My Terminal Moraine | Page 9

This was a terrible story; but, after all, it was founded
only upon servants' gossip. In this country, even proud, rich men like
Mr. Havelot did not have such absurd ideas regarding the source of

wealth. Money is money, and whether it is derived from the ordinary
products of the earth, from which came much of Mr. Havelot's revenue,
or from an extraordinary project such as my glacier spur, it truly could
not matter so far as concerned the standing in society of its possessor.
What utter absurdity was this which Susan had told me! If I were to go
to Mr. Havelot and tell him that I would not marry his daughter because
he supplied brewers and bakers with the products of his fields, would
he not consider me an idiot? I determined to pay no attention to the idle
tale. But alas! determinations of that sort are often of little avail. I did
pay attention to it, and my spirits drooped.
The tunnel into the glacier spur had now attained considerable length,
and the ice in the interior was found to be of a much finer quality than
that first met with, which was of a grayish hue and somewhat inclined
to crumble. When the workmen reached a grade of ice as good as they
could expect, they began to enlarge the tunnel into a chamber, and from
this they proposed to extend tunnels in various directions after the
fashion of a coal-mine. The ice was hauled out on sledges through the
tunnel and then carried up a wooden railway to the mouth of the shaft.
It was comparatively easy to walk down the shaft and enter the tunnel,
and when it happened that the men were not at work I allowed visitors
to go down and view this wonderful ice-cavern. The walls of the
chamber appeared semi-transparent, and the light of the candles or
lanterns gave the whole scene a weird and beautiful aspect. It was
almost possible to imagine one's self surrounded by limpid waters,
which might at any moment rush upon him and ingulf him.
Every day or two Tom Burton came with a party of scientific visitors,
and had I chosen to stop the work of taking out ice, admitted the public
and charged a price for admission, I might have made almost as much
money as I at that time derived from the sale of the ice. But such a
method of profit was repugnant to me.
For several days after Susan's communication to me I worked on in my
various operations, endeavoring to banish from my mind the idle
nonsense she had spoken of; but one of its effects upon me was to make
me feel that I ought not to allow hopes so important to rest upon

uncertainties. So I determined that as soon as my house and grounds
should be in a condition with which I should for the time be satisfied, I
would go boldly to Mr. Havelot, and, casting out of my recollection
everything that Susan had said, invite him to visit me and see for
himself the results of the discovery of which he had spoken with such
derisive contempt. This would be a straightforward and business-like
answer to his foolish objections to me, and I believed that in his heart
the old gentleman would properly appreciate my action.
About this time there came to my place Aaron Boyce, an elderly farmer
of the neighborhood, and, finding me outside, he seized the opportunity
to have a chat with me.
"I tell you what it is, Mr. Cuthbert," said he, "the people in this
neighborhood hasn't give you credit for what's in you. The way you
have fixed up this place, and the short time you have took to do it, is
enough to show us now what sort of a man you are; and I tell you, sir,
we're proud of you for a neighbor. I don't believe there's another
gentleman in this county of your age that could have done what you
have done in so short a time. I expect now you will be thinking of
getting married and startin' housekeepin' in a regular fashion. That
comes just as natural as to set hens in the spring. By the way, have you
heard that old Mr. Havelot's thinkin' of goin' abroad? I didn't believe he
would ever do that again, because he's gettin' pretty well on in years,
but old men will do queer things as well as young ones."
"Going abroad!" I cried. "Does he intend to take his daughter with
him?"
Mr. Aaron Boyce smiled grimly. He was a great old gossip, and he had
already obtained the information he wanted. "Yes," he said, "I've heard
it was on her account he's going. She's been