CHAPTER II. A LETTER OF DESTINY
Eric, finding that his father had not yet returned from the
college, went into the library and sat down to read a letter he
had picked up from the hall table. It was from Larry West, and
after the first few lines Eric's face lost the absent look it had
worn and assumed an expression of interest.
"I am writing to ask a favour of you, Marshall," wrote West.
"The fact is, I've fallen into the hands of the Philistines--that
is to say, the doctors. I've not been feeling very fit all
winter but I've held on, hoping to finish out the year.
"Last week my landlady--who is a saint in spectacles and
calico--looked at me one morning at the breakfast table and said,
VERY gently, 'You must go to town to-morrow, Master, and see a
doctor about yourself.'
"I went and did not stand upon the order of my going. Mrs.
Williamson is She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. She has an inconvenient
habit of making you realize that she is exactly right, and that
you would be all kinds of a fool if you didn't take her advice.
You feel that what she thinks to-day you will think to-morrow.
"In Charlottetown I consulted a doctor. He punched and pounded
me, and poked things at me and listened at the other end of them;
and finally he said I must stop work 'immejutly and to onct' and
hie me straightway to a climate not afflicted with the north-east
winds of Prince Edward Island in the spring. I am not to be
allowed to do any work until the fall. Such was his dictum and
Mrs. Williamson enforces it.
"I shall teach this week out and then the spring vacation of
three weeks begins. I want you to come over and take my place as
pedagogue in the Lindsay school for the last week in May and the
month of June. The school year ends then and there will be
plenty of teachers looking for the place, but just now I cannot
get a suitable substitute. I have a couple of pupils who are
preparing to try the Queen's Academy entrance examinations, and I
don't like to leave them in the lurch or hand them over to the
tender mercies of some third-class teacher who knows little Latin
and less Greek. Come over and take the school till the end of
the term, you petted son of luxury. It will do you a world of
good to learn how rich a man feels when he is earning twenty-five
dollars a month by his own unaided efforts!
"Seriously, Marshall, I hope you can come, for I don't know any
other fellow I can ask. The work isn't hard, though you'll
likely find it monotonous. Of course, this little north-shore
farming settlement isn't a very lively place. The rising and
setting of the sun are the most exciting events of the average
day. But the people are very kind and hospitable; and Prince
Edward Island in the month of June is such a thing as you don't
often see except in happy dreams. There are some trout in the
pond and you'll always find an old salt at the harbour ready and
willing to take you out cod-fishing or lobstering.
"I'll bequeath you my boarding house. You'll find it comfortable
and not further from the school than a good constitutional. Mrs.
Williamson is the dearest soul alive; and she is one of those
old-fashioned cooks who feed you on feasts of fat things and
whose price is above rubies.
"Her husband, Robert, or Bob, as he is commonly called despite
his sixty years, is quite a character in his way. He is an
amusing old gossip, with a turn for racy comment and a finger in
everybody's pie. He knows everything about everybody in Lindsay
for three generations back.
"They have no living children, but Old Bob has a black cat which
is his especial pride and darling. The name of this animal is
Timothy and as such he must always be called and referred to.
Never, as you value Robert's good opinion, let him hear you
speaking of his pet as 'the cat,' or even as 'Tim.' You will
never be forgiven and he will not consider you a fit person to
have charge of the school.
"You shall have my room, a little place over the kitchen, with a
ceiling that follows the slant of the roof down one side, against
which you will bump your head times innumerable until you learn
to remember that it is there, and a looking glass which will make
one of your eyes as small as a pea and the other as big as an
orange.
"But to compensate for these disadvantages the supply of towels
is generous and unexceptionable; and there is a window whence you
will daily behold an occidental view over Lindsay Harbour and the
gulf beyond which is an unspeakable miracle of beauty. The sun
is setting over it as I write and I see such a sea of glass
mingled with fire as might have figured in the visions of the
Patmian seer. A vessel is sailing away into the gold and crimson
and pearl of the horizon; the big revolving light on the tip of
the headland beyond the harbour has just been lighted and is
winking and flashing like a beacon,
"'O'er the foam
Of perilous seas in faerie lands forlorn.'"
"Wire me if you can come; and if you can, report for duty on the
twenty-third of May."
Mr. Marshall, Senior, came in, just as Eric was thoughtfully
folding up his letter. The former looked more like a benevolent
old clergyman or philanthropist than the keen, shrewd, somewhat
hard, although just and honest, man of business that he really
was. He had a round, rosy face, fringed with white whiskers, a
fine head of long white hair, and a pursed-up mouth. Only in his
blue eyes was a twinkle that would have made any man who designed
getting the better of him in a bargain think twice before he made
the attempt.
It was easily seen that Eric must have inherited his personal
beauty and distinction of form from his mother, whose picture
hung on the dark wall between the windows. She had died while
still young, when Eric was a boy of ten. During her lifetime she
had been the object of the passionate devotion of both her
husband and son; and the fine, strong, sweet face of the picture
was a testimony that she had been worthy of their love and
reverence. The same face, cast in a masculine mold, was repeated
in Eric; the chestnut hair grew off his forehead in the same way;
his eyes were like hers, and in his grave moods they held a
similar expression, half brooding, half tender, in their depths.
Mr. Marshall was very proud of his son's success in college, but
he had no intention of letting him see it. He loved this boy of
his, with the dead mother's eyes, better than anything on earth,
and all his hopes and ambitions were bound up in him.
"Well, that fuss is over, thank goodness," he said testily, as he
dropped into his favourite chair.
"Didn't you find the programme interesting?" asked Eric absently.
"Most of it was tommyrot," said his father. "The only things I
liked were Charlie's Latin prayer and those pretty little girls
trotting up to get their diplomas. Latin IS the language for
praying in, I do believe,--at least, when a man has a voice like
Old Charlie's. There was such a sonorous roll to the words that
the mere sound of them made me feel like getting down on my
marrow bones. And then those girls were as pretty as pinks, now
weren't they? Agnes was the finest-looking of the lot in my
opinion. I hope it's true that you're courting her, Eric?"
"Confound it, father," said Eric, half irritably, half
laughingly, "have you and David Baker entered into a conspiracy
to hound me into matrimony whether I will or no?"
"I've never said a word to David Baker on such a subject,"
protested Mr. Marshall.
"Well, you are just as bad as he is. He hectored me all the way
home from the college on the subject. But why are you in such a
hurry to have me married, dad?"
"Because I want a homemaker in this house as soon as may be.
There has never been one since your mother died. I am tired of
housekeepers. And I want to see your children at my knees before
I die, Eric, and I'm an old man now."
"Well, your wish is natural, father," said Eric gently, with a
glance at his mother's picture. "But I can't rush out and marry
somebody off-hand, can I? And I fear it wouldn't exactly do to
advertise for a wife, even in these days of commercial
enterprise."
"Isn't there ANYBODY you're fond of?" queried Mr. Marshall, with
the patient air of a man who overlooks the frivolous jests of
youth.
"No. I never yet saw the woman who could make my heart beat any
faster."
"I don't know what you young men are made of nowadays," growled
his father. "I was in love half a dozen times before I was your
age."
"You might have been 'in love.' But you never LOVED any woman
until you met my mother. I know that, father. And it didn't
happen till you were pretty well on in life either."
"You're too hard to please. That's what's the matter, that's
what's the matter!"
"Perhaps I am. When a man has had a mother like mine his
standard of womanly sweetness is apt to be pitched pretty high.
Let's drop the subject, father. Here, I want you to read this
letter--it's from Larry."
"Humph!" grunted Mr. Marshall, when he had finished with it. "So
Larry's knocked out at last--always thought he would be--always
expected it. Sorry, too. He was a decent fellow. Well, are you
going?"
"Yes, I think so, if you don't object."
"You'll have a pretty monotonous time of it, judging from his
account of Lindsay."
"Probably. But I am not going over in search of excitement. I'm
going to oblige Larry and have a look at the Island."
"Well, it's worth looking at, some parts of the year," conceded
Mr. Marshall. "When I'm on Prince Edward Island in the summer I
always understand an old Scotch Islander I met once in Winnipeg.
He was always talking of 'the Island.' Somebody once asked him,
'What island do you mean?' He simply LOOKED at that ignorant
man. Then he said, 'Why, Prince Edward Island, mon. WHAT OTHER
ISLAND IS THERE?' Go if you'd like to. You need a rest after
the grind of examinations before settling down to business. And
mind you don't get into any mischief, young sir."
"Not much likelihood of that in a place like Lindsay, I fancy,"
laughed Eric.
"Probably the devil finds as much mischief for idle hands in
Lindsay as anywhere else. The worst tragedy I ever heard of
happened on a backwoods farm, fifteen miles from a railroad and
five from a store. However, I expect your mother's son to behave
himself in the fear of God and man. In all likelihood the worst
thing that will happen to you over there will be that some
misguided woman will put you to sleep in a spare room bed. And
if that does happen may the Lord have mercy on your soul!"
