Colston and his party were leaving the hotel, with Jernyngham and Gertrude a few paces in front of them. A big lamp hung beneath the veranda, and the light from the windows streamed out on the snow. While Colston held the door open for his wife and Muriel to pass through a man came hurriedly along the sidewalk and Colston started.

“Be quick!” he cried to Muriel. “It’s Prescott!”

Letting the door swing to, he moved hastily forward, and then stopped, seeing that he was too late to prevent the meeting. Jernyngham had recognized the newcomer.

“Mr. Prescott,” the old man cried, “a word with you!”

Prescott stopped with a troubled face a few yards away.

“If you insist, I’m at your service.”

Colston drew nearer. Jernyngham’s tone had alarmed him, and it’s ominous harshness was more marked when he resumed:

“For the last time, I ask you, where is my son?”

“I wish I knew,” said Prescott quietly. “I believe he’s in British Columbia, but it’s a big province and I lost trace of him there.”

“It’s a lie!” Jernyngham cried, hoarse with fury. “Your tricks won’t serve you; I’ll have the truth!”

“Be calm, Mr. Jernyngham,” Colston begged, touching 319 his arm. “We’ll have a crowd here in a few moments. Come back into the hotel.”

He was violently pushed away. Jernyngham’s eyes glittered, his face was grimly set; it was obvious that his self-control had deserted him. Seeing that he could not be reasoned with, Colston left him alone and waited, ready to interfere if necessary. The man, he thought, was in a dangerous mood; the situation was liable to have alarming developments.

“Why don’t you speak?” Jernyngham stormed at Prescott. “You shall not leave the spot until we hear your confession!”

Prescott stood still, looking at him steadily, with pity in his face. He made a striking figure in the glare of light, finely posed, with no sign of shrinking. The others had fixed their eyes on him, and did not notice Muriel move quietly through the shadow of the wooden pillars.

“I have nothing to confess,” he said.

Jernyngham’s fur coat was open and his hand dropped quickly to a pocket. As he brought it out Colston sprang forward, a moment too late; but Muriel was before him, her hand on the man’s arm. There was a flash, a sharp report, and blue smoke curled up toward the veranda, but Prescott stood still, untouched.

“Be quick!” screamed Muriel. “He’s trying to fire again!”

There was no time to be particular. Colston seized the elder man, dragging him backward several paces before he wrenched the pistol from him. Then he paused, breathless, looking about in a half-dazed fashion. Everything had happened with startling suddenness, and the scene under the veranda was an impressive one. His wife clutched one of the pillars as if unnerved. 320 Gertrude leaned against the sidewalk rail, her face tense with horror, and Jernyngham stood with a slackness of carriage which suggested that power of thought and physical force had suddenly left him.

“Jack, are you hurt?” cried Muriel clinging to Prescott.

The tension was relieved by the appearance of the commissioned officer, who sprang out of the hotel with the constable close behind him.

“Shut the door and keep them in!” he ordered.

The constable obeyed, but his efforts were wasted, for men were already hurrying out through the separate entrance to the bar and from an adjoining store. Others ran out from the houses, and the street was rapidly filling with an eager crowd.

“Stand back there!” called the officer sharply. Then he turned to the group under the veranda. “Now what’s this? I heard a shot!”

“Yes,” said Colston, pulling himself together, though his manner was confused; “there was one. I don’t know how it happened—it was a surprise to us all. I don’t think the pistol’s safe; it goes off too easily. However, the most important thing is that nobody is hurt.”

“That’s fortunate. I’ll take the weapon from you,” replied the officer dryly.

When Colston had given it to him, as if glad to be rid of it, the officer noted the positions and attitudes of the others before he turned to Prescott.

“Can you tell me anything?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Prescott answered. “Of course, I saw the flash, but the bullet didn’t come anywhere near me.”

Then Gertrude’s nerve gave way. All that had 321 happened was her work; she had, when her father was wavering and questioning the justice of his suspicions, driven them back more firmly into his mind, and as a result of this he had come near to killing an innocent man. Overwhelmed by the thought, she swayed unsteadily and fell back against the rails.

“Miss Jernyngham is fainting!” Mrs. Colston cried, hurrying toward her.

“Bring her in!” said the officer; and when this was done, with Colston’s assistance, he called to the constable:

“Stand at the door; keep everybody out!”

The big lobby was cleared, and the officer gravely watched the way the actors of the scene arranged themselves. Prescott stood well apart from the others with Muriel at his side. She was flushed and overstrung, but her pose and expression suggested that she was defying the rest, and she cast a hard, unsympathetic glance at Gertrude, who sat limply, with clenched hands. Colston, looking embarrassed and unhappy, sat near his wife, who had preserved some composure. Jernyngham leaned against the counter, dejected and apparently half dazed.

“Before you go any farther, I’d better tell you that I fired the shot,” he said brokenly.

“When I came out, the pistol was in Mr. Colston’s hand,” the officer pointed out in a meaning tone.

“That’s true,” Colston broke in. “I took it from him, for fear of an accident. Mr. Jernyngham was in a very nervous and excited state. He has, of course, been bearing a heavy strain, and I imagine you must have said something that rather upset his balance.”

“I was perfectly sensible!” Jernyngham harshly interrupted him. “I found I could get no assistance from 322 the police; it looked as if my son’s death must go unavenged!”

Colston raised his hand to check him. Jernyngham could not be allowed to explain his action, as he seemed bent on doing.

“No! no!” he said soothingly, “you mustn’t think of it! Please let me speak.” He addressed the officer. “You can see the nervous state Mr. Jernyngham is in—very natural, of course, but I think it should appeal to your consideration.”

The officer reflected. He had been brought up in the old country, and could sympathize with the people before him; they deserved pity, and he had no wish to humiliate them. Moreover, Miss Hurst, whom he admired, seemed to be involved. These reasons could not be allowed to carry much weight, but there were others. It was obvious that Jernyngham was hardly responsible for his actions; the man’s worn and haggard face showed that he had been severely tried. Justice would not be served by probing the matter too deeply, and Colston’s attitude indicated that this would be difficult.

“As you seem to be the one who had the narrowest escape, Mr. Prescott, have you any complaint to make?” he said.

“None whatever. I’m sorry the thing has made so much stir.”

“It was my duty to investigate it. But I think that a charge of unlawfully carrying dangerous weapons, which is punishable by a fine, will meet the case.” He turned to the trooper. “You will attend to the matter in due course, Constable Slade.”

Then he bowed to the company and went out, leaving Colston to deal with the situation with the assistance of 323 his wife, who thought it desirable to break up the party as soon as possible.

“The teams must be ready, and it’s too cold to keep them standing,” she remarked.

“They’re outside,” said Colston. “We’ll be mobbed by an inquisitive crowd, if we don’t get off at once. Gertrude, bring your father.”

Gertrude led Jernyngham to the door, and Colston turned back to Prescott.

“It was very regretable,” he said. “We are grateful for your forbearance.”

Then his wife joined him, calling to Muriel.

“Be quick! The people haven’t gone away; the street’s full!”

Muriel, disregarding her, looked at Prescott, who had spoken to nobody except the officer. His face was troubled, but he made no attempt to detain her.

“I believe you saved my life,” he said. “I can’t thank you now. May I call to-morrow?”

“We should be glad to see you,” Mrs. Colston broke in hurriedly; “but, with Mr. Jernyngham at the homestead, wouldn’t it be embarrassing? Muriel, we really can’t wait.”

The girl smiled at Prescott.

“Yes,” she said quietly, “come when you wish.”

Then her sister, knowing that she was beaten, drew her firmly away.

They went out and Prescott sat down, feeling that he had done right and yet half ashamed of his reserve, for he had seen that Muriel had expected him to claim her and was ready to acknowledge him before her friends. This, however, was when she was overstrung and under the influence of strong excitement; the sacrifice she did not 324 shrink from making was a heavy one, and she must have an opportunity for considering it calmly. He was not long left undisturbed, for men flocked in, anxious for an account of the affair, but he put them off with evasive answers and, making his escape, hurried to the livery-stable where he hired a team.

The next afternoon he drove to Leslie’s in a quietly exultant mood. His long fight was over; nature had beaten him, and he was glad to yield, though he had not done so under sudden stress of passion. During his search for Jernyngham and afterward sitting by his stove on bitter nights, he had come to see that if the girl he desired loved him, no merely prudential reasons ought to separate them. He had feared to drag her down, to rob her of things she valued, but he now saw that she might, after all, hold them of little account. He was, for his station, a prosperous man; his wife need suffer no real deprivation; he had a firm belief in the future of his adopted country, and knew that in a little while all the amenities of civilized life could be enjoyed in it. Wandle’s trial would free him of suspicion; when he had stood facing Jernyngham, Muriel had revealed her love for him, and since it could not be doubted, he need not hesitate. It was her right to choose whether she would marry him. Only she must clearly realize all that this would imply.

He had expected some opposition from Mrs. Colston, but, when it was inevitable, she could gracefully bear defeat. Moreover, she had never agreed with Jernyngham’s s............