Читать книгу The Girl from Glengarry - Ralph Connor - Страница 3

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The Ottawa, tawny and turbulent with spring freshets, rolled majestic, full bank to bank, and flooding the flats, marooning the great elms which stood guard over a little old solidly built log cabin. From across the river upon a curving line of hills the sunset fell in a glow of purple and gold. High upon a cut bank, jutting over the backwater of the overflow, a girl stood outlined against the purple of the hills, slender, lithe, exquisitely formed with soft girlish curves, yet firmly erect upon shapely legs, whose beautiful contours the playful wind clearly revealed. The sunlight turned the little curls of bobbed hair into a tangle of red gold, a striking foil to the transparent clarity of her skin. The face beautifully modelled into lines of strength and tenderness was gloriously lit up by eyes that seemed to catch the flying color from the bunch of blue wood violets at her breast, the same blue, with darker iris rims. A picture of rare loveliness she stood, strength, high courage in her pose, and in her eyes the lure and witchery that is supposed to make men mad.

"Good boy, Paddy! Stick to it old chap." The voice rang out clear and vibrant.

The girl was encouraging a yearling Irish setter pup in a struggle to land a branch of a tree from the river. Cheered on by his mistress the pup pulled and hauled, growling savagely the while, and finally landed the booty.

"Good old boy! Not afraid of water, eh? Fine! Time for home Paddy. Come along."

Paddy frisked and gambolled in a state of high triumph, and ended by leaping up at the girl with his paws on her frock.

"Down Paddy, you beast!" she cried, bringing her leash sharply down upon his nose. The answering howl brought swift penitence.

"Oh Paddy darling! So sorry!" Her arms went round Paddy now wriggling ecstatically his forgiveness. "You have made a mess of me, Paddy, but no matter. Come along! Away you go. I'll race you to the fence."

Like the wind Paddy was away, and like the wind his mistress was after him arriving at the fence in a dead heat.

The fence was an old-fashioned structure of cedar logs built end to end with a cap rail on top. A quick scramble and the girl was over, leaving the puppy behind.

"Ha ha! Fooled you there, Paddy. Come on! Find your own way out. Oh, you great baby!" she cried, taunting him as he began to whine. "Come along till you find a hole," she said setting off up the muddy road, while Paddy whimpering kept leaping at the fence in vain efforts to make exit from the field.

"Oh come on baby!" cried the girl, running along the road. "There are plenty of holes. Don't be a whining quitter." The square little chin carried high was sufficient indication that its owner was no quitter. At length a hole was found and the pup came dashing after his mistress.

Down the road meeting them came a flock of sheep in charge of a supernaturally wise and patient collie. Paddy dashed forward with a joyous bark.

"Paddy! heel sir!" The voice of the girl carried quite unmistakable authority.

Paddy paused, looked back at his mistress and again at the sheep now huddling and backing, held together only by the steady, resolute shepherding of the collie.

Paddy came back slowly and reluctantly.

"Bad dog! 'ware sheep!" said the girl. Catching him by the collar she began cuffing his ears, repeating with emphasis at each cuff, "No, No! 'ware sheep!"

Drawing him close to the fence she held the pup on the leash but loosely, controlling him by word only.

Shivering with excitement, the pup stood trembling as the sheep, with ears pricked forward, sidled past slowly and carefully at first, then at last with a rush. That rush proved altogether too alluring for Paddy's self-control. With a quick spring he dashed for the sheep. The leash was long in the line. Two long jumps the girl allowed him, but at the third and in mid air, with a sharp "No no! 'ware sheep," the girl threw her weight on the line. With a yelp the pup came back in a complete somersault, lay sprawling, then crawled to his mistress's feet.

"Bad dog!" she said sternly, "'ware sheep!" Again she cuffed his ears while he lay belly flat to the ground.

"Ay! Miss Sylvia. It may save him a hanging some day."

"Yes indeed. Besides he must learn obedience. I won't have a dog that doesn't obey me." Two red spots burned in her cheeks.

"It's a guid rule for dowgs, aye an' for men as weel, and indeed it might be for lassies as weel. Wha kens?"

The stern young face softened; the girl smiled a little strained smile.

"You have me there, Mr. Brodie, I guess. But all the same Paddy must obey me," she said looking down at the pup, who was still grovelling abjectly at her feet. "Look at your Heather Bell there, heeding us not a bit, but strictly attending to her duty."

"Aye, she's a canny lassie, but like all lassies she has her times," said Mr. Brodie, gravely shaking his head, "she needs patience."

"Lassies patience? What about the laddies?"

"Aye, they require patience as well, but with a difference. They are slower to learn but surer to bide."

"Surer to bide? You mean they are more dependable?"

"Na na--hardly that--na na not that exactly. Dependable? Na na the lassies are dependable. Yon collie now ye can trust till the deith. But in her there is a wee something incomprehensible. She has her moods and requires patience and understanding."

"Are we all like that? All girls?"

"Ye are as God made ye. An' na mere man can get tae the secret hairt o' ye. Na na, ye need patience and understanding."

"How did you train Heather Bell then? Didn't you have to punish her at times?"

"Aye, I did and sorely, till I maist ruined her entirely. I cam' near to breakin' her, the puir lassie. And a broken dowg is a useless dowg for the sheep."

"And how then did you train her?"

"I made her prood to serve me."

"And now she never fails to obey?"

"Hoots lassie! She has her moods, but less and less."

"And when in her moods?"

"I jist leave her be. I feed her a' the dainty bits, but I give her neither word nor look till she's like tae grieve the very hairt oot o' her."

"Oh Mr. Brodie! But what a terrible thing to do."

"Aye it is. And it's hardest on masel', but we both learn oor lesson by it."

"Did I jerk Paddy too hard?"

"It's no the jerk."

"What then?"

"It's the way ye dae it. It's the same wi' all admeenistration o' justice, human and divine."

"You are too deep for me, Mr. Brodie. I'm only an ignorant girl."

"No that ignorant, lassie, not you. But ye'll heed an auld man that has learnt his lesson by long and sair experience. Will ye forgive me? Justice is a terrible thing, a cold and terrible thing without passion--but maist terrible when administered by love. That's where our law makers and oor law administrators fail us. They rage at criminals. There is nae rage in justice, human or divine. It is inevitable as the march o' the seasons, but like the seasons it is administered by love."

"Poor Paddy," said the girl, stooping to pat the pup still crouching at her feet.

"Na na!" interrupted Mr. Brodie quickly. "Now ye've spoiled it 'a, let him dree his weird."

"What do you mean?"

"Let him suffer oot his punishment. He was wrong. But he would learn better if his punishment came with terrible coldness."

"Oh dear! I shall have to send him to you Mr. Brodie," said the girl in a voice of despair.

"Na na lassie. He's your dowg and your responsibility. An' dootless he'll teach ye as muckle as ye teach him. Guid nicht. It's a lang lang task, but it's worth while." He took off his hat, and with the bow of a great gentleman went his way.

The shadows were lengthening over the fields. The light was still clear in the west, but along the fences it had faded into a soft purple. The girl unsnapped the leash from her pup.

"Paddy dear," she said putting her arms suddenly round his neck, "I'm afraid I shall never be able to train you. It is indeed a terrible business. I love you too much--and yet--and yet--well not just now Paddy darlin'. We will just skip home."

The pup released from her embrace dashed madly about her, now grovelling at her feet, then leaping upon her in the ecstasy of his return to favor.

"Now for a race, Paddy," cried the girl and together they dashed up the road to meet the main Montreal-Ottawa highway, along which the flaming lights of racing motors could be seen.

"Now Paddy, we take no chances here boy. Come back Paddy!"

At that instant from a fence corner under Paddy's very nose jumped a tall Leghorn rooster, and dashed for the highway. The challenge was too direct to be borne. Away went Paddy hot foot on the Leghorn's trail, pointing fair across the highway.

"Paddy come back!" screamed the girl as she saw a north bound car bearing down upon the fleeing rooster. But both bird and dog unconscious of anything but escape and pursuit dashed out upon the road fair in the motor's track with Sylvia in frantic chase.

There was a wild cry, a screeching of brakes as the car came to a halt. A south bound car at high speed, however, suddenly appeared from nowhere. Again there was a wild cry, a screeching of brakes and an agonized yelp. The south bound car swervingly, swiftly went crashing through the paling on to a level sward and came to rest.

From this car a young man hurled himself headlong, scrambled to his feet and rushed on to the road toward the girl sitting there in the dust, dazed and shaken.

"Oh, my God! are you hurt?" cried the young man, lifting her bodily out of the dust and setting her on the grass.

"Oh no, no!" she cried brokenly. "My dog! my puppy!"

"Dog," said the boy. "Thank the good Lord, I thought I had got you!"

The girl staggered to her feet, gazed about her, then ran back up the road where in the dust lay a squirming, shuddering mass that once was her Paddy. Down in the bloody dust she flung herself with a moaning cry.

"Oh Paddy! Darling Paddy. Has he killed you? Oh my dear, my dear!"

The wounded pup lifted its head and turned to lick the girl's hand, whining the while, but not with pain.

"Let me look at him," said the young man. "I know about dogs."

He ran his hands over the limbs, up and down the spine and lifted the legs.

"Say, let me get him to a drug store," he said. He ran to his car and returned with a rug, beautiful and costly. Carefully he rolled the pup in the rug, carried him to the car, and laid him gently on the back seat.

"Get in!" he ordered.

Dazed and shattered in nerve she obeyed. In a few minutes he drew up at the red lamp of a drug store. Into the store he bore the moaning whimpering dog, and carried him straight through to the back shop.

"Hey, what's the game?" said the clerk.

"Here, get me chloroform, and keep the girl out. Get a move on!"

He had a way of getting his orders obeyed.

In a few minutes he called the clerk into the back room.

"Get something for the young lady--something to tone her up, two glasses. And say! Don't fuss--and get a move on. Your chief knows me. Bring the stuff here."

The clerk carried out his orders with swift efficiency.

The young man came out into the front shop carrying two glasses.

"Drink this," he ordered. "We both need it."

Without hesitation the girl obeyed, then turned her blue eyes upon him.

"Paddy?" she whispered.

"No more pain for Paddy," said the young man taking her hand in both of his.

"He is--"

"His back was broken, poor chap. He suffered not at all. Just slept off. Shall I--do you want me to--"

"I want him taken home," she said quietly.

"Right oh. Will you get in please." He took her arm, led her to the car and placed her in the front seat. "Steady there now," he said. "Back in a minute or two."

"Some water, a towel and basin, and move lively."

The clerk impressed by his manner, his dress and by the magnificence of his car lost no time in question or remark.

With capable, swift moving hands the young man cleansed the beautiful golden hair of the setter from mud and blood, handed the clerk a five dollar bill, rolled the body in the rug and carried it out to the car.

"Which way?" he asked.

The girl without a word waved her hand to the right, and the car moved on in the direction indicated.

The driver glanced at her face. A little color was showing in the transparent cheeks. The blue eyes had lost their dazed stare.

"Say! You're a brick!" said the young man. "No use making excuses and lamentations just now. I feel pretty rotten of course about your puppy. Hope you give that full weight."

"Yes!" she whispered. "Oh yes! You didn't see! It was my fault. Should have had him on the leash. I was right after him, when he saw the bird--and--oh I couldn't get him!"

"My soul! I thought I had got you! Lord! what a moment! I shall see that whole business in my dreams! Thank the good Lord! If I had hurt you I should never have got over it! Never!"

"Up the hill to the right, the house among the trees there."

"Say, who is at home? Any man?"

"No. Only my aunt!"

"That's bad. Is she--I mean--How will she take it? Say! Let's drive round and talk about it. I mean, what shall I do with Paddy--that's his name, eh?"

They drove on past the gate, round a block and again on to the highway. Soon they approached the entrance to the side road.

"Let us go down here," said the girl.

Promptly the young man swung the car into the narrow mud road and without a word they rolled smoothly down the slight incline toward the river. By this time the afterglow only was left in the western sky. Over the rolling river a faint haze of purple lay like a shimmering mantle, against the sky stood the elm trees and maples with their tender young leaves, and in stiff serried ranks the dark tall pines and the straight cone-shaped cedars.

As they neared the out-jutting cut bank the girl touched his arm.

"It was here we were--an hour ago," she said.

The car came to a stand. The young man sat looking quietly at the scene before him.

"Mighty fine, eh? You love this spot?"

"Yes, we come here in the summer. Can you see the cabin out there in the water under the elms? Father built that forty years ago."

"Forty years ago!"

"He was just a boy. He lumbered all these hills."

"Lumbered?"

"Yes, he brought mother here from Glengarry when I was a wee girl, so I am a Glengarry girl and very proud of it. Later he cleared the pine forest off--built the old mill--and later the factory."

"By Jove! How splendid! How magnificently splendid! And this was all forest?"

"Yes, all those hills across there--and on this side too. They floated the smaller logs down the river to the mill in booms."

"Booms? I'm a poor ignorant city bum!"

"Yes, the smaller logs they just enclosed in logs bound together with chains and floated them to the old mill. But the great logs were made into square lumber and there were built into great rafts and floated down to Quebec for the European market. Britain used to get her ship's timber from here."

"My soul and body, what a life! What a game! And they just let them go off down the river."

"No, no! They lived on the rafts for weeks. Sometimes built a little cabin on them."

"What a life! And you come here in summer?"

"Yes, we camp in that cabin there. It is quite comfortable."

"Comfortable? I should say! What a glorious camp! By Jove--I say! I mean what a time you must have! What do you do?"

"Oh, we are very lazy. Canoe, swim, the boys fish a bit--and play tennis!"

"The boys?"

"Yes, our working boys--and--and their friends."

"Lucky beggars!"

For some moments they sat silent, their eyes upon the darkening hills across the river.

Then the young man said quietly:

"Say! About Paddy?"

"Yes, we must--"

"I was thinking. Is this your place? This point I mean?"

"Yes all down to the river."

"Well--wouldn't this be a great place for Paddy?"

"I--I was thinking of the garden."

"The garden? Well--but--out here--under the trees--no digging and fussing with planting things--all by himself out here?"

The girl sat for a few minutes thinking.

"Yes, you are right," she said slowly. "I think this is the very spot. We can get the--a spade from Sandy Brodie. He lives just a mile down the road. Yes this is the very spot! And Paddy just adored coming here!" The tears were dropping quietly down her cheeks, but she made no sound of weeping.

On the side hill, in clean yellow sand, in the midst of the scents and sounds that once used to drive him frantic with delight, Sandy and the young man laid Paddy away.

"Ay, it's a couthie corner for a huntin' dowg with the wild things a' aboot him."

They took Sandy home and drove slowly up the road again along the river. As they reached the turn at the cut bank the girl caught the young man's arm with a quick little gasp.

"Look!"

Across the river and resting on the blue line of hills the moon, full orbed and golden, was appearing.

"I say! What a moon! Can't we wait a bit? I'm not strong on moons--but a moon like that on a mountain? Eh what?"

"Lovely, oh lovely," breathed the girl. "Yes it is very lovely.

"Never saw anything like this in my life," said the young man looking at her. "But we really can't see it in the car. Let's get out where we can--can see--I mean--all round you know--everything. Eh what?"

"But we can't stay, my aunt will--"

"Do you never stay out in the moonlight?"

"Oh yes often, I love it."

"Huh! Well, why not now?"

"But--why? I don't even know your name."

"That's easy. How would Jack do?"

"You look like Jack," she said with a little smile, her first that evening.

"Oh you are a brick--and you?"

"Sylvia is my name."

"Just right. Jove! Sylvia! Perfect--'Who is Sylvia?' Of course Sylvia it must be. And in the moonlight too."

"But we must go now--Jack--" she said gently.

"Do you want to go--Sylvia? I mean--just right away?"

"I think we must go. Yes--we must go."

"Right you are." He threw in the clutch. "Whatever you say is right. Will always be right." The car began to move slowly. "And that's the very place for Paddy too. What did the old boy--Sandy say? About a hunting dog, I mean?"

"'A couthie corner for a huntin' dowg with the wild things a' aboot him,'" quoted Sylvia softly.

"Say, isn't that perfect?"

"Yes--oh Paddy darling, I hate to leave you but it is just the place for you," the girl's voice broke.

"For me, Sylvia, I only say with all my heart and soul, thank the good God," said Jack, his voice husky with emotion.

"Why? what do you?--what are you saying?"

"Oh Sylvia! It might have been you. I just had a gleam of you. Just a fraction of a second! Oh, my God! What would have come to me?"

They drove on in silence.

"Yes! The angels sure were there!" said Jack as if to himself.

Ten minutes later they drew up at the house.

"I can't ask you in to meet my aunt, she is out to-night."

"I don't want to come in, not to-night. You don't want me--not to-night--perhaps to-morrow eh? What?"

"Yes--oh yes, to-morrow--Jack."

Soundlessly the car moved off round the drive and out of the gate. The girl stood watching. A hand waved at her. An answering wave and he was gone.

"Oh! I don't even know his name! Well, I needn't tell Auntie to-night, poor dear, she would be full of questions."