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It was spacious, roughly paneled in cedar, with an uncovered floor. There were a few chairs scattered about and a plain pine table. Jernyngham sat by the table and the others found seats here and there, except Prescott, who stood quietly opposite the old man. At a curt sign from Jernyngham, Leslie and his wife left the room. "Mr.
Come across with me to Morant's, and I'll see what I can borrow on the land." The sudden unreasoning decision was characteristic of him, but Prescott expostulated. "You can't clear out in this eccentric fashion; there are a number of things to be settled first." "I think I can," Jernyngham retorted dryly. "It's certain that I can't stay here."
I want to make Sebastian before it's dark." "Sit still," Jernyngham told him. "I'm in an expansive mood, and I've a notion that I'm not far off a crisis in my affairs. Ellice has been fractious lately; I seem to have been getting on her nerves, which perhaps is not surprising."
I should never have fallen in love with the real Cyril Jernyngham." They found the others in the large sitting-room. Cyril was talking gaily, though Prescott concluded from one remark that he had not yet given a full account of his adventures.
The man was a worthy type of his people, the new nation that is rising in the West: forceful, steadfast, direct, and, as a rule, devoid of mental subtleties. He admitted that the Jernyngham mystery, every clue to which broke off as he began to follow it, was harassing him. While he spent the evening, lounging in well-earned leisure beside the stove, Mrs.
"Hang up your coat," said Laxton; "I'll do what I can. Anyway, you're not the fellow I made the deal with." He drew out a cigar-case when Prescott came back. "Take a smoke and go ahead. I'm willing to talk." "First of all, turn over the paper I gave you and look at the signature." "Cyril Jernyngham!" exclaimed Laxton, astonished.
Prescott showed his visitors in and afterward watched with some amusement their surprise when they sat down to the midday meal with the lightly clad toilers from the field. During the afternoon and until late in the evening, he worked hard among the grain, but when the light was failing and he leaned on a wire fence, hot and tired after the long day of effort, Jernyngham came toward him.
Am I to understand that you have no intention of seizing Prescott?" "That is what I meant. So far as I can determine at present, we shall not interfere with him." Jernyngham's haggard face grew red with anger. "What are your grounds for this extraordinary decision?" he demanded. "A strong presumption of his innocence." "Preposterous!" Jernyngham broke out.
He had said nothing about his plan to any one except Gertrude, which was unfortunate, because Leslie, who could read the signs of the weather, would have dissuaded him. Jernyngham felt uneasy as he glanced across the plain. There was something unusual in the light: every clump of scrub and bush in the foreground stood out with a curious hard distinctness, though the distance was blurred and dim.
If Jernyngham did not turn up, Prescott meant to discharge all his debts after harvest and, as the crop promised well, to send the balance to England as a proof that his friend had not been a failure in Canada. This might be some comfort to Jernyngham's people. He was considering the matter when he heard the stubble crackle behind him and, looking around, saw Curtis riding up.
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