"It's devilish," said Seaforth, as a fit of impotent anger shook him.

"Oh, yes," said Alton languidly. "Still, there isn't much use in slinging names, and I'm kind of tired. Help me up into your saddle, and lead the beast by the bridle. We'll head for Gordon's."

CHAPTER XXV

ALTON IS SILENT

There is a ridge of rising ground on the outskirts of Vancouver City where a few years ago a pretty wooden house stood beneath the pines.

They rose sombrely behind it, but the axe had let in the sunlight between the rise and the water, and one could look out from the trim garden across the blue inlet towards the ranges' snow. To-day one would in all probability look for that dwelling in vain, and find only stores or great stone buildings, for as the silent men with the axes push the lonely clearings farther back into the forest the Western cities grow, and those who dwell in them increase in riches, which is not usually the case with the axeman who goes on farther into the bush again.

Still, one moonlight evening, when Alton waited upon its verandah, cigar in hand, the house stood upon the hillside, picturesque with its painted scroll-work, green shutters, colonnades of cedar pillars, and broad verandahs. Its owner was an Englishman who had prospered in the Dominion, and combined the kindliness he still retained for his countrymen with the lavish hospitality of the West. He knew Alton by reputation, and having business with him had made him free of his house when he inquired for Deringham, who was his guest, during the former's absence in the State of Washington. That was how Alton came to be waiting for dinner in company with a young naval officer. Deringham and his daughter had returned during the day, but they had driven somewhere with their hostess and not come back as yet.

Alton had seen Commander Thorne for the first time that day, but some friendships are made rapidly and without an effort, and he was already sensible of a regard for his companion. He was a quiet and unobtrusive Englishman, with the steadiness of gaze and decisiveness of speech which characterized those who command at sea, and had discovered that he had, notwithstanding the difference in their vocations, much in common with rancher Alton.

"Yes," he said. "It is very good of you, and if we stay at Esquimault I will come up and spend a day or two among the deer. Atkinson told us what a good time he had with you, but we were a trifle astonished to see the fine wapiti head he brought back with him."

There was a faint twinkle in the speaker's eyes which Alton understood, for Atkinson, who was not an adept at trailing deer, had shot more than a wapiti. Still, he was not the man to allude to the misadventures of his guest.

"He killed it neatly--a good hundred yards, and in the fern," he said.

"Well," said Thorne with a little laugh, "you were with him, and know best. You had, however, a tolerably mixed bag on that occasion?"

Alton checked a smile. "A wapiti, a wood deer--and sundries."

Thorne laughed again. "I wonder if you have forgotten the hog? You see, Atkinson told us one night at mess, and I was inclined to fancy he came near including you in the bag."

Alton's face was suspiciously grave, but his answer strengthened the incipient friendship between the men.

"It is a little difficult for a stranger to distinguish things in the bush."

Thorne nodded. "You had Deringham and Miss Deringham staying with you?"

"Yes," said Alton. "They are connections of mine, and Miss Deringham did a good deal for me when I was sick a little while ago. You knew them in the old country?"

There was, though he strove to suppress it, something in his voice which caused the naval officer to glance at him sharply. "Oh, yes," he said. "I knew them--rather well."

The men's eyes met, and both were conscious that the words might have been amplified, while it was with a slight abruptness they returned to the previous topic and discussed it until there was a rattle of wheels in the drive. Then Forel, their host, came out upon the verandah, and there was a hum of voices as several people descended from the vehicle beneath.

Mrs. Forel came up the stairway first with Alice Deringham, and when a blaze of light shone into the verandah from the open door Alton saw the girl draw back for a second as her eyes rested upon his companion.

She, however, smiled next moment, and Alton did not miss the slight flush of pleasure in the face of Commander Thorne. He was also to meet with another astonishment, for Deringham and Seaforth came up the stairway next together, and Thorne dropped his cigar when he and the latter stood face to face.

"Charley! Is it you?" he said.

Seaforth stood quite still a moment looking at him, and then, being possibly sensible that other eyes were upon him, shook hands.

"Yes," he said. "I heard the gunboat was at Esquimault, but did not expect to see you."

Then there was a somewhat awkward silence, and Alton fancied that both men were relieved when Mrs. Forel's voice broke in, "Jack, you will look after the men, but don't keep them talking too long. We picked up Mr. Seaforth, and there are one or two more of our friends coming."

Alton followed his host, wondering at what he had seen. It was evident that Miss Deringham had not noticed him, and he fancied she had been for a moment almost embarrassed by the encounter with Thorne. That and what the man had told him had its meaning. He had also noticed that when the latter greeted his comrade there had been a constraint upon both of them, but decided that what it betokened did not concern him.

Returning he found Mrs. Forel waiting for him, and having been born in a Western city her conversation was not marked by English reticence or the restraint which is at least as common in the Canadian bush.

"Dinner is ready, and you will have to talk to me and the railroad man during it," she said. "I had thought of making you over to Miss Deringham until Commander Thorne turned up. Jack and he are great friends, but he didn't seem able to get over here, until he heard Miss Deringham was staying with us."

Alton laughed a little. "Now what am I to answer to that? Miss Deringham was very good to me."

The lady fancied that his merriment was a trifle forced. "You will just sit down, and eat your dinner like a sensible man," she said.

"You are a Canadian and not expected to say nice things like those others from the old country. They don't always do it very well, and, though Jack is fond of them, they make me tired now and then."

Alton took his place beside her, and speedily found himself at home.

Save for the naval officer and two English financiers the men present had a stake in the future of that country, and as usual neither they nor their womenkind considered it out of place to talk of their affairs. They were also men of mark, though several of them who now held large issues in very capable hands had commenced life as wielders of the axe. Most of them had heard of Alton of the Somasco Consolidated, and those who had not listened with attention when he spoke, for it was evident that they and the rancher had the same cause at heart. Alice Deringham noticed this, and, though he was not conscious of it, little Alton did that night escaped her attention.

She saw that while he rarely asserted himself, these men, whom she knew were regarded with respect as leaders of great industries, accepted him as an equal when they had heard him speak, but that caused her less surprise than the fashion in which he adapted himself to his surroundings. She had already discovered that he was a man with abilities and ambitions, but she had only seen him amidst the grim simplicity of the Somasco ranch, and now there was no trifling lapse or momentary embarrassments to show that he found the changed conditions incongruous. His dress was also different, but he wore his city garments as though he had worn nothing else, and there was, she fancied, an indefinite stamp of something which almost amounted to distinction upon him that set him apart from the rest. Even Seaforth wondered a little at his comrade, but both he and Alice Deringham overlooked the fact that Alton had not spent his whole life at Somasco ranch.

He, on his part, as the girl was quite aware, glanced often at her.

She did not, however, meet his gaze, for once Alton was on the way to recovery, she had left the ranch somewhat hastily, and there had been as yet no defining of the relations between them, while neither she nor her father were cognizant of the actual cause of his wound. In the meanwhile she made the most of Thorne, and by degrees Alton lost his grip of the conversation. He had never seen Alice Deringham attired as she was then, and, for his hostess had made the bravest display possible, the profusion of flowers, glass, and glittering silver which it seemed appropriate that she should be placed amidst, in a curious fashion troubled the man. This, he knew, was a part of the environment she had been used to, and he sighed as he thought of the sordid simplicity at Somasco. There was also Commander Thorne beside her, and the naval officer was one upon whom the stamp of birth and polish was very visible. This man, he surmised, would understand the thoughts and fancies which were incomprehensible to him, and was acquainted with all the petty trifles which are of vast importance to a woman in the aggregate.

Alton's heart grew heavy as he watched them, noticing the passing smile of comprehension that came so easily and expressed so much, and heard through the hum of voices the soft English accentuation which by contrast with his own speech seemed musical. He knew his value in the busy world, but he also knew his failings, and the knowledge was bitter to him then. There were so many little things he did not know, and he saw himself, as he thought the girl must see him--uncouth, which it was impossible for him to be, crude of thought, over-vehement or taciturn in speech, a barbarian. The misgivings had troubled him before, but they were very forceful now, and at last he was glad when Mrs. Forel smiled at him.

"You have been watching Miss Deringham, and neglecting me," she said.

For a moment Alton looked almost confused, and the lady laughed as she continued. "Very pretty and stylish, isn't she? Now we have pretty girls right here in Vancouver, but I fancy they can still give us points in one respect in the old country. You think that is foolish of me? Well, I wouldn't worry to tell me so; I think Commander Thorne could do it more neatly."

"He is apparently too busy," said Alton. "Still, I fancy if you asked him he would support me."

Mrs. Forel smiled mischievously, "Well, though one could scarcely blame you, jealousy wouldn't do you any good. Those two were great friends in the old country."

"That," said Alton, "is a little indefinite."

"Of course, but I don't know anything more," said his companion.

"Lieutenant Atkinson, who knew them both, told me. Thorne wasn't rich, you see, but he comes of good people, and not long ago somebody left him all their money. Quite romantic, isn't it? Still, don't you think Miss Deringham would be thrown away upon anybody less than a baronet."

Alton did not answer, but his face grew somewhat grim as once more he glanced across at Thorne. This, he thought, was a good man, and he had all that Alton felt himself so horribly deficient in. In the meanwhile Mrs. Forel was looking at Seaforth, who was talking to the wife of an English financier.

"I like your partner, and he is from the old country, too," she said.

"Of course you know what he was over there?"

It was put artlessly, but Alton's eyes twinkled. "I'm afraid I don't, though I've no doubt Charley would have told me if I'd asked him," he said. "He is a tolerably useful man in this country, anyway, and that kind of contented me."

The lady shook her head at him reproachfully. "And I thought you were slow in the bush," said she. "Still, Thorne will know."

Alton fancied his hostess intended to be kind to him, but he was glad when the dinner was over and he gravitated with the other men towards Forel's smoking-room. There, as it happened, the talk turned upon shooting and fishing, and when one or two of the guests had narrated their adventures in the ranges, one who was bent and grizzled told in turn several grim stories of the early days when the treasure-seekers went up into the snows of Caribou. There was a brief silence when he had finished, until one of the Englishmen said:

"I presume things of that kind seldom happen now?"

"I don't know," said Seaforth, who spoke in the Western idiom. "We have still a few of the good old-fashioned villains right here in this country, and that reminds me of a thing which happened to a man I know.

He was a quiet man, and quite harmless so long as nobody worried him, but generally held on with a tight grip to his own, and he once got his hands into something another man wanted. That was how the fuss began."