A Countess from Canada Part 21

Mr. Selincourt was not the man to let the gra.s.s grow under his feet when he had any sort of project in hand. He was so rich, too, that his schemes never had to suffer delay from want of means to carry them through. Directly he had made up his mind that he meant to have a fish-curing establishment at Seal Cove, he had the plans drawn for the buildings, work which fell to Jervis and Mary; then, when these were ready, Astor M'Kree was set to work, with as many helpers as could handle a hammer or a saw with any degree of dexterity.

Never had there been such a summer of work at Seal Cove; everyone who could do anything was pressed into service. Some of the Indians, tempted by wages, were set to work, and although they were no good at carpentry, or things of that sort, they did very well at cod-splitting, or, as it was termed, "flaking", and spreading the fish to dry on the flakes, as the structures were called which had been erected on a sunny headland, after the fas.h.i.+on of the fish-flakes at St. John's, Newfoundland, whence the idea was taken.

Already Mr. Selincourt was in treaty for the purchase of land on both sides of the river. He wanted to possess the river frontage on each bank of the water, from the bay up to the first portage; but the drawback to this was that 'Duke Radford owned nearly three quarters of a mile of frontage close to the store, so it was not likely that the owner of the fis.h.i.+ng fleet would get all the ground into his own hands.

Mary had a fancy for geology, and when her father had no need of her help in forwarding his schemes she spent long days in tramping about the woods and the sh.o.r.e, armed with a hammer and a specimen bag, and accompanied by one or two of the big dogs from the store. True to her resolve, she had lost no time in making friends with the great, fierce creatures, which roamed as they pleased in summer, as a sort of holiday compensation for the hard work they had to do in winter, when stores had to be transported by sledges. She had done her work so thoroughly that the dogs became, not merely her friends, but her abject slaves, and were ready at any time to swim the river at her call.

The coast of the bay to the northward was flat and swampy, but southward from Seal Cove it stretched in bold headlands and precipitous rocks for mile on mile, until the mouth of the next river spread acres of swamp 'twixt land and sea. Beyond the headland on which Mr. Selincourt had erected his fish-flakes there extended miles of broken ground, with split rocks and riven cliffs which might have been the result of volcanic upheaval, but were probably only the product of the intense frost of centuries. This was Mary's happy hunting ground, a place full of scientific surprises, and full of dangers too. For the rocks were slippery, the heights tremendous, and a fall in many places must have meant certain death.

Jervis Ferrars had been in his boat one morning along the coast to a certain bay or inlet much beloved of the black-headed gulls. These birds were valuable either for their plucked feathers, or for their skins with the feathers left on. They frequented the inlet in their tens of thousands, and it had occurred to him that it might be good business to secure a couple of thousand skins, and get them dry for packing by the time the next boat arrived, probably in the middle of August.

He had beached his boat, and spent an hour or more wandering round the crags, and planning the campaign against the luckless gulls, which dozed in sleepy content on the sunny slopes of the inlet. Then, taking to his boat again, he pulled himself back towards Seal Cove, maturing his plans on the way. He was pa.s.sing a rocky promontory just before reaching the fish-flakes, when he heard a yelping noise, and, looking up, saw a big dog running to and fro on the rocks in evident distress. But there were so many big dogs running loose in the woods and the wilds at this time of the year, and as they were mostly in distress over something or other, he took very little notice of the creature, and, working steadily on, arrived in due course at the fish shed.

Jervis was tired, having pulled many miles through a choppy sea with the wind against him, and he was thinking that it would be really pleasant to sit writing for an hour or two somewhere out of the roaring of the wind. Entering his office, he took off his jacket and sat down on the rough stool before the equally rough desk where his clerical work was princ.i.p.ally done.

But he had not entered two items in his book of takings when Mr.

Selincourt came in hastily, with a worried look on his face.

"Have you seen Mary in your travels?" he asked.

"No; I didn't even know that Miss Selincourt was at Seal Cove this morning," Jervis answered, looking up from his writing.

"She came down a good two hours before I did; said she wanted to go over the rocks to test some ironstone formation which she discovered the other day. She promised to be back here to meet me when I arrived, but that is three hours ago, and she has not come yet."

Jervis sat looking at him in an abstracted fas.h.i.+on, as if trying to settle some clue which threatened to escape him; then, with a start, he asked: "Had she a dog with her?"

"Most likely; she never moves very far without one or two of those great brutes from the store to keep her company, and a good thing too. I always feel more comfortable about her then, than if she were alone."

Jervis jumped up and began to pull on his jacket with nervous haste. He was remembering the dog he had seen on the rocks an hour or two ago, and the creature's evident distress, which probably meant that Miss Selincourt was in trouble also.

"What is the matter?" demanded Mr. Selincourt.

"Nothing, I hope. But as I came home a while ago from the inlet I noticed a dog on the rocks, a big creature that seemed in trouble. I didn't think much of it then, but of course it must have been the animal that was with Miss Selincourt, so I am going to see if she is all right," Jervis answered.

"I will come with you," said Mr. Selincourt.

"Please, no; I can go faster alone. And if she is not really in difficulties we might both miss her, and have a long, anxious hunt for no purpose at all. If you will walk over beyond the fish-flakes, and come to the rocks from that direction, you will either meet her or meet me," Jervis said, then hurried off to his boat, which was drawn up on the sh.o.r.e at a little distance from the fish shed.

It must have been two miles away, perhaps three, that he had seen the dog, and now he blamed himself because he had not taken more notice of its trouble. The worst of it was, he was not quite sure as to where he had seen the creature. The sky was overcast, and the weather looked so threatening that, unless he could find Miss Selincourt soon, and hurry her home, she would scarcely escape a very bad wetting.

Resting on his oars, he sent out a mighty shout, then waited with every sense on the alert. One minute pa.s.sed-two-and when five minutes had gone he shouted again, following this up with a whistle so piercing that it fetched a distant echo from the rocks.

But was it an echo?

The sound had scarcely died away when it was repeated again. A moment later Jervis heard it yet again, and knew for a certainty that it was no echo, but someone whistling back to him.

The breeze had freshened to a gale that roared in his ears like thunder, as he drew his boat high up beyond reach of the tide that was running in strongly; and when the boat was safe he set out to climb the rocks. Up, and up, a dizzy height he went, finding foothold with difficulty, for what looked like solid rock had a trick of crumbling when stepped upon, just as if it were rotten mortar.

But he reached the top at last, and paused to look about him, holding fast with both hands, for the force of the wind at this height was so great that he feared lest he should be blown away.

On one side was the bay, with great waves, foam-crested, rolling in, to break with a thunderous roar on the beach. Spread out on the other hand was the wild, rocky waste, full of dangers now, for in the deep valleys between great rock boulders the incoming tide was rising and making deep pools where a little before had been dry ground.

It was these pools that Jervis feared. If Mary had slipped into one of these deep places she might easily be caught by the rising flood, and drowned before help could reach her.

The mere thought turned him sick, and he whistled shrilly as before.

The answering whistle came so promptly, and sounded so close, that he started in surprise, then shouted: "Where are you?"

"Here," replied a voice that sounded so close, so audibly that he looked round in mystification. Then he saw a deep gulch yawning below him, and caught the flutter of a handkerchief on the far side. But how could he reach there? Down he plunged with reckless haste, having little or no regard for his own safety-and, indeed, he who hesitated here was lost, for at every step the rock crumbled and slid under his weight.

"It will be queer work getting back!" he said to himself, then pressed onward to reach the side of the gulch, where now he could see Mary Selincourt crouched on a narrow ledge or shelf against a perpendicular cliff, while the water was rising higher and higher, creeping nearer and nearer to where she sat.

How could he rescue her from there? One hope he had, that her shelf might be above high-water mark, in which case patient endurance would be all that was needed until the tide ran out again. A glance at the wall of cliff behind Mary proved this hope to be futile, for the mark of the water showed above her head, and if she were not rescued speedily, he could only stand by and see her drown.

"Are you hurt?" he called out when he had scrambled low enough to talk to her.

"I have twisted my foot rather badly," she said in an exhausted tone, "and I seem to have been shouting and whistling for help for so long. I had great difficulty to make the dog leave me and go for help, but I think it understood at last, because it went off at such a pace."

"Well, we must get you out of this as soon as possible, for the tide is coming up fast. Do you mind a wetting!" he asked, creeping down to the edge of the dividing water, and wondering whether he could wade or if he must swim.

"Mind or not mind, I shall get one, I expect," she answered, with a nervous laugh. "Be careful, Mr. Ferrars, there is a very deep place just below this shelf, and the water showed there before anywhere else; it seemed to ooze up from the bottom."

"I must swim for it, then, I suppose," he said, pulling off his jacket and his boots; then, slipping into the water, he struck out and crossed the strip of rising tide, which lay like a river along the bottom of the gulch.

But when he reached the shelf it was above him, and the cliff was too steep for climbing.

"You must roll off that shelf and drop into the water," he said in a sharp, decided tone.

"Oh, I dare not! I cannot swim, and I might be drowned!" cried Mary, her face turning ashen white.

"You won't drown-I will catch you. But make haste, this water is so cold that I am afraid of cramp," Jervis said, feeling his teeth chatter. Although it was July, there was so much ice in the bay in the shape of floating bergs that the water was of course fearfully chill.

"I can't do it; I simply can't!" she cried, with a shudder. "Mr. Ferrars, I would rather lie here and drown than have to roll off into that dreadful water. All my life I have been a coward, and it is of no use expecting me to be brave now."

"You must do as you choose, of course, as you are too high up for me to be able to reach you," he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could, although his teeth were chattering still; "but all the time you stay there you keep me here, so in compa.s.sing your own death you compa.s.s mine also."

"Go away, Mr. Ferrars, go away, and save yourself," she groaned.

"I cannot, I dare not, plunge into that dreadful water!"

"You must; there is no other way to safety. Come, be a brave girl, and take the plunge," he urged, a note of entreaty coming into his tone, for life was sweet to him, sweeter than it had ever been before, and it was dreadful to think that he must throw it away because this wilful girl refused to allow herself to be saved. But she only covered her face with her hands, moaning and crying because of the panic that had her in its grip.

Then Jervis felt himself lifted higher; the water was rising fast, and now, by straining upward and reaching as far as he could, he managed just to touch the shelf whereon Mary was crouched,

"Here I am. Now, take my hand and come," he said urgently.

She only covered her face with her hands and moaned, but would not stir nor look up.

In that narrow gulch they were sheltered from the wind, but the rain was beginning to pour down in torrents, and Jervis thought grimly that she would soon be as wet as if she had taken the plunge.

He was kicking vigorously in the water, and was thankful to find that, now he had got over the first chill, his teeth were not chattering so miserably.

Another ten minutes, he reckoned, would put him high enough in the water to scramble on to the ledge, and then it would have to be a tussle of physical strength, if necessary, for he meant to save Mary somehow, whether she would let him or not.