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Updated: June 27, 2025
Early in the morning Rolf gathered the trifles he had secured for the little children and the book he had bought for Annette, a sweet story of a perfect girl who died and went to heaven, the front embellished with a thrilling wood-cut. Then he crossed the familiar five-mile portage at a pace that in an hour brought him to the lake. The greeting at Van's was that of a brother come home.
It took some time, however, to make the fastening to the shoe and moccasin secure, and in the meantime the sun went behind a cloud. "I guess Father wasn't a very good weather prophet," remarked Bob, glancing at the sky. "It seems to be clouding up." "Don't fret. What do we care?" was Van's easy answer. "We're not really after the view.
Between the two a peculiar friendship sprang up. On Van's part it arose from forlornness mingled with a half formulated belief that he must do something to express his thankfulness that he himself had escaped from the fate that had overtaken the child. On the small lad's side it had its root in gratitude and hero-worship. In Tim's eyes Van Blake was an all-powerful person.
"Could I fancy," pursued Agatha, in despairing playfulness mimicking Uncle Van's manner, "how Miss Bushell looked, and how Victor looked, and how everybody looked? Could I fancy it? Why, I was there!" "There! Where?" "Why, in that wretched little temple. I was the girl, Mrs. Blunt. I I I was the milkmaid, as Mr. Sutton says. I was the country wench! Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear!" Mrs.
To creep on foot along the granite bridge was taxing the utmost of her courage. She could not ascertain precisely where it was that the horseman was waiting below. She was guided only by the broken ledge, where pony and all had disappeared. Therefore, she called to him weakly. "Mr. Van Mr. Van where are you?" Van's heart turned over in his breast.
"You don't mean " Van's voice trembled. "Did you go to see him about me?" Bob nodded. "Bob! How did you dare?" "I dare do anything that becomes a man; who dares do more is none," quoted Bob merrily. "I don't believe, though, I'd have dared go for myself," he answered. "It is different when you are doing it for some one else. Now sit up and listen and I'll tell you all about it.
"You don't think they will, Grandpapa dear, do you? Please say they won't." "I don't think there is the least danger of it," said Mr. King, "especially as I shall put an end to this double-ripper business, though not because this upset was anybody's fault; remember that, Phronsie." Van's head which had dropped a bit at the last words, came up proudly.
"Take care," warned Jasper, pausing a minute in his own work to look over at Van's reckless fingers; "you must shake each one as you pull it down, before you throw it out on the grass, else we'll have all our work to do over again. Oh, Alexia, are you coming to help?" "Of course I am," declared Alexia. "Oh, Van, what a piece of work you are making!"
It was one of them for instance that if he was often most silent when most primed with matter, so when he had nothing to say he was always silent too a peculiarity misleading, until mastered, for a lady who could have allowed in the latter case for almost any variety of remark. "What do you think," he said at last, "of his turning up to-day?" "Of old Van's?" "Oh has HE turned up?"
She felt a new weight in the cruelty whereby the owners of the "Laughing Water" claim had been suddenly bereft of all they possessed after all their patient years of serving here in this arid waste of minerals. The older men in Van's partnership she pitied. For Van she felt a sense of championing love. His cause was her cause, come what might at least until she could no longer keep alive her hope.
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