Four Winds Page #10

"Four Winds" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a touching collection of stories that explore themes of love, nature, and the human experience. Set against the backdrop of the Canadian landscape, Montgomery's prose beautifully captures the joys and struggles of her characters, often reflecting on the passage of time and the impact of the seasons. With her signature lyrical style, the author weaves tales that evoke emotion and contemplation, inviting readers to appreciate the nuances of life’s journey. Each story highlights the connection between individuals and the world around them, making it a poignant read for fans of Montgomery's evocative storytelling.

• Short story

								

Harmon had any relatives or even where his home was, and it was his
own ship in which he sailed. Father would be glad to think that Frank
Harmon was dead, but he does not think he is. He says he was always a
fickle-minded fellow, one fancy driving another out of his mind. Oh, I
can bear my own misery--but to think what I have brought on you! I
never dreamed that you could care for me. I was so lonely and your
friendship was so pleasant--can you ever forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive, as far as you are concerned, Lynde,"
said Alan steadily. "You have done me no wrong. I have loved you
sincerely and such love can be nothing but a blessing to me. I only
wish that I could help you. It wrings my heart to think of your
position. But I can do nothing--nothing. I must not even come here any
more. You understand that?"

"Yes."

There was an unconscious revelation in the girl's mournful eyes as she
turned them on Alan. It thrilled him to the core of his being. She
loved him. If it were not for that empty marriage form, he could win
her, but the knowledge was only an added mocking torment. Alan had not
known a man could endure such misery and live. A score of wild
questions rushed to his lips but he crushed them back for Lynde's sake
and held out his hand.

"Good-bye, dear," he said almost steadily, daring to say no more lest
he should say too much.

"Good-bye," Lynde answered faintly.

When he had gone she flung herself down on the moss by the spring and
lay there in an utter abandonment of misery and desolation.

Pain and indignation struggled for mastery in Alan's stormy soul as he
walked homeward. So this was Captain Anthony's doings! He had
sacrificed his daughter to some crime of his dubious past. Alan never
dreamed of blaming Lynde for having kept her marriage a secret; he put
the blame where it belonged--on the Captain's shoulders. Captain
Anthony had never warned him by so much as a hint that Lynde was not
free to be won. It had all probably seemed a good joke to him. Alan
thought the furtive amusement he had so often detected in the
Captain's eyes was explained now.

He found Elder Trewin in his study when he got home. The good Elder's
face was stern and anxious; he had called on a distasteful errand--to
tell the young minister of the scandal his intimacy with the Four
Winds people was making in the congregation and remonstrate with him
concerning it. Alan listened absently, with none of the resentment he
would have felt at the interference a day previously. A man does not
mind a pin-prick when a limb is being wrenched away.

"I can promise you that my objectionable calls at Four Winds will
cease," he said sarcastically, when the Elder had finished. Elder
Trewin got himself away, feeling snubbed but relieved.

"Took it purty quiet," he reflected. "Don't believe there was much in
the yarns after all. Isabel King started them and probably she
exaggerated a lot. I suppose he's had some notion like as not of
bringing the Captain over to the church. But that's foolish, for he'd
never manage it, and meanwhile was giving occasion for gossip. It's
just as well to stop it. He's a good pastor and he works hard--too
hard, mebbe. He looked real careworn and worried today."

The Rexton gossip soon ceased with the cessation of the young
minister's visits to Four Winds. A month later it suffered a brief
revival when a tall grim-faced old woman, whom a few recognized as
Captain Anthony's housekeeper, was seen to walk down the Rexton road
and enter the manse. She did not stay there long--watchers from a
dozen different windows were agreed upon that--and nobody, not even
Mrs. Danby, who did her best to find out, ever knew why she had
called.

Emily looked at Alan with grim reproach when she was shown into his
study, and as soon as they were alone she began with her usual
abruptness, "Mr. Douglas, why have you given up coming to Four Winds?"

Alan flinched.

"You must ask Lynde that, Miss Oliver," he said quietly.

"I have asked her--and she says nothing."

"Then I cannot tell you."

Anger glowed in Emily's eyes.

"I thought you were a gentleman," she said bitterly. "You are not. You
are breaking Lynde's heart. She's gone to a shadow of herself and
she's fretting night and day. You went there and made her like
you--oh, I've eyes--and then you left her."

Alan bent over his desk and looked the old woman in the face
unflinchingly.

"You are mistaken, Miss Oliver," he said earnestly. "I love Lynde and
would be only too happy if it were possible that I could marry her. I
am not to blame for what has come about--she will tell you that
herself if you ask her."

His look and tone convinced Emily.

"Who is to blame then? Lynde herself?"

"No, no."

"The Captain then?"

"Not in the sense you mean. I can tell you nothing more."

A baffled expression crossed the old woman's face. "There's a mystery
here--there always has been--and I'm shut out of it. Lynde won't
confide in me--in me who'd give my life's blood to help her. Perhaps I
can help her--I could tell you something. Have you stopped coming to
Four Winds--has she made you stop coming--because she's got such a
wicked old scamp for a father? Is that the reason?"

Alan shook his head.

"No, that has nothing to do with it."

"And you won't come back?"

"It is not a question of will. I cannot--must not go."

"Lynde will break her heart then," said Emily in a tone of despair.

"I think not. She is too strong and fine for that. Help her all you
can with sympathy but don't torment her with any questions. You may
tell her if you like that I advise her to confide the whole story to
you, but if she cannot don't tease her to. Be very gentle with her."

"You don't need to tell me that. I'd rather die than hurt her. I came
here full of anger against you--but I see now you are not to blame.
You are suffering too--your face tells that. All the same, I wish
you'd never set foot in Four Winds. She wasn't happy before but she
wasn't so miserable as she is now. Oh, I know Anthony is at the bottom
of it all in some way but I won't ask you any more questions since you
don't feel free to answer them. But are you sure that nothing can be
done to clear up the trouble?"

"Too sure," said Alan's white lips.

       *       *       *       *       *

The autumn dragged away. Alan found out how much a man may suffer and
yet go on living and working. As for that, his work was all that made
life possible for him now and he flung himself into it with feverish
energy, growing so thin and hollow-eyed over it that even Elder Trewin
remonstrated and suggested a vacation--a suggestion at which Alan
merely smiled. A vacation which would take him away from Lynde's
neighbourhood--the thought was not to be entertained.
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