crossing of the boat, but there is something very strange in the conduct of those men. It is the most natural thing in the world for men to sing out when a boat runs into them; but these men did not open their mouths. When the Belle approached them, their boat was lying on the water, and they were perfectly silent, evidently trying to avoid being seen. If they had pulled straight across the lake, like honest men, I shouldn’t have thought anything of their being out at this time of night.”

“Perhaps you are right,” added Tom.

“At any rate, we can take a turn around the town, where the barns and storehouses are, and see if we can find them.”

We walked along the street by the side of the lake, looking carefully into all the lanes and by-places.