The Lake Mystery. Marvin Dana
quickly forgot her presentiment. Mrs. West proved to be a handsome, though rather delicate, woman, of perhaps fifty years—in voice and manner, and in nature as well, a true gentlewoman of a type now somewhat out of fashion. As May had already learned from her late employer, this lady had, throughout her life, enjoyed ample means, though not great wealth. The daughter, Margaret, resembled the mother, but in her slender form was the grace of youth.
“There’s no doubt that it’s still a real wilderness hereabouts,” Margaret declared, after the first greetings had been exchanged. “I thought it might have changed, since our visit ten years ago.”
“And it’s still all wilderness for the way we have yet to go in the motor-boat,” May answered, smiling. “Here is Jake—Mr. Dustin, you know. He’ll carry your valises to the landing.” She indicated the embarrassed boatman, who was hovering doubtfully near. With attention thus thrust upon him, he grinned sheepishly, then turned to the luggage.
“Chris will help him,” Mrs. West said.
May looked in the direction of the speaker’s nod, and started in astonishment. In her absorption with the two women, she had observed neither the coming nor the presence of this man. Now, she regarded him curiously. Evidently, from his appearance, as well as from Mrs. West’s words, he was a servant, and May guessed that he must be as well an old and highly esteemed family retainer, since he thus made one of the party on this trip. He was a short man, rather absurdly fat, though not in the least heavy of movement, or wheezy of breath. But he had a general roundness, of a sort almost infantile, incongruous with perfect baldness. His tiny black eyes twinkled benignantly. A somewhat suggestive redness of the skin made the caricature effect of a Bacchic Cupid. For the rest, he was neatly dressed in black, and he smiled genially on May, and touched his hat decorously, at the reference to himself, with a respectful, “Yes, Miss.” Then, he stooped alertly to the luggage, seized a bag in either hand, and waited expectantly for the more sluggish Jake to point the way.
May had wholly forgotten her first impression long before the cottage landing was reached. She found Mrs. West kindly and interested, while Margaret displayed a democratic friendliness that was inexpressibly grateful to the lonely girl. But, at the last, all her apprehensions came crowding back. It was at the moment when they emerged from the boat-house, and started toward the cottage.
“Why, who is that?” Mrs. West asked, with a note of curiosity in her voice.
May looked up, to see Hartley Masters, as he stepped briskly out from the front door of the house. At sight of the party on the shore, he halted abruptly, in seeming confusion; then, after an instant of indecision, he swung sharply to the right, into a path that ran along the lake to the south.
“Oh, it’s Mr. Masters,” May answered, a bit falteringly. “He’s an engineer at work near here—he calls—sometimes.”
Some stress in the speaker’s voice caught the attention of Margaret. She regarded the troubled face of the secretary intently for a moment; then, she stared speculatively after the tall figure of the engineer, as it passed swiftly into the concealment of the forest.
CHAPTER IV
EVE OF BATTLE
MASTERS came suddenly on May Thurston that same afternoon, as she chanced to be alone on the cottage porch. When he appeared so swiftly out of the wood, which was thick behind the house, the girl realized that he must have been lying in wait for this opportunity to meet her unobserved. The stealthiness of the act revolted her anew, and the disagreeable impression was in no wise relieved by the engineer’s conversation or manner.
“Nothing—I found nothing at all!” he declared, curtly. His large eyes were glowing with anger. “I can’t understand it.” His tone was full of rebellion against the injustice of fate.
“But—” May began. Her voice was hesitating, timid.
Masters went on stormily, disregarding her.
“I mustn’t give up though—just because they’ve come.” He nodded toward the cottage. “You must introduce me, at once. Then, get them outside, to look about—and I’ll have another try at the gold.”
The girl was dismayed by his persistence. She wished to point out the danger of discovery, but the engineer would listen to no protests, and, in the end, his inflexible will beat down her resistance.
So, presently, Masters was duly introduced to Mrs. West and her daughter. His manner was now all suavity. He devoted himself to making a good impression, and in this he succeeded, for he was in fact usually attractive to women, though not to men, who regarded him with latent suspicion, or open hostility, according to their various natures. In this instance, his handsome face, graceful, frank manner and lively chat diverted and pleased the mother, while the more susceptible daughter found herself near to blushing under the earnest regard of a stranger so romantic of appearance and so respectfully, yet obviously, an admirer of her own charms. Indeed, though Masters was very discreet, his manner somehow caused the trouble in May’s heart to swell, for now it was leavened with jealousy. Yet, there was nothing overt, to which she might take exception. It was, rather, an intuition that warned her. But, when she again found herself alone with her lover, she was confronted with offense in his first words:
“We must keep our engagement secret from them.”
Though May had had no thought of any present publicity for her romance, this peremptory command came with a shock.
“Why?” she demanded. “What do you mean, Hartley?”
Masters became fluently plausible. His seeming candor disarmed criticism.
“Margaret West is a pretty girl,” he explained, smiling, at last, “and she is evidently aware of the fact. If she thinks I’m dangling, so to speak—a victim to her charms—she and her mother won’t wonder any at my hanging around the place a good deal—and it’s Miss West’s place now, you know. It wouldn’t do for me to make myself too much at home here just as your fiancé, she might be jealous.”
His smile over this none too delicate pleasantry was so caressing, his voice was so tender, he was so tall, so stalwart in picturesque fashion, so good to look on altogether, that May quite forgot her first instinct of indignation. After all, doubtless, he was right.
“But you won’t let her think you really serious?” she stipulated.
Masters’ face instantly grew grave; his voice took on a dignity almost rebuking.
“No, little girl,” he said, gently; “that wouldn’t be fair to you, or to her, or to me. But we’ll keep our secret for a time.”
And to this, albeit reluctantly, May consented. That reluctance must have become open revolt, could she have known the inner workings of her lover’s crafty and unscrupulous brain. For the fact of the matter was that the engineer had no sooner set eyes on Margaret West than new, daring plots began to shape themselves in his imagination. His heart thrilled at sight of her; his interest deepened second by second. He experienced, indeed, an attraction strange, dominant. The emotion was the more impressive inasmuch as it was totally unlike that with which May Thurston had inspired him. He had admired the secretary in rather a placid fashion; he had enjoyed her dainty appearance, he had been agreeably entertained by her lively intelligence; most of all, he had received flattering unction to his vanity from the ease of his triumph over her heart. The case of Margaret was radically different. Even in the first interview with this girl, he found himself subject to a spell hitherto unknown in his experience of women. Being by no means a fool, he guessed that here in truth was one actually to possess his love.
That realization worked no sort of regeneration in the moral nature of the man. On the contrary, since he was essentially selfish, it served only to spur him on toward bold speculations as to all possible gains for himself. Since he knew the terms of the Abernethey will, a new scheme flashed on him within five minutes of his introduction to Margaret. If he