The Translation of a Savage | Page 3

chief.
He was tolerably happy when he went to the Hudson's Bay country; for
Miss Julia Sherwood was his promised wife, and she, if poor, was
notably beautiful and of good family. His people had not looked quite
kindly on this engagement; they had, indeed, tried in many ways to
prevent it; partly because of Miss Sherwood's poverty, and also because
they knew that Lady Agnes Martling had long cared for him, and was
most happily endowed with wealth and good looks also. When he left
for Canada they were inwardly glad (they imagined that something
might occur to end the engagement)--all except Richard, the wiseacre
of the family, the book- man, the drone, who preferred living at
Greyhope, their Hertfordshire home, the year through, to spending half
the time in Cavendish Square. Richard was very fond of Frank,
admiring him immensely for his buxom strength and cleverness, and
not a little, too, for that very rashness which had brought him such
havoc at last.
Richard was not, as Frank used to say, "perfectly sound on his pins,"
--that is, he was slightly lame, but he was right at heart. He was an
immense reader, but made little use of what he read. He had an
abundant humour, and remembered every anecdote he ever heard. He
was kind to the poor, walked much, talked to himself as he walked, and
was known by the humble sort as "a'centric." But he had a wise head,
and he foresaw danger to Frank's happiness when he went away. While
others had gossiped and manoeuvred and were busily idle, he had
watched things. He saw that Frank was dear to Julia in proportion to the
distance between her and young Lord Haldwell, whose father had done
something remarkable in guns or torpedoes and was rewarded with a
lordship and an uncommonly large fortune. He also saw that, after
Frank left, the distance between Lord Haldwell and Julia became

distinctly less--they were both staying at Greyhope. Julia Sherwood
was a remarkably clever girl. Though he felt it his duty to speak to her
for his brother,--a difficult and delicate matter, he thought it would
come better from his mother.
But when he took action it was too late. Miss Sherwood naively
declared that she had not known her own heart, and that she did not
care for Frank any more. She wept a little, and was soothed by
motherly Mrs. Armour, who was inwardly glad, though she knew the
matter would cause Frank pain; and even General Armour could not
help showing slight satisfaction, though he was innocent of any
deliberate action to separate the two. Straightway Miss Sherwood
despatched a letter to the wilds of Canada, and for a week was an
unengaged young person. But she was no doubt consoled by the fact
that for some time past she had had complete control of Lord
Haldwell's emotions. At the end of the week her perceptions were
justified by Lord Haldwell's proposal, which, with admirable tact and
obvious demureness, was accepted.
Now, Frank Armour was wandering much in the wilds, so that his
letters and papers went careering about after him, and some that came
first were last to reach him. That was how he received a newspaper
announcing the marriage of Lord Haldwell and Julia Sherwood at the
same time that her letter, written in estimable English and with
admirable feeling, came, begging for a release from their engagement,
and, towards its close, assuming, with a charming regret, that all was
over, and that the last word had been said between them.
Armour was sitting in the trader's room at Fort Charles when the carrier
came with the mails. He had had some successful days hunting buffalo
with Eye-of-the-Moon and a little band of metis, had had a long
pow-wow in Eye-of-the-Moon's lodge, had chatted gaily with Lali the
daughter, and was now prepared to enjoy heartily the arrears of
correspondence and news before him. He ran his hand through the
letters and papers, intending to classify them immediately, according to
such handwriting as he recognised and the dates on the envelopes. But,
as he did so, he saw a newspaper from which the wrapper was partly

torn. He also saw a note in the margin directing him to a certain page.
The note was in Richard's handwriting. He opened the paper at the page
indicated and saw the account of the marriage! His teeth clinched on
his cigar, his face turned white, the paper fell from his fingers. He
gasped, his hands spread out nervously, then caught the table and held
it as though to steady himself.
The trader rose. "You are ill," he said. "Have you bad news?" He
glanced towards the paper. Slowly Armour folded the paper up, and
then rose unsteadily.