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To The West, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 7. My Friends' Plans |
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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. MY FRIENDS' PLANS They were both in the little sitting-room, when Maria, who had given me a very indignant look for dragging her down to the gate, announced the visitor and went away, closing the door more loudly than was necessary, and the reception I had was very warm as they both rose from where they had been turning over some letters together. "Why, Mayne," cried Mr John, "this is an unexpected pleasure," and he made way for Mrs John, who took my hand, smiling in her gentle way, and then turning serious and eager as she exclaimed-- "There is something the matter?" I nodded, for I could not speak. "Some trouble with--my cousin?" "Yes, sir," I said, hoarsely; and for a few minutes the words would not come, the incidents of the past twenty-four hours having upset me more than I was aware. "Don't hurry, my boy, don't hurry; and don't question him, Alexes. Did you walk up?" "Yes, sir." "Ah, a nice day for walking. We two ought to have had ours, but some letters--a little business--kept us in. We have had a very long communication from my wife's brother, and it necessitates a great deal of thinking at our time of life." "I--I have left Mr Dempster, sir," I said. "Indeed! I am not surprised, Mayne, and--bless me! what is the matter with your ear?" The words came now, and I told him everything, while before I had half got through my narrative, Mr John was upon his legs tramping excitedly up and down the little room, and uttering angry ejaculations from time to time. "You--you are not very angry with me?" "Angry?" he cried. "I am more than angry that such a thing could have happened, and the principal actor in it have been one who bears the same name as myself. It is cruel--scandalous--disgraceful; and above all, to have exposed you to such an indignity--in custody like a common thief! But there, you shall not continue in his office." I could not help giving him rather a droll look. "Of course, sir," I said, "I am discharged." "Yes, yes, I had forgotten that," he said, hurriedly. "You must have a better post--one more suited to your abilities. Now, let me see--let me see--what steps ought I to take first? Something in the city, perhaps, or I would rather see you in one of the Government offices." I looked at him wonderingly, as he sat down at the table now, and taking up a letter, used it to tap on the polished wood. "Yes, I think in one of the Government offices," he continued, while I glanced now at Mrs John, whose face was full of the lines caused by her thoughts. As she met my eyes, she gave me a piteous look, and shook her head sadly, as if saying something by way of warning. "Yes, I think decidedly one of the Government offices, my dear, but which?" As he spoke he raised his eyes and looked at Mrs John, who met his gaze with one so full of loving tenderness that it impressed me, and the more that I saw what a change took place directly in Mr John's countenance, ending by his looking down at the letter he held in his hand. "Ah," he exclaimed, "what a miserable dreamer I am! Always the same! Mayne, my boy," he added, piteously, "you must not listen to me. I cannot even help myself, and here am I talking to you in this vain, foolish way." He let his head drop into his hands, and sat bent down till Mrs John went to his side. "Don't give way," I heard her whisper; "it was your good heart that spoke." "My good heart," he said piteously--"no, my weak, foolish, dreaming brain. It was always so, and I have brought you down to poverty like this." She bent lower, and whispered a few words which seemed quite to transform him. "Yes," he cried, with his face flushing, "I am always ungrateful, and letting present troubles set benefits aside. Mayne, my boy, I wanted you to come and see us. I told you that we were going abroad--for my wife's health--I might say for my own," he added, with a smile, "for I am no use here in England." "And you are going, sir?" I said, glad to find that the conversation was changing. "Yes; to join my dear wife's brother. He has sent us an invitation. He thinks I might like the life out there, and he is sure that it will give renewed health to his sister." "I am very glad, sir," I said, holding out my hands to both, "and--very sorry." "To lose _us_," said Mr John. "Yes; now we are getting to know each other so well, it will be painful." "Are you going to Canada, sir?" I said, hastily, for the idea of losing almost my only friends chilled me. "To Canada first, then on by slow degrees to the great North-West. My brother-in-law--did I not tell you?" I shook my head. "He is in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, chief at one of their stations in British Columbia." "British Columbia!" I exclaimed. "Yes. What do you know of the country?" "Nothing, sir, only that one of Mr Dempster's men has a brother there. But it is a rough place, wild, and there are forests. Mrs John could not go there." "No place could be rough or wild to me, Mayne," she said, smiling, "if I could find health and strength." "And you will there, dear," cried Mr John excitedly. "Your brother says the country is lovely, and that the slow waggon journey across, though rough, will be invigorating. It will take many months, Mayne," he continued, speaking as eagerly and joyfully as a boy preparing for a holiday, "but my brother-in-law has sent us ample for our expenses, and he tells us to take our time, and once there I shall easily be able to repay him, either by assisting him, or by means of a farm. Alexes, my darling, I feel now that nature meant me for a farmer, and at last I am going to succeed." "Nature meant you, John," she replied, with a look of pride at him, "for what you are, what you always have been, and will be." "A poor dreamer?" "No, my dear husband--a gentleman." "I thought I was sorry as well as glad," I said, after a pause. "I am now very glad. When do you go?" "As soon as we can make all the arrangements," said Mr John. "But you cannot journey in a waggon by yourselves." "We cannot?" "No, sir; you must join a party--quite a caravan." "That is what Dan said in the letter, dear," said Mrs John. "Of course. My head is in such a whirl. I had forgotten--but you, Mayne, you talk as if you understand all this." "I have beard, sir," I said, colouring a little; "that is all." "But you, my boy?--we can't go and leave you in distress, and without an engagement." He whispered something to her. "I had thought the same," she said, gently; "but I did not think it right to propose it." "Not if he could do better here," cried Mr John, excitedly. "Mayne, my boy, we have only known each other a few months, but it has been enough to make me understand you. My wife will vouch for me. It seems to me that you are alone, an orphan without a chance of raising yourself here: will you come with us to try your fortune in the new land?" "Would you take me with you?" I cried, excitedly. "Take you, my boy?" he cried, "gladly; but, Alexes, speak for me, dear. I am so prone to let heart master judgment. Should I be doing right? Should I be doing right?" There was a silence in the little room which lasted for some minutes, and during that time the shouts of a party of lads engaged in some sport came ringing through the window. "Yes," cried Mr John, "you hear that--boys at play! It seems to me that our young friend here should be engaged as they are, and not be called upon to enter into the struggle for life away in some wild country." "But I have been at work now for years, Mr John," I said. "Yes, my lad, I know, and I want to help you; but misfortune has so marked me for her own that I seem now to have lost all faith in myself." "Have you no relatives, Mayne?" said Mrs John, gravely. "There are people who could help you to some engagement?" I shook my head. "None that I know of," I said. "And when we are gone what will you do?" "Obtain some situation, I hope." "You hope, my boy. It is a poor prospect, that. I do not like to say, come with us to this new land, though I believe any enterprising lad would be sure to make his way." "Then why shouldn't I come?" "Because prosperity will have to be fought for, and obtained at so great a cost. Civilisation has to be left behind. It will be a rough life." "But if a delicate lady could bear it, why should not I?" "I have told you why I could bear it," she said, smiling. "You must not judge hastily, Mayne. I am afraid to say come." "Would you both like me to come?" I said, looking from one to the other. "For our own sakes, yes. For yours we are afraid to speak," said Mrs John, and her husband nodded his acquiescence in her words. "Then I shall come," I said, firmly. "Not with you. I shall go by sea." "You will go?" cried Mr John, looking at me wonderingly. "Yes, sir; and perhaps I shall get there first." "But, my dear boy, how?" "I don't know, sir," I said, laughing; "I am going to talk to a man I know, and--Oh, I had forgotten!" "Forgotten what?" "Esau," I said, "the lad who worked with me in the office." Mr John looked at his wife in a perplexed way. "Let us think about it all," said Mrs John. "This companion of yours-- Esau--do you like him?" "Oh, yes," I cried; "he has always been most kind, and he wants to go with me--for us to be together." I did not grasp it so well then as I did afterwards, though I had an undefined feeling that my fellow clerk's company would not be agreeable to them; and when I left them that night, it was with the feeling that it was quite certain that my new friends would start, possibly before the month was out; while as far as I was concerned, my prospects were very much as they were. _ |
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