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Nasmyth did not pause to think what Lisle's wishes might be, or whether he would resent his action. So far, he had kept his promise; but, with physical weariness reacting on his mental faculties, he was only conscious of a hazy idea that Gladwyne's death had released him from his pledge. The traitor had expiated his offense; the tragic story must never be raked up again.
The next moment Crestwick joined them. "What's to be done, Vernon?" he exclaimed. "Miss Gladwyne's engagement's formally announced it can't go on!" "Why?" Lisle's voice was stern. "What has it to do with you?" "Well," explained Crestwick, hesitating, "the man's not to be trusted, he's dangerous. He simply can't be allowed to make this match!" He paused and spread out his hands.
"If people never talked unless they had something useful to say, there would be a marvelous change," he declared. Lisle disregarded this, but he was a little less grave when he resumed: "There's another point to bear in mind. Two of Gladwyne's party left him; and of those two which would be the more likely to succumb to extreme exertion, exposure, and insufficient food?"
Knowing what he did, Lisle fancied that Gladwyne's indifferent tone had cost him an effort. "It's only my Christian name, as you have heard," he explained. "You were up in the bush with Nasmyth, were you not?" "Yes," answered Lisle. "I met him quite by chance in a Victoria hotel when I happened to have a few weeks at my disposal which I thought of spending in the wilds.
Nevertheless, had he known that she loved him and he could confer benefits upon her in place of demanding a sacrifice, he would have been strangely hard to deter. On his return, Nasmyth met him at the door. "Where have you been?" he asked with some indignation. "To Mrs. Gladwyne's," Lisle informed him.
I didn't know then that you were a friend of Gladwyne's." Nasmyth made a slight gesture which suggested the acknowledgment of a compliment. "I'll try to be just it's sometimes hard." His voice had a throb of pain in it as he went on: "I was the friend of George Gladwyne the one who perished. I had a strong regard for him."
The increasing chill, the gloom and the desolation of their surroundings affected them all; and nobody had been quite at ease since Gladwyne's arrival. He was too tired to make more than spasmodic attempts to talk, and though Millicent was sorry for him she could not help contrasting him with Lisle.
Lisle thought it had a bearing on the matter, as the lad would have seen less of Batley without Gladwyne's connivance. "Well," he countered, "what would you like me to do?" "It's difficult to answer. He's obstinate and resents advice. You might, however, talk to him when you have a chance; he's beginning to have a respect for your opinions." "That's gratifying," Lisle commented dryly.
We must try to be friends as long as possible." Nothing more was said about the matter, and they spent the day forcing a passage through scrub timber, up precipitous hillsides, and across long stony ridges. There was no sign of Gladwyne's trail, but that did not trouble Lisle, for he knew where the man was heading for.
"No," she answered, with appreciation, for this was very different from Gladwyne's attitude. "It would only separate Jim from you, and I don't want that to happen. Please keep hold of him, though I know that can't be pleasant for you." "He is trying now and then, but I'll do what I can. Gladwyne, however, has more influence than I have. Did you think of asking him?"
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