To The West Part 13

"I was, mother, to stop with old 'going, going, gone' so long. Never mind; I'm going to have land of my own, and a house in the woods, where I can go and shoot bears and wolves."

"There, Mr Gordon, my dear, that's how he has been going on ever since he came home."

"Hold your plate for some more gravy," said Esau to me. "That's the worst part of it. I shan't have mother to make hot steak pies and lovely crusts."

"It isn't half so good as I should like to make it, Esau," said the poor little woman sadly; "but do be a good boy, and leave off all that dreadful talk. Mr Gordon don't go on like that."

"No, but he thinks all the more, mother."

"He don't, I'm sure. Now do you, Mr Gordon?"

"I'm afraid I've quite made up my mind to go, Mrs Dean," I said sadly.

"Oh, my dear, don't," she cried. "It's too dreadful. Right on the other side of the world, where there's bears and wolves, and for all we know perhaps savage Red Indians."

"Oh, there are, mother, lots of 'em; and they scallop people and roast 'em."

"Esau!" half shrieked the poor little woman wildly.

"Don't eat 'em afterwards, do they, Mr Gordon?"

"Don't listen to him, Mrs Dean," I cried. "He is saying all this to tease you."

"I thought so," she cried triumphantly. "Then he doesn't mean to go?"

I was silent, and Mrs Dean's knife and fork dropped on the table.

"Tell me--the truth," she cried, rising and laying her hand on my shoulder.

"The truth is, Mrs Dean, that we have both lost our situations, and that I'm afraid Mr Dempster will be so malicious that he will keep us from getting others."

"Yes, I'm afraid of that," she said sadly.

"So as we have heard that any one who likes to try can get on out there, we did think of going."

"And we do think of going, mother dear," said Esau gently. "Come, try and look at it sensibly. I know you will not like me to go, and when it comes to the time, I shan't like to leave you; but I'm such a sleepy-headed chap, I shall never get on here, and if I go over there it will wake me up."

"But I couldn't part with you, my boy," cried Mrs Dean. "I should be all alone. What would become of me?"

"Why you'd go on just as you are, and I should send you home some money sometimes; and when I've made my fortune I shall come back and make a lady of you."

"No, no, no," she said, with the tears running down her cheeks; "I'd rather stop as we are, Esau."

"Yes, but we can't."

"Yes, we can, dear. I've saved a few pounds now, and it only means working a little harder. I can keep you, and I'm sure--"

"Stop!" roared Esau huskily. "I'm ashamed of you, mother. Do you think I'm going to be such a sop of a fellow as to sit down here and let you keep me? I suppose you'll want to keep Mr Gordon next."

"Then you've got nothing to be ashamed of, I'm sure, sir," said the little woman tartly. "What's enough for two's enough for three, and I was going to say, when you went on like that, that if Mr Gordon wouldn't mind, and not be too proud at things not being quite so plentiful, which everything should be clean as clean, it's very, very welcome you'd be, my dear, for you never could have been nicer if you had been my own boy."

"Mrs Dean," I cried, with a curious feeling in my throat, while Esau looked at me searchingly, as if he thought I was going to accept the offer, "that is quite impossible. Neither Esau nor I could do that.

Why, I should be ashamed even to think of it."

"Oh no," said Esau, sarcastically, "it's all right. Let mother do the work, and we two will play at tops and marbles all day."

"Be quiet, Esau. I know you're only teasing. But why not, my dear? I know I'm a very little woman, but I'm very strong."

"It's be quiet, mother, I think," cried Esau angrily. "What do you mean by talking like that to Mr Gordon? I often calls him Gordon, 'cause he's always been such a good chap to me; but I don't forget he's a gentleman's son, and his mother was a born lady. I'm ashamed of you, mother, that I am."

"But it's so dreadful, my boy--worse than your being a soldier. I could come down to Woolwich to see you sometimes."

"No, no, Mrs Dean," I said; "don't say that. It really would be wise for us to go. People do get on out there, and those friends of mine, Mr John Dempster and Mrs John, are going."

"That's it then," cried the little lady angrily. "It's their doing, and it's a shame."

"Here, hold hard, mother!" cried Esau. "I say, is that true?"

"Quite."

"And now you're trying to blind me, Esau," cried Mrs Dean; "but you can't cheat me."

"Who's trying to blind you?"

"You, sir. Just as if you didn't know all the time."

"He did not know, neither did I know till I went up there to-day," I said.

"Ah, I never liked those people. They're only Dempsters, and not content with weaning you away from me, they've done the same now with my boy."

"Did you ever hear such an unbelieving old creature," cried Esau excitedly. "Mr and Mrs John D. going! Why you've coaxed 'em into it."

"You don't deceive me; you don't deceive me," said Mrs Dean, sobbing.

"Be quiet, mother!--But how is it they're going?"

"For Mrs John's health. I told you before they said they might go to Canada."

"So you did."

"Of course you did," said Mrs Dean, scornfully.

"They are going to join Mrs John's brother, who is manager out at a Hudson's Bay Company's station."

"Hudson's Bay," said Esau, making a grimace; "that's up at the North Pole. I don't want to go there."

"Nonsense!" I said; "it's somewhere in British Columbia."