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diff --git a/old/1312-h/1312-h.htm b/old/1312-h/1312-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff3c411 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1312-h/1312-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14427 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Selected Stories of Bret Harte + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Selected Stories, by Bret Harte + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Selected Stories + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 3, 2006 [EBook #1312] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SELECTED STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SELECTED STORIES OF BRET HARTE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> MIGGLES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> TENNESSEE'S PARTNER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE IDYL OF RED GULCH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> BROWN OF CALAVERAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> HIGH-WATER MARK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> A LONELY RIDE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE MAN OF NO ACCOUNT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> MLISS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE RIGHT EYE OF THE COMMANDER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_NOTE"> NOTES BY FLOOD AND FIELD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> AN EPISODE OF FIDDLETOWN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> BARKER'S LUCK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> A YELLOW DOG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> A MOTHER OF FIVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> BULGER'S REPUTATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> IN THE TULES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> A CONVERT OF THE MISSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> THE INDISCRETION OF ELSBETH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> THE DEVOTION OF ENRIQUEZ </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + The life of Bret Harte divides itself, without adventitious forcing, into + four quite distinct parts. First, we have the precocious boyhood, with its + eager response to the intellectual stimulation of cultured parents; young + Bret Harte assimilated Greek with amazing facility; devoured voraciously + the works of Shakespeare, Dickens, Irving, Froissart, Cervantes, Fielding; + and, with creditable success, attempted various forms of composition. + Then, compelled by economic necessity, he left school at thirteen, and for + three years worked first in a lawyer's office, and then in a merchant's + counting house. + </p> + <p> + The second period, that of his migration to California, includes all that + is permanently valuable of Harte's literary output. Arriving in California + in 1854, he was, successively, a school-teacher, drug-store clerk, express + messenger, typesetter, and itinerant journalist. He worked for a while on + the NORTHERN CALIFORNIA (from which he was dismissed for objecting + editorially to the contemporary California sport of murdering Indians), + then on the GOLDEN ERA, 1857, where he achieved his first moderate + acclaim. In this latter year he married Anne Griswold of New York. In 1864 + he was given the secretaryship of the California mint, a virtual sinecure, + and he was enabled do a great deal of writing. The first volume of his + poems, THE LOST GALLEON AND OTHER TALES, CONDENSED NOVELS (much underrated + parodies), and THE BOHEMIAN PAPERS were published in 1867. One year later, + THE OVERLAND MONTHLY, which had aspirations of becoming “the ATLANTIC + MONTHLY of the West,” was established, and Harte was appointed its first + editor. For it, he wrote most of what still remains valid as literature—THE + LUCK OF ROARING CAMP, THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT, PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM + TRUTHFUL JAMES, among others. The combination of Irvingesque romantic + glamor and Dickensian bitter-sweet humor, applied to picturesquely novel + material, with the addition of a trick ending, was fantastically popular. + Editors began to clamor for his stories; the University of California + appointed him Professor of recent literature; and the ATLANTIC MONTHLY + offered him the practically unprecedented sum of $10,000 for exclusive + rights to one year's literary output. Harte's star was, briefly, in the + ascendant. + </p> + <p> + However, Harte had accumulated a number of debts, and his editorial + policies, excellent in themselves, but undiplomatically executed, were the + cause of a series of arguments with the publisher of the OVERLAND MONTHLY. + Fairly assured of profitable pickings in the East, he left California + (permanently, as it proved). The East, however, was financially + unappreciative. Harte wrote an unsuccessful novel and collaborated with + Mark Twain on an unremunerative play. His attempts to increase his income + by lecturing were even less rewarding. From his departure from California + in 1872 to his death thirty years later, Harte's struggles to regain + financial stability were unremitting: and to these efforts is due the + relinquishment of his early ideal of “a peculiarly characteristic Western + American literature.” Henceforth Harte accepted, as Prof. Hicks remarks, + “the role of entertainer, and as an entertainer he survived for thirty + years his death as an artist.” + </p> + <p> + The final period extends from 1878, when he managed to get himself + appointed consul to Crefeld in Germany, to 1902, when he died of a throat + cancer. He left for Crefeld without his wife or son—perhaps + intending, as his letters indicate, to call them to him when circumstances + allowed; but save for a few years prior to his death, the separation, for + whatever complex of reasons, remained permanent. Harte, however, continued + to provide for them as liberally as he was able. In Crefeld Harte wrote A + LEGEND OF SAMMERSTANDT, VIEWS FROM A GERMAN SPION, and UNSER KARL. In 1880 + he transferred to the more lucrative consulship of Glasgow, and ROBIN + GRAY, a tale of Scottish life, is the product of his stay there. In 1885 + he was dismissed from his consulship, probably for political reasons, + though neglect of duty was charged against him. He removed to London where + he remained, for most part, until his death. + </p> + <p> + Bret Harte never really knew the life of the mining camp. His mining + experiences were too fragmentary, and consequently his portraits of mining + life are wholly impressionistic. “No one,” Mark Twain wrote, “can talk the + quartz dialect correctly without learning it with pick and shovel and + drill and fuse.” Yet, Twain added elsewhere, “Bret Harte got his + California and his Californians by unconscious absorption, and put both of + them into his tales alive.” That is, perhaps, the final comment. Much + could be urged against Harte's stories: the glamor they throw over the + life they depict is largely fictitious; their pathetic endings are + obviously stylized; their technique is overwhelmingly derivative. + Nevertheless, so excellent a critic as Chesterton maintained that “There + are more than nine hundred and ninety-nine excellent reasons which we + could all have for admiring the work of Bret Harte.” The figure is perhaps + exaggerated, but there are many reasons for admiration. First, Harte + originated a new and incalculably influential type of story: the + romantically picturesque “human-interest” story. “He created the local + color story,” Prof. Blankenship remarks, “or at least popularized it, and + he gave new form and intent to the short story.” Character motivating + action is central to this type of story, rather than mood dominating + incident. Again Harte's style is really an eminently skilful one, + admirably suited to his subjects. He can manage the humorous or the + pathetic excellently, and his restraint in each is more remarkable than + his excesses. His sentences have both force and flow; his backgrounds are + crisply but carefully sketched; his characters and caricatures have their + own logical consistency. Finally, granted the desirability of the theatric + finale, it is necessary to admit that Harte always rings down his curtain + dramatically and effectively. + </p> + <p> + ARTHUR ZEIGER, M.A. <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP + </h2> + <p> + There was commotion in Roaring Camp. It could not have been a fight, for + in 1850 that was not novel enough to have called together the entire + settlement. The ditches and claims were not only deserted, but “Tuttle's + grocery” had contributed its gamblers, who, it will be remembered, calmly + continued their game the day that French Pete and Kanaka Joe shot each + other to death over the bar in the front room. The whole camp was + collected before a rude cabin on the outer edge of the clearing. + Conversation was carried on in a low tone, but the name of a woman was + frequently repeated. It was a name familiar enough in the camp,—“Cherokee + Sal.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the less said of her the better. She was a coarse and, it is to be + feared, a very sinful woman. But at that time she was the only woman in + Roaring Camp, and was just then lying in sore extremity, when she most + needed the ministration of her own sex. Dissolute, abandoned, and + irreclaimable, she was yet suffering a martyrdom hard enough to bear even + when veiled by sympathizing womanhood, but now terrible in her loneliness. + The primal curse had come to her in that original isolation which must + have made the punishment of the first transgression so dreadful. It was, + perhaps, part of the expiation of her sin that, at a moment when she most + lacked her sex's intuitive tenderness and care, she met only the + half-contemptuous faces of her masculine associates. Yet a few of the + spectators were, I think, touched by her sufferings. Sandy Tipton thought + it was “rough on Sal,” and, in the contemplation of her condition, for a + moment rose superior to the fact that he had an ace and two bowers in his + sleeve. + </p> + <p> + It will be seen also that the situation was novel. Deaths were by no means + uncommon in Roaring Camp, but a birth was a new thing. People had been + dismissed the camp effectively, finally, and with no possibility of + return; but this was the first time that anybody had been introduced AB + INITIO. Hence the excitement. + </p> + <p> + “You go in there, Stumpy,” said a prominent citizen known as “Kentuck,” + addressing one of the loungers. “Go in there, and see what you kin do. + You've had experience in them things.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps there was a fitness in the selection. Stumpy, in other climes, had + been the putative head of two families; in fact, it was owing to some + legal informality in these proceedings that Roaring Camp—a city of + refuge—was indebted to his company. The crowd approved the choice, + and Stumpy was wise enough to bow to the majority. The door closed on the + extempore surgeon and midwife, and Roaring Camp sat down outside, smoked + its pipe, and awaited the issue. + </p> + <p> + The assemblage numbered about a hundred men. One or two of these were + actual fugitives from justice, some were criminal, and all were reckless. + Physically they exhibited no indication of their past lives and character. + The greatest scamp had a Raphael face, with a profusion of blonde hair; + Oakhurst, a gambler, had the melancholy air and intellectual abstraction + of a Hamlet; the coolest and most courageous man was scarcely over five + feet in height, with a soft voice and an embarrassed, timid manner. The + term “roughs” applied to them was a distinction rather than a definition. + Perhaps in the minor details of fingers, toes, ears, etc., the camp may + have been deficient, but these slight omissions did not detract from their + aggregate force. The strongest man had but three fingers on his right + hand; the best shot had but one eye. + </p> + <p> + Such was the physical aspect of the men that were dispersed around the + cabin. The camp lay in a triangular valley between two hills and a river. + The only outlet was a steep trail over the summit of a hill that faced the + cabin, now illuminated by the rising moon. The suffering woman might have + seen it from the rude bunk whereon she lay,—seen it winding like a + silver thread until it was lost in the stars above. + </p> + <p> + A fire of withered pine boughs added sociability to the gathering. By + degrees the natural levity of Roaring Camp returned. Bets were freely + offered and taken regarding the result. Three to five that “Sal would get + through with it;” even that the child would survive; side bets as to the + sex and complexion of the coming stranger. In the midst of an excited + discussion an exclamation came from those nearest the door, and the camp + stopped to listen. Above the swaying and moaning of the pines, the swift + rush of the river, and the crackling of the fire rose a sharp, querulous + cry,—a cry unlike anything heard before in the camp. The pines + stopped moaning, the river ceased to rush, and the fire to crackle. It + seemed as if Nature had stopped to listen too. + </p> + <p> + The camp rose to its feet as one man! It was proposed to explode a barrel + of gunpowder; but in consideration of the situation of the mother, better + counsels prevailed, and only a few revolvers were discharged; for whether + owing to the rude surgery of the camp, or some other reason, Cherokee Sal + was sinking fast. Within an hour she had climbed, as it were, that rugged + road that led to the stars, and so passed out of Roaring Camp, its sin and + shame, forever. I do not think that the announcement disturbed them much, + except in speculation as to the fate of the child. “Can he live now?” was + asked of Stumpy. The answer was doubtful. The only other being of Cherokee + Sal's sex and maternal condition in the settlement was an ass. There was + some conjecture as to fitness, but the experiment was tried. It was less + problematical than the ancient treatment of Romulus and Remus, and + apparently as successful. + </p> + <p> + When these details were completed, which exhausted another hour, the door + was opened, and the anxious crowd of men, who had already formed + themselves into a queue, entered in single file. Beside the low bunk or + shelf, on which the figure of the mother was starkly outlined below the + blankets, stood a pine table. On this a candle-box was placed, and within + it, swathed in staring red flannel, lay the last arrival at Roaring Camp. + Beside the candle-box was placed a hat. Its use was soon indicated. + “Gentlemen,” said Stumpy, with a singular mixture of authority and EX + OFFICIO complacency,—“gentlemen will please pass in at the front + door, round the table, and out at the back door. Them as wishes to + contribute anything toward the orphan will find a hat handy.” The first + man entered with his hat on; he uncovered, however, as he looked about + him, and so unconsciously set an example to the next. In such communities + good and bad actions are catching. As the procession filed in comments + were audible,—criticisms addressed perhaps rather to Stumpy in the + character of showman; “Is that him?” “Mighty small specimen;” “Has n't + more 'n got the color;” “Ain't bigger nor a derringer.” The contributions + were as characteristic: A silver tobacco box; a doubloon; a navy revolver, + silver mounted; a gold specimen; a very beautifully embroidered lady's + handkerchief (from Oakhurst the gambler); a diamond breastpin; a diamond + ring (suggested by the pin, with the remark from the giver that he “saw + that pin and went two diamonds better”); a slung-shot; a Bible + (contributor not detected); a golden spur; a silver teaspoon (the + initials, I regret to say, were not the giver's); a pair of surgeon's + shears; a lancet; a Bank of England note for 5 pounds; and about $200 in + loose gold and silver coin. During these proceedings Stumpy maintained a + silence as impassive as the dead on his left, a gravity as inscrutable as + that of the newly born on his right. Only one incident occurred to break + the monotony of the curious procession. As Kentuck bent over the + candle-box half curiously, the child turned, and, in a spasm of pain, + caught at his groping finger, and held it fast for a moment. Kentuck + looked foolish and embarrassed. Something like a blush tried to assert + itself in his weather-beaten cheek. “The damned little cuss!” he said, as + he extricated his finger, with perhaps more tenderness and care than he + might have been deemed capable of showing. He held that finger a little + apart from its fellows as he went out, and examined it curiously. The + examination provoked the same original remark in regard to the child. In + fact, he seemed to enjoy repeating it. “He rastled with my finger,” he + remarked to Tipton, holding up the member, “the damned little cuss!” + </p> + <p> + It was four o'clock before the camp sought repose. A light burnt in the + cabin where the watchers sat, for Stumpy did not go to bed that night. Nor + did Kentuck. He drank quite freely, and related with great gusto his + experience, invariably ending with his characteristic condemnation of the + newcomer. It seemed to relieve him of any unjust implication of sentiment, + and Kentuck had the weaknesses of the nobler sex. When everybody else had + gone to bed, he walked down to the river and whistled reflectingly. Then + he walked up the gulch past the cabin, still whistling with demonstrative + unconcern. At a large redwood-tree he paused and retraced his steps, and + again passed the cabin. Halfway down to the river's bank he again paused, + and then returned and knocked at the door. It was opened by Stumpy. “How + goes it?” said Kentuck, looking past Stumpy toward the candle-box. “All + serene!” replied Stumpy. “Anything up?” “Nothing.” There was a pause—an + embarrassing one—Stumpy still holding the door. Then Kentuck had + recourse to his finger, which he held up to Stumpy. “Rastled with it,—the + damned little cuss,” he said, and retired. + </p> + <p> + The next day Cherokee Sal had such rude sepulture as Roaring Camp + afforded. After her body had been committed to the hillside, there was a + formal meeting of the camp to discuss what should be done with her infant. + A resolution to adopt it was unanimous and enthusiastic. But an animated + discussion in regard to the manner and feasibility of providing for its + wants at once sprang up. It was remarkable that the argument partook of + none of those fierce personalities with which discussions were usually + conducted at Roaring Camp. Tipton proposed that they should send the child + to Red Dog,—a distance of forty miles,—where female attention + could be procured. But the unlucky suggestion met with fierce and + unanimous opposition. It was evident that no plan which entailed parting + from their new acquisition would for a moment be entertained. “Besides,” + said Tom Ryder, “them fellows at Red Dog would swap it, and ring in + somebody else on us.” A disbelief in the honesty of other camps prevailed + at Roaring Camp, as in other places. + </p> + <p> + The introduction of a female nurse in the camp also met with objection. It + was argued that no decent woman could be prevailed to accept Roaring Camp + as her home, and the speaker urged that “they didn't want any more of the + other kind.” This unkind allusion to the defunct mother, harsh as it may + seem, was the first spasm of propriety,—the first symptom of the + camp's regeneration. Stumpy advanced nothing. Perhaps he felt a certain + delicacy in interfering with the selection of a possible successor in + office. But when questioned, he averred stoutly that he and “Jinny”—the + mammal before alluded to—could manage to rear the child. There was + something original, independent, and heroic about the plan that pleased + the camp. Stumpy was retained. Certain articles were sent for to + Sacramento. “Mind,” said the treasurer, as he pressed a bag of gold-dust + into the expressman's hand, “the best that can be got,—lace, you + know, and filigree-work and frills,—damn the cost!” + </p> + <p> + Strange to say, the child thrived. Perhaps the invigorating climate of the + mountain camp was compensation for material deficiencies. Nature took the + foundling to her broader breast. In that rare atmosphere of the Sierra + foothills,—that air pungent with balsamic odor, that ethereal + cordial at once bracing and exhilarating,—he may have found food and + nourishment, or a subtle chemistry that transmuted ass's milk to lime and + phosphorus. Stumpy inclined to the belief that it was the latter and good + nursing. “Me and that ass,” he would say, “has been father and mother to + him! Don't you,” he would add, apostrophizing the helpless bundle before + him, “never go back on us.” + </p> + <p> + By the time he was a month old the necessity of giving him a name became + apparent. He had generally been known as “The Kid,” “Stumpy's Boy,” “The + Coyote” (an allusion to his vocal powers), and even by Kentuck's endearing + diminutive of “The damned little cuss.” But these were felt to be vague + and unsatisfactory, and were at last dismissed under another influence. + Gamblers and adventurers are generally superstitious, and Oakhurst one day + declared that the baby had brought “the luck” to Roaring Camp. It was + certain that of late they had been successful. “Luck” was the name agreed + upon, with the prefix of Tommy for greater convenience. No allusion was + made to the mother, and the father was unknown. “It's better,” said the + philosophical Oakhurst, “to take a fresh deal all round. Call him Luck, + and start him fair.” A day was accordingly set apart for the christening. + What was meant by this ceremony the reader may imagine who has already + gathered some idea of the reckless irreverence of Roaring Camp. The master + of ceremonies was one “Boston,” a noted wag, and the occasion seemed to + promise the greatest facetiousness. This ingenious satirist had spent two + days in preparing a burlesque of the Church service, with pointed local + allusions. The choir was properly trained, and Sandy Tipton was to stand + godfather. But after the procession had marched to the grove with music + and banners, and the child had been deposited before a mock altar, Stumpy + stepped before the expectant crowd. “It ain't my style to spoil fun, + boys,” said the little man, stoutly eyeing the faces around him, “but it + strikes me that this thing ain't exactly on the squar. It's playing it + pretty low down on this yer baby to ring in fun on him that he ain't goin' + to understand. And ef there's goin' to be any godfathers round, I'd like + to see who's got any better rights than me.” A silence followed Stumpy's + speech. To the credit of all humorists be it said that the first man to + acknowledge its justice was the satirist thus stopped of his fun. “But,” + said Stumpy, quickly following up his advantage, “we're here for a + christening, and we'll have it. I proclaim you Thomas Luck, according to + the laws of the United States and the State of California, so help me + God.” It was the first time that the name of the Deity had been otherwise + uttered than profanely in the camp. The form of christening was perhaps + even more ludicrous than the satirist had conceived; but strangely enough, + nobody saw it and nobody laughed. “Tommy” was christened as seriously as + he would have been under a Christian roof and cried and was comforted in + as orthodox fashion. + </p> + <p> + And so the work of regeneration began in Roaring Camp. Almost + imperceptibly a change came over the settlement. The cabin assigned to + “Tommy Luck”—or “The Luck,” as he was more frequently called—first + showed signs of improvement. It was kept scrupulously clean and + whitewashed. Then it was boarded, clothed, and papered. The rose wood + cradle, packed eighty miles by mule, had, in Stumpy's way of putting it, + “sorter killed the rest of the furniture.” So the rehabilitation of the + cabin became a necessity. The men who were in the habit of lounging in at + Stumpy's to see “how 'The Luck' got on” seemed to appreciate the change, + and in self-defense the rival establishment of “Tuttle's grocery” + bestirred itself and imported a carpet and mirrors. The reflections of the + latter on the appearance of Roaring Camp tended to produce stricter habits + of personal cleanliness. Again Stumpy imposed a kind of quarantine upon + those who aspired to the honor and privilege of holding The Luck. It was a + cruel mortification to Kentuck—who, in the carelessness of a large + nature and the habits of frontier life, had begun to regard all garments + as a second cuticle, which, like a snake's, only sloughed off through + decay—to be debarred this privilege from certain prudential reasons. + Yet such was the subtle influence of innovation that he thereafter + appeared regularly every afternoon in a clean shirt and face still shining + from his ablutions. Nor were moral and social sanitary laws neglected. + “Tommy,” who was supposed to spend his whole existence in a persistent + attempt to repose, must not be disturbed by noise. The shouting and + yelling, which had gained the camp its infelicitous title, were not + permitted within hearing distance of Stumpy's. The men conversed in + whispers or smoked with Indian gravity. Profanity was tacitly given up in + these sacred precincts, and throughout the camp a popular form of + expletive, known as “D—n the luck!” and “Curse the luck!” was + abandoned, as having a new personal bearing. Vocal music was not + interdicted, being supposed to have a soothing, tranquilizing quality; and + one song, sung by “Man-o'-War Jack,” an English sailor from her Majesty's + Australian colonies, was quite popular as a lullaby. It was a lugubrious + recital of the exploits of “the Arethusa, Seventy-four,” in a muffled + minor, ending with a prolonged dying fall at the burden of each verse, “On + b-oo-o-ard of the Arethusa.” It was a fine sight to see Jack holding The + Luck, rocking from side to side as if with the motion of a ship, and + crooning forth this naval ditty. Either through the peculiar rocking of + Jack or the length of his song,—it contained ninety stanzas, and was + continued with conscientious deliberation to the bitter end,—the + lullaby generally had the desired effect. At such times the men would lie + at full length under the trees in the soft summer twilight, smoking their + pipes and drinking in the melodious utterances. An indistinct idea that + this was pastoral happiness pervaded the camp. “This 'ere kind o' think,” + said the Cockney Simmons, meditatively reclining on his elbow, “is + 'evingly.” It reminded him of Greenwich. + </p> + <p> + On the long summer days The Luck was usually carried to the gulch from + whence the golden store of Roaring Camp was taken. There, on a blanket + spread over pine boughs, he would lie while the men were working in the + ditches below. Latterly there was a rude attempt to decorate this bower + with flowers and sweet-smelling shrubs, and generally some one would bring + him a cluster of wild honeysuckles, azaleas, or the painted blossoms of + Las Mariposas. The men had suddenly awakened to the fact that there were + beauty and significance in these trifles, which they had so long trodden + carelessly beneath their feet. A flake of glittering mica, a fragment of + variegated quartz, a bright pebble from the bed of the creek, became + beautiful to eyes thus cleared and strengthened, and were invariably pat + aside for The Luck. It was wonderful how many treasures the woods and + hillsides yielded that “would do for Tommy.” Surrounded by playthings such + as never child out of fairyland had before, it is to be hoped that Tommy + was content. He appeared to be serenely happy, albeit there was an + infantine gravity about him, a contemplative light in his round gray eyes, + that sometimes worried Stumpy. He was always tractable and quiet, and it + is recorded that once, having crept beyond his “corral,”—a hedge of + tessellated pine boughs, which surrounded his bed,—he dropped over + the bank on his head in the soft earth, and remained with his mottled legs + in the air in that position for at least five minutes with unflinching + gravity. He was extricated without a murmur. I hesitate to record the many + other instances of his sagacity, which rest, unfortunately, upon the + statements of prejudiced friends. Some of them were not without a tinge of + superstition. “I crep' up the bank just now,” said Kentuck one day, in a + breathless state of excitement “and dern my skin if he was a-talking to a + jay bird as was a-sittin' on his lap. There they was, just as free and + sociable as anything you please, a-jawin' at each other just like two + cherrybums.” Howbeit, whether creeping over the pine boughs or lying + lazily on his back blinking at the leaves above him, to him the birds + sang, the squirrels chattered, and the flowers bloomed. Nature was his + nurse and playfellow. For him she would let slip between the leaves golden + shafts of sunlight that fell just within his grasp; she would send + wandering breezes to visit him with the balm of bay and resinous gum; to + him the tall redwoods nodded familiarly and sleepily, the bumblebees + buzzed, and the rooks cawed a slumbrous accompaniment. + </p> + <p> + Such was the golden summer of Roaring Camp. They were “flush times,” and + the luck was with them. The claims had yielded enormously. The camp was + jealous of its privileges and looked suspiciously on strangers. No + encouragement was given to immigration, and, to make their seclusion more + perfect, the land on either side of the mountain wall that surrounded the + camp they duly preempted. This, and a reputation for singular proficiency + with the revolver, kept the reserve of Roaring Camp inviolate. The + expressman—their only connecting link with the surrounding world—sometimes + told wonderful stories of the camp. He would say, “They've a street up + there in 'Roaring' that would lay over any street in Red Dog. They've got + vines and flowers round their houses, and they wash themselves twice a + day. But they're mighty rough on strangers, and they worship an Ingin + baby.” + </p> + <p> + With the prosperity of the camp came a desire for further improvement. It + was proposed to build a hotel in the following spring, and to invite one + or two decent families to reside there for the sake of The Luck, who might + perhaps profit by female companionship. The sacrifice that this concession + to the sex cost these men, who were fiercely skeptical in regard to its + general virtue and usefulness, can only be accounted for by their + affection for Tommy. A few still held out. But the resolve could not be + carried into effect for three months, and the minority meekly yielded in + the hope that something might turn up to prevent it. And it did. + </p> + <p> + The winter of 1851 will long be remembered in the foothills. The snow lay + deep on the Sierras, and every mountain creek became a river, and every + river a lake. Each gorge and gulch was transformed into a tumultuous + watercourse that descended the hillsides, tearing down giant trees and + scattering its drift and debris along the plain. Red Dog had been twice + under water, and Roaring Camp had been forewarned. “Water put the gold + into them gulches,” said Stumpy. “It been here once and will be here + again!” And that night the North Fork suddenly leaped over its banks and + swept up the triangular valley of Roaring Camp. + </p> + <p> + In the confusion of rushing water, crashing trees, and crackling timber, + and the darkness which seemed to flow with the water and blot out the fair + valley, but little could be done to collect the scattered camp. When the + morning broke, the cabin of Stumpy, nearest the river-bank, was gone. + Higher up the gulch they found the body of its unlucky owner; but the + pride, the hope, the joy, The Luck, of Roaring Camp had disappeared. They + were returning with sad hearts when a shout from the bank recalled them. + </p> + <p> + It was a relief-boat from down the river. They had picked up, they said, a + man and an infant, nearly exhausted, about two miles below. Did anybody + know them, and did they belong here? + </p> + <p> + It needed but a glance to show them Kentuck lying there, cruelly crushed + and bruised, but still holding The Luck of Roaring Camp in his arms. As + they bent over the strangely assorted pair, they saw that the child was + cold and pulseless. “He is dead,” said one. Kentuck opened his eyes. + “Dead?” he repeated feebly. “Yes, my man, and you are dying too.” A smile + lit the eyes of the expiring Kentuck. “Dying!” he repeated; “he's a-taking + me with him. Tell the boys I've got The Luck with me now;” and the strong + man, clinging to the frail babe as a drowning man is said to cling to a + straw, drifted away into the shadowy river that flows forever to the + unknown sea. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT + </h2> + <p> + As Mr. John Oakhurst, gambler, stepped into the main street of Poker Flat + on the morning of the twenty-third of November, 1850, he was conscious of + a change in its moral atmosphere since the preceding night. Two or three + men, conversing earnestly together, ceased as he approached, and exchanged + significant glances. There was a Sabbath lull in the air which, in a + settlement unused to Sabbath influences, looked ominous. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Oakhurst's calm, handsome face betrayed small concern in these + indications. Whether he was conscious of any predisposing cause was + another question. “I reckon they're after somebody,” he reflected; “likely + it's me.” He returned to his pocket the handkerchief with which he had + been whipping away the red dust of Poker Flat from his neat boots, and + quietly discharged his mind of any further conjecture. + </p> + <p> + In point of fact, Poker Flat was “after somebody.” It had lately suffered + the loss of several thousand dollars, two valuable horses, and a prominent + citizen. It was experiencing a spasm of virtuous reaction, quite as + lawless and ungovernable as any of the acts that had provoked it. A secret + committee had determined to rid the town of all improper persons. This was + done permanently in regard of two men who were then hanging from the + boughs of a sycamore in the gulch, and temporarily in the banishment of + certain other objectionable characters. I regret to say that some of these + were ladies. It is but due to the sex, however, to state that their + impropriety was professional, and it was only in such easily established + standards of evil that Poker Flat ventured to sit in judgment. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Oakhurst was right in supposing that he was included in this category. + A few of the committee had urged hanging him as a possible example, and a + sure method of reimbursing themselves from his pockets of the sums he had + won from them. “It's agin justice,” said Jim Wheeler, “to let this yer + young man from Roaring Camp—an entire stranger—carry away our + money.” But a crude sentiment of equity residing in the breasts of those + who had been fortunate enough to win from Mr. Oakhurst overruled this + narrower local prejudice. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Oakhurst received his sentence with philosophic calmness, none the + less coolly that he was aware of the hesitation of his judges. He was too + much of a gambler not to accept Fate. With him life was at best an + uncertain game, and he recognized the usual percentage in favor of the + dealer. + </p> + <p> + A body of armed men accompanied the deported wickedness of Poker Flat to + the outskirts of the settlement. Besides Mr. Oakhurst, who was known to be + a coolly desperate man, and for whose intimidation the armed escort was + intended, the expatriated party consisted of a young woman familiarly + known as the “Duchess”; another, who had won the title of “Mother + Shipton”; and “Uncle Billy,” a suspected sluice-robber and confirmed + drunkard. The cavalcade provoked no comments from the spectators, nor was + any word uttered by the escort. Only, when the gulch which marked the + uttermost limit of Poker Flat was reached, the leader spoke briefly and to + the point. The exiles were forbidden to return at the peril of their + lives. + </p> + <p> + As the escort disappeared, their pent-up feelings found vent in a few + hysterical tears from the Duchess, some bad language from Mother Shipton, + and a Parthian volley of expletives from Uncle Billy. The philosophic + Oakhurst alone remained silent. He listened calmly to Mother Shipton's + desire to cut somebody's heart out, to the repeated statements of the + Duchess that she would die in the road, and to the alarming oaths that + seemed to be bumped out of Uncle Billy as he rode forward. With the easy + good humor characteristic of his class, he insisted upon exchanging his + own riding horse, “Five Spot,” for the sorry mule which the Duchess rode. + But even this act did not draw the party into any closer sympathy. The + young woman readjusted her somewhat draggled plumes with a feeble, faded + coquetry; Mother Shipton eyed the possessor of “Five Spot” with + malevolence, and Uncle Billy included the whole party in one sweeping + anathema. + </p> + <p> + The road to Sandy Bar—a camp that, not having as yet experienced the + regenerating influences of Poker Flat, consequently seemed to offer some + invitation to the emigrants—lay over a steep mountain range. It was + distant a day's severe travel. In that advanced season, the party soon + passed out of the moist, temperate regions of the foothills into the dry, + cold, bracing air of the Sierras. The trail was narrow and difficult. At + noon the Duchess, rolling out of her saddle upon the ground, declared her + intention of going no farther, and the party halted. + </p> + <p> + The spot was singularly wild and impressive. A wooded amphitheater, + surrounded on three sides by precipitous cliffs of naked granite, sloped + gently toward the crest of another precipice that overlooked the valley. + It was, undoubtedly, the most suitable spot for a camp, had camping been + advisable. But Mr. Oakhurst knew that scarcely half the journey to Sandy + Bar was accomplished, and the party were not equipped or provisioned for + delay. This fact he pointed out to his companions curtly, with a + philosophic commentary on the folly of “throwing up their hand before the + game was played out.” But they were furnished with liquor, which in this + emergency stood them in place of food, fuel, rest, and prescience. In + spite of his remonstrances, it was not long before they were more or less + under its influence. Uncle Billy passed rapidly from a bellicose state + into one of stupor, the Duchess became maudlin, and Mother Shipton snored. + Mr. Oakhurst alone remained erect, leaning against a rock, calmly + surveying them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Oakhurst did not drink. It interfered with a profession which required + coolness, impassiveness, and presence of mind, and, in his own language, + he “couldn't afford it.” As he gazed at his recumbent fellow exiles, the + loneliness begotten of his pariah trade, his habits of life, his very + vices, for the first time seriously oppressed him. He bestirred himself in + dusting his black clothes, washing his hands and face, and other acts + characteristic of his studiously neat habits, and for a moment forgot his + annoyance. The thought of deserting his weaker and more pitiable + companions never perhaps occurred to him. Yet he could not help feeling + the want of that excitement which, singularly enough, was most conducive + to that calm equanimity for which he was notorious. He looked at the + gloomy walls that rose a thousand feet sheer above the circling pines + around him; at the sky, ominously clouded; at the valley below, already + deepening into shadow. And, doing so, suddenly he heard his own name + called. + </p> + <p> + A horseman slowly ascended the trail. In the fresh, open face of the + newcomer Mr. Oakhurst recognized Tom Simson, otherwise known as the + “Innocent” of Sandy Bar. He had met him some months before over a “little + game,” and had, with perfect equanimity, won the entire fortune—amounting + to some forty dollars—of that guileless youth. After the game was + finished, Mr. Oakhurst drew the youthful speculator behind the door and + thus addressed him: “Tommy, you're a good little man, but you can't gamble + worth a cent. Don't try it over again.” He then handed him his money back, + pushed him gently from the room, and so made a devoted slave of Tom + Simson. + </p> + <p> + There was a remembrance of this in his boyish and enthusiastic greeting of + Mr. Oakhurst. He had started, he said, to go to Poker Flat to seek his + fortune. “Alone?” No, not exactly alone; in fact (a giggle), he had run + away with Piney Woods. Didn't Mr. Oakhurst remember Piney? She that used + to wait on the table at the Temperance House? They had been engaged a long + time, but old Jake Woods had objected, and so they had run away, and were + going to Poker Flat to be married, and here they were. And they were tired + out, and how lucky it was they had found a place to camp and company. All + this the Innocent delivered rapidly, while Piney, a stout, comely damsel + of fifteen, emerged from behind the pine tree, where she had been blushing + unseen, and rode to the side of her lover. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Oakhurst seldom troubled himself with sentiment, still less with + propriety; but he had a vague idea that the situation was not fortunate. + He retained, however, his presence of mind sufficiently to kick Uncle + Billy, who was about to say something, and Uncle Billy was sober enough to + recognize in Mr. Oakhurst's kick a superior power that would not bear + trifling. He then endeavored to dissuade Tom Simson from delaying further, + but in vain. He even pointed out the fact that there was no provision, nor + means of making a camp. But, unluckily, the Innocent met this objection by + assuring the party that he was provided with an extra mule loaded with + provisions and by the discovery of a rude attempt at a log house near the + trail. “Piney can stay with Mrs. Oakhurst,” said the Innocent, pointing to + the Duchess, “and I can shift for myself.” + </p> + <p> + Nothing but Mr. Oakhurst's admonishing foot saved Uncle Billy from + bursting into a roar of laughter. As it was, he felt compelled to retire + up the canyon until he could recover his gravity. There he confided the + joke to the tall pine trees, with many slaps of his leg, contortions of + his face, and the usual profanity. But when he returned to the party, he + found them seated by a fire—for the air had grown strangely chill + and the sky overcast—in apparently amicable conversation. Piney was + actually talking in an impulsive, girlish fashion to the Duchess, who was + listening with an interest and animation she had not shown for many days. + The Innocent was holding forth, apparently with equal effect, to Mr. + Oakhurst and Mother Shipton, who was actually relaxing into amiability. + “Is this yer a damned picnic?” said Uncle Billy with inward scorn as he + surveyed the sylvan group, the glancing firelight, and the tethered + animals in the foreground. Suddenly an idea mingled with the alcoholic + fumes that disturbed his brain. It was apparently of a jocular nature, for + he felt impelled to slap his leg again and cram his fist into his mouth. + </p> + <p> + As the shadows crept slowly up the mountain, a slight breeze rocked the + tops of the pine trees, and moaned through their long and gloomy aisles. + The ruined cabin, patched and covered with pine boughs, was set apart for + the ladies. As the lovers parted, they unaffectedly exchanged a kiss, so + honest and sincere that it might have been heard above the swaying pines. + The frail Duchess and the malevolent Mother Shipton were probably too + stunned to remark upon this last evidence of simplicity, and so turned + without a word to the hut. The fire was replenished, the men lay down + before the door, and in a few minutes were asleep. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Oakhurst was a light sleeper. Toward morning he awoke benumbed and + cold. As he stirred the dying fire, the wind, which was now blowing + strongly, brought to his cheek that which caused the blood to leave it—snow! + </p> + <p> + He started to his feet with the intention of awakening the sleepers, for + there was no time to lose. But turning to where Uncle Billy had been + lying, he found him gone. A suspicion leaped to his brain and a curse to + his lips. He ran to the spot where the mules had been tethered; they were + no longer there. The tracks were already rapidly disappearing in the snow. + </p> + <p> + The momentary excitement brought Mr. Oakhurst back to the fire with his + usual calm. He did not waken the sleepers. The Innocent slumbered + peacefully, with a smile on his good-humored, freckled face; the virgin + Piney slept beside her frailer sisters as sweetly as though attended by + celestial guardians; and Mr. Oakhurst, drawing his blanket over his + shoulders, stroked his mustaches and waited for the dawn. It came slowly + in a whirling mist of snowflakes that dazzled and confused the eye. What + could be seen of the landscape appeared magically changed. He looked over + the valley, and summed up the present and future in two words—“snowed + in!” + </p> + <p> + A careful inventory of the provisions, which, fortunately for the party, + had been stored within the hut and so escaped the felonious fingers of + Uncle Billy, disclosed the fact that with care and prudence they might + last ten days longer. “That is,” said Mr. Oakhurst, sotto voce to the + Innocent, “if you're willing to board us. If you ain't—and perhaps + you'd better not—you can wait till Uncle Billy gets back with + provisions.” For some occult reason, Mr. Oakhurst could not bring himself + to disclose Uncle Billy's rascality, and so offered the hypothesis that he + had wandered from the camp and had accidentally stampeded the animals. He + dropped a warning to the Duchess and Mother Shipton, who of course knew + the facts of their associate's defection. “They'll find out the truth + about us all when they find out anything,” he added, significantly, “and + there's no good frightening them now.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Simson not only put all his worldly store at the disposal of Mr. + Oakhurst, but seemed to enjoy the prospect of their enforced seclusion. + “We'll have a good camp for a week, and then the snow'll melt, and we'll + all go back together.” The cheerful gaiety of the young man, and Mr. + Oakhurst's calm, infected the others. The Innocent with the aid of pine + boughs extemporized a thatch for the roofless cabin, and the Duchess + directed Piney in the rearrangement of the interior with a taste and tact + that opened the blue eyes of that provincial maiden to their fullest + extent. “I reckon now you're used to fine things at Poker Flat,” said + Piney. The Duchess turned away sharply to conceal something that reddened + her cheeks through its professional tint, and Mother Shipton requested + Piney not to “chatter.” But when Mr. Oakhurst returned from a weary search + for the trail, he heard the sound of happy laughter echoed from the rocks. + He stopped in some alarm, and his thoughts first naturally reverted to the + whisky, which he had prudently cached. “And yet it don't somehow sound + like whisky,” said the gambler. It was not until he caught sight of the + blazing fire through the still-blinding storm and the group around it that + he settled to the conviction that it was “square fun.” + </p> + <p> + Whether Mr. Oakhurst had cached his cards with the whisky as something + debarred the free access of the community, I cannot say. It was certain + that, in Mother Shipton's words, he “didn't say cards once” during that + evening. Haply the time was beguiled by an accordion, produced somewhat + ostentatiously by Tom Simson from his pack. Notwithstanding some + difficulties attending the manipulation of this instrument, Piney Woods + managed to pluck several reluctant melodies from its keys, to an + accompaniment by the Innocent on a pair of bone castanets. But the + crowning festivity of the evening was reached in a rude camp-meeting hymn, + which the lovers, joining hands, sang with great earnestness and + vociferation. I fear that a certain defiant tone and Covenanter's swing to + its chorus, rather than any devotional quality, caused it speedily to + infect the others, who at last joined in the refrain: + </p> + <p> + “I'm proud to live in the service of the Lord, + </p> + <p> + And I'm bound to die in His army.” + </p> + <p> + The pines rocked, the storm eddied and whirled above the miserable group, + and the flames of their altar leaped heavenward as if in token of the vow. + </p> + <p> + At midnight the storm abated, the rolling clouds parted, and the stars + glittered keenly above the sleeping camp. Mr. Oakhurst, whose professional + habits had enabled him to live on the smallest possible amount of sleep, + in dividing the watch with Tom Simson somehow managed to take upon himself + the greater part of that duty. He excused himself to the Innocent by + saying that he had “often been a week without sleep.” “Doing what?” asked + Tom. “Poker!” replied Oakhurst, sententiously; “when a man gets a streak + of luck,—nigger luck—he don't get tired. The luck gives in + first. Luck,” continued the gambler, reflectively, “is a mighty queer + thing. All you know about it for certain is that it's bound to change. And + it's finding out when it's going to change that makes you. We've had a + streak of bad luck since we left Poker Flat—you come along, and slap + you get into it, too. If you can hold your cards right along you're all + right. For,” added the gambler, with cheerful irrelevance, + </p> + <p> + “'I'm proud to live in the service of the Lord, + </p> + <p> + And I'm bound to die in His army.'” + </p> + <p> + The third day came, and the sun, looking through the white-curtained + valley, saw the outcasts divide their slowly decreasing store of + provisions for the morning meal. It was one of the peculiarities of that + mountain climate that its rays diffused a kindly warmth over the wintry + landscape, as if in regretful commiseration of the past. But it revealed + drift on drift of snow piled high around the hut—a hopeless, + uncharted, trackless sea of white lying below the rocky shores to which + the castaways still clung. Through the marvelously clear air the smoke of + the pastoral village of Poker Flat rose miles away. Mother Shipton saw it, + and from a remote pinnacle of her rocky fastness hurled in that direction + a final malediction. It was her last vituperative attempt, and perhaps for + that reason was invested with a certain degree of sublimity. It did her + good, she privately informed the Duchess. “Just you go out there and cuss, + and see.” She then set herself to the task of amusing “the child,” as she + and the Duchess were pleased to call Piney. Piney was no chicken, but it + was a soothing and original theory of the pair thus to account for the + fact that she didn't swear and wasn't improper. + </p> + <p> + When night crept up again through the gorges, the reedy notes of the + accordion rose and fell in fitful spasms and long-drawn gasps by the + flickering campfire. But music failed to fill entirely the aching void + left by insufficient food, and a new diversion was proposed by Piney—storytelling. + Neither Mr. Oakhurst nor his female companions caring to relate their + personal experiences, this plan would have failed too but for the + Innocent. Some months before he had chanced upon a stray copy of Mr. + Pope's ingenious translation of the ILIAD. He now proposed to narrate the + principal incidents of that poem—having thoroughly mastered the + argument and fairly forgotten the words—in the current vernacular of + Sandy Bar. And so for the rest of that night the Homeric demigods again + walked the earth. Trojan bully and wily Greek wrestled in the winds, and + the great pines in the canyon seemed to bow to the wrath of the son of + Peleus. Mr. Oakhurst listened with quiet satisfaction. Most especially was + he interested in the fate of “Ash-heels,” as the Innocent persisted in + denominating the “swift-footed Achilles.” + </p> + <p> + So with small food and much of Homer and the accordion, a week passed over + the heads of the outcasts. The sun again forsook them, and again from + leaden skies the snowflakes were sifted over the land. Day by day closer + around them drew the snowy circle, until at last they looked from their + prison over drifted walls of dazzling white that towered twenty feet above + their heads. It became more and more difficult to replenish their fires, + even from the fallen trees beside them, now half-hidden in the drifts. And + yet no one complained. The lovers turned from the dreary prospect and + looked into each other's eyes, and were happy. Mr. Oakhurst settled + himself coolly to the losing game before him. The Duchess, more cheerful + than she had been, assumed the care of Piney. Only Mother Shipton—once + the strongest of the party—seemed to sicken and fade. At midnight on + the tenth day she called Oakhurst to her side. “I'm going,” she said, in a + voice of querulous weakness, “but don't say anything about it. Don't waken + the kids. Take the bundle from under my head and open it.” Mr. Oakhurst + did so. It contained Mother Shipton's rations for the last week, + untouched. “Give 'em to the child,” she said, pointing to the sleeping + Piney. “You've starved yourself,” said the gambler. “That's what they call + it,” said the woman, querulously, as she lay down again and, turning her + face to the wall, passed quietly away. + </p> + <p> + The accordion and the bones were put aside that day, and Homer was + forgotten. When the body of Mother Shipton had been committed to the snow, + Mr. Oakhurst took the Innocent aside, and showed him a pair of snowshoes, + which he had fashioned from the old pack saddle. “There's one chance in a + hundred to save her yet,” he said, pointing to Piney; “but it's there,” he + added, pointing toward Poker Flat. “If you can reach there in two days + she's safe.” “And you?” asked Tom Simson. “I'll stay here,” was the curt + reply. + </p> + <p> + The lovers parted with a long embrace. “You are not going, too?” said the + Duchess as she saw Mr. Oakhurst apparently waiting to accompany him. “As + far as the canyon,” he replied. He turned suddenly, and kissed the + Duchess, leaving her pallid face aflame and her trembling limbs rigid with + amazement. + </p> + <p> + Night came, but not Mr. Oakhurst. It brought the storm again and the + whirling snow. Then the Duchess, feeding the fire, found that someone had + quietly piled beside the hut enough fuel to last a few days longer. The + tears rose to her eyes, but she hid them from Piney. + </p> + <p> + The women slept but little. In the morning, looking into each other's + faces, they read their fate. Neither spoke; but Piney, accepting the + position of the stronger, drew near and placed her arm around the + Duchess's waist. They kept this attitude for the rest of the day. That + night the storm reached its greatest fury, and, rending asunder the + protecting pines, invaded the very hut. + </p> + <p> + Toward morning they found themselves unable to feed the fire, which + gradually died away. As the embers slowly blackened, the Duchess crept + closer to Piney, and broke the silence of many hours: “Piney, can you + pray?” “No, dear,” said Piney, simply. The Duchess, without knowing + exactly why, felt relieved, and, putting her head upon Piney's shoulder, + spoke no more. And so reclining, the younger and purer pillowing the head + of her soiled sister upon her virgin breast, they fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + The wind lulled as if it feared to waken them. Feathery drifts of snow, + shaken from the long pine boughs, flew like white-winged birds, and + settled about them as they slept. The moon through the rifted clouds + looked down upon what had been the camp. But all human stain, all trace of + earthly travail, was hidden beneath the spotless mantle mercifully flung + from above. + </p> + <p> + They slept all that day and the next, nor did they waken when voices and + footsteps broke the silence of the camp. And when pitying fingers brushed + the snow from their wan faces, you could scarcely have told from the equal + peace that dwelt upon them which was she that had sinned. Even the law of + Poker Flat recognized this, and turned away, leaving them still locked in + each other's arms. + </p> + <p> + But at the head of the gulch, on one of the largest pine trees, they found + the deuce of clubs pinned to the bark with a bowie knife. It bore the + following, written in pencil, in a firm hand: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + BENEATH THIS TREE + LIES THE BODY + OF + JOHN OAKHURST, + WHO STRUCK A STREAK OF BAD LUCK + ON THE 23D OF NOVEMBER, 1850, + AND + HANDED IN HIS CHECKS + ON THE 7TH DECEMBER, 1850. +</pre> + <p> + And pulseless and cold, with a Derringer by his side and a bullet in his + heart, though still calm as in life, beneath the snow lay he who was at + once the strongest and yet the weakest of the outcasts of Poker Flat. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MIGGLES + </h2> + <p> + We were eight, including the driver. We had not spoken during the passage + of the last six miles, since the jolting of the heavy vehicle over the + roughening road had spoiled the Judge's last poetical quotation. The tall + man beside the Judge was asleep, his arm passed through the swaying strap + and his head resting upon it—altogether a limp, helpless-looking + object, as if he had hanged himself and been cut down too late. The French + lady on the back seat was asleep, too, yet in a half-conscious propriety + of attitude, shown even in the disposition of the handkerchief which she + held to her forehead and which partially veiled her face. The lady from + Virginia City, traveling with her husband, had long since lost all + individuality in a wild confusion of ribbons, veils, furs, and shawls. + There was no sound but the rattling of wheels and the dash of rain upon + the roof. Suddenly the stage stopped and we became dimly aware of voices. + The driver was evidently in the midst of an exciting colloquy with someone + in the road—a colloquy of which such fragments as “bridge gone,” + “twenty feet of water,” “can't pass,” were occasionally distinguishable + above the storm. Then came a lull, and a mysterious voice from the road + shouted the parting adjuration: + </p> + <p> + “Try Miggles's.” + </p> + <p> + We caught a glimpse of our leaders as the vehicle slowly turned, of a + horseman vanishing through the rain, and we were evidently on our way to + Miggles's. + </p> + <p> + Who and where was Miggles? The Judge, our authority, did not remember the + name, and he knew the country thoroughly. The Washoe traveler thought + Miggles must keep a hotel. We only knew that we were stopped by high water + in front and rear, and that Miggles was our rock of refuge. A ten minutes + splashing through a tangled by-road, scarcely wide enough for the stage, + and we drew up before a barred and boarded gate in a wide stone wall or + fence about eight feet high. Evidently Miggles's, and evidently Miggles + did not keep a hotel. + </p> + <p> + The driver got down and tried the gate. It was securely locked. “Miggles! + O Miggles!” + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + “Migg-ells! You Miggles!” continued the driver, with rising wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Migglesy!” joined the expressman, persuasively. “O Miggy! Mig!” + </p> + <p> + But no reply came from the apparently insensate Miggles. The Judge, who + had finally got the window down, put his head out and propounded a series + of questions, which if answered categorically would have undoubtedly + elucidated the whole mystery, but which the driver evaded by replying that + “if we didn't want to sit in the coach all night, we had better rise up + and sing out for Miggles.” + </p> + <p> + So we rose up and called on Miggles in chorus; then separately. And when + we had finished, a Hibernian fellow-passenger from the roof called for + “Maygells!” whereat we all laughed. While we were laughing, the driver + cried “Shoo!” + </p> + <p> + We listened. To our infinite amazement the chorus of “Miggles” was + repeated from the other side of the wall, even to the final and + supplemental “Maygells.” + </p> + <p> + “Extraordinary echo,” said the Judge. + </p> + <p> + “Extraordinary damned skunk!” roared the driver, contemptuously. “Come out + of that, Miggles, and show yourself! Be a man, Miggles! Don't hide in the + dark; I wouldn't if I were you, Miggles,” continued Yuba Bill, now dancing + about in an excess of fury. + </p> + <p> + “Miggles!” continued the voice. “O Miggles!” + </p> + <p> + “My good man! Mr. Myghail!” said the Judge, softening the asperities of + the name as much as possible. “Consider the inhospitality of refusing + shelter from the inclemency of the weather to helpless females. Really, my + dear sir—” But a succession of “Miggles,” ending in a burst of + laughter, drowned his voice. + </p> + <p> + Yuba Bill hesitated no longer. Taking a heavy stone from the road, he + battered down the gate, and with the expressman entered the enclosure. We + followed. Nobody was to be seen. In the gathering darkness all that we + could distinguish was that we were in a garden—from the rosebushes + that scattered over us a minute spray from their dripping leaves—and + before a long, rambling wooden building. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know this Miggles?” asked the Judge of Yuba Bill. + </p> + <p> + “No, nor, don't want to,” said Bill, shortly, who felt the Pioneer Stage + Company insulted in his person by the contumacious Miggles. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sir,” expostulated the Judge as he thought of the barred + gate. + </p> + <p> + “Lookee here,” said Yuba Bill, with fine irony, “hadn't you better go back + and sit in the coach till yer introduced? I'm going in,” and he pushed + open the door of the building. + </p> + <p> + A long room lighted only by the embers of a fire that was dying on the + large hearth at its farther extremity; the walls curiously papered, and + the flickering firelight bringing out its grotesque pattern; somebody + sitting in a large armchair by the fireplace. All this we saw as we + crowded together into the room, after the driver and expressman. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, be you Miggles?” said Yuba Bill to the solitary occupant. + </p> + <p> + The figure neither spoke nor stirred. Yuba Bill walked wrathfully toward + it, and turned the eye of his coach lantern upon its face. It was a man's + face, prematurely old and wrinkled, with very large eyes, in which there + was that expression of perfectly gratuitous solemnity which I had + sometimes seen in an owl's. The large eyes wandered from Bill's face to + the lantern, and finally fixed their gaze on that luminous object, without + further recognition. + </p> + <p> + Bill restrained himself with an effort. + </p> + <p> + “Miggles! Be you deaf? You ain't dumb anyhow, you know”; and Yuba Bill + shook the insensate figure by the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + To our great dismay, as Bill removed his hand, the venerable stranger + apparently collapsed—sinking into half his size and an + undistinguishable heap of clothing. + </p> + <p> + “Well, dern my skin,” said Bill, looking appealingly at us, and hopelessly + retiring from the contest. + </p> + <p> + The Judge now stepped forward, and we lifted the mysterious invertebrate + back into his original position. Bill was dismissed with the lantern to + reconnoiter outside, for it was evident that from the helplessness of this + solitary man there must be attendants near at hand, and we all drew around + the fire. The Judge, who had regained his authority, and had never lost + his conversational amiability—standing before us with his back to + the hearth—charged us, as an imaginary jury, as follows: + </p> + <p> + “It is evident that either our distinguished friend here has reached that + condition described by Shakespeare as 'the sere and yellow leaf,' or has + suffered some premature abatement of his mental and physical faculties. + Whether he is really the Miggles—” + </p> + <p> + Here he was interrupted by “Miggles! O Miggles! Migglesy! Mig!” and, in + fact, the whole chorus of Miggles in very much the same key as it had once + before been delivered unto us. + </p> + <p> + We gazed at each other for a moment in some alarm. The Judge, in + particular, vacated his position quickly, as the voice seemed to come + directly over his shoulder. The cause, however, was soon discovered in a + large magpie who was perched upon a shelf over the fireplace, and who + immediately relapsed into a sepulchral silence which contrasted singularly + with his previous volubility. It was, undoubtedly, his voice which we had + heard in the road, and our friend in the chair was not responsible for the + discourtesy. Yuba Bill, who re-entered the room after an unsuccessful + search, was loath to accept the explanation, and still eyed the helpless + sitter with suspicion. He had found a shed in which he had put up his + horses, but he came back dripping and skeptical. “Thar ain't nobody but + him within ten mile of the shanty, and that 'ar damned old skeesicks knows + it.” + </p> + <p> + But the faith of the majority proved to be securely based. Bill had + scarcely ceased growling before we heard a quick step upon the porch, the + trailing of a wet skirt, the door was flung open, and with flash of white + teeth, a sparkle of dark eyes, and an utter absence of ceremony or + diffidence, a young woman entered, shut the door, and, panting, leaned + back against it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you please, I'm Miggles!” + </p> + <p> + And this was Miggles! this bright-eyed, full-throated young woman, whose + wet gown of coarse blue stuff could not hide the beauty of the feminine + curves to which it clung; from the chestnut crown of whose head, topped by + a man's oilskin sou'wester, to the little feet and ankles, hidden + somewhere in the recesses of her boy's brogans, all was grace—this + was Miggles, laughing at us, too, in the most airy, frank, offhand manner + imaginable. + </p> + <p> + “You see, boys,” said she, quite out of breath, and holding one little + hand against her side, quite unheeding the speechless discomfiture of our + party, or the complete demoralization of Yuba Bill, whose features had + relaxed into an expression of gratuitous and imbecile cheerfulness—“you + see, boys, I was mor'n two miles away when you passed down the road. I + thought you might pull up here, and so I ran the whole way, knowing nobody + was home but Jim,—and—and—I'm out of breath—and—that + lets me out.” + </p> + <p> + And here Miggles caught her dripping oilskin hat from her head, with a + mischievous swirl that scattered a shower of raindrops over us; attempted + to put back her hair; dropped two hairpins in the attempt; laughed and sat + down beside Yuba Bill, with her hands crossed lightly on her lap. + </p> + <p> + The Judge recovered himself first, and essayed an extravagant compliment. + </p> + <p> + “I'll trouble you for that thar harpin,” said Miggles, gravely. Half a + dozen hands were eagerly stretched forward; the missing hairpin was + restored to its fair owner; and Miggles, crossing the room, looked keenly + in the face of the invalid. The solemn eyes looked back at hers with an + expression we had never seen before. Life and intelligence seemed to + struggle back into the rugged face. Miggles laughed again—it was a + singularly eloquent laugh—and turned her black eyes and white teeth + once more toward us. + </p> + <p> + “This afflicted person is—” hesitated the Judge. + </p> + <p> + “Jim,” said Miggles. + </p> + <p> + “Your father?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Brother?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Husband?” + </p> + <p> + Miggles darted a quick, half-defiant glance at the two lady passengers who + I had noticed did not participate in the general masculine admiration of + Miggles, and said gravely, “No; it's Jim.” + </p> + <p> + There was an awkward pause. The lady passengers moved closer to each + other; the Washoe husband looked abstractedly at the fire; and the tall + man apparently turned his eyes inward for self-support at this emergency. + But Miggles's laugh, which was very infectious, broke the silence. “Come,” + she said briskly, “you must be hungry. Who'll bear a hand to help me get + tea?” + </p> + <p> + She had no lack of volunteers. In a few moments Yuba Bill was engaged like + Caliban in bearing logs for this Miranda; the expressman was grinding + coffee on the veranda; to myself the arduous duty of slicing bacon was + assigned; and the Judge lent each man his good-humored and voluble + counsel. And when Miggles, assisted by the Judge and our Hibernian “deck + passenger,” set the table with all the available crockery, we had become + quite joyous, in spite of the rain that beat against windows, the wind + that whirled down the chimney, the two ladies who whispered together in + the corner, or the magpie who uttered a satirical and croaking commentary + on their conversation from his perch above. In the now bright, blazing + fire we could see that the walls were papered with illustrated journals, + arranged with feminine taste and discrimination. The furniture was + extemporized, and adapted from candle boxes and packing-cases, and covered + with gay calico, or the skin of some animal. The armchair of the helpless + Jim was an ingenious variation of a flour barrel. There was neatness, and + even a taste for the picturesque, to be seen in the few details of the + long low room. + </p> + <p> + The meal was a culinary success. But more, it was a social triumph—chiefly, + I think, owing to the rare tact of Miggles in guiding the conversation, + asking all the questions herself, yet bearing throughout a frankness that + rejected the idea of any concealment on her own part, so that we talked of + ourselves, of our prospects, of the journey, of the weather, of each other—of + everything but our host and hostess. It must be confessed that Miggles's + conversation was never elegant, rarely grammatical, and that at times she + employed expletives the use of which had generally been yielded to our + sex. But they were delivered with such a lighting-up of teeth and eyes, + and were usually followed by a laugh—a laugh peculiar to Miggles—so + frank and honest that it seemed to clear the moral atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + Once during the meal we heard a noise like the rubbing of a heavy body + against the outer walls of the house. This was shortly followed by a + scratching and sniffling at the door. “That's Joaquin,” said Miggles, in + reply to our questioning glances; “would you like to see him?” Before we + could answer she had opened the door, and disclosed a half-grown grizzly, + who instantly raised himself on his haunches, with his forepaws hanging + down in the popular attitude of mendicancy, and looked admiringly at + Miggles, with a very singular resemblance in his manner to Yuba Bill. + “That's my watch dog,” said Miggles, in explanation. “Oh, he don't bite,” + she added, as the two lady passengers fluttered into a corner. “Does he, + old Toppy?” (the latter remark being addressed directly to the sagacious + Joaquin). “I tell you what, boys,” continued Miggles after she had fed and + closed the door on URSA MINOR, “you were in big luck that Joaquin wasn't + hanging round when you dropped in tonight.” “Where was he?” asked the + Judge. “With me,” said Miggles. “Lord love you; he trots round with me + nights like as if he was a man.” + </p> + <p> + We were silent for a few moments, and listened to the wind. Perhaps we all + had the same picture before us—of Miggles walking through the rainy + woods, with her savage guardian at her side. The Judge, I remember, said + something about Una and her lion; but Miggles received it as she did other + compliments, with quiet gravity. Whether she was altogether unconscious of + the admiration she excited—she could hardly have been oblivious of + Yuba Bill's adoration—I know not; but her very frankness suggested a + perfect sexual equality that was cruelly humiliating to the younger + members of our party. + </p> + <p> + The incident of the bear did not add anything in Miggles's favor to the + opinions of those of her own sex who were present. In fact, the repast + over, a chillness radiated from the two lady passengers that no pine + boughs brought in by Yuba Bill and cast as a sacrifice upon the hearth + could wholly overcome. Miggles felt it; and, suddenly declaring that it + was time to “turn in,” offered to show the ladies to their bed in an + adjoining room. “You boys will have to camp out here by the fire as well + as you can,” she added, “for thar ain't but the one room.” + </p> + <p> + Our sex—by which, my dear sir, I allude of course to the stronger + portion of humanity—has been generally relieved from the imputation + of curiosity, or a fondness for gossip. Yet I am constrained to say that + hardly had the door closed on Miggles than we crowded together, + whispering, snickering, smiling, and exchanging suspicions, surmises, and + a thousand speculations in regard to our pretty hostess and her singular + companion. I fear that we even hustled that imbecile paralytic, who sat + like a voiceless Memnon in our midst, gazing with the serene indifference + of the Past in his passionate eyes upon our wordy counsels. In the midst + of an exciting discussion the door opened again, and Miggles re-entered. + </p> + <p> + But not, apparently, the same Miggles who a few hours before had flashed + upon us. Her eyes were downcast, and as she hesitated for a moment on the + threshold, with a blanket on her arm, she seemed to have left behind her + the frank fearlessness which had charmed us a moment before. Coming into + the room, she drew a low stool beside the paralytic's chair, sat down, + drew the blanket over her shoulders, and saying, “If it's all the same to + you, boys, as we're rather crowded, I'll stop here tonight,” took the + invalid's withered hand in her own, and turned her eyes upon the dying + fire. An instinctive feeling that this was only premonitory to more + confidential relations, and perhaps some shame at our previous curiosity, + kept us silent. The rain still beat upon the roof, wandering gusts of wind + stirred the embers into momentary brightness, until, in a lull of the + elements, Miggles suddenly lifted up her head, and, throwing her hair over + her shoulder, turned her face upon the group and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is there any of you that knows me?” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. + </p> + <p> + “Think again! I lived at Marysville in '53. Everybody knew me there, and + everybody had the right to know me. I kept the Polka saloon until I came + to live with Jim. That's six years ago. Perhaps I've changed some.” + </p> + <p> + The absence of recognition may have disconcerted her. She turned her head + to the fire again, and it was some seconds before she again spoke, and + then more rapidly: + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see I thought some of you must have known me. There's no great + harm done, anyway. What I was going to say was this: Jim here”—she + took his hand in both of hers as she spoke—“used to know me, if you + didn't, and spent a heap of money upon me. I reckon he spent all he had. + And one day—it's six years ago this winter—Jim came into my + back room, sat down on my sofy, like as you see him in that chair, and + never moved again without help. He was struck all of a heap, and never + seemed to know what ailed him. The doctors came and said as how it was + caused all along of his way of life—for Jim was mighty free and + wild-like—and that he would never get better, and couldn't last long + anyway. They advised me to send him to Frisco to the hospital, for he was + no good to anyone and would be a baby all his life. Perhaps it was + something in Jim's eye, perhaps it was that I never had a baby, but I said + 'No.' I was rich then, for I was popular with everybody—gentlemen + like yourself, sir, came to see me—and I sold out my business and + bought this yer place, because it was sort of out of the way of travel, + you see, and I brought my baby here.” + </p> + <p> + With a woman's intuitive tact and poetry, she had, as she spoke, slowly + shifted her position so as to bring the mute figure of the ruined man + between her and her audience, hiding in the shadow behind it, as if she + offered it as a tacit apology for her actions. Silent and expressionless, + it yet spoke for her; helpless, crushed, and smitten with the Divine + thunderbolt, it still stretched an invisible arm around her. + </p> + <p> + Hidden in the darkness, but still holding his hand, she went on: + </p> + <p> + “It was a long time before I could get the hang of things about yer, for I + was used to company and excitement. I couldn't get any woman to help me, + and a man I dursen't trust; but what with the Indians hereabout, who'd do + odd jobs for me, and having everything sent from the North Fork, Jim and I + managed to worry through. The Doctor would run up from Sacramento once in + a while. He'd ask to see 'Miggles's baby,' as he called Jim, and when he'd + go away, he'd say, 'Miggles; you're a trump—God bless you'; and it + didn't seem so lonely after that. But the last time he was here he said, + as he opened the door to go, 'Do you know, Miggles, your baby will grow up + to be a man yet and an honor to his mother; but not here, Miggles, not + here!' And I thought he went away sad—and—and—” and here + Miggles's voice and head were somehow both lost completely in the shadow. + </p> + <p> + “The folks about here are very kind,” said Miggles, after a pause, coming + a little into the light again. “The men from the fork used to hang around + here, until they found they wasn't wanted, and the women are kind—and + don't call. I was pretty lonely until I picked up Joaquin in the woods + yonder one day, when he wasn't so high, and taught him to beg for his + dinner; and then thar's Polly—that's the magpie—she knows no + end of tricks, and makes it quite sociable of evenings with her talk, and + so I don't feel like as I was the only living being about the ranch. And + Jim here,” said Miggles, with her old laugh again, and coming out quite + into the firelight, “Jim—why, boys, you would admire to see how much + he knows for a man like him. Sometimes I bring him flowers, and he looks + at 'em just as natural as if he knew 'em; and times, when we're sitting + alone, I read him those things on the wall. Why, Lord!” said Miggles, with + her frank laugh, “I've read him that whole side of the house this winter. + There never was such a man for reading as Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” asked the Judge, “do you not marry this man to whom you have + devoted your youthful life?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see,” said Miggles, “it would be playing it rather low down on + Jim, to take advantage of his being so helpless. And then, too, if we were + man and wife, now, we'd both know that I was bound to do what I do now of + my own accord.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are young yet and attractive—” + </p> + <p> + “It's getting late,” said Miggles, gravely, “and you'd better all turn in. + Good night, boys”; and, throwing the blanket over her head, Miggles laid + herself down beside Jim's chair, her head pillowed on the low stool that + held his feet, and spoke no more. The fire slowly faded from the hearth; + we each sought our blankets in silence; and presently there was no sound + in the long room but the pattering of the rain upon the roof and the heavy + breathing of the sleepers. + </p> + <p> + It was nearly morning when I awoke from a troubled dream. The storm had + passed, the stars were shining, and through the shutterless window the + full moon, lifting itself over the solemn pines without, looked into the + room. It touched the lonely figure in the chair with an infinite + compassion, and seemed to baptize with a shining flood the lowly head of + the woman whose hair, as in the sweet old story, bathed the feet of him + she loved. It even lent a kindly poetry to the rugged outline of Yuba + Bill, half-reclining on his elbow between them and his passengers, with + savagely patient eyes keeping watch and ward. And then I fell asleep and + only woke at broad day, with Yuba Bill standing over me, and “All aboard” + ringing in my ears. + </p> + <p> + Coffee was waiting for us on the table, but Miggles was gone. We wandered + about the house and lingered long after the horses were harnessed, but she + did not return. It was evident that she wished to avoid a formal + leave-taking, and had so left us to depart as we had come. After we had + helped the ladies into the coach, we returned to the house and solemnly + shook hands with the paralytic Jim, as solemnly settling him back into + position after each handshake. Then we looked for the last time around the + long low room, at the stool where Miggles had sat, and slowly took our + seats in the waiting coach. The whip cracked, and we were off! + </p> + <p> + But as we reached the highroad, Bill's dexterous hand laid the six horses + back on their haunches, and the stage stopped with a jerk. For there, on a + little eminence beside the road, stood Miggles, her hair flying, her eyes + sparkling, her white handkerchief waving, and her white teeth flashing a + last “good-by.” We waved our hats in return. And then Yuba Bill, as if + fearful of further fascination, madly lashed his horses forward, and we + sank back in our seats. We exchanged not a word until we reached the North + Fork, and the stage drew up at the Independence House. Then, the Judge + leading, we walked into the barroom and took our places gravely at the + bar. + </p> + <p> + “Are your glasses charged, gentlemen?” said the Judge, solemnly taking off + his white hat. + </p> + <p> + They were. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, here's to MIGGLES. GOD BLESS HER!” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps He had. Who knows? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TENNESSEE'S PARTNER + </h2> + <p> + I do not think that we ever knew his real name. Our ignorance of it + certainly never gave us any social inconvenience, for at Sandy Bar in 1854 + most men were christened anew. Sometimes these appellatives were derived + from some distinctiveness of dress, as in the case of “Dungaree Jack”; or + from some peculiarity of habit, as shown in “Saleratus Bill,” so called + from an undue proportion of that chemical in his daily bread; or for some + unlucky slip, as exhibited in “The Iron Pirate,” a mild, inoffensive man, + who earned that baleful title by his unfortunate mispronunciation of the + term “iron pyrites.” Perhaps this may have been the beginning of a rude + heraldry; but I am constrained to think that it was because a man's real + name in that day rested solely upon his own unsupported statement. “Call + yourself Clifford, do you?” said Boston, addressing a timid newcomer with + infinite scorn; “hell is full of such Cliffords!” He then introduced the + unfortunate man, whose name happened to be really Clifford, as “Jay-bird + Charley”—an unhallowed inspiration of the moment that clung to him + ever after. + </p> + <p> + But to return to Tennessee's Partner, whom we never knew by any other than + this relative title; that he had ever existed as a separate and distinct + individuality we only learned later. It seems that in 1853 he left Poker + Flat to go to San Francisco, ostensibly to procure a wife. He never got + any farther than Stockton. At that place he was attracted by a young + person who waited upon the table at the hotel where he took his meals. One + morning he said something to her which caused her to smile not unkindly, + to somewhat coquettishly break a plate of toast over his upturned, + serious, simple face, and to retreat to the kitchen. He followed her, and + emerged a few moments later, covered with more toast and victory. That day + week they were married by a justice of the peace, and returned to Poker + Flat. I am aware that something more might be made of this episode, but I + prefer to tell it as it was current at Sandy Bar—in the gulches and + barrooms—where all sentiment was modified by a strong sense of + humor. + </p> + <p> + Of their married felicity but little is known, perhaps for the reason that + Tennessee, then living with his Partner, one day took occasion to say + something to the bride on his own account, at which, it is said, she + smiled not unkindly and chastely retreated—this time as far as + Marysville, where Tennessee followed her, and where they went to + housekeeping without the aid of a justice of the peace. Tennessee's + Partner took the loss of his wife simply and seriously, as was his + fashion. But to everybody's surprise, when Tennessee one day returned from + Marysville, without his Partner's wife—she having smiled and + retreated with somebody else—Tennessee's Partner was the first man + to shake his hand and greet him with affection. The boys who had gathered + in the canyon to see the shooting were naturally indignant. Their + indignation might have found vent in sarcasm but for a certain look in + Tennessee's Partner's eye that indicated a lack of humorous appreciation. + In fact, he was a grave man, with a steady application to practical detail + which was unpleasant in a difficulty. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile a popular feeling against Tennessee had grown up on the Bar. He + was known to be a gambler; he was suspected to be a thief. In these + suspicions Tennessee's Partner was equally compromised; his continued + intimacy with Tennessee after the affair above quoted could only be + accounted for on the hypothesis of a copartnership of crime. At last + Tennessee's guilt became flagrant. One day he overtook a stranger on his + way to Red Dog. The stranger afterward related that Tennessee beguiled the + time with interesting anecdote and reminiscence, but illogically concluded + the interview in the following words: “And now, young man, I'll trouble + you for your knife, your pistols, and your money. You see your weppings + might get you into trouble at Red Dog, and your money's a temptation to + the evilly disposed. I think you said your address was San Francisco. I + shall endeavor to call.” It may be stated here that Tennessee had a fine + flow of humor, which no business preoccupation could wholly subdue. + </p> + <p> + This exploit was his last. Red Dog and Sandy Bar made common cause against + the highwayman. Tennessee was hunted in very much the same fashion as his + prototype, the grizzly. As the toils closed around him, he made a + desperate dash through the Bar, emptying his revolver at the crowd before + the Arcade Saloon, and so on up Grizzly Canyon; but at its farther + extremity he was stopped by a small man on a gray horse. The men looked at + each other a moment in silence. Both were fearless, both self-possessed + and independent; and both types of a civilization that in the seventeenth + century would have been called heroic, but, in the nineteenth, simply + “reckless.” “What have you got there?—I call,” said Tennessee, + quietly. “Two bowers and an ace,” said the stranger, as quietly, showing + two revolvers and a bowie knife. “That takes me,” returned Tennessee; and + with this gamblers' epigram, he threw away his useless pistol, and rode + back with his captor. + </p> + <p> + It was a warm night. The cool breeze which usually sprang up with the + going down of the sun behind the chaparral-crested mountain was that + evening withheld from Sandy Bar. The little canyon was stifling with + heated resinous odors, and the decaying driftwood on the Bar sent forth + faint, sickening exhalations. The feverishness of day, and its fierce + passions, still filled the camp. Lights moved restlessly along the bank of + the river, striking no answering reflection from its tawny current. + Against the blackness of the pines the windows of the old loft above the + express office stood out staringly bright; and through their curtainless + panes the loungers below could see the forms of those who were even then + deciding the fate of Tennessee. And above all this, etched on the dark + firmament, rose the Sierra, remote and passionless, crowned with remoter + passionless stars. + </p> + <p> + The trial of Tennessee was conducted as fairly as was consistent with a + judge and jury who felt themselves to some extent obliged to justify, in + their verdict, the previous irregularities of arrest and indictment. The + law of Sandy Bar was implacable, but not vengeful. The excitement and + personal feeling of the chase were over; with Tennessee safe in their + hands they were ready to listen patiently to any defense, which they were + already satisfied was insufficient. There being no doubt in their own + minds, they were willing to give the prisoner the benefit of any that + might exist. Secure in the hypothesis that he ought to be hanged, on + general principles, they indulged him with more latitude of defense than + his reckless hardihood seemed to ask. The Judge appeared to be more + anxious than the prisoner, who, otherwise unconcerned, evidently took a + grim pleasure in the responsibility he had created. “I don't take any hand + in this yer game,” had been his invariable but good-humored reply to all + questions. The Judge—who was also his captor—for a moment + vaguely regretted that he had not shot him “on sight” that morning, but + presently dismissed this human weakness as unworthy of the judicial mind. + Nevertheless, when there was a tap at the door, and it was said that + Tennessee's Partner was there on behalf of the prisoner, he was admitted + at once without question. Perhaps the younger members of the jury, to whom + the proceedings were becoming irksomely thoughtful, hailed him as a + relief. + </p> + <p> + For he was not, certainly, an imposing figure. Short and stout, with a + square face sunburned into a preternatural redness, clad in a loose duck + “jumper” and trousers streaked and splashed with red soil, his aspect + under any circumstances would have been quaint, and was now even + ridiculous. As he stooped to deposit at his feet a heavy carpetbag he was + carrying, it became obvious, from partially developed legends and + inscriptions, that the material with which his trousers had been patched + had been originally intended for a less ambitious covering. Yet he + advanced with great gravity, and after having shaken the hand of each + person in the room with labored cordiality, he wiped his serious, + perplexed face on a red bandanna handkerchief, a shade lighter than his + complexion, laid his powerful hand upon the table to steady himself, and + thus addressed the Judge: + </p> + <p> + “I was passin' by,” he began, by way of apology, “and I thought I'd just + step in and see how things was gittin' on with Tennessee thar—my + pardner. It's a hot night. I disremember any sich weather before on the + Bar.” + </p> + <p> + He paused a moment, but nobody volunteering any other meteorological + recollection, he again had recourse to his pocket handkerchief, and for + some moments mopped his face diligently. + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything to say in behalf of the prisoner?” said the Judge, + finally. + </p> + <p> + “Thet's it,” said Tennessee's Partner, in a tone of relief. “I come yar as + Tennessee's pardner—knowing him nigh on four year, off and on, wet + and dry, in luck and out o' luck. His ways ain't allers my ways, but thar + ain't any p'ints in that young man, thar ain't any liveliness as he's been + up to, as I don't know. And you sez to me, sez you—confidential-like, + and between man and man—sez you, 'Do you know anything in his + behalf?' and I sez to you, sez I—confidential-like, as between man + and man—'What should a man know of his pardner?'” + </p> + <p> + “Is this all you have to say?” asked the Judge impatiently, feeling, + perhaps, that a dangerous sympathy of humor was beginning to humanize the + Court. + </p> + <p> + “Thet's so,” continued Tennessee's Partner. “It ain't for me to say + anything agin' him. And now, what's the case? Here's Tennessee wants + money, wants it bad, and doesn't like to ask it of his old pardner. Well, + what does Tennessee do? He lays for a stranger, and he fetches that + stranger. And you lays for HIM, and you fetches HIM; and the honors is + easy. And I put it to you, bein' a far-minded man, and to you, gentlemen, + all, as far-minded men, ef this isn't so.” + </p> + <p> + “Prisoner,” said the Judge, interrupting, “have you any questions to ask + this man?” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” continued Tennessee's Partner, hastily. “I play this yer hand + alone. To come down to the bedrock, it's just this: Tennessee, thar, has + played it pretty rough and expensive-like on a stranger, and on this yer + camp. And now, what's the fair thing? Some would say more; some would say + less. Here's seventeen hundred dollars in coarse gold and a watch—it's + about all my pile—and call it square!” And before a hand could be + raised to prevent him, he had emptied the contents of the carpetbag upon + the table. + </p> + <p> + For a moment his life was in jeopardy. One or two men sprang to their + feet, several hands groped for hidden weapons, and a suggestion to “throw + him from the window” was only overridden by a gesture from the Judge. + Tennessee laughed. And apparently oblivious of the excitement, Tennessee's + Partner improved the opportunity to mop his face again with his + handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + When order was restored, and the man was made to understand, by the use of + forcible figures and rhetoric, that Tennessee's offense could not be + condoned by money, his face took a more serious and sanguinary hue, and + those who were nearest to him noticed that his rough hand trembled + slightly on the table. He hesitated a moment as he slowly returned the + gold to the carpetbag, as if he had not yet entirely caught the elevated + sense of justice which swayed the tribunal, and was perplexed with the + belief that he had not offered enough. Then he turned to the Judge, and + saying, “This yer is a lone hand, played alone, and without my pardner,” + he bowed to the jury and was about to withdraw when the Judge called him + back. “If you have anything to say to Tennessee, you had better say it + now.” For the first time that evening the eyes of the prisoner and his + strange advocate met. Tennessee smiled, showed his white teeth, and, + saying, “Euchred, old man!” held out his hand. Tennessee's Partner took it + in his own, and saying, “I just dropped in as I was passin' to see how + things was gettin' on,” let the hand passively fall, and adding that it + was a warm night, again mopped his face with his handkerchief, and without + another word withdrew. + </p> + <p> + The two men never again met each other alive. For the unparalleled insult + of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch—who, whether bigoted, weak, or + narrow, was at least incorruptible—firmly fixed in the mind of that + mythical personage any wavering determination of Tennessee's fate; and at + the break of day he was marched, closely guarded, to meet it at the top of + Marley's Hill. + </p> + <p> + How he met it, how cool he was, how he refused to say anything, how + perfect were the arrangements of the committee, were all duly reported, + with the addition of a warning moral and example to all future evildoers, + in the RED DOG CLARION, by its editor, who was present, and to whose + vigorous English I cheerfully refer the reader. But the beauty of that + midsummer morning, the blessed amity of earth and air and sky, the + awakened life of the free woods and hills, the joyous renewal and promise + of Nature, and above all, the infinite Serenity that thrilled through + each, was not reported, as not being a part of the social lesson. And yet, + when the weak and foolish deed was done, and a life, with its + possibilities and responsibilities, had passed out of the misshapen thing + that dangled between earth and sky, the birds sang, the flowers bloomed, + the sun shone, as cheerily as before; and possibly the RED DOG CLARION was + right. + </p> + <p> + Tennessee's Partner was not in the group that surrounded the ominous tree. + But as they turned to disperse attention was drawn to the singular + appearance of a motionless donkey cart halted at the side of the road. As + they approached, they at once recognized the venerable “Jenny” and the + two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee's Partner—used by him + in carrying dirt from his claim; and a few paces distant the owner of the + equipage himself, sitting under a buckeye tree, wiping the perspiration + from his glowing face. In answer to an inquiry, he said he had come for + the body of the “diseased,” “if it was all the same to the committee.” He + didn't wish to “hurry anything”; he could “wait.” He was not working that + day; and when the gentlemen were done with the “diseased,” he would take + him. “Ef thar is any present,” he added, in his simple, serious way, “as + would care to jine in the fun'l, they kin come.” Perhaps it was from a + sense of humor, which I have already intimated was a feature of Sandy Bar—perhaps + it was from something even better than that; but two-thirds of the + loungers accepted the invitation at once. + </p> + <p> + It was noon when the body of Tennessee was delivered into the hands of his + Partner. As the cart drew up to the fatal tree, we noticed that it + contained a rough, oblong box—apparently made from a section of + sluicing and half-filled with bark and the tassels of pine. The cart was + further decorated with slips of willow, and made fragrant with buckeye + blossoms. When the body was deposited in the box, Tennessee's Partner drew + over it a piece of tarred canvas, and gravely mounting the narrow seat in + front, with his feet upon the shafts, urged the little donkey forward. The + equipage moved slowly on, at that decorous pace which was habitual with + “Jenny” even under less solemn circumstances. The men—half + curiously, half jestingly, but all good-humoredly—strolled along + beside the cart; some in advance, some a little in the rear of the homely + catafalque. But, whether from the narrowing of the road or some present + sense of decorum, as the cart passed on, the company fell to the rear in + couples, keeping step, and otherwise assuming the external show of a + formal procession. Jack Folinsbee, who had at the outset played a funeral + march in dumb show upon an imaginary trombone, desisted, from a lack of + sympathy and appreciation—not having, perhaps, your true humorist's + capacity to be content with the enjoyment of his own fun. + </p> + <p> + The way led through Grizzly Canyon—by this time clothed in funereal + drapery and shadows. The redwoods, burying their moccasined feet in the + red soil, stood in Indian file along the track, trailing an uncouth + benediction from their bending boughs upon the passing bier. A hare, + surprised into helpless inactivity, sat upright and pulsating in the ferns + by the roadside as the cortege went by. Squirrels hastened to gain a + secure outlook from higher boughs; and the bluejays, spreading their + wings, fluttered before them like outriders, until the outskirts of Sandy + Bar were reached, and the solitary cabin of Tennessee's Partner. + </p> + <p> + Viewed under more favorable circumstances, it would not have been a + cheerful place. The unpicturesque site, the rude and unlovely outlines, + the unsavory details, which distinguish the nest-building of the + California miner, were all here, with the dreariness of decay superadded. + A few paces from the cabin there was a rough enclosure, which in the brief + days of Tennessee's Partner's matrimonial felicity had been used as a + garden, but was now overgrown with fern. As we approached it we were + surprised to find that what we had taken for a recent attempt at + cultivation was the broken soil about an open grave. + </p> + <p> + The cart was halted before the enclosure; and rejecting the offers of + assistance with the same air of simple self-reliance he had displayed + throughout, Tennessee's Partner lifted the rough coffin on his back and + deposited it, unaided, within the shallow grave. He then nailed down the + board which served as a lid; and mounting the little mound of earth beside + it, took off his hat, and slowly mopped his face with his handkerchief. + This the crowd felt was a preliminary to speech; and they disposed + themselves variously on stumps and boulders, and sat expectant. + </p> + <p> + “When a man,” began Tennessee's Partner, slowly, “has been running free + all day, what's the natural thing for him to do? Why, to come home. And if + he ain't in a condition to go home, what can his best friend do? Why, + bring him home! And here's Tennessee has been running free, and we brings + him home from his wandering.” He paused, and picked up a fragment of + quartz, rubbed it thoughtfully on his sleeve, and went on: “It ain't the + first time that I've packed him on my back, as you see'd me now. It ain't + the first time that I brought him to this yer cabin when he couldn't help + himself; it ain't the first time that I and 'Jinny' have waited for him on + yon hill, and picked him up and so fetched him home, when he couldn't + speak, and didn't know me. And now that it's the last time, why”—he + paused and rubbed the quartz gently on his sleeve—“you see it's sort + of rough on his pardner. And now, gentlemen,” he added, abruptly, picking + up his long-handled shovel, “the fun'l's over; and my thanks, and + Tennessee's thanks, to you for your trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Resisting any proffers of assistance, he began to fill in the grave, + turning his back upon the crowd that after a few moments' hesitation + gradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid Sandy Bar + from view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee's Partner, + his work done, sitting upon the grave, his shovel between his knees, and + his face buried in his red bandanna handkerchief. But it was argued by + others that you couldn't tell his face from his handkerchief at that + distance; and this point remained undecided. + </p> + <p> + In the reaction that followed the feverish excitement of that day, + Tennessee's Partner was not forgotten. A secret investigation had cleared + him of any complicity in Tennessee's guilt, and left only a suspicion of + his general sanity. Sandy Bar made a point of calling on him, and + proffering various uncouth, but well-meant kindnesses. But from that day + his rude health and great strength seemed visibly to decline; and when the + rainy season fairly set in, and the tiny grass-blades were beginning to + peep from the rocky mound above Tennessee's grave, he took to his bed. One + night, when the pines beside the cabin were swaying in the storm, and + trailing their slender fingers over the roof, and the roar and rush of the + swollen river were heard below, Tennessee's Partner lifted his head from + the pillow, saying, “It is time to go for Tennessee; I must put 'Jinny' in + the cart”; and would have risen from his bed but for the restraint of his + attendant. Struggling, he still pursued his singular fancy: “There, now, + steady, 'Jinny'—steady, old girl. How dark it is! Look out for the + ruts—and look out for him, too, old gal. Sometimes, you know, when + he's blind-drunk, he drops down right in the trail. Keep on straight up to + the pine on the top of the hill. Thar—I told you so!—thar he + is—coming this way, too—all by himself, sober, and his face + a-shining. Tennessee! Pardner!” + </p> + <p> + And so they met. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE IDYL OF RED GULCH + </h2> + <p> + Sandy was very drunk. He was lying under an azalea bush, in pretty much + the same attitude in which he had fallen some hours before. How long he + had been lying there he could not tell, and didn't care; how long he + should lie there was a matter equally indefinite and unconsidered. A + tranquil philosophy, born of his physical condition, suffused and + saturated his moral being. + </p> + <p> + The spectacle of a drunken man, and of this drunken man in particular, was + not, I grieve to say, of sufficient novelty in Red Gulch to attract + attention. Earlier in the day some local satirist had erected a temporary + tombstone at Sandy's head, bearing the inscription, “Effects of McCorkle's + whisky—kills at forty rods,” with a hand pointing to McCorkle's + saloon. But this, I imagine, was, like most local satire, personal; and + was a reflection upon the unfairness of the process rather than a + commentary upon the impropriety of the result. With this facetious + exception, Sandy had been undisturbed. A wandering mule, released from his + pack, had cropped the scant herbage beside him, and sniffed curiously at + the prostrate man; a vagabond dog, with that deep sympathy which the + species have for drunken men, had licked his dusty boots, and curled + himself up at his feet, and lay there, blinking one eye in the sunlight, + with a simulation of dissipation that was ingenious and doglike in its + implied flattery of the unconscious man beside him. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the shadows of the pine trees had slowly swung around until they + crossed the road, and their trunks barred the open meadow with gigantic + parallels of black and yellow. Little puffs of red dust, lifted by the + plunging hoofs of passing teams, dispersed in a grimy shower upon the + recumbent man. The sun sank lower and lower; and still Sandy stirred not. + And then the repose of this philosopher was disturbed, as other + philosophers have been, by the intrusion of an unphilosophical sex. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mary,” as she was known to the little flock that she had just + dismissed from the log schoolhouse beyond the pines, was taking her + afternoon walk. Observing an unusually fine cluster of blossoms on the + azalea bush opposite, she crossed the road to pluck it—picking her + way through the red dust, not without certain fierce little shivers of + disgust and some feline circumlocution. And then she came suddenly upon + Sandy! + </p> + <p> + Of course she uttered the little staccato cry of her sex. But when she had + paid that tribute to her physical weakness she became overbold, and halted + for a moment—at least six feet from this prostrate monster—with + her white skirts gathered in her hand, ready for flight. But neither sound + nor motion came from the bush. With one little foot she then overturned + the satirical headboard, and muttered “Beasts!”—an epithet which + probably, at that moment, conveniently classified in her mind the entire + male population of Red Gulch. For Miss Mary, being possessed of certain + rigid notions of her own, had not, perhaps, properly appreciated the + demonstrative gallantry for which the Californian has been so justly + celebrated by his brother Californians, and had, as a newcomer, perhaps + fairly earned the reputation of being “stuck-up.” + </p> + <p> + As she stood there she noticed, also, that the slant sunbeams were heating + Sandy's head to what she judged to be an unhealthy temperature, and that + his hat was lying uselessly at his side. To pick it up and to place it + over his face was a work requiring some courage, particularly as his eyes + were open. Yet she did it, and made good her retreat. But she was somewhat + concerned, on looking back, to see that the hat was removed, and that + Sandy was sitting up and saying something. + </p> + <p> + The truth was, that in the calm depths of Sandy's mind he was satisfied + that the rays of the sun were beneficial and healthful; that from + childhood he had objected to lying down in a hat; that no people but + condemned fools, past redemption, ever wore hats; and that his right to + dispense with them when he pleased was inalienable. This was the statement + of his inner consciousness. Unfortunately, its outward expression was + vague, being limited to a repetition of the following formula—“Su'shine + all ri'! Wasser maar, eh? Wass up, su'shine?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mary stopped, and, taking fresh courage from her vantage of distance, + asked him if there was anything that he wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Wass up? Wasser maar?” continued Sandy, in a very high key. + </p> + <p> + “Get up, you horrid man!” said Miss Mary, now thoroughly incensed; “get + up, and go home.” + </p> + <p> + Sandy staggered to his feet. He was six feet high, and Miss Mary trembled. + He started forward a few paces and then stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Wass I go home for?” he suddenly asked, with great gravity. + </p> + <p> + “Go and take a bath,” replied Miss Mary, eying his grimy person with great + disfavor. + </p> + <p> + To her infinite dismay, Sandy suddenly pulled off his coat and vest, threw + them on the ground, kicked off his boots, and, plunging wildly forward, + darted headlong over the hill, in the direction of the river. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness heavens!—the man will be drowned!” said Miss Mary; and + then, with feminine inconsistency, she ran back to the schoolhouse and + locked herself in. + </p> + <p> + That night, while seated at supper with her hostess, the blacksmith's + wife, it came to Miss Mary to ask, demurely, if her husband ever got + drunk. “Abner,” responded Mrs. Stidger, reflectively, “let's see: Abner + hasn't been tight since last 'lection.” Miss Mary would have liked to ask + if he preferred lying in the sun on these occasions, and if a cold bath + would have hurt him; but this would have involved an explanation, which + she did not then care to give. So she contented herself with opening her + gray eyes widely at the red-cheeked Mrs. Stidger—a fine specimen of + Southwestern efflorescence—and then dismissed the subject + altogether. The next day she wrote to her dearest friend, in Boston: “I + think I find the intoxicated portion of this community the least + objectionable. I refer, my dear, to the men, of course. I do not know + anything that could make the women tolerable.” + </p> + <p> + In less than a week Miss Mary had forgotten this episode, except that her + afternoon walks took thereafter, almost unconsciously, another direction. + She noticed, however, that every morning a fresh cluster of azalea + blossoms appeared among the flowers on her desk. This was not strange, as + her little flock were aware of her fondness for flowers, and invariably + kept her desk bright with anemones, syringas, and lupines; but, on + questioning them, they one and all professed ignorance of the azaleas. A + few days later, Master Johnny Stidger, whose desk was nearest to the + window, was suddenly taken with spasms of apparently gratuitous laughter + that threatened the discipline of the school. All that Miss Mary could get + from him was, that someone had been “looking in the winder.” Irate and + indignant, she sallied from her hive to do battle with the intruder. As + she turned the corner of the schoolhouse she came plump upon the quondam + drunkard—now perfectly sober, and inexpressibly sheepish and + guilty-looking. + </p> + <p> + These facts Miss Mary was not slow to take a feminine advantage of, in her + present humor. But it was somewhat confusing to observe, also, that the + beast, despite some faint signs of past dissipation, was amiable-looking—in + fact, a kind of blond Samson whose corn-colored, silken beard apparently + had never yet known the touch of barber's razor or Delilah's shears. So + that the cutting speech which quivered on her ready tongue died upon her + lips, and she contented herself with receiving his stammering apology with + supercilious eyelids and the gathered skirts of uncontamination. When she + re-entered the schoolroom, her eyes fell upon the azaleas with a new sense + of revelation. And then she laughed, and the little people all laughed, + and they were all unconsciously very happy. + </p> + <p> + It was on a hot day—and not long after this—that two + short-legged boys came to grief on the threshold of the school with a pail + of water, which they had laboriously brought from the spring, and that + Miss Mary compassionately seized the pail and started for the spring + herself. At the foot of the hill a shadow crossed her path, and a + blue-shirted arm dexterously but gently relieved her of her burden. Miss + Mary was both embarrassed and angry. “If you carried more of that for + yourself,” she said, spitefully, to the blue arm, without deigning to + raise her lashes to its owner, “you'd do better.” In the submissive + silence that followed she regretted the speech, and thanked him so sweetly + at the door that he stumbled. Which caused the children to laugh again—a + laugh in which Miss Mary joined, until the color came faintly into her + pale cheek. The next day a barrel was mysteriously placed beside the door, + and as mysteriously filled with fresh spring water every morning. + </p> + <p> + Nor was this superior young person without other quiet attentions. + “Profane Bill,” driver of the Slumgullion Stage, widely known in the + newspapers for his “gallantry” in invariably offering the box seat to the + fair sex, had excepted Miss Mary from this attention, on the ground that + he had a habit of “cussin' on upgrades,” and gave her half the coach to + herself. Jack Hamlin, a gambler, having once silently ridden with her in + the same coach, afterward threw a decanter at the head of a confederate + for mentioning her name in a barroom. The overdressed mother of a pupil + whose paternity was doubtful had often lingered near this astute Vestal's + temple, never daring to enter its sacred precincts, but content to worship + the priestess from afar. + </p> + <p> + With such unconscious intervals the monotonous procession of blue skies, + glittering sunshine, brief twilights, and starlit nights passed over Red + Gulch. Miss Mary grew fond of walking in the sedate and proper woods. + Perhaps she believed, with Mrs. Stidger, that the balsamic odors of the + firs “did her chest good,” for certainly her slight cough was less + frequent and her step was firmer; perhaps she had learned the unending + lesson which the patient pines are never weary of repeating to heedful or + listless ears. And so, one day, she planned a picnic on Buckeye Hill, and + took the children with her. Away from the dusty road, the straggling + shanties, the yellow ditches, the clamor of restless engines, the cheap + finery of shop windows, the deeper glitter of paint and colored glass, and + the thin veneering which barbarism takes upon itself in such localities—what + infinite relief was theirs! The last heap of ragged rock and clay passed, + the last unsightly chasm crossed—how the waiting woods opened their + long files to receive them! How the children—perhaps because they + had not yet grown quite away from the breast of the bounteous Mother—threw + themselves face downward on her brown bosom with uncouth caresses, filling + the air with their laughter; and how Miss Mary herself—felinely + fastidious and intrenched as she was in the purity of spotless skirts, + collar, and cuffs—forgot all, and ran like a crested quail at the + head of her brood until, romping, laughing, and panting, with a loosened + braid of brown hair, a hat hanging by a knotted ribbon from her throat, + she came suddenly and violently, in the heart of the forest, upon—the + luckless Sandy! + </p> + <p> + The explanations, apologies, and not overwise conversation that ensued + need not be indicated here. It would seem, however, that Miss Mary had + already established some acquaintance with this ex-drunkard. Enough that + he was soon accepted as one of the party; that the children, with that + quick intelligence which Providence gives the helpless, recognized a + friend, and played with his blond beard and long silken mustache, and took + other liberties—as the helpless are apt to do. And when he had built + a fire against a tree, and had shown them other mysteries of woodcraft, + their admiration knew no bounds. At the close of two such foolish, idle, + happy hours he found himself lying at the feet of the schoolmistress, + gazing dreamily in her face, as she sat upon the sloping hillside weaving + wreaths of laurel and syringa, in very much the same attitude as he had + lain when first they met. Nor was the similitude greatly forced. The + weakness of an easy, sensuous nature that had found a dreamy exaltation in + liquor, it is to be feared was now finding an equal intoxication in love. + </p> + <p> + I think that Sandy was dimly conscious of this himself. I know that he + longed to be doing something—slaying a grizzly, scalping a savage, + or sacrificing himself in some way for the sake of this sallow-faced, + gray-eyed schoolmistress. As I should like to present him in a heroic + attitude, I stay my hand with great difficulty at this moment, being only + withheld from introducing such an episode by a strong conviction that it + does not usually occur at such times. And I trust that my fairest reader, + who remembers that, in a real crisis, it is always some uninteresting + stranger or unromantic policeman, and not Adolphus, who rescues, will + forgive the omission. + </p> + <p> + So they sat there, undisturbed—the woodpeckers chattering overhead + and the voices of the children coming pleasantly from the hollow below. + What they said matters little. What they thought—which might have + been interesting—did not transpire. The woodpeckers only learned how + Miss Mary was an orphan; how she left her uncle's house, to come to + California, for the sake of health and independence; how Sandy was an + orphan, too; how he came to California for excitement; how he had lived a + wild life, and how he was trying to reform; and other details, which, from + a woodpecker's viewpoint, undoubtedly must have seemed stupid, and a waste + of time. But even in such trifles was the afternoon spent; and when the + children were again gathered, and Sandy, with a delicacy which the + schoolmistress well understood, took leave of them quietly at the + outskirts of the settlement, it had seemed the shortest day of her weary + life. + </p> + <p> + As the long, dry summer withered to its roots, the school term of Red + Gulch—to use a local euphuism—“dried up” also. In another day + Miss Mary would be free; and for a season, at least, Red Gulch would know + her no more. She was seated alone in the schoolhouse, her cheek resting on + her hand, her eyes half-closed in one of those daydreams in which Miss + Mary—I fear to the danger of school discipline—was lately in + the habit of indulging. Her lap was full of mosses, ferns, and other + woodland memories. She was so preoccupied with these and her own thoughts + that a gentle tapping at the door passed unheard, or translated itself + into the remembrance of far-off woodpeckers. When at last it asserted + itself more distinctly, she started up with a flushed cheek and opened the + door. On the threshold stood a woman the self-assertion and audacity of + whose dress were in singular contrast to her timid, irresolute bearing. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mary recognized at a glance the dubious mother of her anonymous + pupil. Perhaps she was disappointed, perhaps she was only fastidious; but + as she coldly invited her to enter, she half-unconsciously settled her + white cuffs and collar, and gathered closer her own chaste skirts. It was, + perhaps, for this reason that the embarrassed stranger, after a moment's + hesitation, left her gorgeous parasol open and sticking in the dust beside + the door, and then sat down at the farther end of a long bench. Her voice + was husky as she began: + </p> + <p> + “I heerd tell that you were goin' down to the Bay tomorrow, and I couldn't + let you go until I came to thank you for your kindness to my Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + Tommy, Miss Mary said, was a good boy, and deserved more than the poor + attention she could give him. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, miss; thank ye!” cried the stranger, brightening even through + the color which Red Gulch knew facetiously as her “war paint,” and + striving, in her embarrassment, to drag the long bench nearer the + schoolmistress. “I thank you, miss, for that! and if I am his mother, + there ain't a sweeter, dearer, better boy lives than him. And if I ain't + much as says it, thar ain't a sweeter, dearer, angeler teacher lives than + he's got.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mary, sitting primly behind her desk, with a ruler over her shoulder, + opened her gray eyes widely at this, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't for you to be complimented by the like of me, I know,” she went + on, hurriedly. “It ain't for me to be comin' here, in broad day, to do it, + either; but I come to ask a favor—not for me, miss—not for me, + but for the darling boy.” + </p> + <p> + Encouraged by a look in the young schoolmistress's eye, and putting her + lilac-gloved hands together, the fingers downward, between her knees, she + went on, in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “You see, miss, there's no one the boy has any claim on but me, and I + ain't the proper person to bring him up. I thought some, last year, of + sending him away to Frisco to school, but when they talked of bringing a + schoolma'am here, I waited till I saw you, and then I knew it was all + right, and I could keep my boy a little longer. And O, miss, he loves you + so much; and if you could hear him talk about you, in his pretty way, and + if he could ask you what I ask you now, you couldn't refuse him. + </p> + <p> + “It is natural,” she went on, rapidly, in a voice that trembled strangely + between pride and humility—“it's natural that he should take to you, + miss, for his father, when I first knew him, was a gentleman—and the + boy must forget me, sooner or later—and so I ain't goin' to cry + about that. For I come to ask you to take my Tommy—God bless him for + the bestest, sweetest boy that lives—to—to—take him with + you.” + </p> + <p> + She had risen and caught the young girl's hand in her own, and had fallen + on her knees beside her. + </p> + <p> + “I've money plenty, and it's all yours and his. Put him in some good + school, where you can go and see him, and help him to—to—to + forget his mother. Do with him what you like. The worst you can do will be + kindness to what he will learn with me. Only take him out of this wicked + life, this cruel place, this home of shame and sorrow. You will; I know + you will—won't you? You will—you must not, you cannot say no! + You will make him as pure, as gentle as yourself; and when he has grown + up, you will tell him his father's name—the name that hasn't passed + my lips for years—the name of Alexander Morton, whom they call here + Sandy! Miss Mary!—do not take your hand away! Miss Mary, speak to + me! You will take my boy? Do not put your face from me. I know it ought + not to look on such as me. Miss Mary!—my God, be merciful!—she + is leaving me!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mary had risen and, in the gathering twilight, had felt her way to + the open window. She stood there, leaning against the casement, her eyes + fixed on the last rosy tints that were fading from the western sky. There + was still some of its light on her pure young forehead, on her white + collar, on her clasped white hands, but all fading slowly away. The + suppliant had dragged herself, still on her knees, beside her. + </p> + <p> + “I know it takes time to consider. I will wait here all night; but I + cannot go until you speak. Do not deny me now. You will!—I see it in + your sweet face—such a face as I have seen in my dreams. I see it in + your eyes, Miss Mary!—you will take my boy!” + </p> + <p> + The last red beam crept higher, suffused Miss Mary's eyes with something + of its glory, flickered, and faded, and went out. The sun had set on Red + Gulch. In the twilight and silence Miss Mary's voice sounded pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “I will take the boy. Send him to me tonight.” + </p> + <p> + The happy mother raised the hem of Miss Mary's skirts to her lips. She + would have buried her hot face in its virgin folds, but she dared not. She + rose to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Does—this man—know of your intention?” asked Miss Mary, + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “No, nor cares. He has never even seen the child to know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to him at once—tonight—now! Tell him what you have done. + Tell him I have taken his child, and tell him—he must never see—see—the + child again. Wherever it may be, he must not come; wherever I may take it, + he must not follow! There, go now, please—I'm weary, and—have + much yet to do!” + </p> + <p> + They walked together to the door. On the threshold the woman turned. + </p> + <p> + “Good night.” + </p> + <p> + She would have fallen at Miss Mary's feet. But at the same moment the + young girl reached out her arms, caught the sinful woman to her own pure + breast for one brief moment, and then closed and locked the door. + </p> + <p> + It was with a sudden sense of great responsibility that Profane Bill took + the reins of the Slumgullion Stage the next morning, for the + schoolmistress was one of his passengers. As he entered the highroad, in + obedience to a pleasant voice from the “inside,” he suddenly reined up his + horses and respectfully waited as Tommy hopped out at the command of Miss + Mary. “Not that bush, Tommy—the next.” + </p> + <p> + Tommy whipped out his new pocketknife, and, cutting a branch from a tall + azalea bush, returned with it to Miss Mary. + </p> + <p> + “All right now?” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + And the stage door closed on the Idyl of Red Gulch. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BROWN OF CALAVERAS + </h2> + <p> + A subdued tone of conversation, and the absence of cigar smoke and boot + heels at the windows of the Wingdam stagecoach, made it evident that one + of the inside passengers was a woman. A disposition on the part of + loungers at the stations to congregate before the window, and some concern + in regard to the appearance of coats, hats, and collars, further indicated + that she was lovely. All of which Mr. Jack Hamlin, on the box seat, noted + with the smile of cynical philosophy. Not that he depreciated the sex, but + that he recognized therein a deceitful element, the pursuit of which + sometimes drew mankind away from the equally uncertain blandishments of + poker—of which it may be remarked that Mr. Hamlin was a professional + exponent. + </p> + <p> + So that when he placed his narrow boot on the wheel and leaped down, he + did not even glance at the window from which a green veil was fluttering, + but lounged up and down with that listless and grave indifference of his + class, which was, perhaps, the next thing to good breeding. With his + closely buttoned figure and self-contained air he was a marked contrast to + the other passengers, with their feverish restlessness and boisterous + emotion; and even Bill Masters, a graduate of Harvard, with his slovenly + dress, his overflowing vitality, his intense appreciation of lawlessness + and barbarism, and his mouth filled with crackers and cheese, I fear cut + but an unromantic figure beside this lonely calculator of chances, with + his pale Greek face and Homeric gravity. + </p> + <p> + The driver called “All aboard!” and Mr. Hamlin returned to the coach. His + foot was upon the wheel, and his face raised to the level of the open + window, when, at the same moment, what appeared to him to be the finest + eyes in the world suddenly met his. He quietly dropped down again, + addressed a few words to one of the inside passengers, effected an + exchange of seats, and as quietly took his place inside. Mr. Hamlin never + allowed his philosophy to interfere with decisive and prompt action. + </p> + <p> + I fear that this irruption of Jack cast some restraint upon the other + passengers—particularly those who were making themselves most + agreeable to the lady. One of them leaned forward, and apparently conveyed + to her information regarding Mr. Hamlin's profession in a single epithet. + Whether Mr. Hamlin heard it, or whether he recognized in the informant a + distinguished jurist from whom, but a few evenings before, he had won + several thousand dollars, I cannot say. His colorless face betrayed no + sign; his black eyes, quietly observant, glanced indifferently past the + legal gentleman, and rested on the much more pleasing features of his + neighbor. An Indian stoicism—said to be an inheritance from his + maternal ancestor—stood him in good service, until the rolling + wheels rattled upon the river gravel at Scott's Ferry, and the stage drew + up at the International Hotel for dinner. The legal gentleman and a member + of Congress leaped out, and stood ready to assist the descending goddess, + while Colonel Starbottle, of Siskiyou, took charge of her parasol and + shawl. In this multiplicity of attention there was a momentary confusion + and delay. Jack Hamlin quietly opened the OPPOSITE door of the coach, took + the lady's hand—with that decision and positiveness which a + hesitating and undecided sex know how to admire—and in an instant + had dexterously and gracefully swung her to the ground, and again lifted + her to the platform. An audible chuckle on the box, I fear, came from that + other cynic, “Yuba Bill,” the driver. “Look keerfully arter that baggage, + Kernel,” said the expressman, with affected concern, as he looked after + Colonel Starbottle, gloomily bringing up the rear of the triumphant + procession to the waiting-room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin did not stay for dinner. His horse was already saddled, and + awaiting him. He dashed over the ford, up the gravelly hill, and out into + the dusty perspective of the Wingdam road, like one leaving pleasant fancy + behind him. The inmates of dusty cabins by the roadside shaded their eyes + with their hands and looked after him, recognizing the man by his horse, + and speculating what “was up with Comanche Jack.” Yet much of this + interest centered in the horse, in a community where the time made by + “French Pete's” mare in his run from the Sheriff of Calaveras eclipsed all + concern in the ultimate fate of that worthy. + </p> + <p> + The sweating flanks of his gray at length recalled him to himself. He + checked his speed, and, turning into a by-road, sometimes used as a + cutoff, trotted leisurely along, the reins hanging listlessly from his + fingers. As he rode on, the character of the landscape changed and became + more pastoral. Openings in groves of pine and sycamore disclosed some rude + attempts at cultivation—a flowering vine trailed over the porch of + one cabin, and a woman rocked her cradled babe under the roses of another. + A little farther on Mr. Hamlin came upon some barelegged children wading + in the willowy creek, and so wrought upon them with a badinage peculiar to + himself that they were emboldened to climb up his horse's legs and over + his saddle, until he was fain to develop an exaggerated ferocity of + demeanor, and to escape, leaving behind some kisses and coin. And then, + advancing deeper into the woods, where all signs of habitation failed, he + began to sing—uplifting a tenor so singularly sweet, and shaded by a + pathos so subduing and tender, that I wot the robins and linnets stopped + to listen. Mr. Hamlin's voice was not cultivated; the subject of his song + was some sentimental lunacy borrowed from the Negro minstrels; but there + thrilled through all some occult quality of tone and expression that was + unspeakably touching. Indeed, it was a wonderful sight to see this + sentimental blackleg, with a pack of cards in his pocket and a revolver at + his back, sending his voice before him through the dim woods with a plaint + about his “Nelly's grave” in a way that overflowed the eyes of the + listener. A sparrow hawk, fresh from his sixth victim, possibly + recognizing in Mr. Hamlin a kindred spirit, stared at him in surprise, and + was fain to confess the superiority of man. With a superior predatory + capacity, HE couldn't sing. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Hamlin presently found himself again on the highroad, and at his + former pace. Ditches and banks of gravel, denuded hillsides, stumps, and + decayed trunks of trees, took the place of woodland and ravine, and + indicated his approach to civilization. Then a church steeple came in + sight, and he knew that he had reached home. In a few moments he was + clattering down the single narrow street that lost itself in a chaotic + ruin of races, ditches, and tailings at the foot of the hill, and + dismounted before the gilded windows of the “Magnolia” saloon. Passing + through the long barroom, he pushed open a green-baize door, entered a + dark passage, opened another door with a passkey, and found himself in a + dimly lighted room whose furniture, though elegant and costly for the + locality, showed signs of abuse. The inlaid center table was overlaid with + stained disks that were not contemplated in the original design. The + embroidered armchairs were discolored, and the green velvet lounge, on + which Mr. Hamlin threw himself, was soiled at the foot with the red soil + of Wingdam. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin did not sing in his cage. He lay still, looking at a highly + colored painting above him representing a young creature of opulent + charms. It occurred to him then, for the first time, that he had never + seen exactly that kind of a woman, and that if he should, he would not, + probably, fall in love with her. Perhaps he was thinking of another style + of beauty. But just then someone knocked at the door. Without rising, he + pulled a cord that apparently shot back a bolt, for the door swung open, + and a man entered. + </p> + <p> + The newcomer was broad-shouldered and robust—a vigor not borne out + in the face, which, though handsome, was singularly weak, and disfigured + by dissipation. He appeared to be also under the influence of liquor, for + he started on seeing Mr. Hamlin, and said, “I thought Kate was here,” + stammered, and seemed confused and embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin smiled the smile which he had before worn on the Wingdam coach, + and sat up, quite refreshed and ready for business. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't come up on the stage,” continued the newcomer, “did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Hamlin; “I left it at Scott's Ferry. It isn't due for half + an hour yet. But how's luck, Brown?” + </p> + <p> + “Damn bad,” said Brown, his face suddenly assuming an expression of weak + despair; “I'm cleaned out again, Jack,” he continued, in a whining tone + that formed a pitiable contrast to his bulky figure, “can't you help me + with a hundred till tomorrow's cleanup? You see I've got to send money + home to the old woman, and—you've won twenty times that amount from + me.” + </p> + <p> + The conclusion was, perhaps, not entirely logical, but Jack overlooked it, + and handed the sum to his visitor. “The old-woman business is about played + out, Brown,” he added, by way of commentary; “why don't you say you want + to buck agin' faro? You know you ain't married!” + </p> + <p> + “Fact, sir,” said Brown, with a sudden gravity, as if the mere contact of + the gold with the palm of the hand had imparted some dignity to his frame. + “I've got a wife—a damned good one, too, if I do say it—in the + States. It's three year since I've seen her, and a year since I've writ to + her. When things is about straight, and we get down to the lead, I'm going + to send for her.” + </p> + <p> + “And Kate?” queried Mr. Hamlin, with his previous smile. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown of Calaveras essayed an archness of glance, to cover his + confusion, which his weak face and whisky-muddled intellect but poorly + carried out, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Damn it, Jack, a man must have a little liberty, you know. But come, what + do you say to a little game? Give us a show to double this hundred.” + </p> + <p> + Jack Hamlin looked curiously at his fatuous friend. Perhaps he knew that + the man was predestined to lose the money, and preferred that it should + flow back into his own coffers rather than any other. He nodded his head, + and drew his chair toward the table. At the same moment there came a rap + upon the door. + </p> + <p> + “It's Kate,” said Mr. Brown. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin shot back the bolt, and the door opened. But, for the first + time in his life, he staggered to his feet, utterly unnerved and abashed, + and for the first time in his life the hot blood crimsoned his colorless + cheeks to his forehead. For before him stood the lady he had lifted from + the Wingdam coach, whom Brown—dropping his cards with a hysterical + laugh—greeted as: + </p> + <p> + “My old woman, by thunder!” + </p> + <p> + They say that Mrs. Brown burst into tears, and reproaches of her husband. + I saw her, in 1857, at Marysville, and disbelieve the story. And the + WINGDAM CHRONICLE, of the next week, under the head of “Touching Reunion,” + said: “One of those beautiful and touching incidents, peculiar to + California life, occurred last week in our city. The wife of one of + Wingdam's eminent pioneers, tired of the effete civilization of the East + and its inhospitable climate, resolved to join her noble husband upon + these golden shores. Without informing him of her intention, she undertook + the long journey, and arrived last week. The joy of the husband may be + easier imagined than described. The meeting is said to have been + indescribably affecting. We trust her example may be followed.” + </p> + <p> + Whether owing to Mrs. Brown's influence, or to some more successful + speculations, Mr. Brown's financial fortune from that day steadily + improved. He bought out his partners in the “Nip and Tuck” lead, with + money which was said to have been won at poker, a week or two after his + wife's arrival, but which rumor, adopting Mrs. Brown's theory that Brown + had forsworn the gaming-table, declared to have been furnished by Mr. Jack + Hamlin. He built and furnished the “Wingdam House,” which pretty Mrs. + Brown's great popularity kept overflowing with guests. He was elected to + the Assembly, and gave largess to churches. A street in Wingdam was named + in his honor. + </p> + <p> + Yet it was noted that in proportion as he waxed wealthy and fortunate, he + grew pale, thin, and anxious. As his wife's popularity increased, he + became fretful and impatient. The most uxorious of husbands, he was + absurdly jealous. If he did not interfere with his wife's social liberty, + it was because it was maliciously whispered that his first and only + attempt was met by an outburst from Mrs. Brown that terrified him into + silence. Much of this kind of gossip came from those of her own sex whom + she had supplanted in the chivalrous attentions of Wingdam, which, like + most popular chivalry, was devoted to an admiration of power, whether of + masculine force or feminine beauty. It should be remembered, too, in her + extenuation that since her arrival, she had been the unconscious priestess + of a mythological worship, perhaps not more ennobling to her womanhood + than that which distinguished an older Greek democracy. I think that Brown + was dimly conscious of this. But his only confidant was Jack Hamlin, whose + INFELIX reputation naturally precluded any open intimacy with the family, + and whose visits were infrequent. + </p> + <p> + It was midsummer, and a moonlit night; and Mrs. Brown, very rosy, + large-eyed, and pretty, sat upon the piazza, enjoying the fresh incense of + the mountain breeze, and, it is to be feared, another incense which was + not so fresh, nor quite as innocent. Beside her sat Colonel Starbottle and + Judge Boompointer, and a later addition to her court in the shape of a + foreign tourist. She was in good spirits. + </p> + <p> + “What do you see down the road?” inquired the gallant Colonel, who had + been conscious, for the last few minutes, that Mrs. Brown's attention was + diverted. + </p> + <p> + “Dust,” said Mrs. Brown, with a sigh. “Only Sister Anne's 'flock of + sheep.'” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel, whose literary recollections did not extend farther back than + last week's paper, took a more practical view. “It ain't sheep,” he + continued; “it's a horseman. Judge, ain't that Jack Hamlin's gray?” + </p> + <p> + But the Judge didn't know; and as Mrs. Brown suggested the air was growing + too cold for further investigations, they retired to the parlor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown was in the stable, where he generally retired after dinner. + Perhaps it was to show his contempt for his wife's companions; perhaps, + like other weak natures, he found pleasure in the exercise of absolute + power over inferior animals. He had a certain gratification in the + training of a chestnut mare, whom he could beat or caress as pleased him, + which he couldn't do with Mrs. Brown. It was here that he recognized a + certain gray horse which had just come in, and, looking a little farther + on, found his rider. Brown's greeting was cordial and hearty, Mr. Hamlin's + somewhat restrained. But at Brown's urgent request, he followed him up the + back stairs to a narrow corridor, and thence to a small room looking out + upon the stable yard. It was plainly furnished with a bed, a table, a few + chairs, and a rack for guns and whips. + </p> + <p> + “This yer's my home, Jack,” said Brown, with a sigh, as he threw himself + upon the bed, and motioned his companion to a chair. “Her room's t'other + end of the hall. It's more'n six months since we've lived together, or + met, except at meals. It's mighty rough papers on the head of the house, + ain't it?” he said, with a forced laugh. “But I'm glad to see you, Jack, + damn glad,” and he reached from the bed, and again shook the unresponsive + hand of Jack Hamlin. + </p> + <p> + “I brought ye up here, for I didn't want to talk in the stable; though, + for the matter of that, it's all round town. Don't strike a light. We can + talk here in the moonshine. Put up your feet on that winder, and sit here + beside me. Thar's whisky in that jug.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin did not avail himself of the information. Brown of Calaveras + turned his face to the wall and continued: + </p> + <p> + “If I didn't love the woman, Jack, I wouldn't mind. But it's loving her, + and seeing her, day arter day, goin' on at this rate, and no one to put + down the brake; that's what gits me! But I'm glad to see ye, Jack, damn + glad.” + </p> + <p> + In the darkness he groped about until he had found and wrung his + companion's hand again. He would have detained it, but Jack slipped it + into the buttoned breast of his coat, and asked, listlessly, “How long has + this been going on?” + </p> + <p> + “Ever since she came here; ever since the day she walked into the + Magnolia. I was a fool then; Jack, I'm a fool now; but I didn't know how + much I loved her till then. And she hasn't been the same woman since. + </p> + <p> + “But that ain't all, Jack; and it's what I wanted to see you about, and + I'm glad you've come. It ain't that she doesn't love me any more; it ain't + that she fools with every chap that comes along, for, perhaps, I staked + her love and lost it, as I did everything else at the Magnolia; and, + perhaps, foolin' is nateral to some women, and thar ain't no great harm + done, 'cept to the fools. But, Jack, I think—I think she loves + somebody else. Don't move, Jack; don't move; if your pistol hurts ye, take + it off. + </p> + <p> + “It's been more'n six months now that she's seemed unhappy and lonesome, + and kinder nervous and scared-like. And sometimes I've ketched her lookin' + at me sort of timid and pitying. And she writes to somebody. And for the + last week she's been gathering her own things—trinkets, and + furbelows, and jew'lry—and, Jack, I think she's goin' off. I could + stand all but that. To have her steal away like a thief—” He put his + face downward to the pillow, and for a few moments there was no sound but + the ticking of a clock on the mantel. Mr. Hamlin lit a cigar, and moved to + the open window. The moon no longer shone into the room, and the bed and + its occupant were in shadow. “What shall I do, Jack?” said the voice from + the darkness. + </p> + <p> + The answer came promptly and clearly from the window-side: “Spot the man, + and kill him on sight.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “He's took the risk!” + </p> + <p> + “But will that bring HER back?” + </p> + <p> + Jack did not reply, but moved from the window toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Don't go yet, Jack; light the candle, and sit by the table. It's a + comfort to see ye, if nothin' else.” + </p> + <p> + Jack hesitated, and then complied. He drew a pack of cards from his pocket + and shuffled them, glancing at the bed. But Brown's face was turned to the + wall. When Mr. Hamlin had shuffled the cards, he cut them, and dealt one + card on the opposite side of the table and toward the bed, and another on + his side of the table for himself. The first was a deuce, his own card, a + king. He then shuffled and cut again. This time “dummy” had a queen, and + himself a four-spot. Jack brightened up for the third deal. It brought his + adversary a deuce, and himself a king again. “Two out of three,” said + Jack, audibly. + </p> + <p> + “What's that, Jack?” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Then Jack tried his hand with dice; but he always threw sixes, and his + imaginary opponent aces. The force of habit is sometimes confusing. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, some magnetic influence in Mr. Hamlin's presence, or the + anodyne of liquor, or both, brought surcease of sorrow, and Brown slept. + Mr. Hamlin moved his chair to the window, and looked out on the town of + Wingdam, now sleeping peacefully—its harsh outlines softened and + subdued, its glaring colors mellowed and sobered in the moonlight that + flowed over all. In the hush he could hear the gurgling of water in the + ditches, and the sighing of the pines beyond the hill. Then he looked up + at the firmament, and as he did so a star shot across the twinkling field. + Presently another, and then another. The phenomenon suggested to Mr. + Hamlin a fresh augury. If in another fifteen minutes another star should + fall—He sat there, watch in hand, for twice that time, but the + phenomenon was not repeated. + </p> + <p> + The clock struck two, and Brown still slept. Mr. Hamlin approached the + table and took from his pocket a letter, which he read by the flickering + candlelight. It contained only a single line, written in pencil, in a + woman's hand: + </p> + <p> + “Be at the corral, with the buggy, at three.” + </p> + <p> + The sleeper moved uneasily, and then awoke. “Are you there Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't go yet. I dreamed just now, Jack—dreamed of old times. I + thought that Sue and me was being married agin, and that the parson, Jack, + was—who do you think?—you!” + </p> + <p> + The gambler laughed, and seated himself on the bed—the paper still + in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “It's a good sign, ain't it?” queried Brown. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon. Say, old man, hadn't you better get up?” + </p> + <p> + The “old man,” thus affectionately appealed to, rose, with the assistance + of Hamlin's outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + “Smoke?” + </p> + <p> + Brown mechanically took the proffered cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Light?” + </p> + <p> + Jack had twisted the letter into a spiral, lit it, and held it for his + companion. He continued to hold it until it was consumed, and dropped the + fragment—a fiery star—from the open window. He watched it as + it fell, and then returned to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Old man,” he said, placing his hands upon Brown's shoulders, “in ten + minutes I'll be on the road, and gone like that spark. We won't see each + other agin; but, before I go, take a fool's advice: sell out all you've + got, take your wife with you, and quit the country. It ain't no place for + you, nor her. Tell her she must go; make her go, if she won't. Don't whine + because you can't be a saint, and she ain't an angel. Be a man—and + treat her like a woman. Don't be a damn fool. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He tore himself from Brown's grasp, and leaped down the stairs like a + deer. At the stable door he collared the half-sleeping hostler and backed + him against the wall. “Saddle my horse in two minutes, or I'll—” The + ellipsis was frightfully suggestive. + </p> + <p> + “The missis said you was to have the buggy,” stammered the man. + </p> + <p> + “Damn the buggy!” + </p> + <p> + The horse was saddled as fast as the nervous hands of the astounded + hostler could manipulate buckle and strap. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything up, Mr. Hamlin?” said the man, who, like all his class, + admired the elan of his fiery patron, and was really concerned in his + welfare. + </p> + <p> + “Stand aside!” + </p> + <p> + The man fell back. With an oath, a bound, and clatter, Jack was into the + road. In another moment, to the man's half-awakened eyes, he was but a + moving cloud of dust in the distance, toward which a star just loosed from + its brethren was trailing a stream of fire. + </p> + <p> + But early that morning the dwellers by the Wingdam turnpike, miles away, + heard a voice, pure as a skylark's, singing afield. They who were asleep + turned over on their rude couches to dream of youth and love and olden + days. Hard-faced men and anxious gold-seekers, already at work, ceased + their labors and leaned upon their picks, to listen to a romantic vagabond + ambling away against the rosy sunrise. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HIGH-WATER MARK + </h2> + <p> + When the tide was out on the Dedlow Marsh, its extended dreariness was + patent. Its spongy, low-lying surface, sluggish, inky pools, and tortuous + sloughs, twisting their slimy way, eel-like, toward the open bay, were all + hard facts. So were the few green tussocks, with their scant blades, their + amphibious flavor and unpleasant dampness. And if you choose to indulge + your fancy—although the flat monotony of the Dedlow Marsh was not + inspiring—the wavy line of scattered drift gave an unpleasant + consciousness of the spent waters, and made the dead certainty of the + returning tide a gloomy reflection which no present sunshine could + dissipate. The greener meadowland seemed oppressed with this idea, and + made no positive attempt at vegetation until the work of reclamation + should be complete. In the bitter fruit of the low cranberry bushes one + might fancy he detected a naturally sweet disposition curdled and soured + by an injudicious course of too much regular cold water. + </p> + <p> + The vocal expression of the Dedlow Marsh was also melancholy and + depressing. The sepulchral boom of the bittern, the shriek of the curlew, + the scream of passing brent, the wrangling of quarrelsome teal, the sharp, + querulous protest of the startled crane, and syllabled complaint of the + “killdeer” plover, were beyond the power of written expression. Nor was + the aspect of these mournful fowls at all cheerful and inspiring. + Certainly not the blue heron standing mid-leg deep in the water, obviously + catching cold in a reckless disregard of wet feet and consequences; nor + the mournful curlew, the dejected plover, or the low-spirited snipe, who + saw fit to join him in his suicidal contemplation; nor the impassive + kingfisher—an ornithological Marius—reviewing the desolate + expanse; nor the black raven that went to and fro over the face of the + marsh continually, but evidently couldn't make up his mind whether the + waters had subsided, and felt low-spirited in the reflection that, after + all this trouble, he wouldn't be able to give a definite answer. On the + contrary, it was evident at a glance that the dreary expanse of Dedlow + Marsh told unpleasantly on the birds, and that the season of migration was + looked forward to with a feeling of relief and satisfaction by the + full-grown, and of extravagant anticipation by the callow, brood. But if + Dedlow Marsh was cheerless at the slack of the low tide, you should have + seen it when the tide was strong and full. When the damp air blew chilly + over the cold, glittering expanse, and came to the faces of those who + looked seaward like another tide; when a steel-like glint marked the low + hollows and the sinuous line of slough; when the great shell-incrusted + trunks of fallen trees arose again, and went forth on their dreary, + purposeless wanderings, drifting hither and thither, but getting no + farther toward any goal at the falling tide or the day's decline than the + cursed Hebrew in the legend; when the glossy ducks swung silently, making + neither ripple nor furrow on the shimmering surface; when the fog came in + with the tide and shut out the blue above, even as the green below had + been obliterated; when boatmen lost in that fog, paddling about in a + hopeless way, started at what seemed the brushing of mermen's fingers on + the boat's keel, or shrank from the tufts of grass spreading around like + the floating hair of a corpse, and knew by these signs that they were lost + upon Dedlow Marsh and must make a night of it, and a gloomy one at that—then + you might know something of Dedlow Marsh at high water. + </p> + <p> + Let me recall a story connected with this latter view which never failed + to recur to my mind in my long gunning excursions upon Dedlow Marsh. + Although the event was briefly recorded in the county paper, I had the + story, in all its eloquent detail, from the lips of the principal actor. I + cannot hope to catch the varying emphasis and peculiar coloring of + feminine delineation, for my narrator was a woman; but I'll try to give at + least its substance. + </p> + <p> + She lived midway of the great slough of Dedlow Marsh and a good-sized + river, which debouched four miles beyond into an estuary formed by the + Pacific Ocean, on the long sandy peninsula which constituted the + southwestern boundary of a noble bay. The house in which she lived was a + small frame cabin raised from the marsh a few feet by stout piles, and was + three miles distant from the settlements upon the river. Her husband was a + logger—a profitable business in a county where the principal + occupation was the manufacture of lumber. + </p> + <p> + It was the season of early spring when her husband left on the ebb of a + high tide, with a raft of logs for the usual transportation to the lower + end of the bay. As she stood by the door of the little cabin when the + voyagers departed she noticed a cold look in the southeastern sky, and she + remembered hearing her husband say to his companions that they must + endeavor to complete their voyage before the coming of the southwesterly + gale which he saw brewing. And that night it began to storm and blow + harder than she had ever before experienced, and some great trees fell in + the forest by the river, and the house rocked like her baby's cradle. + </p> + <p> + But however the storm might roar about the little cabin, she knew that one + she trusted had driven bolt and bar with his own strong hand, and that had + he feared for her he would not have left her. This, and her domestic + duties, and the care of her little sickly baby, helped to keep her mind + from dwelling on the weather, except, of course, to hope that he was + safely harbored with the logs at Utopia in the dreary distance. But she + noticed that day, when she went out to feed the chickens and look after + the cow, that the tide was up to the little fence of their garden-patch, + and the roar of the surf on the south beach, though miles away, she could + hear distinctly. And she began to think that she would like to have + someone to talk with about matters, and she believed that if it had not + been so far and so stormy, and the trail so impassable, she would have + taken the baby and have gone over to Ryckman's, her nearest neighbor. But + then, you see, he might have returned in the storm, all wet, with no one + to see to him; and it was a long exposure for baby, who was croupy and + ailing. + </p> + <p> + But that night, she never could tell why, she didn't feel like sleeping or + even lying down. The storm had somewhat abated, but she still “sat and + sat,” and even tried to read. I don't know whether it was a Bible or some + profane magazine that this poor woman read, but most probably the latter, + for the words all ran together and made such sad nonsense that she was + forced at last to put the book down and turn to that dearer volume which + lay before her in the cradle, with its white initial leaf as yet unsoiled, + and try to look forward to its mysterious future. And, rocking the cradle, + she thought of everything and everybody, but still was wide-awake as ever. + </p> + <p> + It was nearly twelve o'clock when she at last lay down in her clothes. How + long she slept she could not remember, but she awoke with a dreadful + choking in her throat, and found herself standing, trembling all over, in + the middle of the room, with her baby clasped to her breast, and she was + “saying something.” The baby cried and sobbed, and she walked up and down + trying to hush it when she heard a scratching at the door. She opened it + fearfully, and was glad to see it was only old Pete, their dog, who + crawled, dripping with water, into the room. She would like to have looked + out, not in the faint hope of her husband's coming, but to see how things + looked; but the wind shook the door so savagely that she could hardly hold + it. Then she sat down a little while, and then walked up and down a little + while, and then she lay down again a little while. Lying close by the wall + of the little cabin, she thought she heard once or twice something scrape + slowly against the clapboards, like the scraping of branches. Then there + was a little gurgling sound, “like the baby made when it was swallowing”; + then something went “click-click” and “cluck-cluck,” so that she sat up in + bed. When she did so she was attracted by something else that seemed + creeping from the back door toward the center of the room. It wasn't much + wider than her little finger, but soon it swelled to the width of her + hand, and began spreading all over the floor. It was water. + </p> + <p> + She ran to the front door and threw it wide open, and saw nothing but + water. She ran to the back door and threw it open, and saw nothing but + water. She ran to the side window, and throwing that open, she saw nothing + but water. Then she remembered hearing her husband once say that there was + no danger in the tide, for that fell regularly, and people could calculate + on it, and that he would rather live near the bay than the river, whose + banks might overflow at any time. But was it the tide? So she ran again to + the back door, and threw out a stick of wood. It drifted away toward the + bay. She scooped up some of the water and put it eagerly to her lips. It + was fresh and sweet. It was the river, and not the tide! + </p> + <p> + It was then—O God be praised for his goodness! she did neither faint + nor fall; it was then—blessed be the Saviour, for it was his + merciful hand that touched and strengthened her in this awful moment—that + fear dropped from her like a garment, and her trembling ceased. It was + then and thereafter that she never lost her self-command, through all the + trials of that gloomy night. + </p> + <p> + She drew the bedstead toward the middle of the room, and placed a table + upon it and on that she put the cradle. The water on the floor was already + over her ankles, and the house once or twice moved so perceptibly, and + seemed to be racked so, that the closet doors all flew open. Then she + heard the same rasping and thumping against the wall, and, looking out, + saw that a large uprooted tree, which had lain near the road at the upper + end of the pasture, had floated down to the house. Luckily its long roots + dragged in the soil and kept it from moving as rapidly as the current, for + had it struck the house in its full career, even the strong nails and + bolts in the piles could not have withstood the shock. The hound had + leaped upon its knotty surface, and crouched near the roots shivering and + whining. A ray of hope flashed across her mind. She drew a heavy blanket + from the bed, and, wrapping it about the babe, waded in the deepening + waters to the door. As the tree swung again, broadside on, making the + little cabin creak and tremble, she leaped on to its trunk. By God's mercy + she succeeded in obtaining a footing on its slippery surface, and, twining + an arm about its roots, she held in the other her moaning child. Then + something cracked near the front porch, and the whole front of the house + she had just quitted fell forward—just as cattle fall on their knees + before they lie down—and at the same moment the great redwood tree + swung round and drifted away with its living cargo into the black night. + </p> + <p> + For all the excitement and danger, for all her soothing of her crying + babe, for all the whistling of the wind, for all the uncertainty of her + situation, she still turned to look at the deserted and water-swept cabin. + She remembered even then, and she wonders how foolish she was to think of + it at that time, that she wished she had put on another dress and the + baby's best clothes; and she kept praying that the house would be spared + so that he, when he returned, would have something to come to, and it + wouldn't be quite so desolate, and—how could he ever know what had + become of her and baby? And at the thought she grew sick and faint. But + she had something else to do besides worrying, for whenever the long roots + of her ark struck an obstacle, the whole trunk made half a revolution, and + twice dipped her in the black water. The hound, who kept distracting her + by running up and down the tree and howling, at last fell off at one of + these collisions. He swam for some time beside her, and she tried to get + the poor beast up on the tree, but he “acted silly” and wild, and at last + she lost sight of him forever. Then she and her baby were left alone. The + light which had burned for a few minutes in the deserted cabin was + quenched suddenly. She could not then tell whither she was drifting. The + outline of the white dunes on the peninsula showed dimly ahead, and she + judged the tree was moving in a line with the river. It must be about + slack water, and she had probably reached the eddy formed by the + confluence of the tide and the overflowing waters of the river. Unless the + tide fell soon, there was present danger of her drifting to its channel, + and being carried out to sea or crushed in the floating drift. That peril + averted, if she were carried out on the ebb toward the bay, she might hope + to strike one of the wooded promontories of the peninsula, and rest till + daylight. Sometimes she thought she heard voices and shouts from the + river, and the bellowing of cattle and bleating of sheep. Then again it + was only the ringing in her ears and throbbing of her heart. She found at + about this time that she was so chilled and stiffened in her cramped + position that she could scarcely move, and the baby cried so when she put + it to her breast that she noticed the milk refused to flow; and she was so + frightened at that, that she put her head under her shawl, and for the + first time cried bitterly. + </p> + <p> + When she raised her head again, the boom of the surf was behind her, and + she knew that her ark had again swung round. She dipped up the water to + cool her parched throat, and found that it was salt as her tears. There + was a relief, though, for by this sign she knew that she was drifting with + the tide. It was then the wind went down, and the great and awful silence + oppressed her. There was scarcely a ripple against the furrowed sides of + the great trunk on which she rested, and around her all was black gloom + and quiet. She spoke to the baby just to hear herself speak, and to know + that she had not lost her voice. She thought then—it was queer, but + she could not help thinking it—how awful must have been the night + when the great ship swung over the Asiatic peak, and the sounds of + creation were blotted out from the world. She thought, too, of mariners + clinging to spars, and of poor women who were lashed to rafts, and beaten + to death by the cruel sea. She tried to thank God that she was thus + spared, and lifted her eyes from the baby, who had fallen into a fretful + sleep. Suddenly, away to the southward, a great light lifted itself out of + the gloom, and flashed and flickered, and flickered and flashed again. Her + heart fluttered quickly against the baby's cold cheek. It was the + lighthouse at the entrance of the bay. As she was yet wondering, the tree + suddenly rolled a little, dragged a little, and then seemed to lie quiet + and still. She put out her hand and the current gurgled against it. The + tree was aground, and, by the position of the light and the noise of the + surf, aground upon the Dedlow Marsh. + </p> + <p> + Had it not been for her baby, who was ailing and croupy, had it not been + for the sudden drying up of that sensitive fountain, she would have felt + safe and relieved. Perhaps it was this which tended to make all her + impressions mournful and gloomy. As the tide rapidly fell, a great flock + of black brent fluttered by her, screaming and crying. Then the plover + flew up and piped mournfully as they wheeled around the trunk, and at last + fearlessly lit upon it like a gray cloud. Then the heron flew over and + around her, shrieking and protesting, and at last dropped its gaunt legs + only a few yards from her. But, strangest of all, a pretty white bird, + larger than a dove—like a pelican, but not a pelican—circled + around and around her. At last it lit upon a rootlet of the tree, quite + over her shoulder. She put out her hand and stroked its beautiful white + neck, and it never appeared to move. It stayed there so long that she + thought she would lift up the baby to see it, and try to attract her + attention. But when she did so, the child was so chilled and cold, and had + such a blue look under the little lashes which it didn't raise at all, + that she screamed aloud, and the bird flew away, and she fainted. + </p> + <p> + Well, that was the worst of it, and perhaps it was not so much, after all, + to any but herself. For when she recovered her senses it was bright + sunlight, and dead low water. There was a confused noise of guttural + voices about her, and an old squaw, singing an Indian “hushaby,” and + rocking herself from side to side before a fire built on the marsh, before + which she, the recovered wife and mother, lay weak and weary. Her first + thought was for her baby, and she was about to speak, when a young squaw, + who must have been a mother herself, fathomed her thought and brought her + the “mowitch,” pale but living, in such a queer little willow cradle all + bound up, just like the squaw's own young one, that she laughed and cried + together, and the young squaw and the old squaw showed their big white + teeth and glinted their black eyes and said, “Plenty get well, skeena + mowitch,” “wagee man come plenty soon,” and she could have kissed their + brown faces in her joy. And then she found that they had been gathering + berries on the marsh in their queer, comical baskets, and saw the skirt of + her gown fluttering on the tree from afar, and the old squaw couldn't + resist the temptation of procuring a new garment, and came down and + discovered the “wagee” woman and child. And of course she gave the garment + to the old squaw, as you may imagine, and when HE came at last and rushed + up to her, looking about ten years older in his anxiety, she felt so faint + again that they had to carry her to the canoe. For, you see, he knew + nothing about the flood until he met the Indians at Utopia, and knew by + the signs that the poor woman was his wife. And at the next high tide he + towed the tree away back home, although it wasn't worth the trouble, and + built another house, using the old tree for the foundation and props, and + called it after her, “Mary's Ark!” But you may guess the next house was + built above high-water mark. And that's all. + </p> + <p> + Not much, perhaps, considering the malevolent capacity of the Dedlow + Marsh. But you must tramp over it at low water, or paddle over it at high + tide, or get lost upon it once or twice in the fog, as I have, to + understand properly Mary's adventure, or to appreciate duly the blessings + of living beyond High-Water Mark. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A LONELY RIDE + </h2> + <p> + As I stepped into the Slumgullion stage I saw that it was a dark night, a + lonely road, and that I was the only passenger. Let me assure the reader + that I have no ulterior design in making this assertion. A long course of + light reading has forewarned me what every experienced intelligence must + confidently look for from such a statement. The storyteller who willfully + tempts Fate by such obvious beginnings; who is to the expectant reader in + danger of being robbed or half-murdered, or frightened by an escaped + lunatic, or introduced to his ladylove for the first time, deserves to be + detected. I am relieved to say that none of these things occurred to me. + The road from Wingdam to Slumgullion knew no other banditti than the + regularly licensed hotelkeepers; lunatics had not yet reached such depth + of imbecility as to ride of their own free will in California stages; and + my Laura, amiable and long-suffering as she always is, could not, I fear, + have borne up against these depressing circumstances long enough to have + made the slightest impression on me. + </p> + <p> + I stood with my shawl and carpetbag in hand, gazing doubtingly on the + vehicle. Even in the darkness the red dust of Wingdam was visible on its + roof and sides, and the red slime of Slumgullion clung tenaciously to its + wheels. I opened the door; the stage creaked easily, and in the gloomy + abyss the swaying straps beckoned me, like ghostly hands, to come in now + and have my sufferings out at once. + </p> + <p> + I must not omit to mention the occurrence of a circumstance which struck + me as appalling and mysterious. A lounger on the steps of the hotel, who I + had reason to suppose was not in any way connected with the stage company, + gravely descended, and walking toward the conveyance, tried the handle of + the door, opened it, expectorated in the carriage, and returned to the + hotel with a serious demeanor. Hardly had he resumed his position when + another individual, equally disinterested, impassively walked down the + steps, proceeded to the back of the stage, lifted it, expectorated + carefully on the axle, and returned slowly and pensively to the hotel. A + third spectator wearily disengaged himself from one of the Ionic columns + of the portico and walked to the box, remained for a moment in serious and + expectorative contemplation of the boot, and then returned to his column. + There was something so weird in this baptism that I grew quite nervous. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps I was out of spirits. A number of infinitesimal annoyances, + winding up with the resolute persistency of the clerk at the stage office + to enter my name misspelt on the waybill, had not predisposed me to + cheerfulness. The inmates of the Eureka House, from a social viewpoint, + were not attractive. There was the prevailing opinion—so common to + many honest people—that a serious style of deportment and conduct + toward a stranger indicates high gentility and elevated station. Obeying + this principle, all hilarity ceased on my entrance to supper, and general + remark merged into the safer and uncompromising chronicle of several bad + cases of diphtheria, then epidemic at Wingdam. When I left the + dining-room, with an odd feeling that I had been supping exclusively on + mustard and tea leaves, I stopped a moment at the parlor door. A piano, + harmoniously related to the dinner bell, tinkled responsive to a diffident + and uncertain touch. On the white wall the shadow of an old and sharp + profile was bending over several symmetrical and shadowy curls. “I sez to + Mariar, Mariar, sez I, 'Praise to the face is open disgrace.'” I heard no + more. Dreading some susceptibility to sincere expression on the subject of + female loveliness, I walked away, checking the compliment that otherwise + might have risen unbidden to my lips, and have brought shame and sorrow to + the household. + </p> + <p> + It was with the memory of these experiences resting heavily upon me that I + stood hesitatingly before the stage door. The driver, about to mount, was + for a moment illuminated by the open door of the hotel. He had the wearied + look which was the distinguishing expression of Wingdam. Satisfied that I + was properly waybilled and receipted for, he took no further notice of me. + I looked longingly at the box seat, but he did not respond to the appeal. + I flung my carpetbag into the chasm, dived recklessly after it, and—before + I was fairly seated—with a great sigh, a creaking of unwilling + springs, complaining bolts, and harshly expostulating axle, we moved away. + Rather the hotel door slipped behind, the sound of the piano sank to rest, + and the night and its shadows moved solemnly upon us. + </p> + <p> + To say it was dark expressed but faintly the pitchy obscurity that + encompassed the vehicle. The roadside trees were scarcely distinguishable + as deeper masses of shadow; I knew them only by the peculiar sodden odor + that from time to time sluggishly flowed in at the open window as we + rolled by. We proceeded slowly; so leisurely that, leaning from the + carriage, I more than once detected the fragrant sigh of some astonished + cow, whose ruminating repose upon the highway we had ruthlessly disturbed. + But in the darkness our progress, more the guidance of some mysterious + instinct than any apparent volition of our own, gave an indefinable charm + of security to our journey that a moment's hesitation or indecision on the + part of the driver would have destroyed. + </p> + <p> + I had indulged a hope that in the empty vehicle I might obtain that rest + so often denied me in its crowded condition. It was a weak delusion. When + I stretched out my limbs it was only to find that the ordinary + conveniences for making several people distinctly uncomfortable were + distributed throughout my individual frame. At last, resting my arms on + the straps, by dint of much gymnastic effort I became sufficiently + composed to be aware of a more refined species of torture. The springs of + the stage, rising and falling regularly, produced a rhythmical beat which + began to absorb my attention painfully. Slowly this thumping merged into a + senseless echo of the mysterious female of the hotel parlor, and shaped + itself into this awful and benumbing axiom—“Praise-to-the-face-is-open-disgrace. + Praise-to-the-face-is-open-disgrace.” Inequalities of the road only + quickened its utterance or drawled it to an exasperating length. + </p> + <p> + It was of no use to consider the statement seriously. It was of no use to + except to it indignantly. It was of no use to recall the many instances + where praise to the face had redounded to the everlasting honor of praiser + and bepraised; of no use to dwell sentimentally on modest genius and + courage lifted up and strengthened by open commendation; of no use to + except to the mysterious female, to picture her as rearing a thin-blooded + generation on selfish and mechanically repeated axioms—all this + failed to counteract the monotonous repetition of this sentence. There was + nothing to do but to give in—and I was about to accept it weakly, as + we too often treat other illusions of darkness and necessity, for the time + being, when I became aware of some other annoyance that had been forcing + itself upon me for the last few moments. How quiet the driver was! + </p> + <p> + Was there any driver? Had I any reason to suppose that he was not lying + gagged and bound on the roadside, and the highwayman with blackened face + who did the thing so quietly driving me—whither? The thing is + perfectly feasible. And what is this fancy now being jolted out of me? A + story? It's of no use to keep it back—particularly in this abysmal + vehicle, and here it comes: I am a Marquis—a French Marquis; French, + because the peerage is not so well known, and the country is better + adapted to romantic incident—a Marquis, because the democratic + reader delights in the nobility. My name is something LIGNY. I am coming + from Paris to my country seat at St. Germain. It is a dark night, and I + fall asleep and tell my honest coachman, Andre, not to disturb me, and + dream of an angel. The carriage at last stops at the chateau. It is so + dark that when I alight I do not recognize the face of the footman who + holds the carriage door. But what of that?—PESTE! I am heavy with + sleep. The same obscurity also hides the old familiar indecencies of the + statues on the terrace; but there is a door, and it opens and shuts behind + me smartly. Then I find myself in a trap, in the presence of the brigand + who has quietly gagged poor Andre and conducted the carriage thither. + There is nothing for me to do, as a gallant French Marquis, but to say, + “PARBLEU!” draw my rapier, and die valorously! I am found a week or two + after outside a deserted cabaret near the barrier, with a hole through my + ruffled linen and my pockets stripped. No; on second thoughts, I am + rescued—rescued by the angel I have been dreaming of, who is the + assumed daughter of the brigand but the real daughter of an intimate + friend. + </p> + <p> + Looking from the window again, in the vain hope of distinguishing the + driver, I found my eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness. I could + see the distant horizon, defined by India-inky woods, relieving a lighter + sky. A few stars widely spaced in this picture glimmered sadly. I noticed + again the infinite depth of patient sorrow in their serene faces; and I + hope that the vandal who first applied the flippant “twinkle” to them may + not be driven melancholy-mad by their reproachful eyes. I noticed again + the mystic charm of space that imparts a sense of individual solitude to + each integer of the densest constellation, involving the smallest star + with immeasurable loneliness. Something of this calm and solitude crept + over me, and I dozed in my gloomy cavern. When I awoke the full moon was + rising. Seen from my window, it had an indescribably unreal and theatrical + effect. It was the full moon of NORMA—that remarkable celestial + phenomenon which rises so palpably to a hushed audience and a sublime + andante chorus, until the CASTA DIVA is sung—the “inconstant moon” + that then and thereafter remains fixed in the heavens as though it were a + part of the solar system inaugurated by Joshua. Again the white-robed + Druids filed past me, again I saw that improbable mistletoe cut from that + impossible oak, and again cold chills ran down my back with the first + strain of the recitative. The thumping springs essayed to beat time, and + the private-box-like obscurity of the vehicle lent a cheap enchantment to + the view. But it was a vast improvement upon my past experience, and I + hugged the fond delusion. + </p> + <p> + My fears for the driver were dissipated with the rising moon. A familiar + sound had assured me of his presence in the full possession of at least + one of his most important functions. Frequent and full expectoration + convinced me that his lips were as yet not sealed by the gag of + highwaymen, and soothed my anxious ear. With this load lifted from my + mind, and assisted by the mild presence of Diana, who left, as when she + visited Endymion, much of her splendor outside my cavern—I looked + around the empty vehicle. On the forward seat lay a woman's hairpin. I + picked it up with an interest that, however, soon abated. There was no + scent of the roses to cling to it still, not even of hair oil. No bend or + twist in its rigid angles betrayed any trait of its wearer's character. I + tried to think that it might have been “Mariar's.” I tried to imagine + that, confining the symmetrical curls of that girl, it might have heard + the soft compliments whispered in her ears which provoked the wrath of the + aged female. But in vain. It was reticent and unswerving in its upright + fidelity, and at last slipped listlessly through my fingers. + </p> + <p> + I had dozed repeatedly—waked on the threshold of oblivion by contact + with some of the angles of the coach, and feeling that I was unconsciously + assuming, in imitation of a humble insect of my childish recollection, + that spherical shape which could best resist those impressions, when I + perceived that the moon, riding high in the heavens, had begun to separate + the formless masses of the shadowy landscape. Trees isolated, in clumps + and assemblages, changed places before my window. The sharp outlines of + the distant hills came back, as in daylight, but little softened in the + dry, cold, dewless air of a California summer night. I was wondering how + late it was, and thinking that if the horses of the night traveled as + slowly as the team before us, Faustus might have been spared his agonizing + prayer, when a sudden spasm of activity attacked my driver. A succession + of whip-snappings, like a pack of Chinese crackers, broke from the box + before me. The stage leaped forward, and when I could pick myself from + under the seat, a long white building had in some mysterious way rolled + before my window. It must be Slumgullion! As I descended from the stage I + addressed the driver: + </p> + <p> + “I thought you changed horses on the road?” + </p> + <p> + “So we did. Two hours ago.” + </p> + <p> + “That's odd. I didn't notice it.” + </p> + <p> + “Must have been asleep, sir. Hope you had a pleasant nap. Bully place for + a nice quiet snooze—empty stage, sir!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAN OF NO ACCOUNT + </h2> + <p> + His name was Fagg—David Fagg. He came to California in '52 with us, + in the SKYSCRAPER. I don't think he did it in an adventurous way. He + probably had no other place to go to. When a knot of us young fellows + would recite what splendid opportunities we resigned to go, and how sorry + our friends were to have us leave, and show daguerreotypes and locks of + hair, and talk of Mary and Susan, the man of no account used to sit by and + listen with a pained, mortified expression on his plain face, and say + nothing. I think he had nothing to say. He had no associates except when + we patronized him; and, in point of fact, he was a good deal of sport to + us. He was always seasick whenever we had a capful of wind. He never got + his sea legs on, either. And I never shall forget how we all laughed when + Rattler took him the piece of pork on a string, and—But you know + that time-honored joke. And then we had such a splendid lark with him. + Miss Fanny Twinkler couldn't bear the sight of him, and we used to make + Fagg think that she had taken a fancy to him, and send him little + delicacies and books from the cabin. You ought to have witnessed the rich + scene that took place when he came up, stammering and very sick, to thank + her! Didn't she flash up grandly and beautifully and scornfully? So like + “Medora,” Rattler said—Rattler knew Byron by heart—and wasn't + old Fagg awfully cut up? But he got over it, and when Rattler fell sick at + Valparaiso, old Fagg used to nurse him. You see he was a good sort of + fellow, but he lacked manliness and spirit. + </p> + <p> + He had absolutely no idea of poetry. I've seen him sit stolidly by, + mending his old clothes, when Rattler delivered that stirring apostrophe + of Byron's to the ocean. He asked Rattler once, quite seriously, if he + thought Byron was ever seasick. I don't remember Rattler's reply, but I + know we all laughed very much, and I have no doubt it was something good + for Rattler was smart. + </p> + <p> + When the SKYSCRAPER arrived at San Francisco we had a grand “feed.” We + agreed to meet every year and perpetuate the occasion. Of course we didn't + invite Fagg. Fagg was a steerage passenger, and it was necessary, you see, + now we were ashore, to exercise a little discretion. But Old Fagg, as we + called him—he was only about twenty-five years old, by the way—was + the source of immense amusement to us that day. It appeared that he had + conceived the idea that he could walk to Sacramento, and actually started + off afoot. We had a good time, and shook hands with one another all + around, and so parted. Ah me! only eight years ago, and yet some of those + hands then clasped in amity have been clenched at each other, or have + dipped furtively in one another's pockets. I know that we didn't dine + together the next year, because young Barker swore he wouldn't put his + feet under the same mahogany with such a very contemptible scoundrel as + that Mixer; and Nibbles, who borrowed money at Valparaiso of young Stubbs, + who was then a waiter in a restaurant, didn't like to meet such people. + </p> + <p> + When I bought a number of shares in the Coyote Tunnel at Mugginsville, in + '54, I thought I'd take a run up there and see it. I stopped at the Empire + Hotel, and after dinner I got a horse and rode round the town and out to + the claim. One of those individuals whom newspaper correspondents call + “our intelligent informant,” and to whom in all small communities the + right of answering questions is tacitly yielded, was quietly pointed out + to me. Habit had enabled him to work and talk at the same time, and he + never pretermitted either. He gave me a history of the claim, and added: + “You see, stranger,” (he addressed the bank before him) “gold is sure to + come out'er that theer claim, (he put in a comma with his pick) but the + old pro-pri-e-tor (he wriggled out the word and the point of his pick) + warn't of much account (a long stroke of the pick for a period). He was + green, and let the boys about here jump him”—and the rest of his + sentence was confided to his hat, which he had removed to wipe his manly + brow with his red bandanna. + </p> + <p> + I asked him who was the original proprietor. + </p> + <p> + “His name war Fagg.” + </p> + <p> + I went to see him. He looked a little older and plainer. He had worked + hard, he said, and was getting on “so-so.” I took quite a liking to him + and patronized him to some extent. Whether I did so because I was + beginning to have a distrust for such fellows as Rattler and Mixer is not + necessary for me to state. + </p> + <p> + You remember how the Coyote Tunnel went in, and how awfully we + shareholders were done! Well, the next thing I heard was that Rattler, who + was one of the heaviest shareholders, was up at Mugginsville keeping bar + for the proprietor of the Mugginsville Hotel, and that old Fagg had struck + it rich, and didn't know what to do with his money. All this was told me + by Mixer, who had been there, settling up matters, and likewise that Fagg + was sweet upon the daughter of the proprietor of the aforesaid hotel. And + so by hearsay and letter I eventually gathered that old Robins, the hotel + man, was trying to get up a match between Nellie Robins and Fagg. Nellie + was a pretty, plump, and foolish little thing, and would do just as her + father wished. I thought it would be a good thing for Fagg if he should + marry and settle down; that as a married man he might be of some account. + So I ran up to Mugginsville one day to look after things. + </p> + <p> + It did me an immense deal of good to make Rattler mix my drinks for me—Rattler! + the gay, brilliant, and unconquerable Rattler, who had tried to snub me + two years ago. I talked to him about old Fagg and Nellie, particularly as + I thought the subject was distasteful. He never liked Fagg, and he was + sure, he said, that Nellie didn't. Did Nellie like anybody else? He turned + around to the mirror behind the bar and brushed up his hair! I understood + the conceited wretch. I thought I'd put Fagg on his guard and get him to + hurry up matters. I had a long talk with him. You could see by the way the + poor fellow acted that he was badly stuck. He sighed, and promised to + pluck up courage to hurry matters to a crisis. Nellie was a good girl, and + I think had a sort of quiet respect for old Fagg's unobtrusiveness. But + her fancy was already taken captive by Rattler's superficial qualities, + which were obvious and pleasing. I don't think Nellie was any worse than + you or I. We are more apt to take acquaintances at their apparent value + than their intrinsic worth. It's less trouble, and, except when we want to + trust them, quite as convenient. The difficulty with women is that their + feelings are apt to get interested sooner than ours, and then, you know, + reasoning is out of the question. This is what old Fagg would have known + had he been of any account. But he wasn't. So much the worse for him. + </p> + <p> + It was a few months afterward and I was sitting in my office when in + walked old Fagg. I was surprised to see him down, but we talked over the + current topics in that mechanical manner of people who know that they have + something else to say, but are obliged to get at it in that formal way. + After an interval Fagg in his natural manner said: + </p> + <p> + “I'm going home!” + </p> + <p> + “Going home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—that is, I think I'll take a trip to the Atlantic States. I + came to see you, as you know I have some little property, and I have + executed a power of attorney for you to manage my affairs. I have some + papers I'd like to leave with you. Will you take charge of them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “But what of Nellie?” + </p> + <p> + His face fell. He tried to smile, and the combination resulted in one of + the most startling and grotesque effects I ever beheld. At length he said: + </p> + <p> + “I shall not marry Nellie—that is”—he seemed to apologize + internally for the positive form of expression—“I think that I had + better not.” + </p> + <p> + “David Fagg,” I said with sudden severity, “you're of no account!” + </p> + <p> + To my astonishment his face brightened. “Yes,” said he, “that's it!—I'm + of no account! But I always knew it. You see I thought Rattler loved that + girl as well as I did, and I knew she liked him better than she did me, + and would be happier I dare say with him. But then I knew that old Robins + would have preferred me to him, as I was better off—and the girl + would do as he said—and, you see, I thought I was kinder in the way—and + so I left. But,” he continued, as I was about to interrupt him, “for fear + the old man might object to Rattler, I've lent him enough to set him up in + business for himself in Dogtown. A pushing, active, brilliant fellow, you + know, like Rattler can get along, and will soon be in his old position + again—and you needn't be hard on him, you know, if he doesn't. + Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + I was too much disgusted with his treatment of that Rattler to be at all + amiable, but as his business was profitable, I promised to attend to it, + and he left. A few weeks passed. The return steamer arrived, and a + terrible incident occupied the papers for days afterward. People in all + parts of the State conned eagerly the details of an awful shipwreck, and + those who had friends aboard went away by themselves, and read the long + list of the lost under their breath. I read of the gifted, the gallant, + the noble, and loved ones who had perished, and among them I think I was + the first to read the name of David Fagg. For the “man of no account” had + “gone home!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MLISS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + Just where the Sierra Nevada begins to subside in gentler undulations, and + the rivers grow less rapid and yellow, on the side of a great red + mountain, stands “Smith's Pocket.” Seen from the red road at sunset, in + the red light and the red dust, its white houses look like the + outcroppings of quartz on the mountainside. The red stage topped with + red-shirted passengers is lost to view half a dozen times in the tortuous + descent, turning up unexpectedly in out-of-the-way places, and vanishing + altogether within a hundred yards of the town. It is probably owing to + this sudden twist in the road that the advent of a stranger at Smith's + Pocket is usually attended with a peculiar circumstance. Dismounting from + the vehicle at the stage office, the too-confident traveler is apt to walk + straight out of town under the impression that it lies in quite another + direction. It is related that one of the tunnel men, two miles from town, + met one of these self-reliant passengers with a carpetbag, umbrella, + Harper's Magazine, and other evidences of “Civilization and Refinement,” + plodding along over the road he had just ridden, vainly endeavoring to + find the settlement of Smith's Pocket. + </p> + <p> + An observant traveler might have found some compensation for his + disappointment in the weird aspect of that vicinity. There were huge + fissures on the hillside, and displacements of the red soil, resembling + more the chaos of some primary elemental upheaval than the work of man; + while halfway down, a long flume straddled its narrow body and + disproportionate legs over the chasm, like an enormous fossil of some + forgotten antediluvian. At every step smaller ditches crossed the road, + hiding in their sallow depths unlovely streams that crept away to a + clandestine union with the great yellow torrent below, and here and there + were the ruins of some cabin with the chimney alone left intact and the + hearthstone open to the skies. + </p> + <p> + The settlement of Smith's Pocket owed its origin to the finding of a + “pocket” on its site by a veritable Smith. Five thousand dollars were + taken out of it in one half-hour by Smith. Three thousand dollars were + expended by Smith and others in erecting a flume and in tunneling. And + then Smith's Pocket was found to be only a pocket, and subject like other + pockets to depletion. Although Smith pierced the bowels of the great red + mountain, that five thousand dollars was the first and last return of his + labor. The mountain grew reticent of its golden secrets, and the flume + steadily ebbed away the remainder of Smith's fortune. Then Smith went into + quartz-mining; then into quartz-milling; then into hydraulics and + ditching, and then by easy degrees into saloonkeeping. Presently it was + whispered that Smith was drinking a great deal; then it was known that + Smith was a habitual drunkard, and then people began to think, as they are + apt to, that he had never been anything else. But the settlement of + Smith's Pocket, like that of most discoveries, was happily not dependent + on the fortune of its pioneer, and other parties projected tunnels and + found pockets. So Smith's Pocket became a settlement, with its two fancy + stores, its two hotels, its one express office, and its two first + families. Occasionally its one long straggling street was overawed by the + assumption of the latest San Francisco fashions, imported per express, + exclusively to the first families; making outraged Nature, in the ragged + outline of her furrowed surface, look still more homely, and putting + personal insult on that greater portion of the population to whom the + Sabbath, with a change of linen, brought merely the necessity of + cleanliness without the luxury of adornment. Then there was a Methodist + Church, and hard by a Monte Bank, and a little beyond, on the + mountainside, a graveyard; and then a little schoolhouse. + </p> + <p> + “The Master,” as he was known to his little flock, sat alone one night in + the schoolhouse, with some open copybooks before him, carefully making + those bold and full characters which are supposed to combine the extremes + of chirographical and moral excellence, and had got as far as “Riches are + deceitful,” and was elaborating the noun with an insincerity of flourish + that was quite in the spirit of his text, when he heard a gentle tapping. + The woodpeckers had been busy about the roof during the day, and the noise + did not disturb his work. But the opening of the door, and the tapping + continuing from the inside, caused him to look up. He was slightly + startled by the figure of a young girl, dirty and shabbily clad. Still, + her great black eyes, her coarse, uncombed, lusterless black hair falling + over her sunburned face, her red arms and feet streaked with the red soil, + were all familiar to him. It was Melissa Smith—Smith's motherless + child. + </p> + <p> + “What can she want here?” thought the master. Everybody knew “Mliss,” as + she was called, throughout the length and height of Red Mountain. + Everybody knew her as an incorrigible girl. Her fierce, ungovernable + disposition, her mad freaks and lawless character, were in their way as + proverbial as the story of her father's weaknesses, and as philosophically + accepted by the townsfolk. She wrangled with and fought the schoolboys + with keener invective and quite as powerful arm. She followed the trails + with a woodman's craft, and the master had met her before, miles away, + shoeless, stockingless, and bareheaded on the mountain road. The miners' + camps along the stream supplied her with subsistence during these + voluntary pilgrimages, in freely offered alms. Not but that a larger + protection had been previously extended to Mliss. The Rev. Joshua + McSnagley, “stated” preacher, had placed her in the hotel as servant, by + way of preliminary refinement, and had introduced her to his scholars at + Sunday school. But she threw plates occasionally at the landlord, and + quickly retorted to the cheap witticisms of the guests, and created in the + Sabbath school a sensation that was so inimical to the orthodox dullness + and placidity of that institution that, with a decent regard for the + starched frocks and unblemished morals of the two pink-and-white-faced + children of the first families, the reverend gentleman had her + ignominiously expelled. Such were the antecedents, and such the character + of Mliss as she stood before the master. It was shown in the ragged dress, + the unkempt hair, and bleeding feet, and asked his pity. It flashed from + her black, fearless eyes, and commanded his respect. + </p> + <p> + “I come here tonight,” she said rapidly and boldly, keeping her hard + glance on his, “because I knew you was alone. I wouldn't come here when + them gals was here. I hate 'em and they hates me. That's why. You keep + school, don't you? I want to be teached!” + </p> + <p> + If to the shabbiness of her apparel and uncomeliness of her tangled hair + and dirty face she had added the humility of tears, the master would have + extended to her the usual moiety of pity, and nothing more. But with the + natural, though illogical, instincts of his species, her boldness awakened + in him something of that respect which all original natures pay + unconsciously to one another in any grade. And he gazed at her the more + fixedly as she went on still rapidly, her hand on that door latch and her + eyes on his: + </p> + <p> + “My name's Mliss—Mliss Smith! You can bet your life on that. My + father's Old Smith—Old Bummer Smith—that's what's the matter + with him. Mliss Smith—and I'm coming to school!” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said the master. + </p> + <p> + Accustomed to be thwarted and opposed, often wantonly and cruelly, for no + other purpose than to excite the violent impulses of her nature, the + master's phlegm evidently took her by surprise. She stopped; she began to + twist a lock of her hair between her fingers; and the rigid line of upper + lip, drawn over the wicked little teeth, relaxed and quivered slightly. + Then her eyes dropped, and something like a blush struggled up to her + cheek and tried to assert itself through the splashes of redder soil, and + the sunburn of years. Suddenly she threw herself forward, calling on God + to strike her dead, and fell quite weak and helpless, with her face on the + master's desk, crying and sobbing as if her heart would break. + </p> + <p> + The master lifted her gently and waited for the paroxysm to pass. When, + with face still averted, she was repeating between her sobs the MEA CULPA + of childish penitence—that “she'd be good, she didn't mean to,” + etc., it came to him to ask her why she had left Sabbath school. + </p> + <p> + Why had she left the Sabbath school?—why? Oh, yes. What did he + (McSnagley) want to tell her she was wicked for? What did he tell her that + God hated her for? If God hated her, what did she want to go to Sabbath + school for? SHE didn't want to be “beholden” to anybody who hated her. + </p> + <p> + Had she told McSnagley this? + </p> + <p> + Yes, she had. + </p> + <p> + The master laughed. It was a hearty laugh, and echoed so oddly in the + little schoolhouse, and seemed so inconsistent and discordant with the + sighing of the pines without, that he shortly corrected himself with a + sigh. The sigh was quite as sincere in its way, however, and after a + moment of serious silence he asked about her father. + </p> + <p> + Her father? What father? Whose father? What had he ever done for her? Why + did the girls hate her? Come now! what made the folks say, “Old Bummer + Smith's Mliss!” when she passed? Yes; oh yes. She wished he was dead—she + was dead—everybody was dead; and her sobs broke forth anew. + </p> + <p> + The master then, leaning over her, told her as well as he could what you + or I might have said after hearing such unnatural theories from childish + lips; only bearing in mind perhaps better than you or I the unnatural + facts of her ragged dress, her bleeding feet, and the omnipresent shadow + of her drunken father. Then, raising her to her feet, he wrapped his shawl + around her, and, bidding her come early in the morning, he walked with her + down the road. There he bade her “good night.” The moon shone brightly on + the narrow path before them. He stood and watched the bent little figure + as it staggered down the road, and waited until it had passed the little + graveyard and reached the curve of the hill, where it turned and stood for + a moment, a mere atom of suffering outlined against the far-off patient + stars. Then he went back to his work. But the lines of the copybook + thereafter faded into long parallels of never-ending road, over which + childish figures seemed to pass sobbing and crying into the night. Then, + the little schoolhouse seeming lonelier than before, he shut the door and + went home. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mliss came to school. Her face had been washed, and her + coarse black hair bore evidence of recent struggles with the comb, in + which both had evidently suffered. The old defiant look shone occasionally + in her eyes, but her manner was tamer and more subdued. Then began a + series of little trials and self-sacrifices, in which master and pupil + bore an equal part, and which increased the confidence and sympathy + between them. Although obedient under the master's eye, at times during + recess, if thwarted or stung by a fancied slight, Mliss would rage in + ungovernable fury, and many a palpitating young savage, finding himself + matched with his own weapons of torment, would seek the master with torn + jacket and scratched face and complaints of the dreadful Mliss. There was + a serious division among the townspeople on the subject, some threatening + to withdraw their children from such evil companionship, and others as + warmly upholding the course of the master in his work of reclamation. + Meanwhile, with a steady persistence that seemed quite astonishing to him + on looking back afterward, the master drew Mliss gradually out of the + shadow of her past life, as though it were but her natural progress down + the narrow path on which he had set her feet the moonlit night of their + first meeting. Remembering the experience of the evangelical McSnagley, he + carefully avoided that Rock of Ages on which that unskillful pilot had + shipwrecked her young faith. But if, in the course of her reading, she + chanced to stumble upon those few words which have lifted such as she + above the level of the older, the wiser, and the more prudent—if she + learned something of a faith that is symbolized by suffering, and the old + light softened in her eyes, it did not take the shape of a lesson. A few + of the plainer people had made up a little sum by which the ragged Mliss + was enabled to assume the garments of respect and civilization; and often + a rough shake of the hand, and words of homely commendation from a + red-shirted and burly figure, sent a glow to the cheek of the young + master, and set him to thinking if it was altogether deserved. + </p> + <p> + Three months had passed from the time of their first meeting, and the + master was sitting late one evening over the moral and sententious copies, + when there came a tap at the door and again Mliss stood before him. She + was neatly clad and clean-faced, and there was nothing perhaps but the + long black hair and bright black eyes to remind him of his former + apparition. “Are you busy?” she asked. “Can you come with me?”—and + on his signifying his readiness, in her old willful way she said, “Come, + then, quick!” + </p> + <p> + They passed out of the door together and into the dark road. As they + entered the town the master asked her whither she was going. She replied, + “To see my father.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time he had heard her call him by that filial title, or + indeed anything more than “Old Smith” or the “Old Man.” It was the first + time in three months that she had spoken of him at all, and the master + knew she had kept resolutely aloof from him since her great change. + Satisfied from her manner that it was fruitless to question her purpose, + he passively followed. In out-of-the-way places, low groggeries, + restaurants, and saloons; in gambling hells and dance houses, the master, + preceded by Mliss, came and went. In the reeking smoke and blasphemous + outcries of low dens, the child, holding the master's hand, stood and + anxiously gazed, seemingly unconscious of all in the one absorbing nature + of her pursuit. Some of the revelers, recognizing Mliss, called to the + child to sing and dance for them, and would have forced liquor upon her + but for the interference of the master. Others, recognizing him mutely, + made way for them to pass. So an hour slipped by. Then the child whispered + in his ear that there was a cabin on the other side of the creek crossed + by the long flume, where she thought he still might be. Thither they + crossed—a toilsome half-hour's walk—but in vain. They were + returning by the ditch at the abutment of the flume, gazing at the lights + of the town on the opposite bank, when, suddenly, sharply, a quick report + rang out on the clear night air. The echoes caught it, and carried it + round and round Red Mountain, and set the dogs to barking all along the + streams. Lights seemed to dance and move quickly on the outskirts of the + town for a few moments, the stream rippled quite audibly beside them, a + few stones loosened themselves from the hillside and splashed into the + stream, a heavy wind seemed to surge the branches of the funereal pines, + and then the silence seemed to fall thicker, heavier, and deadlier. The + master turned toward Mliss with an unconscious gesture of protection, but + the child had gone. Oppressed by a strange fear, he ran quickly down the + trail to the river's bed, and, jumping from boulder to boulder, reached + the base of Red Mountain and the outskirts of the village. Midway of the + crossing he looked up and held his breath in awe. For high above him on + the narrow flume he saw the fluttering little figure of his late companion + crossing swiftly in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + He climbed the bank, and, guided by a few lights moving about a central + point on the mountain, soon found himself breathless among a crowd of + awe-stricken and sorrowful men. Out from among them the child appeared, + and, taking the master's hand, led him silently before what seemed a + ragged hole in the mountain. Her face was quite white, but her excited + manner gone, and her look that of one to whom some long-expected event had + at last happened—an expression that to the master in his + bewilderment seemed almost like relief. The walls of the cavern were + partly propped by decaying timbers. The child pointed to what appeared to + be some ragged, castoff clothes left in the hole by the late occupant. The + master approached nearer with his flaming dip, and bent over them. It was + Smith, already cold, with a pistol in his hand and a bullet in his heart, + lying beside his empty pocket. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The opinion which McSnagley expressed in reference to a “change of heart” + supposed to be experienced by Mliss was more forcibly described in the + gulches and tunnels. It was thought there that Mliss had “struck a good + lead.” So when there was a new grave added to the little enclosure, and at + the expense of the master a little board and inscription put above it, the + RED MOUNTAIN BANNER came out quite handsomely, and did the fair thing to + the memory of one of “our oldest Pioneers,” alluding gracefully to that + “bane of noble intellects,” and otherwise genteelly shelving our dear + brother with the past. “He leaves an only child to mourn his loss,” says + the BANNER, “who is now an exemplary scholar, thanks to the efforts of the + Rev. Mr. McSnagley.” The Rev. McSnagley, in fact, made a strong point of + Mliss's conversion, and, indirectly attributing to the unfortunate child + the suicide of her father, made affecting allusions in Sunday school to + the beneficial effects of the “silent tomb,” and in this cheerful + contemplation drove most of the children into speechless horror, and + caused the pink-and-white scions of the first families to howl dismally + and refuse to be comforted. + </p> + <p> + The long dry summer came. As each fierce day burned itself out in little + whiffs of pearl-gray smoke on the mountain summits, and the upspringing + breeze scattered its red embers over the landscape, the green wave which + in early spring upheaved above Smith's grave grew sere and dry and hard. + In those days the master, strolling in the little churchyard of a Sabbath + afternoon, was sometimes surprised to find a few wild flowers plucked from + the damp pine forests scattered there, and oftener rude wreaths hung upon + the little pine cross. Most of these wreaths were formed of a + sweet-scented grass, which the children loved to keep in their desks, + intertwined with the plumes of the buckeye, the syringa, and the wood + anemone, and here and there the master noticed the dark-blue cowl of the + monkshood, or deadly aconite. There was something in the odd association + of this noxious plant with these memorials which occasioned a painful + sensation to the master deeper than his esthetic sense. One day, during a + long walk, in crossing a wooded ridge he came upon Mliss in the heart of + the forest, perched upon a prostrate pine on a fantastic throne formed by + the hanging plumes of lifeless branches, her lap full of grasses and pine + burrs, and crooning to herself one of the Negro melodies of her younger + life. Recognizing him at a distance, she made room for him on her elevated + throne, and with a grave assumption of hospitality and patronage that + would have been ridiculous had it not been so terribly earnest, she fed + him with pine nuts and crab apples. The master took that opportunity to + point out to her the noxious and deadly qualities of the monkshood, whose + dark blossoms he saw in her lap, and extorted from her a promise not to + meddle with it as long as she remained his pupil. This done—as the + master had tested her integrity before—he rested satisfied, and the + strange feeling which had overcome him on seeing them died away. + </p> + <p> + Of the homes that were offered Mliss when her conversion became known, the + master preferred that of Mrs. Morpher, a womanly and kindhearted specimen + of Southwestern efflorescence, known in her maidenhood as the “Per-rairie + Rose.” Being one of those who contend resolutely against their own + natures, Mrs. Morpher, by a long series of self-sacrifices and struggles, + had at last subjugated her naturally careless disposition to principles of + “order,” which she considered, in common with Mr. Pope, as “Heaven's first + law.” But she could not entirely govern the orbits of her satellites, + however regular her own movements, and even her own “Jeemes” sometimes + collided with her. Again her old nature asserted itself in her children. + Lycurgus dipped into the cupboard “between meals,” and Aristides came home + from school without shoes, leaving those important articles on the + threshold, for the delight of a barefooted walk down the ditches. Octavia + and Cassandra were “keerless” of their clothes. So with but one exception, + however much the “Prairie Rose” might have trimmed and pruned and trained + her own matured luxuriance, the little shoots came up defiantly wild and + straggling. That one exception was Clytemnestra Morpher, aged fifteen. She + was the realization of her mother's immaculate conception—neat, + orderly, and dull. + </p> + <p> + It was an amiable weakness of Mrs. Morpher to imagine that “Clytie” was a + consolation and model for Mliss. Following this fallacy, Mrs. Morpher + threw Clytie at the head of Mliss when she was “bad,” and set her up + before the child for adoration in her penitential moments. It was not, + therefore, surprising to the master to hear that Clytie was coming to + school, obviously as a favor to the master and as an example for Mliss and + others. For “Clytie” was quite a young lady. Inheriting her mother's + physical peculiarities, and in obedience to the climatic laws of the Red + Mountain region, she was an early bloomer. The youth of Smith's Pocket, to + whom this kind of flower was rare, sighed for her in April and languished + in May. Enamored swains haunted the schoolhouse at the hour of dismissal. + A few were jealous of the master. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was this latter circumstance that opened the master's eyes to + another. He could not help noticing that Clytie was romantic; that in + school she required a great deal of attention; that her pens were + uniformly bad and wanted fixing; that she usually accompanied the request + with a certain expectation in her eye that was somewhat disproportionate + to the quality of service she verbally required; that she sometimes + allowed the curves of a round, plump white arm to rest on his when he was + writing her copies; that she always blushed and flung back her blond curls + when she did so. I don't remember whether I have stated that the master + was a young man—it's of little consequence, however; he had been + severely educated in the school in which Clytie was taking her first + lesson, and, on the whole, withstood the flexible curves and factitious + glance like the fine young Spartan that he was. Perhaps an insufficient + quality of food may have tended to this asceticism. He generally avoided + Clytie; but one evening, when she returned to the schoolhouse after + something she had forgotten, and did not find it until the master walked + home with her, I hear that he endeavored to make himself particularly + agreeable—partly from the fact, I imagine, that his conduct was + adding gall and bitterness to the already overcharged hearts of + Clytemnestra's admirers. + </p> + <p> + The morning after this affecting episode Mliss did not come to school. + Noon came, but not Mliss. Questioning Clytie on the subject, it appeared + that they had left the school together, but the willful Mliss had taken + another road. The afternoon brought her not. In the evening he called on + Mrs. Morpher, whose motherly heart was really alarmed. Mr. Morpher had + spent all day in search of her, without discovering a trace that might + lead to her discovery. Aristides was summoned as a probable accomplice, + but that equitable infant succeeded in impressing the household with his + innocence. Mrs. Morpher entertained a vivid impression that the child + would yet be found drowned in a ditch, or, what was almost as terrible, + muddied and soiled beyond the redemption of soap and water. Sick at heart, + the master returned to the schoolhouse. As he lit his lamp and seated + himself at his desk, he found a note lying before him addressed to + himself, in Mliss's handwriting. It seemed to be written on a leaf torn + from some old memorandum book, and, to prevent sacrilegious trifling, had + been sealed with six broken wafers. Opening it almost tenderly, the master + read as follows: + </p> + <p> + RESPECTED SIR—When you read this, I am run away. Never to come back. + NEVER, NEVER, NEVER. You can give my beeds to Mary Jennings, and my + Amerika's Pride [a highly colored lithograph from a tobacco-box] to Sally + Flanders. But don't you give anything to Clytie Morpher. Don't you dare + to. Do you know what my opinion is of her, it is this, she is perfekly + disgustin. That is all and no more at present from + </p> + <p> + Yours respectfully, + </p> + <p> + MELISSA SMITH. + </p> + <p> + The master sat pondering on this strange epistle till the moon lifted its + bright face above the distant hills, and illuminated the trail that led to + the schoolhouse, beaten quite hard with the coming and going of little + feet. Then, more satisfied in mind, he tore the missive into fragments and + scattered them along the road. + </p> + <p> + At sunrise the next morning he was picking his way through the palmlike + fern and thick underbrush of the pine forest, starting the hare from its + form, and awakening a querulous protest from a few dissipated crows, who + had evidently been making a night of it, and so came to the wooded ridge + where he had once found Mliss. There he found the prostrate pine and + tasseled branches, but the throne was vacant. As he drew nearer, what + might have been some frightened animal started through the crackling + limbs. It ran up the tossed arms of the fallen monarch and sheltered + itself in some friendly foliage. The master, reaching the old seat, found + the nest still warm; looking up in the intertwining branches, he met the + black eyes of the errant Mliss. They gazed at each other without speaking. + She was first to break the silence. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she asked curtly. + </p> + <p> + The master had decided on a course of action. “I want some crab apples,” + he said humbly. + </p> + <p> + “Sha'n't have 'em! go away. Why don't you get 'em of Clytemnerestera?” (It + seemed to be a relief to Mliss to express her contempt in additional + syllables to that classical young woman's already long-drawn title.) “O + you wicked thing!” + </p> + <p> + “I am hungry, Lissy. I have eaten nothing since dinner yesterday. I am + famished!” and the young man in a state of remarkable exhaustion leaned + against the tree. + </p> + <p> + Melissa's heart was touched. In the bitter days of her gypsy life she had + known the sensation he so artfully simulated. Overcome by his heartbroken + tone, but not entirely divested of suspicion, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Dig under the tree near the roots, and you'll find lots; but mind you + don't tell,” for Mliss had HER hoards as well as the rats and squirrels. + </p> + <p> + But the master, of course, was unable to find them; the effects of hunger + probably blinding his senses. Mliss grew uneasy. At length she peered at + him through the leaves in an elfish way, and questioned: + </p> + <p> + “If I come down and give you some, you'll promise you won't touch me?” + </p> + <p> + The master promised. + </p> + <p> + “Hope you'll die if you do!” + </p> + <p> + The master accepted instant dissolution as a forfeit. Mliss slid down the + tree. For a few moments nothing transpired but the munching of the pine + nuts. “Do you feel better?” she asked, with some solicitude. The master + confessed to a recuperated feeling, and then, gravely thanking her, + proceeded to retrace his steps. As he expected, he had not gone far before + she called him. He turned. She was standing there quite white, with tears + in her widely opened orbs. The master felt that the right moment had come. + Going up to her, he took both her hands, and looking in her tearful eyes, + said, gravely, “Lissy, do you remember the first evening you came to see + me?” + </p> + <p> + Lissy remembered. + </p> + <p> + “You asked me if you might come to school, for you wanted to learn + something and be better, and I said—” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” responded the child, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “What would YOU say if the master now came to you and said that he was + lonely without his little scholar, and that he wanted her to come and + teach him to be better?” + </p> + <p> + The child hung her head for a few moments in silence. The master waited + patiently. Tempted by the quiet, a hare ran close to the couple, and + raising her bright eyes and velvet forepaws, sat and gazed at them. A + squirrel ran halfway down the furrowed bark of the fallen tree, and there + stopped. + </p> + <p> + “We are waiting, Lissy,” said the master, in a whisper, and the child + smiled. Stirred by a passing breeze, the treetops rocked, and a long + pencil of light stole through their interlaced boughs full on the doubting + face and irresolute little figure. Suddenly she took the master's hand in + her quick way. What she said was scarcely audible, but the master, putting + the black hair back from her forehead, kissed her; and so, hand in hand, + they passed out of the damp aisles and forest odors into the open sunlit + road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Somewhat less spiteful in her intercourse with other scholars, Mliss still + retained an offensive attitude in regard to Clytemnestra. Perhaps the + jealous element was not entirely lulled in her passionate little breast. + Perhaps it was only that the round curves and plump outline offered more + extended pinching surface. But while such ebullitions were under the + master's control, her enmity occasionally took a new and irrepressible + form. + </p> + <p> + The master in his first estimate of the child's character could not + conceive that she had ever possessed a doll. But the master, like many + other professed readers of character, was safer in a posteriori than a + priori reasoning. Mliss had a doll, but then it was emphatically Mliss's + doll—a smaller copy of herself. Its unhappy existence had been a + secret discovered accidentally by Mrs. Morpher. It had been the old-time + companion of Mliss's wanderings, and bore evident marks of suffering. Its + original complexion was long since washed away by the weather and anointed + by the slime of ditches. It looked very much as Mliss had in days past. + Its one gown of faded stuff was dirty and ragged, as hers had been. Mliss + had never been known to apply to it any childish term of endearment. She + never exhibited it in the presence of other children. It was put severely + to bed in a hollow tree near the schoolhouse, and only allowed exercise + during Mliss's rambles. Fulfilling a stern duty to her doll, as she would + to herself, it knew no luxuries. + </p> + <p> + Now Mrs. Morpher, obeying a commendable impulse, bought another doll and + gave it to Mliss. The child received it gravely and curiously. The master + on looking at it one day fancied he saw a slight resemblance in its round + red cheeks and mild blue eyes to Clytemnestra. It became evident before + long that Mliss had also noticed the same resemblance. Accordingly she + hammered its waxen head on the rocks when she was alone, and sometimes + dragged it with a string round its neck to and from school. At other + times, setting it up on her desk, she made a pincushion of its patient and + inoffensive body. Whether this was done in revenge of what she considered + a second figurative obtrusion of Clytie's excellences upon her, or whether + she had an intuitive appreciation of the rites of certain other heathens, + and, indulging in that “fetish” ceremony, imagined that the original of + her wax model would pine away and finally die, is a metaphysical question + I shall not now consider. + </p> + <p> + In spite of these moral vagaries, the master could not help noticing in + her different tasks the working of a quick, restless, and vigorous + perception. She knew neither the hesitancy nor the doubts of childhood. + Her answers in class were always slightly dashed with audacity. Of course + she was not infallible. But her courage and daring in passing beyond her + own depth and that of the floundering little swimmers around her, in their + minds outweighed all errors of judgment. Children are not better than + grown people in this respect, I fancy; and whenever the little red hand + flashed above her desk, there was a wondering silence, and even the master + was sometimes oppressed with a doubt of his own experience and judgment. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, certain attributes which at first amused and entertained his + fancy began to afflict him with grave doubts. He could not but see that + Mliss was revengeful, irreverent, and willful. That there was but one + better quality which pertained to her semisavage disposition—the + faculty of physical fortitude and self-sacrifice, and another, though not + always an attribute of the noble savage—Truth. Mliss was both + fearless and sincere; perhaps in such a character the adjectives were + synonymous. + </p> + <p> + The master had been doing some hard thinking on this subject, and had + arrived at that conclusion quite common to all who think sincerely, that + he was generally the slave of his own prejudices, when he determined to + call on the Rev. McSnagley for advice. This decision was somewhat + humiliating to his pride, as he and McSnagley were not friends. But he + thought of Mliss, and the evening of their first meeting; and perhaps with + a pardonable superstition that it was not chance alone that had guided her + willful feet to the schoolhouse, and perhaps with a complacent + consciousness of the rare magnanimity of the act, he choked back his + dislike and went to McSnagley. + </p> + <p> + The reverend gentleman was glad to see him. Moreover, he observed that the + master was looking “peartish,” and hoped he had got over the “neuralgy” + and “rheumatiz.” He himself had been troubled with a dumb “ager” since + last conference. But he had learned to “rastle and pray.” + </p> + <p> + Pausing a moment to enable the master to write his certain method of + curing the dumb “ager” upon the book and volume of his brain, Mr. + McSnagley proceeded to inquire after Sister Morpher. “She is an adornment + to ChrisTEWanity, and has a likely growin' young family,” added Mr. + McSnagley; “and there's that mannerly young gal—so well behaved—Miss + Clytie.” In fact, Clytie's perfections seemed to affect him to such an + extent that he dwelt for several minutes upon them. The master was doubly + embarrassed. In the first place, there was an enforced contrast with poor + Mliss in all this praise of Clytie. Secondly, there was something + unpleasantly confidential in his tone of speaking of Mrs. Morpher's + earliest born. So that the master, after a few futile efforts to say + something natural, found it convenient to recall another engagement, and + left without asking the information required, but in his after reflections + somewhat unjustly giving the Rev. Mr. McSnagley the full benefit of having + refused it. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps this rebuff placed the master and pupil once more in the close + communion of old. The child seemed to notice the change in the master's + manner, which had of late been constrained, and in one of their long + postprandial walks she stopped suddenly, and mounting a stump, looked full + in his face with big, searching eyes. “You ain't mad?” said she, with an + interrogative shake of the black braids. “No.” “Nor bothered?” “No.” “Nor + hungry?” (Hunger was to Mliss a sickness that might attack a person at any + moment.) “No.” “Nor thinking of her?” “Of whom, Lissy?” “That white girl.” + (This was the latest epithet invented by Mliss, who was a very dark + brunette, to express Clytemnestra.) “No.” “Upon your word?” (A substitute + for “Hope you'll die!” proposed by the master.) “Yes.” “And sacred honor?” + “Yes.” Then Mliss gave him a fierce little kiss, and, hopping down, + fluttered off. For two or three days after that she condescended to appear + more like other children, and be, as she expressed it, “good.” + </p> + <p> + Two years had passed since the master's advent at Smith's Pocket, and as + his salary was not large, and the prospects of Smith's Pocket eventually + becoming the capital of the State not entirely definite, he contemplated a + change. He had informed the school trustees privately of his intentions, + but educated young men of unblemished moral character being scarce at that + time, he consented to continue his school term through the winter to early + spring. None else knew of his intention except his one friend, a Dr. + Duchesne, a young Creole physician known to the people of Wingdam as + “Duchesny.” He never mentioned it to Mrs. Morpher, Clytie, or any of his + scholars. His reticence was partly the result of a constitutional + indisposition to fuss, partly a desire to be spared the questions and + surmises of vulgar curiosity, and partly that he never really believed he + was going to do anything before it was done. + </p> + <p> + He did not like to think of Mliss. It was a selfish instinct, perhaps, + which made him try to fancy his feeling for the child was foolish, + romantic, and unpractical. He even tried to imagine that she would do + better under the control of an older and sterner teacher. Then she was + nearly eleven, and in a few years, by the rules of Red Mountain, would be + a woman. He had done his duty. After Smith's death he addressed letters to + Smith's relatives, and received one answer from a sister of Melissa's + mother. Thanking the master, she stated her intention of leaving the + Atlantic States for California with her husband in a few months. This was + a slight superstructure for the airy castle which the master pictured for + Mliss's home, but it was easy to fancy that some loving, sympathetic + woman, with the claims of kindred, might better guide her wayward nature. + Yet, when the master had read the letter, Mliss listened to it carelessly, + received it submissively, and afterward cut figures out of it with her + scissors, supposed to represent Clytemnestra, labeled “the white girl,” to + prevent mistakes, and impaled them upon the outer walls of the + schoolhouse. + </p> + <p> + When the summer was about spent, and the last harvest had been gathered in + the valleys, the master bethought him of gathering in a few ripened shoots + of the young idea, and of having his Harvest Home, or Examination. So the + savants and professionals of Smith's Pocket were gathered to witness that + time-honored custom of placing timid children in a constrained positions + and bullying them as in a witness box. As usual in such cases, the most + audacious and self-possessed were the lucky recipients of the honors. The + reader will imagine that in the present instance Mliss and Clytie were + preeminent, and divided public attention; Mliss with her clearness of + material perception and self-reliance, Clytie with her placid self-esteem + and saintlike correctness of deportment. The other little ones were timid + and blundering. Mliss's readiness and brilliancy, of course, captivated + the greatest number and provoked the greatest applause. Mliss's + antecedents had unconsciously awakened the strongest sympathies of a class + whose athletic forms were ranged against the walls, or whose handsome + bearded faces looked in at the windows. But Mliss's popularity was + overthrown by an unexpected circumstance. + </p> + <p> + McSnagley had invited himself, and had been going through the pleasing + entertainment of frightening the more timid pupils by the vaguest and most + ambiguous questions delivered in an impressive funereal tone; and Mliss + had soared into astronomy, and was tracking the course of our spotted ball + through space, and keeping time with the music of the spheres, and + defining the tethered orbits of the planets, when McSnagley impressively + arose. “Meelissy! ye were speaking of the revolutions of this yere yearth + and the move-MENTS of the sun, and I think ye said it had been a doing of + it since the creashun, eh?” Mliss nodded a scornful affirmative. “Well, + war that the truth?” said McSnagley, folding his arms. “Yes,” said Mliss, + shutting up her little red lips tightly. The handsome outlines at the + windows peered further in the schoolroom, and a saintly Raphael face, with + blond beard and soft blue eyes, belonging to the biggest scamp in the + diggings, turned toward the child and whispered, “Stick to it, Mliss!” The + reverend gentleman heaved a deep sigh, and cast a compassionate glance at + the master, then at the children, and then rested his look on Clytie. That + young woman softly elevated her round, white arm. Its seductive curves + were enhanced by a gorgeous and massive specimen bracelet, the gift of one + of her humblest worshipers, worn in honor of the occasion. There was a + momentary silence. Clytie's round cheeks were very pink and soft. Clytie's + big eyes were very bright and blue. Clytie's low-necked white book muslin + rested softly on Clytie's white, plump shoulders. Clytie looked at the + master, and the master nodded. Then Clytie spoke softly: + </p> + <p> + “Joshua commanded the sun to stand still, and it obeyed him!” There was a + low hum of applause in the schoolroom, a triumphant expression on + McSnagley's face, a grave shadow on the master's, and a comical look of + disappointment reflected from the windows. Mliss skimmed rapidly over her + astronomy, and then shut the book with a loud snap. A groan burst from + McSnagley, an expression of astonishment from the schoolroom, a yell from + the windows, as Mliss brought her red fist down on the desk, with the + emphatic declaration: + </p> + <p> + “It's a damn lie. I don't believe it!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + The long wet season had drawn near its close. Signs of spring were visible + in the swelling buds and rushing torrents. The pine forests exhaled the + fresher spicery. The azaleas were already budding, the ceanothus getting + ready its lilac livery for spring. On the green upland which climbed Red + Mountain at its southern aspect the long spike of the monkshood shot up + from its broad-leaved stool, and once more shook its dark-blue bells. + Again the billow above Smith's grave was soft and green, its crest just + tossed with the foam of daisies and buttercups. The little graveyard had + gathered a few new dwellers in the past year, and the mounds were placed + two by two by the little paling until they reached Smith's grave, and + there there was but one. General superstition had shunned it, and the plot + beside Smith was vacant. + </p> + <p> + There had been several placards posted about the town, intimating that, at + a certain period, a celebrated dramatic company would perform, for a few + days, a series of “side-splitting” and “screaming farces”; that, + alternating pleasantly with this, there would be some melodrama and a + grand divertisement which would include singing, dancing, etc. These + announcements occasioned a great fluttering among the little folk, and + were the theme of much excitement and great speculation among the master's + scholars. The master had promised Mliss, to whom this sort of thing was + sacred and rare, that she should go, and on that momentous evening the + master and Mliss “assisted.” + </p> + <p> + The performance was the prevalent style of heavy mediocrity; the melodrama + was not bad enough to laugh at nor good enough to excite. But the master, + turning wearily to the child, was astonished and felt something like + self-accusation in noticing the peculiar effect upon her excitable nature. + The red blood flushed in her cheeks at each stroke of her panting little + heart. Her small passionate lips were slightly parted to give vent to her + hurried breath. Her widely opened lids threw up and arched her black + eyebrows. She did not laugh at the dismal comicalities of the funny man, + for Mliss seldom laughed. Nor was she discreetly affected to the delicate + extremes of the corner of a white handkerchief, as was the tender-hearted + “Clytie,” who was talking with her “feller” and ogling the master at the + same moment. But when the performance was over, and the green curtain fell + on the little stage, Mliss drew a long deep breath, and turned to the + master's grave face with a half-apologetic smile and wearied gesture. Then + she said, “Now take me home!” and dropped the lids of her black eyes, as + if to dwell once more in fancy on the mimic stage. + </p> + <p> + On their way to Mrs. Morpher's the master thought proper to ridicule the + whole performance. Now he shouldn't wonder if Mliss thought that the young + lady who acted so beautifully was really in earnest, and in love with the + gentleman who wore such fine clothes. Well, if she were in love with him + it was a very unfortunate thing! “Why?” said Mliss, with an upward sweep + of the drooping lid. “Oh! well, he couldn't support his wife at his + present salary, and pay so much a week for his fine clothes, and then they + wouldn't receive as much wages if they were married as if they were merely + lovers—that is,” added the master, “if they are not already married + to somebody else; but I think the husband of the pretty young countess + takes the tickets at the door, or pulls up the curtain, or snuffs the + candles, or does something equally refined and elegant. As to the young + man with nice clothes, which are really nice now, and must cost at least + two and a half or three dollars, not to speak of that mantle of red + drugget which I happen to know the price of, for I bought some of it for + my room once—as to this young man, Lissy, he is a pretty good + fellow, and if he does drink occasionally, I don't think people ought to + take advantage of it and give him black eyes and throw him in the mud. Do + you? I am sure he might owe me two dollars and a half a long time, before + I would throw it up in his face, as the fellow did the other night at + Wingdam.” + </p> + <p> + Mliss had taken his hand in both of hers and was trying to look in his + eyes, which the young man kept as resolutely averted. Mliss had a faint + idea of irony, indulging herself sometimes in a species of sardonic humor, + which was equally visible in her actions and her speech. But the young man + continued in this strain until they had reached Mrs. Morpher's, and he had + deposited Mliss in her maternal charge. Waiving the invitation of Mrs. + Morpher to refreshment and rest, and shading his eyes with his hand to + keep out the blue-eyed Clytemnestra's siren glances, he excused himself, + and went home. + </p> + <p> + For two or three days after the advent of the dramatic company, Mliss was + late at school, and the master's usual Friday afternoon ramble was for + once omitted, owing to the absence of his trustworthy guide. As he was + putting away his books and preparing to leave the schoolhouse, a small + voice piped at his side, “Please, sir?” The master turned and there stood + Aristides Morpher. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my little man,” said the master, impatiently, “what is it? quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir, me and 'Kerg' thinks that Mliss is going to run away agin.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that, sir?” said the master, with that unjust testiness with which + we always receive disagreeable news. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir, she don't stay home any more, and 'Kerg' and me see her talking + with one of those actor fellers, and she's with him now; and please, sir, + yesterday she told 'Kerg' and me she could make a speech as well as Miss + Cellerstina Montmoressy, and she spouted right off by heart,” and the + little fellow paused in a collapsed condition. + </p> + <p> + “What actor?” asked the master. + </p> + <p> + “Him as wears the shiny hat. And hair. And gold pin. And gold chain,” said + the just Aristides, putting periods for commas to eke out his breath. + </p> + <p> + The master put on his gloves and hat, feeling an unpleasant tightness in + his chest and thorax, and walked out in the road. Aristides trotted along + by his side, endeavoring to keep pace with his short legs to the master's + strides, when the master stopped suddenly, and Aristides bumped up against + him. “Where were they talking?” asked the master, as if continuing the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “At the Arcade,” said Aristides. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the main street the master paused. “Run down home,” said + he to the boy. “If Mliss is there, come to the Arcade and tell me. If she + isn't there, stay home; run!” And off trotted the short-legged Aristides. + </p> + <p> + The Arcade was just across the way—a long, rambling building + containing a barroom, billiard room, and restaurant. As the young man + crossed the plaza he noticed that two or three of the passers-by turned + and looked after him. He looked at his clothes, took out his handkerchief, + and wiped his face before he entered the barroom. It contained the usual + number of loungers, who stared at him as he entered. One of them looked at + him so fixedly and with such a strange expression that the master stopped + and looked again, and then saw it was only his own reflection in a large + mirror. This made the master think that perhaps he was a little excited, + and so he took up a copy of the RED MOUNTAIN BANNER from one of the + tables, and tried to recover his composure by reading the column of + advertisements. + </p> + <p> + He then walked through the barroom, through the restaurant, and into the + billiard room. The child was not there. In the latter apartment a person + was standing by one of the tables with a broad-brimmed glazed hat on his + head. The master recognized him as the agent of the dramatic company; he + had taken a dislike to him at their first meeting, from the peculiar + fashion of wearing his beard and hair. Satisfied that the object of his + search was not there, he turned to the man with a glazed hat. He had + noticed the master, but tried that common trick of unconsciousness in + which vulgar natures always fail. Balancing a billiard cue in his hand, he + pretended to play with a ball in the center of the table. The master stood + opposite to him until he raised his eyes; when their glances met, the + master walked up to him. + </p> + <p> + He had intended to avoid a scene or quarrel, but when he began to speak, + something kept rising in his throat and retarded his utterance, and his + own voice frightened him, it sounded so distant, low, and resonant. “I + understand,” he began, “that Melissa Smith, an orphan, and one of my + scholars, has talked with you about adopting your profession. Is that so?” + </p> + <p> + The man with the glazed hat leaned over the table and made an imaginary + shot that sent the ball spinning round the cushions. Then, walking round + the table, he recovered the ball and placed it upon the spot. This duty + discharged, getting ready for another shot, he said: + </p> + <p> + “S'pose she has?” + </p> + <p> + The master choked up again, but, squeezing the cushion of the table in his + gloved hand, he went on: + </p> + <p> + “If you are a gentleman, I have only to tell you that I am her guardian, + and responsible for her career. You know as well as I do the kind of life + you offer her. As you may learn of anyone here, I have already brought her + out of an existence worse than death—out of the streets and the + contamination of vice. I am trying to do so again. Let us talk like men. + She has neither father, mother, sister, or brother. Are you seeking to + give her an equivalent for these?” + </p> + <p> + The man with the glazed hat examined the point of his cue, and then looked + around for somebody to enjoy the joke with him. + </p> + <p> + “I know that she is a strange, willful girl,” continued the master, “but + she is better than she was. I believe that I have some influence over her + still. I beg and hope, therefore, that you will take no further steps in + this matter, but as a man, as a gentleman, leave her to me. I am willing—” + But here something rose again in the master's throat, and the sentence + remained unfinished. + </p> + <p> + The man with the glazed hat, mistaking the master's silence, raised his + head with a coarse, brutal laugh, and said in a loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “Want her yourself, do you? That cock won't fight here, young man!” + </p> + <p> + The insult was more in the tone than in the words, more in the glance than + tone, and more in the man's instinctive nature than all these. The best + appreciable rhetoric to this kind of animal is a blow. The master felt + this, and, with his pent-up, nervous energy finding expression in the one + act, he struck the brute full in his grinning face. The blow sent the + glazed hat one way and the cue another, and tore the glove and skin from + the master's hand from knuckle to joint. It opened up the corners of the + fellow's mouth, and spoilt the peculiar shape of his beard for some time + to come. + </p> + <p> + There was a shout, an imprecation, a scuffle, and the trampling of many + feet. Then the crowd parted right and left, and two sharp quick reports + followed each other in rapid succession. Then they closed again about his + opponent, and the master was standing alone. He remembered picking bits of + burning wadding from his coat sleeve with his left hand. Someone was + holding his other hand. Looking at it, he saw it was still bleeding from + the blow, but his fingers were clenched around the handle of a glittering + knife. He could not remember when or how he got it. + </p> + <p> + The man who was holding his hand was Mr. Morpher. He hurried the master to + the door, but the master held back, and tried to tell him as well as he + could with his parched throat about “Mliss.” “It's all right, my boy,” + said Mr. Morpher. “She's home!” And they passed out into the street + together. As they walked along Mr. Morpher said that Mliss had come + running into the house a few moments before, and had dragged him out, + saying that somebody was trying to kill the master at the Arcade. Wishing + to be alone, the master promised Mr. Morpher that he would not seek the + agent again that night, and parted from him, taking the road toward the + schoolhouse. He was surprised in nearing it to find the door open—still + more surprised to find Mliss sitting there. + </p> + <p> + The master's nature, as I have hinted before, had, like most sensitive + organizations, a selfish basis. The brutal taunt thrown out by his late + adversary still rankled in his heart. It was possible, he thought, that + such a construction might be put upon his affection for the child, which + at best was foolish and Quixotic. Besides, had she not voluntarily + abnegated his authority and affection? And what had everybody else said + about her? Why should he alone combat the opinion of all, and be at last + obliged tacitly to confess the truth of all they predicted? And he had + been a participant in a low barroom fight with a common boor, and risked + his life, to prove what? What had he proved? Nothing? What would the + people say? What would his friends say? What would McSnagley say? + </p> + <p> + In his self-accusation the last person he should have wished to meet was + Mliss. He entered the door, and going up to his desk, told the child, in a + few cold words, that he was busy, and wished to be alone. As she rose he + took her vacant seat, and, sitting down, buried his head in his hands. + When he looked up again she was still standing there. She was looking at + his face with an anxious expression. + </p> + <p> + “Did you kill him?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No!” said the master. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I gave you the knife for!” said the child, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Gave me the knife?” repeated the master, in bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, gave you the knife. I was there under the bar. Saw you hit him. Saw + you both fall. He dropped his old knife. I gave it to you. Why didn't you + stick him?” said Mliss rapidly, with an expressive twinkle of the black + eyes and a gesture of the little red hand. + </p> + <p> + The master could only look his astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mliss. “If you'd asked me, I'd told you I was off with the + play-actors. Why was I off with the play-actors? Because you wouldn't tell + me you was going away. I knew it. I heard you tell the Doctor so. I wasn't + a goin' to stay here alone with those Morphers. I'd rather die first.” + </p> + <p> + With a dramatic gesture which was perfectly consistent with her character, + she drew from her bosom a few limp green leaves, and, holding them out at + arm's length, said in her quick vivid way, and in the queer pronunciation + of her old life, which she fell into when unduly excited: + </p> + <p> + “That's the poison plant you said would kill me. I'll go with the + play-actors, or I'll eat this and die here. I don't care which. I won't + stay here, where they hate and despise me! Neither would you let me, if + you didn't hate and despise me too!” + </p> + <p> + The passionate little breast heaved, and two big tears peeped over the + edge of Mliss's eyelids, but she whisked them away with the corner of her + apron as if they had been wasps. + </p> + <p> + “If you lock me up in jail,” said Mliss, fiercely, “to keep me from the + play-actors, I'll poison myself. Father killed himself—why shouldn't + I? You said a mouthful of that root would kill me, and I always carry it + here,” and she struck her breast with her clenched fist. + </p> + <p> + The master thought of the vacant plot beside Smith's grave, and of the + passionate little figure before him. Seizing her hands in his and looking + full into her truthful eyes, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Lissy, will you go with ME?” + </p> + <p> + The child put her arms around his neck, and said joyfully, “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But now—tonight?” + </p> + <p> + “Tonight.” + </p> + <p> + And, hand in hand, they passed into the road—the narrow road that + had once brought her weary feet to the master's door, and which it seemed + she should not tread again alone. The stars glittered brightly above them. + For good or ill the lesson had been learned, and behind them the school of + Red Mountain closed upon them forever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE RIGHT EYE OF THE COMMANDER + </h2> + <p> + The year of grace 1797 passed away on the coast of California in a + southwesterly gale. The little bay of San Carlos, albeit sheltered by the + headlands of the blessed Trinity, was rough and turbulent; its foam clung + quivering to the seaward wall of the Mission garden; the air was filled + with flying sand and spume, and as the Senor Commandante, Hermenegildo + Salvatierra, looked from the deep embrasured window of the Presidio + guardroom, he felt the salt breath of the distant sea buffet a color into + his smoke-dried cheeks. + </p> + <p> + The Commander, I have said, was gazing thoughtfully from the window of the + guardroom. He may have been reviewing the events of the year now about to + pass away. But, like the garrison at the Presidio, there was little to + review; the year, like its predecessors, had been uneventful—the + days had slipped by in a delicious monotony of simple duties, unbroken by + incident or interruption. The regularly recurring feasts and saints' days, + the half-yearly courier from San Diego, the rare transport ship and rarer + foreign vessel, were the mere details of his patriarchal life. If there + was no achievement, there was certainly no failure. Abundant harvests and + patient industry amply supplied the wants of Presidio and Mission. + Isolated from the family of nations, the wars which shook the world + concerned them not so much as the last earthquake; the struggle that + emancipated their sister colonies on the other side of the continent to + them had no suggestiveness. In short, it was that glorious Indian summer + of California history around which so much poetical haze still lingers—that + bland, indolent autumn of Spanish rule, so soon to be followed by the + wintry storms of Mexican independence and the reviving spring of American + conquest. + </p> + <p> + The Commander turned from the window and walked toward the fire that + burned brightly on the deep ovenlike hearth. A pile of copybooks, the work + of the Presidio school, lay on the table. As he turned over the leaves + with a paternal interest, and surveyed the fair round Scripture text—the + first pious pothooks of the pupils of San Carlos—an audible + commentary fell from his lips: “'Abimelech took her from Abraham'—ah, + little one, excellent!—'Jacob sent to see his brother'—body of + Christ! that upstroke of thine, Paquita, is marvelous; the Governor shall + see it!” A film of honest pride dimmed the Commander's left eye—the + right, alas! twenty years before had been sealed by an Indian arrow. He + rubbed it softly with the sleeve of his leather jacket, and continued: + “'The Ishmaelites having arrived—'” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, for there was a step in the courtyard, a foot upon the + threshold, and a stranger entered. With the instinct of an old soldier, + the Commander, after one glance at the intruder, turned quickly toward the + wall, where his trusty Toledo hung, or should have been hanging. But it + was not there, and as he recalled that the last time he had seen that + weapon it was being ridden up and down the gallery by Pepito, the infant + son of Bautista, the tortilla-maker, he blushed and then contented himself + with frowning upon the intruder. + </p> + <p> + But the stranger's air, though irreverent, was decidedly peaceful. He was + unarmed, and wore the ordinary cape of tarpaulin and sea boots of a + mariner. Except a villainous smell of codfish, there was little about him + that was peculiar. + </p> + <p> + His name, as he informed the Commander, in Spanish that was more fluent + than elegant or precise—his name was Peleg Scudder. He was master of + the schooner GENERAL COURT, of the port of Salem in Massachusetts, on a + trading voyage to the South Seas, but now driven by stress of weather into + the bay of San Carlos. He begged permission to ride out the gale under the + headlands of the blessed Trinity, and no more. Water he did not need, + having taken in a supply at Bodega. He knew the strict surveillance of the + Spanish port regulations in regard to foreign vessels, and would do + nothing against the severe discipline and good order of the settlement. + There was a slight tinge of sarcasm in his tone as he glanced toward the + desolate parade ground of the Presidio and the open unguarded gate. The + fact was that the sentry, Felipe Gomez, had discreetly retired to shelter + at the beginning of the storm, and was then sound asleep in the corridor. + </p> + <p> + The Commander hesitated. The port regulations were severe, but he was + accustomed to exercise individual authority, and beyond an old order + issued ten years before, regarding the American ship COLUMBIA, there was + no precedent to guide him. The storm was severe, and a sentiment of + humanity urged him to grant the stranger's request. It is but just to the + Commander to say that his inability to enforce a refusal did not weigh + with his decision. He would have denied with equal disregard of + consequences that right to a seventy-four-gun ship which he now yielded so + gracefully to this Yankee trading schooner. He stipulated only that there + should be no communication between the ship and shore. “For yourself, + Senor Captain,” he continued, “accept my hospitality. The fort is yours as + long as you shall grace it with your distinguished presence”; and with + old-fashioned courtesy, he made the semblance of withdrawing from the + guardroom. + </p> + <p> + Master Peleg Scudder smiled as he thought of the half-dismantled fort, the + two moldy brass cannon, cast in Manila a century previous, and the + shiftless garrison. A wild thought of accepting the Commander's offer + literally, conceived in the reckless spirit of a man who never let slip an + offer for trade, for a moment filled his brain, but a timely reflection of + the commercial unimportance of the transaction checked him. He only took a + capacious quid of tobacco as the Commander gravely drew a settle before + the fire, and in honor of his guest untied the black-silk handkerchief + that bound his grizzled brows. + </p> + <p> + What passed between Salvatierra and his guest that night it becomes me + not, as a grave chronicler of the salient points of history, to relate. I + have said that Master Peleg Scudder was a fluent talker, and under the + influence of divers strong waters, furnished by his host, he became still + more loquacious. And think of a man with a twenty years' budget of gossip! + The Commander learned, for the first time, how Great Britain lost her + colonies; of the French Revolution; of the great Napoleon, whose + achievements, perhaps, Peleg colored more highly than the Commander's + superiors would have liked. And when Peleg turned questioner, the + Commander was at his mercy. He gradually made himself master of the gossip + of the Mission and Presidio, the “small-beer” chronicles of that pastoral + age, the conversion of the heathen, the Presidio schools, and even asked + the Commander how he had lost his eye! It is said that at this point of + the conversation Master Peleg produced from about his person divers small + trinkets, kickshaws, and newfangled trifles, and even forced some of them + upon his host. It is further alleged that under the malign influence of + Peleg and several glasses of aguardiente, the Commander lost somewhat of + his decorum, and behaved in a manner unseemly for one in his position, + reciting high-flown Spanish poetry, and even piping in a thin, high voice + divers madrigals and heathen canzonets of an amorous complexion; chiefly + in regard to a “little one” who was his, the Commander's, “soul”! These + allegations, perhaps unworthy the notice of a serious chronicler, should + be received with great caution, and are introduced here as simple hearsay. + That the Commander, however, took a handkerchief and attempted to show his + guest the mysteries of the SEMICUACUA, capering in an agile but indecorous + manner about the apartment, has been denied. Enough for the purposes of + this narrative that at midnight Peleg assisted his host to bed with many + protestations of undying friendship, and then, as the gale had abated, + took his leave of the Presidio and hurried aboard the GENERAL COURT. When + the day broke the ship was gone. + </p> + <p> + I know not if Peleg kept his word with his host. It is said that the holy + fathers at the Mission that night heard a loud chanting in the plaza, as + of the heathens singing psalms through their noses; that for many days + after an odor of salt codfish prevailed in the settlement; that a dozen + hard nutmegs, which were unfit for spice or seed, were found in the + possession of the wife of the baker, and that several bushels of shoe + pegs, which bore a pleasing resemblance to oats, but were quite inadequate + to the purposes of provender, were discovered in the stable of the + blacksmith. But when the reader reflects upon the sacredness of a Yankee + trader's word, the stringent discipline of the Spanish port regulations, + and the proverbial indisposition of my countrymen to impose upon the + confidence of a simple people, he will at once reject this part of the + story. + </p> + <p> + A roll of drums, ushering in the year 1798, awoke the Commander. The sun + was shining brightly, and the storm had ceased. He sat up in bed, and + through the force of habit rubbed his left eye. As the remembrance of the + previous night came back to him, he jumped from his couch and ran to the + window. There was no ship in the bay. A sudden thought seemed to strike + him, and he rubbed both of his eyes. Not content with this, he consulted + the metallic mirror which hung beside his crucifix. There was no mistake; + the Commander had a visible second eye—a right one—as good, + save for the purposes of vision, as the left. + </p> + <p> + Whatever might have been the true secret of this transformation, but one + opinion prevailed at San Carlos. It was one of those rare miracles + vouchsafed a pious Catholic community as an evidence to the heathen, + through the intercession of the blessed San Carlos himself. That their + beloved Commander, the temporal defender of the Faith, should be the + recipient of this miraculous manifestation was most fit and seemly. The + Commander himself was reticent; he could not tell a falsehood—he + dared not tell the truth. After all, if the good folk of San Carlos + believed that the powers of his right eye were actually restored, was it + wise and discreet for him to undeceive them? For the first time in his + life the Commander thought of policy—for the first time he quoted + that text which has been the lure of so many well-meaning but easy + Christians, of being “all things to all men.” Infeliz Hermenegildo + Salvatierra! + </p> + <p> + For by degrees an ominous whisper crept though the little settlement. The + Right Eye of the Commander, although miraculous, seemed to exercise a + baleful effect upon the beholder. No one could look at it without winking. + It was cold, hard, relentless, and unflinching. More than that, it seemed + to be endowed with a dreadful prescience—a faculty of seeing through + and into the inarticulate thoughts of those it looked upon. The soldiers + of the garrison obeyed the eye rather than the voice of their commander, + and answered his glance rather than his lips in questioning. The servants + could not evade the ever watchful but cold attention that seemed to pursue + them. The children of the Presidio school smirched their copybooks under + the awful supervision, and poor Paquita, the prize pupil, failed utterly + in that marvelous upstroke when her patron stood beside her. Gradually + distrust, suspicion, self-accusation, and timidity took the place of + trust, confidence, and security throughout San Carlos. Whenever the Right + Eye of the Commander fell, a shadow fell with it. + </p> + <p> + Nor was Salvatierra entirely free from the baleful influence of his + miraculous acquisition. Unconscious of its effect upon others, he only saw + in their actions evidence of certain things that the crafty Peleg had + hinted on that eventful New Year's eve. His most trusty retainers + stammered, blushed, and faltered before him. Self-accusations, confessions + of minor faults and delinquencies, or extravagant excuses and apologies + met his mildest inquiries. The very children that he loved—his pet + pupil, Paquita—seemed to be conscious of some hidden sin. The result + of this constant irritation showed itself more plainly. For the first + half-year the Commander's voice and eye were at variance. He was still + kind, tender, and thoughtful in speech. Gradually, however, his voice took + upon itself the hardness of his glance and its skeptical, impassive + quality, and as the year again neared its close it was plain that the + Commander had fitted himself to the eye, and not the eye to the Commander. + </p> + <p> + It may be surmised that these changes did not escape the watchful + solicitude of the Fathers. Indeed, the few who were first to ascribe the + right eye of Salvatierra to miraculous origin and the special grace of the + blessed San Carlos, now talked openly of witchcraft and the agency of + Luzbel, the evil one. It would have fared ill with Hermenegildo + Salvatierra had he been aught but Commander or amenable to local + authority. But the reverend father, Friar Manuel de Cortes, had no power + over the political executive, and all attempts at spiritual advice failed + signally. He retired baffled and confused from his first interview with + the Commander, who seemed now to take a grim satisfaction in the fateful + power of his glance. The holy Father contradicted himself, exposed the + fallacies of his own arguments, and even, it is asserted, committed + himself to several undoubted heresies. When the Commander stood up at + mass, if the officiating priest caught that skeptical and searching eye, + the service was inevitably ruined. Even the power of the Holy Church + seemed to be lost, and the last hold upon the affections of the people and + the good order of the settlement departed from San Carlos. + </p> + <p> + As the long dry summer passed, the low hills that surrounded the white + walls of the Presidio grew more and more to resemble in hue the leathern + jacket of the Commander, and Nature herself seemed to have borrowed his + dry, hard glare. The earth was cracked and seamed with drought; a blight + had fallen upon the orchards and vineyards, and the rain, long-delayed and + ardently prayed for, came not. The sky was as tearless as the right eye of + the Commander. Murmurs of discontent, insubordination, and plotting among + the Indians reached his ears; he only set his teeth the more firmly, + tightened the knot of his black-silk handkerchief, and looked up his + Toledo. + </p> + <p> + The last day of the year 1798 found the Commander sitting, at the hour of + evening prayers, alone in the guardroom. He no longer attended the + services of the Holy Church, but crept away at such times to some solitary + spot, where he spent the interval in silent meditation. The firelight + played upon the low beams and rafters, but left the bowed figure of + Salvatierra in darkness. Sitting thus, he felt a small hand touch his arm, + and looking down, saw the figure of Paquita, his little Indian pupil, at + his knee. “Ah, littlest of all,” said the Commander, with something of his + old tenderness, lingering over the endearing diminutives of his native + speech—“sweet one, what doest thou here? Art thou not afraid of him + whom everyone shuns and fears?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the little Indian, readily, “not in the dark. I hear your voice—the + old voice; I feel your touch—the old touch; but I see not your eye, + Senor Commandante. That only I fear—and that, O senor, O my father,” + said the child, lifting her little arms towards his—“that I know is + not thine own!” + </p> + <p> + The Commander shuddered and turned away. Then, recovering himself, he + kissed Paquita gravely on the forehead and bade her retire. A few hours + later, when silence had fallen upon the Presidio, he sought his own couch + and slept peacefully. + </p> + <p> + At about the middle watch of the night a dusky figure crept through the + low embrasure of the Commander's apartment. Other figures were flitting + through the parade ground, which the Commander might have seen had he not + slept so quietly. The intruder stepped noiselessly to the couch and + listened to the sleeper's deep-drawn inspiration. Something glittered in + the firelight as the savage lifted his arm; another moment and the sore + perplexities of Hermenegildo Salvatierra would have been over, when + suddenly the savage started and fell back in a paroxysm of terror. The + Commander slept peacefully, but his right eye, widely opened, fixed and + unaltered, glared coldly on the would-be assassin. The man fell to the + earth in a fit, and the noise awoke the sleeper. + </p> + <p> + To rise to his feet, grasp his sword, and deal blows thick and fast upon + the mutinous savages who now thronged the room was the work of a moment. + Help opportunely arrived, and the undisciplined Indians were speedily + driven beyond the walls, but in the scuffle the Commander received a blow + upon his right eye, and, lifting his hand to that mysterious organ, it was + gone. Never again was it found, and never again, for bale or bliss, did it + adorn the right orbit of the Commander. + </p> + <p> + With it passed away the spell that had fallen upon San Carlos. The rain + returned to invigorate the languid soil, harmony was restored between + priest and soldier, the green grass presently waved over the sere + hillsides, the children flocked again to the side of their martial + preceptor, a TE DEUM was sung in the Mission Church, and pastoral content + once more smiled upon the gentle valleys of San Carlos. And far southward + crept the GENERAL COURT with its master, Peleg Scudder, trafficking in + beads and peltries with the Indians, and offering glass eyes, wooden legs, + and other Boston notions to the chiefs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_NOTE" id="link2H_NOTE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + NOTES BY FLOOD AND FIELD + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I—IN THE FIELD + </h2> + <p> + It was near the close of an October day that I began to be disagreeably + conscious of the Sacramento Valley. I had been riding since sunrise, and + my course through the depressing monotony of the long level landscape + affected me more like a dull dyspeptic dream than a business journey, + performed under that sincerest of natural phenomena—a California + sky. The recurring stretches of brown and baked fields, the gaping + fissures in the dusty trail, the hard outline of the distant hills, and + the herds of slowly moving cattle, seemed like features of some glittering + stereoscopic picture that never changed. Active exercise might have + removed this feeling, but my horse by some subtle instinct had long since + given up all ambitious effort, and had lapsed into a dogged trot. + </p> + <p> + It was autumn, but not the season suggested to the Atlantic reader under + that title. The sharply defined boundaries of the wet and dry seasons were + prefigured in the clear outlines of the distant hills. In the dry + atmosphere the decay of vegetation was too rapid for the slow hectic which + overtakes an Eastern landscape, or else Nature was too practical for such + thin disguises. She merely turned the Hippocratic face to the spectator, + with the old diagnosis of Death in her sharp, contracted features. + </p> + <p> + In the contemplation of such a prospect there was little to excite any but + a morbid fancy. There were no clouds in the flinty blue heavens, and the + setting of the sun was accompanied with as little ostentation as was + consistent with the dryly practical atmosphere. Darkness soon followed, + with a rising wind, which increased as the shadows deepened on the plain. + The fringe of alder by the watercourse began to loom up as I urged my + horse forward. A half-hour's active spurring brought me to a corral, and a + little beyond a house, so low and broad it seemed at first sight to be + half-buried in the earth. + </p> + <p> + My second impression was that it had grown out of the soil, like some + monstrous vegetable, its dreary proportions were so in keeping with the + vast prospect. There were no recesses along its roughly boarded walls for + vagrant and unprofitable shadows to lurk in the daily sunshine. No + projection for the wind by night to grow musical over, to wail, whistle, + or whisper to; only a long wooden shelf containing a chilly-looking tin + basin and a bar of soap. Its uncurtained windows were red with the sinking + sun, as though bloodshot and inflamed from a too-long unlidded existence. + The tracks of cattle led to its front door, firmly closed against the + rattling wind. + </p> + <p> + To avoid being confounded with this familiar element, I walked to the rear + of the house, which was connected with a smaller building by a slight + platform. A grizzled, hard-faced old man was standing there, and met my + salutation with a look of inquiry, and, without speaking, led the way to + the principal room. As I entered, four young men who were reclining by the + fire slightly altered their attitudes of perfect repose, but beyond that + betrayed neither curiosity nor interest. A hound started from a dark + corner with a growl, but was immediately kicked by the old man into + obscurity, and silenced again. I can't tell why, but I instantly received + the impression that for a long time the group by the fire had not uttered + a word or moved a muscle. Taking a seat, I briefly stated my business. + </p> + <p> + Was a United States surveyor. Had come on account of the Espiritu Santo + Rancho. Wanted to correct the exterior boundaries of township lines, so as + to connect with the near exteriors of private grants. There had been some + intervention to the old survey by a Mr. Tryan who had preempted adjacent—“settled + land warrants,” interrupted the old man. “Ah, yes! Land warrants—and + then this was Mr. Tryan?” + </p> + <p> + I had spoken mechanically, for I was preoccupied in connecting other + public lines with private surveys as I looked in his face. It was + certainly a hard face, and reminded me of the singular effect of that + mining operation known as “ground sluicing”; the harder lines of + underlying character were exposed, and what were once plastic curves and + soft outlines were obliterated by some powerful agency. + </p> + <p> + There was a dryness in his voice not unlike the prevailing atmosphere of + the valley, as he launched into an EX PARTE statement of the contest, with + a fluency, which, like the wind without, showed frequent and unrestrained + expression. He told me—what I had already learned—that the + boundary line of the old Spanish grant was a creek, described in the loose + phraseology of the DESENO as beginning in the VALDA or skirt of the hill, + its precise location long the subject of litigation. I listened and + answered with little interest, for my mind was still distracted by the + wind which swept violently by the house, as well as by his odd face, which + was again reflected in the resemblance that the silent group by the fire + bore toward him. He was still talking, and the wind was yet blowing, when + my confused attention was aroused by a remark addressed to the recumbent + figures. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, which on ye'll see the stranger up the creek to Altascar's, + tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + There was a general movement of opposition in the group, but no decided + answer. + </p> + <p> + “Kin you go, Kerg?” + </p> + <p> + “Who's to look up stock in Strarberry perar-ie?” + </p> + <p> + This seemed to imply a negative, and the old man turned to another + hopeful, who was pulling the fur from a mangy bearskin on which he was + lying, with an expression as though it were somebody's hair. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Tom, wot's to hinder you from goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Mam's goin' to Brown's store at sunup, and I s'pose I've got to pack her + and the baby agin.” + </p> + <p> + I think the expression of scorn this unfortunate youth exhibited for the + filial duty into which he had been evidently beguiled was one of the + finest things I had ever seen. + </p> + <p> + “Wise?” + </p> + <p> + Wise deigned no verbal reply, but figuratively thrust a worn and patched + boot into the discourse. The old man flushed quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I told ye to get Brown to give you a pair the last time you war down the + river.” + </p> + <p> + “Said he wouldn't without'en order. Said it was like pulling gum teeth to + get the money from you even then.” + </p> + <p> + There was a grim smile at this local hit at the old man's parsimony, and + Wise, who was clearly the privileged wit of the family, sank back in + honorable retirement. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Joe, ef your boots are new, and you aren't pestered with wimmin and + children, p'r'aps you'll go,” said Tryan, with a nervous twitching, + intended for a smile, about a mouth not remarkably mirthful. + </p> + <p> + Tom lifted a pair of bushy eyebrows, and said shortly: + </p> + <p> + “Got no saddle.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's gone of your saddle?” + </p> + <p> + “Kerg, there”—indicating his brother with a look such as Cain might + have worn at the sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “You lie!” returned Kerg, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + Tryan sprang to his feet, seizing the chair, flourishing it around his + head and gazing furiously in the hard young faces which fearlessly met his + own. But it was only for a moment; his arm soon dropped by his side, and a + look of hopeless fatality crossed his face. He allowed me to take the + chair from his hand, and I was trying to pacify him by the assurance that + I required no guide when the irrepressible Wise again lifted his voice: + </p> + <p> + “Theer's George comin'! why don't ye ask him? He'll go and introduce you + to Don Fernandy's darter, too, ef you ain't pertickler.” + </p> + <p> + The laugh which followed this joke, which evidently had some domestic + allusion (the general tendency of rural pleasantry), was followed by a + light step on the platform, and the young man entered. Seeing a stranger + present, he stopped and colored, made a shy salute and colored again, and + then, drawing a box from the corner, sat down, his hands clasped lightly + together and his very handsome bright blue eyes turned frankly on mine. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps I was in a condition to receive the romantic impression he made + upon me, and I took it upon myself to ask his company as guide, and he + cheerfully assented. But some domestic duty called him presently away. + </p> + <p> + The fire gleamed brightly on the hearth, and, no longer resisting the + prevailing influence, I silently watched the spurting flame, listening to + the wind which continually shook the tenement. Besides the one chair which + had acquired a new importance in my eyes, I presently discovered a crazy + table in one corner, with an ink bottle and pen; the latter in that greasy + state of decomposition peculiar to country taverns and farmhouses. A + goodly array of rifles and double-barreled guns stocked the corner; half a + dozen saddles and blankets lay near, with a mild flavor of the horse about + them. Some deer and bear skins completed the inventory. As I sat there, + with the silent group around me, the shadowy gloom within and the dominant + wind without, I found it difficult to believe I had ever known a different + existence. My profession had often led me to wilder scenes, but rarely + among those whose unrestrained habits and easy unconsciousness made me + feel so lonely and uncomfortable I shrank closer to myself, not without + grave doubts—which I think occur naturally to people in like + situations—that this was the general rule of humanity and I was a + solitary and somewhat gratuitous exception. It was a relief when a laconic + announcement of supper by a weak-eyed girl caused a general movement in + the family. We walked across the dark platform, which led to another + low-ceiled room. Its entire length was occupied by a table, at the farther + end of which a weak-eyed woman was already taking her repast as she at the + same time gave nourishment to a weak-eyed baby. As the formalities of + introduction had been dispensed with, and as she took no notice of me, I + was enabled to slip into a seat without discomposing or interrupting her. + Tryan extemporized a grace, and the attention of the family became + absorbed in bacon, potatoes, and dried apples. + </p> + <p> + The meal was a sincere one. Gentle gurglings at the upper end of the table + often betrayed the presence of the “wellspring of pleasure.” The + conversation generally referred to the labors of the day, and comparing + notes as to the whereabouts of missing stock. Yet the supper was such a + vast improvement upon the previous intellectual feast that when a chance + allusion of mine to the business of my visit brought out the elder Tryan, + the interest grew quite exciting. I remember he inveighed bitterly against + the system of ranch-holding by the “greasers,” as he was pleased to term + the native Californians. As the same ideas have been sometimes advanced + under more pretentious circumstances they may be worthy of record. + </p> + <p> + “Look at 'em holdin' the finest grazin' land that ever lay outer doors. + Whar's the papers for it? Was it grants? Mighty fine grants—most of + 'em made arter the 'Merrikans got possession. More fools the 'Merrikans + for lettin' 'em hold 'em. Wat paid for 'em? 'Merrikan and blood money. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't they oughter have suthin' out of their native country? Wot for? + Did they ever improve? Got a lot of yaller-skinned diggers, not so + sensible as niggers to look arter stock, and they a sittin' home and + smokin'. With their gold and silver candlesticks, and missions, and + crucifixens, priests and graven idols, and sich? Them sort things wurent + allowed in Mizzoori.” + </p> + <p> + At the mention of improvements, I involuntarily lifted my eyes, and met + the half laughing, half embarrassed look of George. The act did not escape + detection, and I had at once the satisfaction of seeing that the rest of + the family had formed an offensive alliance against us. + </p> + <p> + “It was agin Nater, and agin God,” added Tryan. “God never intended gold + in the rocks to be made into heathen candlesticks and crucifixens. That's + why he sent 'Merrikans here. Nater never intended such a climate for lazy + lopers. She never gin six months' sunshine to be slept and smoked away.” + </p> + <p> + How long he continued and with what further illustration I could not say, + for I took an early opportunity to escape to the sitting-room. I was soon + followed by George, who called me to an open door leading to a smaller + room, and pointed to a bed. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better sleep there tonight,” he said; “you'll be more comfortable, + and I'll call you early.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, and would have asked him several questions which were then + troubling me, but he shyly slipped to the door and vanished. + </p> + <p> + A shadow seemed to fall on the room when he had gone. The “boys” returned, + one by one, and shuffled to their old places. A larger log was thrown on + the fire, and the huge chimney glowed like a furnace, but it did not seem + to melt or subdue a single line of the hard faces that it lit. In half an + hour later, the furs which had served as chairs by day undertook the + nightly office of mattresses, and each received its owner's full-length + figure. Mr. Tryan had not returned, and I missed George. I sat there + until, wakeful and nervous, I saw the fire fall and shadows mount the + wall. There was no sound but the rushing of the wind and the snoring of + the sleepers. At last, feeling the place insupportable, I seized my hat + and opening the door, ran out briskly into the night. + </p> + <p> + The acceleration of my torpid pulse in the keen fight with the wind, whose + violence was almost equal to that of a tornado, and the familiar faces of + the bright stars above me, I felt as a blessed relief. I ran not knowing + whither, and when I halted, the square outline of the house was lost in + the alder bushes. An uninterrupted plain stretched before me, like a vast + sea beaten flat by the force of the gale. As I kept on I noticed a slight + elevation toward the horizon, and presently my progress was impeded by the + ascent of an Indian mound. It struck me forcibly as resembling an island + in the sea. Its height gave me a better view of the expanding plain. But + even here I found no rest. The ridiculous interpretation Tryan had given + the climate was somehow sung in my ears, and echoed in my throbbing pulse + as, guided by the star, I sought the house again. + </p> + <p> + But I felt fresher and more natural as I stepped upon the platform. The + door of the lower building was open, and the old man was sitting beside + the table, thumbing the leaves of a Bible with a look in his face as + though he were hunting up prophecies against the “Greaser.” I turned to + enter, but my attention was attracted by a blanketed figure lying beside + the house, on the platform. The broad chest heaving with healthy slumber, + and the open, honest face were familiar. It was George, who had given up + his bed to the stranger among his people. I was about to wake him, but he + lay so peaceful and quiet, I felt awed and hushed. And I went to bed with + a pleasant impression of his handsome face and tranquil figure soothing me + to sleep. + </p> + <p> + I was awakened the next morning from a sense of lulled repose and grateful + silence by the cheery voice of George, who stood beside my bed, + ostentatiously twirling a riata, as if to recall the duties of the day to + my sleep-bewildered eyes. I looked around me. The wind had been magically + laid, and the sun shone warmly through the windows. A dash of cold water, + with an extra chill on from the tin basin, helped to brighten me. It was + still early, but the family had already breakfasted and dispersed, and a + wagon winding far in the distance showed that the unfortunate Tom had + already “packed” his relatives away. I felt more cheerful—there are + few troubles Youth cannot distance with the start of a good night's rest. + After a substantial breakfast, prepared by George, in a few moments we + were mounted and dashing down the plain. + </p> + <p> + We followed the line of alder that defined the creek, now dry and baked + with summer's heat, but which in winter, George told me, overflowed its + banks. I still retain a vivid impression of that morning's ride, the + far-off mountains, like silhouettes, against the steel-blue sky, the crisp + dry air, and the expanding track before me, animated often by the + well-knit figure of George Tryan, musical with jingling spurs and + picturesque with flying riata. He rode powerful native roan, wild-eyed, + untiring in stride and unbroken in nature. Alas! the curves of beauty were + concealed by the cumbrous MACHILLAS of the Spanish saddle, which levels + all equine distinctions. The single rein lay loosely on the cruel bit that + can gripe, and if need be, crush the jaw it controls. + </p> + <p> + Again the illimitable freedom of the valley rises before me, as we again + bear down into sunlit space. Can this be “Chu Chu,” staid and respectable + filly of American pedigree—Chu Chu, forgetful of plank roads and + cobblestones, wild with excitement, twinkling her small white feet beneath + me? George laughs out of a cloud of dust. “Give her her head; don't you + see she likes it?” and Chu Chu seems to like it, and whether bitten by + native tarantula into native barbarism or emulous of the roan, “blood” + asserts itself, and in a moment the peaceful servitude of years is beaten + out in the music of her clattering hoofs. The creek widens to a deep + gully. We dive into it and up on the opposite side, carrying a moving + cloud of impalpable powder with us. Cattle are scattered over the plain, + grazing quietly or banded together in vast restless herds. George makes a + wide, indefinite sweep with the riata, as if to include them all in his + vaquero's loop, and says, “Ours!” + </p> + <p> + “About how many, George?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “How many?” + </p> + <p> + “'Well, p'r'aps three thousand head,” says George, reflecting. “We don't + know, takes five men to look 'em up and keep run.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they worth?” + </p> + <p> + “About thirty dollars a head.” + </p> + <p> + I make a rapid calculation, and look my astonishment at the laughing + George. Perhaps a recollection of the domestic economy of the Tryan + household is expressed in that look, for George averts his eye and says, + apologetically: + </p> + <p> + “I've tried to get the old man to sell and build, but you know he says it + ain't no use to settle down, just yet. We must keep movin'. In fact, he + built the shanty for that purpose, lest titles should fall through, and + we'd have to get up and move stakes further down.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly his quick eye detects some unusual sight in a herd we are + passing, and with an exclamation he puts his roan into the center of the + mass. I follow, or rather Chu Chu darts after the roan, and in a few + moments we are in the midst of apparently inextricable horns and hoofs. + “TORO!” shouts George, with vaquero enthusiasm, and the band opens a way + for the swinging riata. I can feel their steaming breaths, and their spume + is cast on Chu Chu's quivering flank. + </p> + <p> + Wild, devilish-looking beasts are they; not such shapes as Jove might have + chosen to woo a goddess, nor such as peacefully range the downs of Devon, + but lean and hungry Cassius-like bovines, economically got up to meet the + exigencies of a six months' rainless climate, and accustomed to wrestle + with the distracting wind and the blinding dust. + </p> + <p> + “That's not our brand,” says George; “they're strange stock,” and he + points to what my scientific eye recognizes as the astrological sign of + Venus deeply seared in the brown flanks of the bull he is chasing. But the + herd are closing round us with low mutterings, and George has again + recourse to the authoritative “TORO,” and with swinging riata divides the + “bossy bucklers” on either side. When we are free, and breathing somewhat + more easily, I venture to ask George if they ever attack anyone. + </p> + <p> + “Never horsemen—sometimes footmen. Not through rage, you know, but + curiosity. They think a man and his horse are one, and if they meet a chap + afoot, they run him down and trample him under hoof, in the pursuit of + knowledge. But,” adds George, “here's the lower bench of the foothills, + and here's Altascar's corral, and that White building you see yonder is + the casa.” + </p> + <p> + A whitewashed wall enclosed a court containing another adobe building, + baked with the solar beams of many summers. Leaving our horses in the + charge of a few peons in the courtyard, who were basking lazily in the + sun, we entered a low doorway, where a deep shadow and an agreeable + coolness fell upon us, as sudden and grateful as a plunge in cool water, + from its contrast with the external glare and heat. In the center of a + low-ceiled apartment sat an old man with a black-silk handkerchief tied + about his head, the few gray hairs that escaped from its folds relieving + his gamboge-colored face. The odor of CIGARRITOS was as incense added to + the cathedral gloom of the building. + </p> + <p> + As Senor Altascar rose with well-bred gravity to receive us, George + advanced with such a heightened color, and such a blending of tenderness + and respect in his manner, that I was touched to the heart by so much + devotion in the careless youth. In fact, my eyes were still dazzled by the + effect of the outer sunshine, and at first I did not see the white teeth + and black eyes of Pepita, who slipped into the corridor as we entered. + </p> + <p> + It was no pleasant matter to disclose particulars of business which would + deprive the old senor of the greater part of that land we had just ridden + over, and I did it with great embarrassment. But he listened calmly—not + a muscle of his dark face stirring—and the smoke curling placidly + from his lips showed his regular respiration. When I had finished, he + offered quietly to accompany us to the line of demarcation. George had + meanwhile disappeared, but a suspicious conversation in broken Spanish and + English, in the corridor, betrayed his vicinity. When he returned again, a + little absent-minded, the old man, by far the coolest and most + self-possessed of the party, extinguished his black-silk cap beneath that + stiff, uncomely sombrero which all native Californians affect. A serape + thrown over his shoulders hinted that he was waiting. Horses are always + ready saddled in Spanish ranchos, and in half an hour from the time of our + arrival we were again “loping” in the staring sunlight. + </p> + <p> + But not as cheerfully as before. George and myself were weighed down by + restraint, and Altascar was gravely quiet. To break the silence, and by + way of a consolatory essay, I hinted to him that there might be further + intervention or appeal, but the proffered oil and wine were returned with + a careless shrug of the shoulders and a sententious “QUE BUENO?—Your + courts are always just.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian mound of the previous night's discovery was a bearing monument + of the new line, and there we halted. We were surprised to find the old + man Tryan waiting us. For the first time during our interview the old + Spaniard seemed moved, and the blood rose in his yellow cheek. I was + anxious to close the scene, and pointed out the corner boundaries as + clearly as my recollection served. + </p> + <p> + “The deputies will be here tomorrow to run the lines from this initial + point, and there will be no further trouble, I believe, gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + Senor Altascar had dismounted and was gathering a few tufts of dried grass + in his hands. George and I exchanged glances. He presently arose from his + stooping posture, and advancing to within a few paces of Joseph Tryan, + said, in a voice broken with passion: + </p> + <p> + “And I, Fernando Jesus Maria Altascar, put you in possession of my land in + the fashion of my country.” + </p> + <p> + He threw a sod to each of the cardinal points. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know your courts, your judges, or your CORREGIDORES. Take the + LLANO!—and take this with it. May the drought seize your cattle till + their tongues hang down as long as those of your lying lawyers! May it be + the curse and torment of your old age, as you and yours have made it of + mine!” + </p> + <p> + We stepped between the principal actors in this scene, which only the + passion of Altascar made tragical, but Tryan, with a humility but ill + concealing his triumph, interrupted: + </p> + <p> + “Let him curse on. He'll find 'em coming home to him sooner than the + cattle he has lost through his sloth and pride. The Lord is on the side of + the just, as well as agin all slanderers and revilers.” + </p> + <p> + Altascar but half guessed the meaning of the Missourian, yet sufficiently + to drive from his mind all but the extravagant power of his native + invective. + </p> + <p> + “Stealer of the Sacrament! Open not!—open not, I say, your lying, + Judas lips to me! Ah! half-breed, with the soul of a coyote!—car-r-r-ramba!” + </p> + <p> + With his passion reverberating among the consonants like distant thunder, + he laid his hand upon the mane of his horse as though it had been the gray + locks of his adversary, swung himself into the saddle and galloped away. + </p> + <p> + George turned to me: + </p> + <p> + “Will you go back with us tonight?” + </p> + <p> + I thought of the cheerless walls, the silent figures by the fire, and the + roaring wind, and hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Well then, goodby.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodby, George.” + </p> + <p> + Another wring of the hands, and we parted. I had not ridden far when I + turned and looked back. The wind had risen early that afternoon, and was + already sweeping across the plain. A cloud of dust traveled before it, and + a picturesque figure occasionally emerging therefrom was my last + indistinct impression of George Tryan. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART_"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II—IN THE FLOOD + </h2> + <p> + Three months after the survey of the Espiritu Santo Rancho, I was again in + the valley of the Sacramento. But a general and terrible visitation had + erased the memory of that event as completely as I supposed it had + obliterated the boundary monuments I had planted. The great flood of + 1861-62 was at its height when, obeying some indefinite yearning, I took + my carpetbag and embarked for the inundated valley. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to be seen from the bright cabin windows of the GOLDEN + CITY but night deepening over the water. The only sound was the pattering + rain, and that had grown monotonous for the past two weeks, and did not + disturb the national gravity of my countrymen as they silently sat around + the cabin stove. Some on errands of relief to friends and relatives wore + anxious faces, and conversed soberly on the one absorbing topic. Others, + like myself, attracted by curiosity listened eagerly to newer details. But + with that human disposition to seize upon any circumstance that might give + chance event the exaggerated importance of instinct, I was half-conscious + of something more than curiosity as an impelling motive. + </p> + <p> + The dripping of rain, the low gurgle of water, and a leaden sky greeted us + the next morning as we lay beside the half-submerged levee of Sacramento. + Here, however, the novelty of boats to convey us to the hotels was an + appeal that was irresistible. I resigned myself to a dripping rubber-cased + mariner called “Joe,” and, wrapping myself in a shining cloak of the like + material, about as suggestive of warmth as court plaster might have been, + took my seat in the stern sheets of his boat. It was no slight inward + struggle to part from the steamer that to most of the passengers was the + only visible connecting link between us and the dry and habitable earth, + but we pulled away and entered the city, stemming a rapid current as we + shot the levee. + </p> + <p> + We glided up the long level of K Street—once a cheerful, busy + thoroughfare, now distressing in its silent desolation. The turbid water + which seemed to meet the horizon edge before us flowed at right angles in + sluggish rivers through the streets. Nature had revenged herself on the + local taste by disarraying the regular rectangles by huddling houses on + street corners, where they presented abrupt gables to the current, or by + capsizing them in compact ruin. Crafts of all kinds were gliding in and + out of low-arched doorways. The water was over the top of the fences + surrounding well-kept gardens, in the first stories of hotels and private + dwellings, trailing its slime on velvet carpets as well as roughly boarded + floors. And a silence quite as suggestive as the visible desolation was in + the voiceless streets that no longer echoed to carriage wheel or footfall. + The low ripple of water, the occasional splash of oars, or the warning cry + of boatmen were the few signs of life and habitation. + </p> + <p> + With such scenes before my eyes and such sounds in my ears, as I lie + lazily in the boat, is mingled the song of my gondolier who sings to the + music of his oars. It is not quite as romantic as his brother of the Lido + might improvise, but my Yankee “Giuseppe” has the advantage of earnestness + and energy, and gives a graphic description of the terrors of the past + week and of noble deeds of self-sacrifice and devotion, occasionally + pointing out a balcony from which some California Bianca or Laura had been + snatched, half-clothed and famished. Giuseppe is otherwise peculiar, and + refuses the proffered fare, for—am I not a citizen of San Francisco, + which was first to respond to the suffering cry of Sacramento? and is not + he, Giuseppe, a member of the Howard Society? No! Giuseppe is poor, but + cannot take my money. Still, if I must spend it, there is the Howard + Society, and the women and children without food and clothes at the + Agricultural Hall. + </p> + <p> + I thank the generous gondolier, and we go to the Hall—a dismal, + bleak place, ghastly with the memories of last year's opulence and plenty, + and here Giuseppe's fare is swelled by the stranger's mite. But here + Giuseppe tells me of the “Relief Boat” which leaves for the flooded + district in the interior, and here, profiting by the lesson he has taught + me, I make the resolve to turn my curiosity to the account of others, and + am accepted of those who go forth to succor and help the afflicted. + Giuseppe takes charge of my carpetbag, and does not part from me until I + stand on the slippery deck of “Relief Boat No. 3.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later I am in the pilothouse, looking down upon what was once the + channel of a peaceful river. But its banks are only defined by tossing + tufts of willow washed by the long swell that breaks over a vast inland + sea. Stretches of “tule” land fertilized by its once regular channel and + dotted by flourishing ranchos are now cleanly erased. The cultivated + profile of the old landscape had faded. Dotted lines in symmetrical + perspective mark orchards that are buried and chilled in the turbid flood. + The roofs of a few farmhouses are visible, and here and there the smoke + curling from chimneys of half-submerged tenements shows an undaunted life + within. Cattle and sheep are gathered on Indian mounds waiting the fate of + their companions whose carcasses drift by us, or swing in eddies with the + wrecks of barns and outhouses. Wagons are stranded everywhere where the + tide could carry them. As I wipe the moistened glass, I see nothing but + water, pattering on the deck from the lowering clouds, dashing against the + window, dripping from the willows, hissing by the wheels, everywhere + washing, coiling, sapping, hurrying in rapids, or swelling at last into + deeper and vaster lakes, awful in their suggestive quiet and concealment. + </p> + <p> + As day fades into night the monotony of this strange prospect grows + oppressive. I seek the engine room, and in the company of some of the few + half-drowned sufferers we have already picked up from temporary rafts, I + forget the general aspect of desolation in their individual misery. Later + we meet the San Francisco packet, and transfer a number of our passengers. + From them we learn how inward-bound vessels report to have struck the + well-defined channel of the Sacramento, fifty miles beyond the bar. There + is a voluntary contribution taken among the generous travelers for the use + of our afflicted, and we part company with a hearty “Godspeed” on either + side. But our signal lights are not far distant before a familiar sound + comes back to us—an indomitable Yankee cheer—which scatters + the gloom. + </p> + <p> + Our course is altered, and we are steaming over the obliterated banks far + in the interior. Once or twice black objects loom up near us—the + wrecks of houses floating by. There is a slight rift in the sky toward the + north, and a few bearing stars to guide us over the waste. As we penetrate + into shallower water, it is deemed advisable to divide our party into + smaller boats, and diverge over the submerged prairie. I borrow a peacoat + of one of the crew, and in that practical disguise am doubtfully permitted + to pass into one of the boats. We give way northerly. It is quite dark + yet, although the rift of cloud has widened. + </p> + <p> + It must have been about three o'clock, and we were lying upon our oars in + an eddy formed by a clump of cottonwood, and the light of the steamer is a + solitary, bright star in the distance, when the silence is broken by the + “bow oar”: + </p> + <p> + “Light ahead.” + </p> + <p> + All eyes are turned in that direction. In a few seconds a twinkling light + appears, shines steadily, and again disappears as if by the shifting + position of some black object apparently drifting close upon us. + </p> + <p> + “Stern, all; a steamer!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold hard there! Steamer be damned!” is the reply of the coxswain. “It's + a house, and a big one too.” + </p> + <p> + It is a big one, looming in the starlight like a huge fragment of the + darkness. The light comes from a single candle, which shines through a + window as the great shape swings by. Some recollection is drifting back to + me with it as I listen with beating heart. + </p> + <p> + “There's someone in it, by heavens! Give way, boys—lay her + alongside. Handsomely, now! The door's fastened; try the window; no! + here's another!” + </p> + <p> + In another moment we are trampling in the water which washes the floor to + the depth of several inches. It is a large room, at the farther end of + which an old man is sitting wrapped in a blanket, holding a candle in one + hand, and apparently absorbed in the book he holds with the other. I + spring toward him with an exclamation: + </p> + <p> + “Joseph Tryan!” + </p> + <p> + He does not move. We gather closer to him, and I lay my hand gently on his + shoulder, and say: + </p> + <p> + “Look up, old man, look up! Your wife and children, where are they? The + boys—George! Are they here? are they safe?” + </p> + <p> + He raises his head slowly, and turns his eyes to mine, and we + involuntarily recoil before his look. It is a calm and quiet glance, free + from fear, anger, or pain; but it somehow sends the blood curdling through + our veins. He bowed his head over his book again, taking no further notice + of us. The men look at me compassionately, and hold their peace. I make + one more effort: + </p> + <p> + “Joseph Tryan, don't you know me? the surveyor who surveyed your ranch—the + Espiritu Santo? Look up, old man!” + </p> + <p> + He shuddered and wrapped himself closer in his blanket. Presently he + repeated to himself “The surveyor who surveyed your ranch—Espiritu + Santo” over and over again, as though it were a lesson he was trying to + fix in his memory. + </p> + <p> + I was turning sadly to the boatmen when he suddenly caught me fearfully by + the hand and said: + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” + </p> + <p> + We were silent. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” He puts his arm around my neck and whispers in my ear, “I'm a + MOVING OFF!” + </p> + <p> + “Moving off?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Don't speak so loud. Moving off. Ah! wot's that? Don't you hear?—there! + listen!” + </p> + <p> + We listen, and hear the water gurgle and click beneath the floor. + </p> + <p> + “It's them wot he sent!—Old Altascar sent. They've been here all + night. I heard 'em first in the creek, when they came to tell the old man + to move farther off. They came nearer and nearer. They whispered under the + door, and I saw their eyes on the step—their cruel, hard eyes. Ah, + why don't they quit?” + </p> + <p> + I tell the men to search the room and see if they can find any further + traces of the family, while Tryan resumes his old attitude. It is so much + like the figure I remember on the breezy night that a superstitious + feeling is fast overcoming me. When they have returned, I tell them + briefly what I know of him, and the old man murmurs again: + </p> + <p> + “Why don't they quit, then? They have the stock—all gone—gone, + gone for the hides and hoofs,” and he groans bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “There are other boats below us. The shanty cannot have drifted far, and + perhaps the family are safe by this time,” says the coxswain, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + We lift the old man up, for he is quite helpless, and carry him to the + boat. He is still grasping the Bible in his right hand, though its + strengthening grace is blank to his vacant eye, and he cowers in the stern + as we pull slowly to the steamer while a pale gleam in the sky shows the + coming day. + </p> + <p> + I was weary with excitement, and when we reached the steamer, and I had + seen Joseph Tryan comfortably bestowed, I wrapped myself in a blanket near + the boiler and presently fell asleep. But even then the figure of the old + man often started before me, and a sense of uneasiness about George made a + strong undercurrent to my drifting dreams. I was awakened at about eight + o'clock in the morning by the engineer, who told me one of the old man's + sons had been picked up and was now on board. + </p> + <p> + “Is it George Tryan?” I ask quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know; but he's a sweet one, whoever he is,” adds the engineer, with + a smile at some luscious remembrance. “You'll find him for'ard.” + </p> + <p> + I hurry to the bow of the boat, and find, not George, but the + irrepressible Wise, sitting on a coil of rope, a little dirtier and rather + more dilapidated than I can remember having seen him. + </p> + <p> + He is examining, with apparent admiration, some rough, dry clothes that + have been put out for his disposal. I cannot help thinking that + circumstances have somewhat exalted his usual cheerfulness. He puts me at + my ease by at once addressing me: + </p> + <p> + “These are high old times, ain't they? I say, what do you reckon's become + o' them thar bound'ry moniments you stuck? Ah!” + </p> + <p> + The pause which succeeds this outburst is the effect of a spasm of + admiration at a pair of high boots, which, by great exertion, he has at + last pulled on his feet. + </p> + <p> + “So you've picked up the ole man in the shanty, clean crazy? He must have + been soft to have stuck there instead o' leavin' with the old woman. + Didn't know me from Adam; took me for George!” + </p> + <p> + At this affecting instance of paternal forgetfulness, Wise was evidently + divided between amusement and chagrin. I took advantage of the contending + emotions to ask about George. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know whar he is! If he'd tended stock instead of running about the + prairie, packin' off wimmin and children, he might have saved suthin. He + lost every hoof and hide, I'll bet a cooky! Say you,” to a passing + boatman, “when are you goin' to give us some grub? I'm hungry 'nough to + skin and eat a hoss. Reckon I'll turn butcher when things is dried up, and + save hides, horns, and taller.” + </p> + <p> + I could not but admire this indomitable energy, which under softer + climatic influences might have borne such goodly fruit. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any idea what you'll do, Wise?” I ask. + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't much to do now,” says the practical young man. “I'll have to + lay over a spell, I reckon, till things comes straight. The land ain't + worth much now, and won't be, I dessay, for some time. Wonder whar the ole + man'll drive stakes next.” + </p> + <p> + “I meant as to your father and George, Wise.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the old man and I'll go on to 'Miles's,' whar Tom packed the old + woman and babies last week. George'll turn up somewhar atween this and + Altascar's ef he ain't thar now.” + </p> + <p> + I ask how the Altascars have suffered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I reckon he ain't lost much in stock. I shouldn't wonder if George + helped him drive 'em up the foothills. And his casa's built too high. Oh, + thar ain't any water thar, you bet. Ah,” says Wise, with reflective + admiration, “those greasers ain't the darned fools people thinks 'em. I'll + bet thar ain't one swamped out in all 'er Californy.” But the appearance + of “grub” cut this rhapsody short. + </p> + <p> + “I shall keep on a little farther,” I say, “and try to find George.” + </p> + <p> + Wise stared a moment at this eccentricity until a new light dawned upon + him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you'll save much. What's the percentage—workin' on + shares, eh!” + </p> + <p> + I answer that I am only curious, which I feel lessens his opinion of me, + and with a sadder feeling than his assurance of George's safety might + warrant, I walked away. + </p> + <p> + From others whom we picked up from time to time we heard of George's + self-sacrificing devotion, with the praises of the many he had helped and + rescued. But I did not feel disposed to return until I had seen him, and + soon prepared myself to take a boat to the lower VALDA of the foothills, + and visit Altascar. I soon perfected my arrangements, bade farewell to + Wise, and took a last look at the old man, who was sitting by the furnace + fires quite passive and composed. Then our boat head swung round, pulled + by sturdy and willing hands. + </p> + <p> + It was again raining, and a disagreeable wind had risen. Our course lay + nearly west, and we soon knew by the strong current that we were in the + creek of the Espiritu Santo. From time to time the wrecks of barns were + seen, and we passed many half-submerged willows hung with farming + implements. + </p> + <p> + We emerge at last into a broad silent sea. It is the “LLANO DE ESPIRITU + SANTO.” As the wind whistles by me, piling the shallower fresh water into + mimic waves, I go back, in fancy, to the long ride of October over that + boundless plain, and recall the sharp outlines of the distant hills, which + are now lost in the lowering clouds. The men are rowing silently, and I + find my mind, released from its tension, growing benumbed and depressed as + then. The water, too, is getting more shallow as we leave the banks of the + creek, and with my hand dipped listlessly over the thwarts, I detect the + tops of chimisal, which shows the tide to have somewhat fallen. There is a + black mound, bearing to the north of the line of alder, making an adverse + current, which, as we sweep to the right to avoid, I recognize. We pull + close alongside and I call to the men to stop. + </p> + <p> + There was a stake driven near its summit with the initials, “L. E. S. I.” + Tied halfway down was a curiously worked riata. It was George's. It had + been cut with some sharp instrument, and the loose gravelly soil of the + mound was deeply dented with horses' hoofs. The stake was covered with + horsehairs. It was a record, but no clue. + </p> + <p> + The wind had grown more violent as we still fought our way forward, + resting and rowing by turns, and oftener “poling” the shallower surface, + but the old VALDA, or bench, is still distant. My recollection of the old + survey enables me to guess the relative position of the meanderings of the + creek, and an occasional simple professional experiment to determine the + distance gives my crew the fullest faith in my ability. Night overtakes us + in our impeded progress. Our condition looks more dangerous than it really + is, but I urge the men, many of whom are still new in this mode of + navigation, to greater exertion by assurance of perfect safety and speedy + relief ahead. We go on in this way until about eight o'clock, and ground + by the willows. We have a muddy walk for a few hundred yards before we + strike a dry trail, and simultaneously the white walls of Altascar's + appear like a snowbank before us. Lights are moving in the courtyard; but + otherwise the old tomblike repose characterizes the building. + </p> + <p> + One of the peons recognized me as I entered the court, and Altascar met me + on the corridor. + </p> + <p> + I was too weak to do more than beg his hospitality for the men who had + dragged wearily with me. He looked at my hand, which still unconsciously + held the broken riata. I began, wearily, to tell him about George and my + fears, but with a gentler courtesy than was even his wont, he gravely laid + his hand on my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “POCO A POCO, senor—not now. You are tired, you have hunger, you + have cold. Necessary it is you should have peace.” + </p> + <p> + He took us into a small room and poured out some French cognac, which he + gave to the men that had accompanied me. They drank and threw themselves + before the fire in the larger room. The repose of the building was + intensified that night, and I even fancied that the footsteps on the + corridor were lighter and softer. The old Spaniard's habitual gravity was + deeper; we might have been shut out from the world as well as the + whistling storm, behind those ancient walls with their time-worn + inheritor. + </p> + <p> + Before I could repeat my inquiry he retired. In a few minutes two smoking + dishes of CHUPA with coffee were placed before us, and my men ate + ravenously. I drank the coffee, but my excitement and weariness kept down + the instincts of hunger. + </p> + <p> + I was sitting sadly by the fire when he reentered. + </p> + <p> + “You have eat?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Yes,” to please him. + </p> + <p> + “BUENO, eat when you can—food and appetite are not always.” + </p> + <p> + He said this with that Sancho-like simplicity with which most of his + countrymen utter a proverb, as though it were an experience rather than a + legend, and, taking the riata from the floor, held it almost tenderly + before him. + </p> + <p> + “It was made by me, senor.” + </p> + <p> + “I kept it as a clue to him, Don Altascar,” I said. “If I could find him—” + </p> + <p> + “He is here.” + </p> + <p> + “Here! and”—but I could not say “well!” I understood the gravity of + the old man's face, the hushed footfalls, the tomblike repose of the + building, in an electric flash of consciousness; I held the clue to the + broken riata at last. Altascar took my hand, and we crossed the corridor + to a somber apartment. A few tall candles were burning in sconces before + the window. + </p> + <p> + In an alcove there was a deep bed with its counterpane, pillows, and + sheets heavily edged with lace, in all that splendid luxury which the + humblest of these strange people lavish upon this single item of their + household. I stepped beside it and saw George lying, as I had seen him + once before, peacefully at rest. But a greater sacrifice than that he had + known was here, and his generous heart was stilled forever. + </p> + <p> + “He was honest and brave,” said the old man, and turned away. There was + another figure in the room; a heavy shawl drawn over her graceful outline, + and her long black hair hiding the hands that buried her downcast face. I + did not seem to notice her, and, retiring presently, left the loving and + loved together. + </p> + <p> + When we were again beside the crackling fire, in the shifting shadows of + the great chamber, Altascar told me how he had that morning met the horse + of George Tryan swimming on the prairie; how that, farther on, he found + him lying, quite cold and dead, with no marks or bruises on his person; + that he had probably become exhausted in fording the creek, and that he + had as probably reached the mound only to die for want of that help he had + so freely given to others; that, as a last act, he had freed his horse. + These incidents were corroborated by many who collected in the great + chamber that evening—women and children—most of them succored + through the devoted energies of him who lay cold and lifeless above. + </p> + <p> + He was buried in the Indian mound—the single spot of strange + perennial greenness which the poor aborigines had raised above the dusty + plain. A little slab of sandstone with the initials “G. T.” is his + monument, and one of the bearings of the initial corner of the new survey + of the “Espiritu Santo Rancho.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN EPISODE OF FIDDLETOWN + </h2> + <p> + In 1858 Fiddletown considered her a very pretty woman. She had a quantity + of light chestnut hair, a good figure, a dazzling complexion, and a + certain languid grace which passed easily for gentle-womanliness. She + always dressed becomingly, and in what Fiddletown accepted as the latest + fashion. She had only two blemishes: one of her velvety eyes, when + examined closely, had a slight cast; and her left cheek bore a small scar + left by a single drop of vitriol—happily the only drop of an entire + phial—thrown upon her by one of her own jealous sex, that reached + the pretty face it was intended to mar. But when the observer had studied + the eyes sufficiently to notice this defect, he was generally + incapacitated for criticism; and even the scar on her cheek was thought by + some to add piquancy to her smile. The youthful editor of THE FIDDLETOWN + AVALANCHE had said privately that it was “an exaggerated dimple.” Colonel + Starbottle was instantly “reminded of the beautifying patches of the days + of Queen Anne, but more particularly, sir, of the blankest beautiful women + that, blank you, you ever laid your two blank eyes upon—a Creole + woman, sir, in New Orleans. And this woman had a scar—a line + extending, blank me, from her eye to her blank chin. And this woman, sir, + thrilled you, sir; maddened you, sir; absolutely sent your blank soul to + perdition with her blank fascination! And one day I said to her, 'Celeste, + how in blank did you come by that beautiful scar, blank you?' And she said + to me, 'Star, there isn't another white man that I'd confide in but you; + but I made that scar myself, purposely, I did, blank me.' These were her + very words, sir, and perhaps you think it a blank lie, sir; but I'll put + up any blank sum you can name and prove it, blank me.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, most of the male population of Fiddletown were or had been in love + with her. Of this number, about one-half believed that their love was + returned, with the exception, possibly, of her own husband. He alone had + been known to express skepticism. + </p> + <p> + The name of the gentleman who enjoyed this infelicitous distinction was + Tretherick. He had been divorced from an excellent wife to marry this + Fiddletown enchantress. She, also, had been divorced; but it was hinted + that some previous experiences of hers in that legal formality had made it + perhaps less novel, and probably less sacrificial. I would not have it + inferred from this that she was deficient in sentiment, or devoid of its + highest moral expression. Her intimate friend had written (on the occasion + of her second divorce), “The cold world does not understand Clara yet”; + and Colonel Starbottle had remarked blankly that with the exception of a + single woman in Opelousas Parish, La., she had more soul than the whole + caboodle of them put together. Few indeed could read those lines entitled + “Infelissimus,” commencing “Why waves no cypress o'er this brow?” + originally published in the AVALANCHE, over the signature of “The Lady + Clare,” without feeling the tear of sensibility tremble on his eyelids, or + the glow of virtuous indignation mantle his cheek, at the low brutality + and pitiable jocularity of THE DUTCH FLAT INTELLIGENCER, which the next + week had suggested the exotic character of the cypress, and its entire + absence from Fiddletown, as a reasonable answer to the query. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, it was this tendency to elaborate her feelings in a metrical + manner, and deliver them to the cold world through the medium of the + newspapers, that first attracted the attention of Tretherick. Several + poems descriptive of the effects of California scenery upon a + too-sensitive soul, and of the vague yearnings for the infinite which an + enforced study of the heartlessness of California society produced in the + poetic breast, impressed Mr. Tretherick, who was then driving a six-mule + freight wagon between Knight's Ferry and Stockton, to seek out the unknown + poetess. Mr. Tretherick was himself dimly conscious of a certain hidden + sentiment in his own nature; and it is possible that some reflections on + the vanity of his pursuit—he supplied several mining camps with + whisky and tobacco—in conjunction with the dreariness of the dusty + plain on which he habitually drove, may have touched some chord in + sympathy with this sensitive woman. Howbeit, after a brief courtship—as + brief as was consistent with some previous legal formalities—they + were married; and Mr. Tretherick brought his blushing bride to Fiddletown, + or “Fideletown,” as Mrs. Tretherick preferred to call it in her poems. + </p> + <p> + The union was not a felicitous one. It was not long before Mr. Tretherick + discovered that the sentiment he had fostered while freighting between + Stockton and Knight's Ferry was different from that which his wife had + evolved from the contemplation of California scenery and her own soul. + Being a man of imperfect logic, this caused him to beat her; and she, + being equally faulty in deduction, was impelled to a certain degree of + unfaithfulness on the same premise. Then Mr. Tretherick began to drink, + and Mrs. Tretherick to contribute regularly to the columns of the + AVALANCHE. It was at this time that Colonel Starbottle discovered a + similarity in Mrs. Tretherick's verse to the genius of Sappho, and pointed + it out to the citizens of Fiddletown in a two-columned criticism, signed + “A. S.,” also published in the AVALANCHE, and supported by extensive + quotation. As the AVALANCHE did not possess a font of Greek type, the + editor was obliged to reproduce the Leucadian numbers in the ordinary + Roman letter, to the intense disgust of Colonel Starbottle, and the vast + delight of Fiddletown, who saw fit to accept the text as an excellent + imitation of Choctaw—a language with which the colonel, as a whilom + resident of the Indian Territories, was supposed to be familiar. Indeed, + the next week's INTELLIGENCER contained some vile doggerel supposed to be + an answer to Mrs. Tretherick's poem, ostensibly written by the wife of a + Digger Indian chief, accompanied by a glowing eulogium signed “A. S. S.” + </p> + <p> + The result of this jocularity was briefly given in a later copy of the + AVALANCHE. “An unfortunate rencounter took place on Monday last, between + the Hon. Jackson Flash of THE DUTCH FLAT INTELLIGENCER and the well-known + Col. Starbottle of this place, in front of the Eureka Saloon. Two shots + were fired by the parties without injury to either, although it is said + that a passing Chinaman received fifteen buckshot in the calves of his + legs from the colonel's double-barreled shotgun, which were not intended + for him. John will learn to keep out of the way of Melican man's firearms + hereafter. The cause of the affray is not known, although it is hinted + that there is a lady in the case. The rumor that points to a well-known + and beautiful poetess whose lucubrations have often graced our columns + seems to gain credence from those that are posted.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the passiveness displayed by Tretherick under these trying + circumstances was fully appreciated in the gulches. “The old man's head is + level,” said one long-booted philosopher. “Ef the colonel kills Flash, + Mrs. Tretherick is avenged: if Flash drops the colonel, Tretherick is all + right. Either way, he's got a sure thing.” During this delicate condition + of affairs, Mrs. Tretherick one day left her husband's home and took + refuge at the Fiddletown Hotel, with only the clothes she had on her back. + Here she staid for several weeks, during which period it is only justice + to say that she bore herself with the strictest propriety. + </p> + <p> + It was a clear morning in early spring that Mrs. Tretherick, unattended, + left the hotel, and walked down the narrow street toward the fringe of + dark pines which indicated the extreme limits of Fiddletown. The few + loungers at that early hour were preoccupied with the departure of the + Wingdown coach at the other extremity of the street; and Mrs. Tretherick + reached the suburbs of the settlement without discomposing observation. + Here she took a cross street or road, running at right angles with the + main thoroughfare of Fiddletown and passing through a belt of woodland. It + was evidently the exclusive and aristocratic avenue of the town. The + dwellings were few, ambitious, and uninterrupted by shops. And here she + was joined by Colonel Starbottle. + </p> + <p> + The gallant colonel, notwithstanding that he bore the swelling port which + usually distinguished him, that his coat was tightly buttoned and his + boots tightly fitting, and that his cane, hooked over his arm, swung + jauntily, was not entirely at his ease. Mrs. Tretherick, however, + vouchsafed him a gracious smile and a glance of her dangerous eyes; and + the colonel, with an embarrassed cough and a slight strut, took his place + at her side. + </p> + <p> + “The coast is clear,” said the colonel, “and Tretherick is over at Dutch + Flat on a spree. There is no one in the house but a Chinaman; and you need + fear no trouble from him. I,” he continued, with a slight inflation of the + chest that imperiled the security of his button, “I will see that you are + protected in the removal of your property.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure it's very kind of you, and so disinterested!” simpered the lady + as they walked along. “It's so pleasant to meet someone who has soul—someone + to sympathize with in a community so hardened and heartless as this.” And + Mrs. Tretherick cast down her eyes, but not until they wrought their + perfect and accepted work upon her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly, of course,” said the colonel, glancing nervously up and + down the street—“yes, certainly.” Perceiving, however, that there + was no one in sight or hearing, he proceeded at once to inform Mrs. + Tretherick that the great trouble of his life, in fact, had been the + possession of too much soul. That many women—as a gentleman she + would excuse him, of course, from mentioning names—but many + beautiful women had often sought his society, but being deficient, madam, + absolutely deficient, in this quality, he could not reciprocate. But when + two natures thoroughly in sympathy, despising alike the sordid trammels of + a low and vulgar community and the conventional restraints of a + hypocritical society—when two souls in perfect accord met and + mingled in poetical union, then—but here the colonel's speech, which + had been remarkable for a certain whisky-and-watery fluency, grew husky, + almost inaudible, and decidedly incoherent. Possibly Mrs. Tretherick may + have heard something like it before, and was enabled to fill the hiatus. + Nevertheless, the cheek that was on the side of the colonel was quite + virginal and bashfully conscious until they reached their destination. + </p> + <p> + It was a pretty little cottage, quite fresh and warm with paint, very + pleasantly relieved against a platoon of pines, some of whose foremost + files had been displaced to give freedom to the fenced enclosure in which + it sat. In the vivid sunlight and perfect silence, it had a new, + uninhabited look, as if the carpenters and painters had just left it. At + the farther end of the lot, a Chinaman was stolidly digging; but there was + no other sign of occupancy. “The coast,” as the colonel had said, was + indeed “clear.” Mrs. Tretherick paused at the gate. The colonel would have + entered with her, but was stopped by a gesture. “Come for me in a couple + of hours, and I shall have everything packed,” she said, as she smiled, + and extended her hand. The colonel seized and pressed it with great + fervor. Perhaps the pressure was slightly returned; for the gallant + colonel was impelled to inflate his chest, and trip away as smartly as his + stubby-toed, high-heeled boots would permit. When he had gone, Mrs. + Tretherick opened the door, listened a moment in the deserted hall, and + then ran quickly upstairs to what had been her bedroom. + </p> + <p> + Everything there was unchanged as on the night she left it. On the + dressing-table stood her bandbox, as she remembered to have left it when + she took out her bonnet. On the mantle lay the other glove she had + forgotten in her flight. The two lower drawers of the bureau were + half-open (she had forgotten to shut them); and on its marble top lay her + shawl pin and a soiled cuff. What other recollections came upon her I know + not; but she suddenly grew quite white, shivered, and listened with a + beating heart, and her hand upon the door. Then she stepped to the mirror, + and half-fearfully, half-curiously, parted with her fingers the braids of + her blond hair above her little pink ear, until she came upon an ugly, + half-healed scar. She gazed at this, moving her pretty head up and down to + get a better light upon it, until the slight cast in her velvety eyes + became very strongly marked indeed. Then she turned away with a light, + reckless, foolish laugh, and ran to the closet where hung her precious + dresses. These she inspected nervously, and missing suddenly a favorite + black silk from its accustomed peg, for a moment, thought she should have + fainted. But discovering it the next instant lying upon a trunk where she + had thrown it, a feeling of thankfulness to a superior Being who protects + the friendless for the first time sincerely thrilled her. Then, albeit she + was hurried for time, she could not resist trying the effect of a certain + lavender neck ribbon upon the dress she was then wearing, before the + mirror. And then suddenly she became aware of a child's voice close beside + her, and she stopped. And then the child's voice repeated, “Is it Mamma?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick faced quickly about. Standing in the doorway was a little + girl of six or seven. Her dress had been originally fine, but was torn and + dirty; and her hair, which was a very violent red, was tumbled + seriocomically about her forehead. For all this, she was a picturesque + little thing, even through whose childish timidity there was a certain + self-sustained air which is apt to come upon children who are left much to + themselves. She was holding under her arm a rag doll, apparently of her + own workmanship, and nearly as large as herself—a doll with a + cylindrical head, and features roughly indicated with charcoal. A long + shawl, evidently belonging to a grown person, dropped from her shoulders + and swept the floor. + </p> + <p> + The spectacle did not excite Mrs. Tretherick's delight. Perhaps she had + but a small sense of humor. Certainly, when the child, still standing in + the doorway, again asked, “Is it Mamma?” she answered sharply, “No, it + isn't,” and turned a severe look upon the intruder. + </p> + <p> + The child retreated a step, and then, gaining courage with the distance, + said in deliciously imperfect speech: + </p> + <p> + “Dow 'way then! why don't you dow away?” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Tretherick was eying the shawl. Suddenly she whipped it off the + child's shoulders, and said angrily: + </p> + <p> + “How dared you take my things, you bad child?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it yours? Then you are my mamma; ain't you? You are Mamma!” she + continued gleefully; and before Mrs. Tretherick could avoid her, she had + dropped her doll, and, catching the woman's skirts with both hands, was + dancing up and down before her. + </p> + <p> + “What's your name, child?” said Mrs. Tretherick coldly, removing the small + and not very white hands from her garments. + </p> + <p> + “Tarry.” + </p> + <p> + “Tarry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yeth. Tarry. Tarowline.” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline?” + </p> + <p> + “Yeth. Tarowline Tretherick.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose child ARE you?” demanded Mrs. Tretherick still more coldly, to keep + down a rising fear. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yours,” said the little creature with a laugh. “I'm your little + durl. You're my mamma, my new mamma. Don't you know my ol' mamma's dorn + away, never to turn back any more? I don't live wid my ol' mamma now. I + live wid you and Papa.” + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here?” asked Mrs. Tretherick snappishly. + </p> + <p> + “I fink it's free days,” said Carry reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “You think! Don't you know?” sneered Mrs. Tretherick. “Then, where did you + come from?” + </p> + <p> + Carry's lip began to work under this sharp cross-examination. With a great + effort and a small gulp, she got the better of it, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “Papa, Papa fetched me—from Miss Simmons—from Sacramento, last + week.” + </p> + <p> + “Last week! You said three days just now,” returned Mrs. Tretherick with + severe deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “I mean a monf,” said Carry, now utterly adrift in sheer helplessness and + confusion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what you are talking about?” demanded Mrs. Tretherick + shrilly, restraining an impulse to shake the little figure before her and + precipitate the truth by specific gravity. + </p> + <p> + But the flaming red head here suddenly disappeared in the folds of Mrs. + Tretherick's dress, as if it were trying to extinguish itself forever. + </p> + <p> + “There now—stop that sniffling,” said Mrs. Tretherick, extricating + her dress from the moist embraces of the child and feeling exceedingly + uncomfortable. “Wipe your face now, and run away, and don't bother. Stop,” + she continued, as Carry moved away. “Where's your papa?” + </p> + <p> + “He's dorn away too. He's sick. He's been dorn”—she hesitated—“two, + free, days.” + </p> + <p> + “Who takes care of you, child?” said Mrs. Tretherick, eying her curiously. + </p> + <p> + “John, the Chinaman. I tresses myselth. John tooks and makes the beds.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, run away and behave yourself, and don't bother me any more,” + said Mrs. Tretherick, remembering the object of her visit. “Stop—where + are you going?” she added as the child began to ascend the stairs, + dragging the long doll after her by one helpless leg. + </p> + <p> + “Doin' upstairs to play and be dood, and no bother Mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't your mamma,” shouted Mrs. Tretherick, and then she swiftly + re-entered her bedroom and slammed the door. + </p> + <p> + Once inside, she drew forth a large trunk from the closet and set to work + with querulous and fretful haste to pack her wardrobe. She tore her best + dress in taking it from the hook on which it hung: she scratched her soft + hands twice with an ambushed pin. All the while, she kept up an indignant + commentary on the events of the past few moments. She said to herself she + saw it all. Tretherick had sent for this child of his first wife—this + child of whose existence he had never seemed to care—just to insult + her, to fill her place. Doubtless the first wife herself would follow + soon, or perhaps there would be a third. Red hair, not auburn, but RED—of + course the child, this Caroline, looked like its mother, and, if so, she + was anything but pretty. Or the whole thing had been prepared: this + red-haired child, the image of its mother, had been kept at a convenient + distance at Sacramento, ready to be sent for when needed. She remembered + his occasional visits there on—business, as he said. Perhaps the + mother already was there; but no, she had gone East. Nevertheless, Mrs. + Tretherick, in her then state of mind, preferred to dwell upon the fact + that she might be there. She was dimly conscious, also, of a certain + satisfaction in exaggerating her feelings. Surely no woman had ever been + so shamefully abused. In fancy, she sketched a picture of herself sitting + alone and deserted, at sunset, among the fallen columns of a ruined + temple, in a melancholy yet graceful attitude, while her husband drove + rapidly away in a luxurious coach-and-four, with a red-haired woman at his + side. Sitting upon the trunk she had just packed, she partly composed a + lugubrious poem describing her sufferings as, wandering alone and poorly + clad, she came upon her husband and “another” flaunting in silks and + diamonds. She pictured herself dying of consumption, brought on by sorrow—a + beautiful wreck, yet still fascinating, gazed upon adoringly by the editor + of the AVALANCHE and Colonel Starbottle. And where was Colonel Starbottle + all this while? Why didn't he come? He, at least, understood her. He—she + laughed the reckless, light laugh of a few moments before; and then her + face suddenly grew grave, as it had not a few moments before. + </p> + <p> + What was that little red-haired imp doing all this time? Why was she so + quiet? She opened the door noiselessly, and listened. She fancied that she + heard, above the multitudinous small noises and creakings and warpings of + the vacant house, a smaller voice singing on the floor above. This, as she + remembered, was only an open attic that had been used as a storeroom. With + a half-guilty consciousness, she crept softly upstairs and, pushing the + door partly open, looked within. + </p> + <p> + Athwart the long, low-studded attic, a slant sunbeam from a single small + window lay, filled with dancing motes, and only half illuminating the + barren, dreary apartment. In the ray of this sunbeam she saw the child's + glowing hair, as if crowned by a red aureole, as she sat upon the floor + with her exaggerated doll between her knees. She appeared to be talking to + it; and it was not long before Mrs. Tretherick observed that she was + rehearsing the interview of a half-hour before. She catechized the doll + severely, cross-examining it in regard to the duration of its stay there, + and generally on the measure of time. The imitation of Mrs. Tretherick's + manner was exceedingly successful, and the conversation almost a literal + reproduction, with a single exception. After she had informed the doll + that she was not her mother, at the close of the interview she added + pathetically, “that if she was dood, very dood, she might be her mamma, + and love her very much.” + </p> + <p> + I have already hinted that Mrs. Tretherick was deficient in a sense of + humor. Perhaps it was for this reason that this whole scene affected her + most unpleasantly; and the conclusion sent the blood tingling to her + cheek. There was something, too, inconceivably lonely in the situation. + The unfurnished vacant room, the half-lights, the monstrous doll, whose + very size seemed to give a pathetic significance to its speechlessness, + the smallness of the one animate, self-centered figure—all these + touched more or less deeply the half-poetic sensibilities of the woman. + She could not help utilizing the impression as she stood there, and + thought what a fine poem might be constructed from this material if the + room were a little darker, the child lonelier—say, sitting beside a + dead mother's bier, and the wind wailing in the turrets. And then she + suddenly heard footsteps at the door below, and recognized the tread of + the colonel's cane. + </p> + <p> + She flew swiftly down the stairs, and encountered the colonel in the hall. + Here she poured into his astonished ear a voluble and exaggerated + statement of her discovery, and indignant recital of her wrongs. “Don't + tell me the whole thing wasn't arranged beforehand; for I know it was!” + she almost screamed. “And think,” she added, “of the heartlessness of the + wretch, leaving his own child alone here in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a blank shame!” stammered the colonel, without the least idea of + what he was talking about. In fact, utterly unable as he was to comprehend + a reason for the woman's excitement, with his estimate of her character, I + fear he showed it more plainly than he intended. He stammered, expanded + his chest, looked stern, gallant, tender, but all unintelligently. Mrs. + Tretherick, for an instant, experienced a sickening doubt of the existence + of natures in perfect affinity. + </p> + <p> + “It's of no use,” said Mrs. Tretherick with sudden vehemence, in answer to + some inaudible remark of the colonel's, and withdrawing her hand from the + fervent grasp of that ardent and sympathetic man. “It's of no use: my mind + is made up. You can send for my trunk as soon as you like; but I shall + stay here, and confront that man with the proof of his vileness. I will + put him face to face with his infamy.” + </p> + <p> + I do not know whether Colonel Starbottle thoroughly appreciated the + convincing proof of Tretherick's unfaithfulness and malignity afforded by + the damning evidence of the existence of Tretherick's own child in his own + house. He was dimly aware, however, of some unforeseen obstacle to the + perfect expression of the infinite longing of his own sentimental nature. + But, before he could say anything, Carry appeared on the landing above + them, looking timidly, and yet half-critically, at the pair. + </p> + <p> + “That's her,” said Mrs. Tretherick excitedly. In her deepest emotions, in + either verse or prose, she rose above a consideration of grammatical + construction. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the colonel, with a sudden assumption of parental affection and + jocularity that was glaringly unreal and affected. “Ah! pretty little + girl, pretty little girl! How do you do? How are you? You find yourself + pretty well, do you, pretty little girl?” The colonel's impulse also was + to expand his chest and swing his cane, until it occurred to him that this + action might be ineffective with a child of six or seven. Carry, however, + took no immediate notice of this advance, but further discomposed the + chivalrous colonel by running quickly to Mrs. Tretherick and hiding + herself, as if for protection, in the folds of her gown. Nevertheless, the + colonel was not vanquished. Falling back into an attitude of respectful + admiration, he pointed out a marvelous resemblance to the “Madonna and + Child.” Mrs. Tretherick simpered, but did not dislodge Carry as before. + There was an awkward pause for a moment; and then Mrs. Tretherick, + motioning significantly to the child, said in a whisper: “Go now. Don't + come here again, but meet me tonight at the hotel.” She extended her hand: + the colonel bent over it gallantly and, raising his hat, the next moment + was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” said Mrs. Tretherick with an embarrassed voice and a + prodigious blush, looking down, and addressing the fiery curls just + visible in the folds of her dress—“do you think you will be 'dood' + if I let you stay in here and sit with me?” + </p> + <p> + “And let me tall you Mamma?” queried Carry, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “And let you call me Mamma!” assented Mrs. Tretherick with an embarrassed + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Yeth,” said Carry promptly. + </p> + <p> + They entered the bedroom together. Carry's eye instantly caught sight of + the trunk. + </p> + <p> + “Are you dowin' away adain, Mamma?” she said with a quick nervous look, + and a clutch at the woman's dress. + </p> + <p> + “No-o,” said Mrs. Tretherick, looking out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “Only playing your dowin' away,” suggested Carry with a laugh. “Let me + play too.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick assented. Carry flew into the next room, and presently + reappeared dragging a small trunk, into which she gravely proceeded to + pack her clothes. Mrs. Tretherick noticed that they were not many. A + question or two regarding them brought out some further replies from the + child; and before many minutes had elapsed, Mrs. Tretherick was in + possession of all her earlier history. But, to do this, Mrs. Tretherick + had been obliged to take Carry upon her lap, pending the most confidential + disclosures. They sat thus a long time after Mrs. Tretherick had + apparently ceased to be interested in Carry's disclosures; and when lost + in thought, she allowed the child to rattle on unheeded, and ran her + fingers through the scarlet curls. + </p> + <p> + “You don't hold me right, Mamma,” said Carry at last, after one or two + uneasy shiftings of position. + </p> + <p> + “How should I hold you?” asked Mrs. Tretherick with a half-amused, + half-embarrassed laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Dis way,” said Carry, curling up into position, with one arm around Mrs. + Tretherick's neck and her cheek resting on her bosom—“dis way—dere.” + After a little preparatory nestling, not unlike some small animal, she + closed her eyes, and went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + For a few moments the woman sat silent, scarcely daring to breathe in that + artificial attitude. And then, whether from some occult sympathy in the + touch, or God best knows what, a sudden fancy began to thrill her. She + began by remembering an old pain that she had forgotten, an old horror + that she had resolutely put away all these years. She recalled days of + sickness and distrust—days of an overshadowing fear—days of + preparation for something that was to be prevented, that WAS prevented, + with mortal agony and fear. She thought of a life that might have been—she + dared not say HAD been—and wondered. It was six years ago; if it had + lived, it would have been as old as Carry. The arms which were folded + loosely around the sleeping child began to tremble, and tighten their + clasp. And then the deep potential impulse came, and with a half-sob, + half-sigh, she threw her arms out and drew the body of the sleeping child + down, down, into her breast, down again and again as if she would hide it + in the grave dug there years before. And the gust that shook her passed, + and then, ah me! the rain. + </p> + <p> + A drop or two fell upon the curls of Carry, and she moved uneasily in her + sleep. But the woman soothed her again—it was SO easy to do it now—and + they sat there quiet and undisturbed, so quiet that they might have seemed + incorporate of the lonely silent house, the slowly declining sunbeams, and + the general air of desertion and abandonment, yet a desertion that had in + it nothing of age, decay, or despair. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Starbottle waited at the Fiddletown Hotel all that night in vain. + And the next morning, when Mr. Tretherick returned to his husks, he found + the house vacant and untenanted, except by motes and sunbeams. + </p> + <p> + When it was fairly known that Mrs. Tretherick had run away, taking Mr. + Tretherick's own child with her, there was some excitement and much + diversity of opinion, in Fiddletown. THE DUTCH FLAT INTELLIGENCER openly + alluded to the “forcible abduction” of the child with the same freedom, + and it is to be feared the same prejudice, with which it had criticized + the abductor's poetry. All of Mrs. Tretherick's own sex, and perhaps a few + of the opposite sex, whose distinctive quality was not, however, very + strongly indicated, fully coincided in the views of the INTELLIGENCER. The + majority, however, evaded the moral issue; that Mrs. Tretherick had shaken + the red dust of Fiddletown from her dainty slippers was enough for them to + know. They mourned the loss of the fair abductor more than her offense. + They promptly rejected Tretherick as an injured husband and disconsolate + father, and even went so far as to openly cast discredit on the sincerity + of his grief. They reserved an ironical condolence for Colonel Starbottle, + overbearing that excellent man with untimely and demonstrative sympathy in + barrooms, saloons, and other localities not generally deemed favorable to + the display of sentiment. “She was alliz a skittish thing, Kernel,” said + one sympathizer, with a fine affectation of gloomy concern and great + readiness of illustration; “and it's kinder nat'ril thet she'd get away + someday, and stampede that theer colt: but thet she should shake YOU, + Kernel, diet she should jist shake you—is what gits me. And they do + say thet you jist hung around thet hotel all night, and payrolled them + corriders, and histed yourself up and down them stairs, and meandered in + and out o' thet piazzy, and all for nothing?” It was another generous and + tenderly commiserating spirit that poured additional oil and wine on the + colonel's wounds. “The boys yer let on thet Mrs. Tretherick prevailed on + ye to pack her trunk and a baby over from the house to the stage offis, + and that the chap ez did go off with her thanked you, and offered you two + short bits, and sed ez how he liked your looks, and ud employ you agin—and + now you say it ain't so? Well, I'll tell the boys it ain't so, and I'm + glad I met you, for stories DO get round.” + </p> + <p> + Happily for Mrs. Tretherick's reputation, however, the Chinaman in + Tretherick's employment, who was the only eyewitness of her flight, stated + that she was unaccompanied, except by the child. He further deposed that, + obeying her orders, he had stopped the Sacramento coach, and secured a + passage for herself and child to San Francisco. It was true that Ah Fe's + testimony was of no legal value. But nobody doubted it. Even those who + were skeptical of the pagan's ability to recognize the sacredness of the + truth admitted his passionless, unprejudiced unconcern. But it would + appear, from a hitherto unrecorded passage of this veracious chronicle, + that herein they were mistaken. + </p> + <p> + It was about six months after the disappearance of Mrs. Tretherick that Ah + Fe, while working in Tretherick's lot, was hailed by two passing Chinamen. + They were the ordinary mining coolies, equipped with long poles and + baskets for their usual pilgrimages. An animated conversation at once + ensued between Ah Fe and his brother Mongolians—a conversation + characterized by that usual shrill volubility and apparent animosity which + was at once the delight and scorn of the intelligent Caucasian who did not + understand a word of it. Such, at least, was the feeling with which Mr. + Tretherick on his veranda and Colonel Starbottle, who was passing, + regarded their heathenish jargon. The gallant colonel simply kicked them + out of his way; the irate Tretherick, with an oath, threw a stone at the + group, and dispersed them, but not before one or two slips of yellow rice + paper, marked with hieroglyphics, were exchanged, and a small parcel put + into Ah Fe's hands. When Ah Fe opened this in the dim solitude of his + kitchen, he found a little girl's apron, freshly washed, ironed, and + folded. On the corner of the hem were the initials “C. T.” Ah Fe tucked it + away in a corner of his blouse, and proceeded to wash his dishes in the + sink with a smile of guileless satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Two days after this, Ah Fe confronted his master. “Me no likee Fiddletown. + Me belly sick. Me go now.” Mr. Tretherick violently suggested a profane + locality. Ah Fe gazed at him placidly, and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + Before leaving Fiddletown, however, he accidentally met Colonel + Starbottle, and dropped a few incoherent phrases which apparently + interested that gentleman. When he concluded, the colonel handed him a + letter and a twenty-dollar gold piece. “If you bring me an answer, I'll + double that—sabe, John?” Ah Fe nodded. An interview equally + accidental, with precisely the same result, took place between Ah Fe and + another gentleman, whom I suspect to have been the youthful editor of the + AVALANCHE. Yet I regret to state that, after proceeding some distance on + his journey, Ah Fe calmly broke the seals of both letters, and after + trying to read them upside down and sideways, finally divided them into + accurate squares, and in this condition disposed of them to a brother + Celestial whom he met on the road, for a trifling gratuity. The agony of + Colonel Starbottle on finding his wash bill made out on the unwritten side + of one of these squares, and delivered to him with his weekly clean + clothes, and the subsequent discovery that the remaining portions of his + letter were circulated by the same method from the Chinese laundry of one + Fung Ti of Fiddletown, has been described to me as peculiarly affecting. + Yet I am satisfied that a higher nature, rising above the levity induced + by the mere contemplation of the insignificant details of this breach of + trust, would find ample retributive justice in the difficulties that + subsequently attended Ah Fe's pilgrimage. + </p> + <p> + On the road to Sacramento he was twice playfully thrown from the top of + the stagecoach by an intelligent but deeply intoxicated Caucasian, whose + moral nature was shocked at riding with one addicted to opium-smoking. At + Hangtown he was beaten by a passing stranger—purely an act of + Christian supererogation. At Dutch Flat he was robbed by well-known hands + from unknown motives. At Sacramento he was arrested on suspicion of being + something or other, and discharged with a severe reprimand—possibly + for not being it, and so delaying the course of justice. At San Francisco + he was freely stoned by children of the public schools; but, by carefully + avoiding these monuments of enlightened progress, he at last reached, in + comparative safety, the Chinese quarters, where his abuse was confined to + the police and limited by the strong arm of the law. + </p> + <p> + The next day he entered the washhouse of Chy Fook as an assistant, and on + the following Friday was sent with a basket of clean clothes to Chy Fook's + several clients. + </p> + <p> + It was the usual foggy afternoon as he climbed the long windswept hill of + California Street—one of those bleak, gray intervals that made the + summer a misnomer to any but the liveliest San Franciscan fancy. There was + no warmth or color in earth or sky, no light nor shade within or without, + only one monotonous, universal neutral tint over everything. There was a + fierce unrest in the wind-whipped streets: there was a dreary vacant quiet + in the gray houses. When Ah Fe reached the top of the hill, the Mission + Ridge was already hidden, and the chill sea breeze made him shiver. As he + put down his basket to rest himself, it is possible that, to his defective + intelligence and heathen experience, this “God's own climate,” as was + called, seemed to possess but scant tenderness, softness, or mercy. But it + is possible that Ah Fe illogically confounded this season with his old + persecutors, the schoolchildren, who, being released from studious + confinement, at this hour were generally most aggressive. So he hastened + on, and turning a corner, at last stopped before a small house. + </p> + <p> + It was the usual San Franciscan urban cottage. There was the little strip + of cold green shrubbery before it; the chilly, bare veranda, and above + this, again, the grim balcony, on which no one sat. Ah Fe rang the bell. A + servant appeared, glanced at his basket, and reluctantly admitted him, as + if he were some necessary domestic animal. Ah Fe silently mounted the + stairs, and entering the open door of the front chamber, put down the + basket and stood passively on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + A woman, who was sitting in the cold gray light of the window, with a + child in her lap, rose listlessly, and came toward him. Ah Fe instantly + recognized Mrs. Tretherick; but not a muscle of his immobile face changed, + nor did his slant eyes lighten as he met her own placidly. She evidently + did not recognize him as she began to count the clothes. But the child, + curiously examining him, suddenly uttered a short, glad cry. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's John, Mamma! It's our old John what we had in Fiddletown.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Ah Fe's eyes and teeth electrically lightened. The child + clapped her hands, and caught at his blouse. Then he said shortly: “Me + John—Ah Fe—allee same. Me know you. How do?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick dropped the clothes nervously, and looked hard at Ah Fe. + Wanting the quick-witted instinct of affection that sharpened Carry's + perception, she even then could not distinguish him above his fellows. + With a recollection of past pain, and an obscure suspicion of impending + danger, she asked him when he had left Fiddletown. + </p> + <p> + “Longee time. No likee Fiddletown, no likee Tlevelick. Likee San Flisco. + Likee washee. Likee Tally.” + </p> + <p> + Ah Fe's laconics pleased Mrs. Tretherick. She did not stop to consider how + much an imperfect knowledge of English added to his curt directness and + sincerity. But she said, “Don't tell anybody you have seen me,” and took + out her pocketbook. + </p> + <p> + Ah Fe, without looking at it, saw that it was nearly empty. Ah Fe, without + examining the apartment, saw that it was scantily furnished. Ah Fe, + without removing his eyes from blank vacancy, saw that both Mrs. + Tretherick and Carry were poorly dressed. Yet it is my duty to state that + Ah Fe's long fingers closed promptly and firmly over the half-dollar which + Mrs. Tretherick extended to him. + </p> + <p> + Then he began to fumble in his blouse with a series of extraordinary + contortions. After a few moments, he extracted from apparently no + particular place a child's apron, which he laid upon the basket with the + remark: + </p> + <p> + “One piecee washman flagittee.” + </p> + <p> + Then he began anew his fumblings and contortions. At last his efforts were + rewarded by his producing, apparently from his right ear, a many-folded + piece of tissue paper. Unwrapping this carefully, he at last disclosed two + twenty-dollar gold pieces, which he handed to Mrs. Tretherick. + </p> + <p> + “You leavee money topside of blulow, Fiddletown. Me findee money. Me + fetchee money to you. All lightee.” + </p> + <p> + “But I left no money on the top of the bureau, John,” said Mrs. Tretherick + earnestly. “There must be some mistake. It belongs to some other person. + Take it back, John.” + </p> + <p> + Ah Fe's brow darkened. He drew away from Mrs. Tretherick's extended hand, + and began hastily to gather up his basket. + </p> + <p> + “Me no takee it back. No, no! Bimeby pleesman he catchee me. He say, 'God + damn thief!—catchee flowty dollar: come to jailee.' Me no takee + back. You leavee money topside blulow, Fiddletown. Me fetchee money you. + Me no takee back.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick hesitated. In the confusion of her flight, she MIGHT have + left the money in the manner he had said. In any event, she had no right + to jeopardize this honest Chinaman's safety by refusing it. So she said: + “Very well, John, I will keep it. But you must come again and see me—” + here Mrs. Tretherick hesitated with a new and sudden revelation of the + fact that any man could wish to see any other than herself—“and, and—Carry.” + </p> + <p> + Ah Fe's face lightened. He even uttered a short ventriloquistic laugh + without moving his mouth. Then, shouldering his basket, he shut the door + carefully and slid quietly down stairs. In the lower hall he, however, + found an unexpected difficulty in opening the front door, and, after + fumbling vainly at the lock for a moment, looked around for some help or + instruction. But the Irish handmaid who had let him in was contemptuously + oblivious of his needs, and did not appear. + </p> + <p> + There occurred a mysterious and painful incident, which I shall simply + record without attempting to explain. On the hall table a scarf, evidently + the property of the servant before alluded to, was lying. As Ah Fe tried + the lock with one hand, the other rested lightly on the table. Suddenly, + and apparently of its own volition, the scarf began to creep slowly toward + Ah Fe's hand; from Ah Fe's hand it began to creep up his sleeve slowly, + and with an insinuating, snakelike motion; and then disappeared somewhere + in the recesses of his blouse. Without betraying the least interest or + concern in this phenomenon, Ah Fe still repeated his experiments upon the + lock. A moment later the tablecloth of red damask, moved by apparently the + same mysterious impulse, slowly gathered itself under Ah Fe's fingers, and + sinuously disappeared by the same hidden channel. What further mystery + might have followed, I cannot say; for at this moment Ah Fe discovered the + secret of the lock, and was enabled to open the door coincident with the + sound of footsteps upon the kitchen stairs. Ah Fe did not hasten his + movements, but patiently shouldering his basket, closed the door carefully + behind him again, and stepped forth into the thick encompassing fog that + now shrouded earth and sky. + </p> + <p> + From her high casement window, Mrs. Tretherick watched Ah Fe's figure + until it disappeared in the gray cloud. In her present loneliness, she + felt a keen sense of gratitude toward him, and may have ascribed to the + higher emotions and the consciousness of a good deed that certain + expansiveness of the chest, and swelling of the bosom, that was really due + to the hidden presence of the scarf and tablecloth under his blouse. For + Mrs. Tretherick was still poetically sensitive. As the gray fog deepened + into night, she drew Carry closer toward her, and, above the prattle of + the child, pursued a vein of sentimental and egotistic recollection at + once bitter and dangerous. The sudden apparition of Ah Fe linked her again + with her past life at Fiddletown. Over the dreary interval between, she + was now wandering—a journey so piteous, willful, thorny, and useless + that it was no wonder that at last Carry stopped suddenly in the midst of + her voluble confidences to throw her small arms around the woman's neck, + and bid her not to cry. + </p> + <p> + Heaven forefend that I should use a pen that should be ever dedicated to + an exposition of unalterable moral principle to transcribe Mrs. + Tretherick's own theory of this interval and episode, with its feeble + palliations, its illogical deductions, its fond excuses, and weak + apologies. It would seem, however, that her experience had been hard. Her + slender stock of money was soon exhausted. At Sacramento she found that + the composition of verse, although appealing to the highest emotions of + the human heart, and compelling the editorial breast to the noblest + commendation in the editorial pages, was singularly inadequate to defray + the expenses of herself and Carry. Then she tried the stage, but failed + signally. Possibly her conception of the passions was different from that + which obtained with a Sacramento audience; but it was certain that her + charming presence, so effective at short range, was not sufficiently + pronounced for the footlights. She had admirers enough in the greenroom, + but awakened no abiding affection among the audience. In this strait, it + occurred to her that she had a voice—a contralto of no very great + compass or cultivation, but singularly sweet and touching; and she finally + obtained position in a church choir. She held it for three months, greatly + to her pecuniary advantage, and, it is said, much to the satisfaction of + the gentlemen in the back pews, who faced toward her during the singing of + the last hymn. + </p> + <p> + I remember her quite distinctly at this time. The light that slanted + through the oriel of St. Dives's choir was wont to fall very tenderly on + her beautiful head with its stacked masses of deerskin-colored hair, on + the low black arches of her brows, and to deepen the pretty fringes that + shaded her eyes of Genoa velvet. Very pleasant it was to watch the opening + and shutting of that small straight mouth, with its quick revelation of + little white teeth, and to see the foolish blood faintly deepen her satin + cheek as you watched. For Mrs. Tretherick was very sweetly conscious of + admiration and, like most pretty women, gathered herself under your eye + like a racer under the spur. + </p> + <p> + And then, of course, there came trouble. I have it from the soprano—a + little lady who possessed even more than the usual unprejudiced judgment + of her sex—that Mrs. Tretherick's conduct was simply shameful; that + her conceit was unbearable; that, if she considered the rest of the choir + as slaves, she (the soprano) would like to know it; that her conduct on + Easter Sunday with the basso had attracted the attention of the whole + congregation; and that she herself had noticed Dr. Cope twice look up + during the service; that her (the soprano's) friends had objected to her + singing in the choir with a person who had been on the stage, but she had + waived this. Yet she had it from the best authority that Mrs. Tretherick + had run away from her husband, and that this red-haired child who + sometimes came in the choir was not her own. The tenor confided to me + behind the organ that Mrs. Tretherick had a way of sustaining a note at + the end of a line in order that her voice might linger longer with the + congregation—an act that could be attributed only to a defective + moral nature; that as a man (he was a very popular dry goods clerk on + weekdays, and sang a good deal from apparently behind his eyebrows on the + Sabbath)—that as a man, sir, he would put up with it no longer. The + basso alone—a short German with a heavy voice, for which he seemed + reluctantly responsible, and rather grieved at its possession—stood + up for Mrs. Tretherick, and averred that they were jealous of her because + she was “bretty.” The climax was at last reached in an open quarrel, + wherein Mrs. Tretherick used her tongue with such precision of statement + and epithet that the soprano burst into hysterical tears, and had to be + supported from the choir by her husband and the tenor. This act was marked + intentionally to the congregation by the omission of the usual soprano + solo. Mrs. Tretherick went home flushed with triumph, but on reaching her + room frantically told Carry that they were beggars henceforward; that she—her + mother—had just taken the very bread out of her darling's mouth, and + ended by bursting into a flood of penitent tears. They did not come so + quickly as in her old poetical days; but when they came they stung deeply. + She was roused by a formal visit from a vestryman—one of the music + committee. Mrs. Tretherick dried her long lashes, put on a new neck + ribbon, and went down to the parlor. She staid there two hours—a + fact that might have occasioned some remark but that the vestryman was + married, and had a family of grownup daughters. When Mrs. Tretherick + returned to her room, she sang to herself in the glass and scolded Carry—but + she retained her place in the choir. + </p> + <p> + It was not long, however. In due course of time, her enemies received a + powerful addition to their forces in the committeeman's wife. That lady + called upon several of the church members and on Dr. Cope's family. The + result was that, at a later meeting of the music committee, Mrs. + Tretherick's voice was declared inadequate to the size of the building and + she was invited to resign. She did so. She had been out of a situation for + two months, and her scant means were almost exhausted, when Ah Fe's + unexpected treasure was tossed into her lap. + </p> + <p> + The gray fog deepened into night, and the street lamps started into + shivering life as, absorbed in these unprofitable memories, Mrs. + Tretherick still sat drearily at her window. Even Carry had slipped away + unnoticed; and her abrupt entrance with the damp evening paper in her hand + roused Mrs. Tretherick, and brought her back to an active realization of + the present. For Mrs. Tretherick was wont to scan the advertisements in + the faint hope of finding some avenue of employment—she knew not + what—open to her needs; and Carry had noted this habit. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick mechanically closed the shutters, lit the lights, and + opened the paper. Her eye fell instinctively on the following paragraph in + the telegraphic column: + </p> + <p> + FIDDLETOWN, 7th.—Mr. James Tretherick, an old resident of this + place, died last night of delirium tremens. Mr. Tretherick was addicted to + intemperate habits, said to have been induced by domestic trouble. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick did not start. She quietly turned over another page of the + paper, and glanced at Carry. The child was absorbed in a book. Mrs. + Tretherick uttered no word, but during the remainder of the evening was + unusually silent and cold. When Carry was undressed and in bed, Mrs. + Tretherick suddenly dropped on her knees beside the bed, and, taking + Carry's flaming head between her hands, said: + </p> + <p> + “Should you like to have another papa, Carry, darling?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Carry, after a moment's thought. + </p> + <p> + “But a papa to help Mamma take care of you, to love you, to give you nice + clothes, to make a lady of you when you grow up?” + </p> + <p> + Carry turned her sleepy eyes toward the questioner. “Should YOU, Mamma?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tretherick suddenly flushed to the roots of her hair. “Go to sleep,” + she said sharply, and turned away. + </p> + <p> + But at midnight the child felt two white arms close tightly around her, + and was drawn down into a bosom that heaved, fluttered, and at last was + broken up by sobs. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ky, Mamma,” whispered Carry, with a vague retrospect of their + recent conversation. “Don't ky. I fink I SHOULD like a new papa, if he + loved you very much—very, very much!” + </p> + <p> + A month afterward, to everybody's astonishment, Mrs. Tretherick was + married. The happy bridegroom was one Colonel Starbottle, recently elected + to represent Calaveras County in the legislative councils of the State. As + I cannot record the event in finer language than that used by the + correspondent of THE SACRAMENTO GLOBE, I venture to quote some of his + graceful periods. “The relentless shafts of the sly god have been lately + busy among our gallant Solons. We quote 'one more unfortunate.' The latest + victim is the Hon. C. Starbottle of Calaveras. The fair enchantress in the + case is a beautiful widow, a former votary of Thespis, and lately a + fascinating St. Cecilia of one of the most fashionable churches of San + Francisco, where she commanded a high salary.” + </p> + <p> + THE DUTCH FLAT INTELLIGENCER saw fit, however, to comment upon the fact + with that humorous freedom characteristic of an unfettered press. “The new + Democratic war horse from Calaveras has lately advented in the legislature + with a little bill to change the name of Tretherick to Starbottle. They + call it a marriage certificate down there. Mr. Tretherick has been dead + just one month; but we presume the gallant colonel is not afraid of + ghosts.” It is but just to Mrs. Tretherick to state that the colonel's + victory was by no means an easy one. To a natural degree of coyness on the + part of the lady was added the impediment of a rival—a prosperous + undertaker from Sacramento, who had first seen and loved Mrs. Tretherick + at the theater and church, his professional habits debarring him from + ordinary social intercourse, and indeed any other than the most formal + public contact with the sex. As this gentleman had made a snug fortune + during the felicitous prevalence of a severe epidemic, the colonel + regarded him as a dangerous rival. Fortunately, however, the undertaker + was called in professionally to lay out a brother senator, who had + unhappily fallen by the colonel's pistol in an affair of honor; and either + deterred by physical consideration from rivalry, or wisely concluding that + the colonel was professionally valuable, he withdrew from the field. + </p> + <p> + The honeymoon was brief, and brought to a close by an untoward incident. + During their bridal trip, Carry had been placed in the charge of Colonel + Starbottle's sister. On their return to the city, immediately on reaching + their lodgings, Mrs. Starbottle announced her intention of at once + proceeding to Mrs. Culpepper's to bring the child home. Colonel + Starbottle, who had been exhibiting for some time a certain uneasiness + which he had endeavored to overcome by repeated stimulation, finally + buttoned his coat tightly across his breast, and after walking unsteadily + once or twice up and down the room, suddenly faced his wife with his most + imposing manner. + </p> + <p> + “I have deferred,” said the colonel with an exaggeration of port that + increased with his inward fear, and a growing thickness of speech—“I + have deferr—I may say poshponed statement o' fack thash my duty ter + dishclose ter ye. I did no wish to mar sushine mushal happ'ness, to bligh + bud o' promise, to darken conjuglar sky by unpleasht revelashun. Musht be + done—by God, m'm, musht do it now. The chile is gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Gone!” echoed Mrs. Starbottle. + </p> + <p> + There was something in the tone of her voice, in the sudden + drawing-together of the pupils of her eyes, that for a moment nearly + sobered the colonel, and partly collapsed his chest. + </p> + <p> + “I'll splain all in a minit,” he said with a deprecating wave of the hand. + “Everything shall be splained. The-the-the-melencholly event wish + preshipitate our happ'ness—the myster'us prov'nice wish releash you—releash + chile! hunerstan?—releash chile. The mom't Tretherick die—all + claim you have in chile through him—die too. Thash law. Who's chile + b'long to? Tretherick? Tretherick dead. Chile can't b'long dead man. Damn + nonshense b'long dead man. I'sh your chile? no! whose chile then? Chile + b'long to 'ts mother. Unnerstan?” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” said Mrs. Starbottle, with a very white face and a very + low voice. + </p> + <p> + “I'll splain all. Chile b'long to 'ts mother. Thash law. I'm lawyer, + leshlator, and American sis'n. Ish my duty as lawyer, as leshlator, and + 'merikan sis'n to reshtore chile to suff'rin mother at any coss—any + coss.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” repeated Mrs. Starbottle, with her eyes still fixed on the + colonel's face. + </p> + <p> + “Gone to 'ts m'o'r. Gone East on shteamer, yesserday. Waffed by fav'rin + gales to suff'rin p'rent. Thash so!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Starbottle did not move. The colonel felt his chest slowly + collapsing, but steadied himself against a chair, and endeavored to beam + with chivalrous gallantry not unmixed with magisterial firmness upon her + as she sat. + </p> + <p> + “Your feelin's, m'm, do honor to yer sex, but conshider situashun. + Conshider m'or's feelings—conshider MY feelin's.” The colonel + paused, and flourishing a white handkerchief, placed it negligently in his + breast, and then smiled tenderly above it, as over laces and ruffles, on + the woman before him. “Why should dark shed-der cass bligh on two sholes + with single beat? Chile's fine chile, good chile, but summonelse chile! + Chile's gone, Clar'; but all ish'n't gone, Clar'. Conshider dearesht, you + all's have me!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Starbottle started to her feet. “YOU!” she cried, bringing out a + chest note that made the chandeliers ring—“You that I married to + give my darling food and clothes—YOU! a dog that I whistled to my + side to keep the men off me—YOU!” + </p> + <p> + She choked up, and then dashed past him into the inner room, which had + been Carry's; then she swept by him again into her own bedroom, and then + suddenly reappeared before him, erect, menacing, with a burning fire over + her cheekbones, a quick straightening of her arched brows and mouth, a + squaring of jaw, and ophidian flattening of the head. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” she said in a hoarse, half-grown boy's voice. “Hear me! If you + ever expect to set eyes on me again, you must find the child. If you ever + expect to speak to me again, to touch me, you must bring her back. For + where she goes, I go; you hear me! Where she has gone, look for me.” + </p> + <p> + She struck out past him again with a quick feminine throwing-out of her + arms from the elbows down, as if freeing herself from some imaginary + bonds, and dashing into her chamber, slammed and locked the door. Colonel + Starbottle, although no coward, stood in superstitious fear of an angry + woman, and, recoiling as she swept by, lost his unsteady foothold and + rolled helplessly on the sofa. Here, after one or two unsuccessful + attempts to regain his foothold, he remained, uttering from time to time + profane but not entirely coherent or intelligible protests, until at last + he succumbed to the exhausting quality of his emotions, and the narcotic + quantity of his potations. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, within, Mrs. Starbottle was excitedly gathering her valuables + and packing her trunk, even as she had done once before in the course of + this remarkable history. Perhaps some recollection of this was in her + mind; for she stopped to lean her burning cheeks upon her hand, as if she + saw again the figure of the child standing in the doorway, and heard once + more a childish voice asking, “Is it Mamma?” But the epithet now stung her + to the quick, and with a quick, passionate gesture she dashed it away with + a tear that had gathered in her eye. And then it chanced that, in turning + over some clothes, she came upon the child's slipper with a broken sandal + string. She uttered a great cry here—the first she had uttered—and + caught it to her breast, kissing it passionately again and again, and + rocking from side to side with a motion peculiar to her sex. And then she + took it to the window, the better to see it through her now streaming + eyes. Here she was taken with a sudden fit of coughing that she could not + stifle with the handkerchief she put to her feverish lips. And then she + suddenly grew very faint. The window seemed to recede before her, the + floor to sink beneath her feet; and staggering to the bed, she fell prone + upon it with the sandal and handkerchief pressed to her breast. Her face + was quite pale, the orbit of her eyes dark; and there was a spot upon her + lip, another on her handkerchief, and still another on the white + counterpane of the bed. + </p> + <p> + The wind had risen, rattling the window sashes and swaying the white + curtains in a ghostly way. Later, a gray fog stole softly over the roofs, + soothing the wind-roughened surfaces, and in-wrapping all things in an + uncertain light and a measureless peace. She lay there very quiet—for + all her troubles, still a very pretty bride. And on the other side of the + bolted door the gallant bridegroom, from his temporary couch, snored + peacefully. + </p> + <p> + A week before Christmas Day, 1870, the little town of Genoa, in the State + of New York, exhibited, perhaps more strongly than at any other time, the + bitter irony of its founders and sponsors. A driving snowstorm that had + whitened every windward hedge, bush, wall, and telegraph pole, played + around this soft Italian Capital, whirled in and out of the great staring + wooden Doric columns of its post office and hotel, beat upon the cold + green shutters of its best houses, and powdered the angular, stiff, dark + figures in its streets. From the level of the street, the four principal + churches of the town stood out starkly, even while their misshapen spires + were kindly hidden in the low, driving storm. Near the railroad station, + the new Methodist chapel, whose resemblance to an enormous locomotive was + further heightened by the addition of a pyramidal row of front steps, like + a cowcatcher, stood as if waiting for a few more houses to be hitched on + to proceed to a pleasanter location. But the pride of Genoa—the + great Crammer Institute for Young Ladies—stretched its bare brick + length and reared its cupola plainly from the bleak Parnassian hill above + the principal avenue. There was no evasion in the Crammer Institute of the + fact that it was a public institution. A visitor upon its doorsteps, a + pretty face at its window, were clearly visible all over the township. + </p> + <p> + The shriek of the engine of the four-o'clock Northern express brought but + few of the usual loungers to the depot. Only a single passenger alighted, + and was driven away in the solitary waiting sleigh toward the Genoa Hotel. + And then the train sped away again, with that passionless indifference to + human sympathies or curiosity peculiar to express trains; the one baggage + truck was wheeled into the station again; the station door was locked; and + the stationmaster went home. + </p> + <p> + The locomotive whistle, however, awakened the guilty consciousness of + three young ladies of the Crammer Institute, who were even then + surreptitiously regaling themselves in the bakeshop and confectionery + saloon of Mistress Phillips in a by-lane. For even the admirable + regulations of the Institute failed to entirely develop the physical and + moral natures of its pupils. They conformed to the excellent dietary rules + in public, and in private drew upon the luxurious rations of their village + caterer. They attended church with exemplary formality, and flirted + informally during service with the village beaux. They received the best + and most judicious instruction during school hours, and devoured the + trashiest novels during recess. The result of which was an aggregation of + quite healthy, quite human, and very charming young creatures that + reflected infinite credit on the Institute. Even Mistress Phillips, to + whom they owed vast sums, exhilarated by the exuberant spirits and + youthful freshness of her guests, declared that the sight of “them young + things” did her good, and had even been known to shield them by shameless + equivocation. + </p> + <p> + “Four o'clock, girls! and, if we're not back to prayers by five, we'll be + missed,” said the tallest of these foolish virgins, with an aquiline nose, + and certain quiet elan that bespoke the leader, as she rose from her seat. + “Have you got the books, Addy?” Addy displayed three dissipated-looking + novels under her waterproof. “And the provisions, Carry?” Carry showed a + suspicious parcel filling the pocket of her sack. “All right, then. Come, + girls, trudge—Charge it,” she added, nodding to her host as they + passed toward the door. “I'll pay you when my quarter's allowance comes.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Kate,” interposed Carry, producing her purse, “let me pay; it's my + turn.” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said Kate, arching her black brows loftily, “even if you do have + rich relatives, and regular remittances from California. Never! Come, + girls, forward, march!” + </p> + <p> + As they opened the door, a gust of wind nearly took them off their feet. + Kindhearted Mrs. Phillips was alarmed. “Sakes alive, galls! ye mussn't go + out in sich weather. Better let me send word to the Institoot, and make ye + up a nice bed tonight in my parlor.” But the last sentence was lost in a + chorus of half-suppressed shrieks as the girls, hand in hand, ran down the + steps into the storm, and were at once whirled away. + </p> + <p> + The short December day, unlit by any sunset glow, was failing fast. It was + quite dark already, and the air was thick with driving snow. For some + distance their high spirits, youth, and even inexperience kept them + bravely up; but, in ambitiously attempting a short cut from the highroad + across an open field, their strength gave out, the laugh grew less + frequent, and tears began to stand in Carry's brown eyes. When they + reached the road again, they were utterly exhausted. “Let us go back,” + said Carry. + </p> + <p> + “We'd never get across that field again,” said Addy. + </p> + <p> + “Let's stop at the first house, then,” said Carry. + </p> + <p> + “The first house,” said Addy, peering through the gathering darkness, “is + Squire Robinson's.” She darted a mischievous glance at Carry that, even in + her discomfort and fear, brought the quick blood to her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” said Kate with gloomy irony, “certainly; stop at the squire's + by all means, and be invited to tea, and be driven home after by your dear + friend Mr. Harry, with a formal apology from Mrs. Robinson, and hopes that + the young ladies may be excused this time. No!” continued Kate with sudden + energy. “That may suit YOU; but I'm going back as I came—by the + window, or not at all” Then she pounced suddenly, like a hawk, on Carry, + who was betraying a tendency to sit down on a snowbank and whimper, and + shook her briskly. “You'll be going to sleep next. Stay, hold your + tongues, all of you—what's that?” + </p> + <p> + It was the sound of sleigh bells. Coming down toward them out of the + darkness was a sleigh with a single occupant. “Hold down your heads, + girls: if it's anybody that knows us, we're lost.” But it was not, for a + voice strange to their ears, but withal very kindly and pleasant, asked if + its owner could be of any help to them. As they turned toward him, they + saw it was a man wrapped in a handsome sealskin cloak, wearing a sealskin + cap; his face, half-concealed by a muffler of the same material, + disclosing only a pair of long mustaches, and two keen dark eyes. “It's a + son of old Santa Claus!” whispered Addy. The girls tittered audibly as + they tumbled into the sleigh; they had regained their former spirits. + “Where shall I take you?” said the stranger quietly. There was a hurried + whispering; and then Kate said boldly, “To the Institute.” They drove + silently up the hill, until the long, ascetic building loomed up before + them. The stranger reined up suddenly. “You know the way better than I,” + he said. “Where do you go in?” “Through the back window,” said Kate with + sudden and appalling frankness. “I see!” responded their strange driver + quietly and, alighting quickly, removed the bells from the horses. “We can + drive as near as you please now,” he added by way of explanation. “He + certainly is a son of Santa Claus,” whispered Addy. “Hadn't we better ask + after his father?” “Hush!” said Kate decidedly. “He is an angel, I dare + say.” She added with a delicious irrelevance, which was, however, + perfectly understood by her feminine auditors, “We are looking like three + frights.” + </p> + <p> + Cautiously skirting the fences, they at last pulled up a few feet from a + dark wall. The stranger proceeded to assist them to alight. There was + still some light from the reflected snow; and as he handed his fair + companions to the ground, each was conscious of undergoing an intense + though respectful scrutiny. He assisted them gravely to open the window, + and then discreetly retired to the sleigh until the difficult and somewhat + discomposing ingress was made. He then walked to the window. “Thank you + and good night!” whispered three voices. A single figure still lingered. + The stranger leaned over the window sill. “Will you permit me to light my + cigar here? It might attract attention if I struck a match outside.” By + the upspringing light he saw the figure of Kate very charmingly framed in + by the window. The match burnt slowly out in his fingers. Kate smiled + mischievously. The astute young woman had detected the pitiable + subterfuge. For what else did she stand at the head of her class, and had + doting parents paid three years' tuition? + </p> + <p> + The storm had passed, and the sun was shining quite cheerily in the + eastern recitation room the next morning when Miss Kate, whose seat was + nearest the window, placing her hand pathetically upon her heart, affected + to fall in bashful and extreme agitation upon the shoulder of Carry, her + neighbor. “HE has come,” she gasped in a thrilling whisper. “Who?” asked + Carry sympathetically, who never clearly understood when Kate was in + earnest. “Who?—Why, the man who rescued us last night! I saw him + drive to the door this moment. Don't speak; I shall be better in a moment—there!” + she said, and the shameless hypocrite passed her hand pathetically across + her forehead with a tragic air. + </p> + <p> + “What can he want?” asked Carry, whose curiosity was excited. “I don't + know,” said Kate, suddenly relapsing into gloomy cynicism. “Possibly to + put his five daughters to school; perhaps to finish his young wife, and + warn her against us.” + </p> + <p> + “He didn't look old, and he didn't seem like a married man,” rejoined Addy + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “That was his art, you poor creature!” returned Kate scornfully. “You can + never tell anything of these men, they are so deceitful. Besides, it's + just my fate!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Kate,” began Carry, in serious concern. + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Miss Walker is saying something,” said Kate, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “The young ladies will please give attention,” said a slow, perfunctory + voice. “Miss Carry Tretherick is wanted in the parlor.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime Mr. Jack Prince, the name given on the card, and various letters + and credentials submitted to the Rev. Mr. Crammer, paced the somewhat + severe apartment known publicly as the “reception parlor” and privately to + the pupils as “purgatory.” His keen eyes had taken in the various rigid + details, from the flat steam “radiator,” like an enormous japanned soda + cracker, that heated one end of the room to the monumental bust of Dr. + Crammer that hopelessly chilled the other; from the Lord's Prayer, + executed by a former writing master in such gratuitous variety of elegant + calligraphic trifling as to abate considerably the serious value of the + composition, to three views of Genoa from the Institute, which nobody ever + recognized, taken on the spot by the drawing teacher; from two illuminated + texts of Scripture in an English letter, so gratuitously and hideously + remote as to chill all human interest, to a large photograph of the senior + class, in which the prettiest girls were Ethiopian in complexion, and sat, + apparently, on each other's heads and shoulders. His fingers had turned + listlessly the leaves of school-catalogues, the SERMONS of Dr. Crammer, + the POEMS of Henry Kirke White, the LAYS OF THE SANCTUARY and LIVES OF + CELEBRATED WOMEN. His fancy, and it was a nervously active one, had gone + over the partings and greetings that must have taken place here, and + wondered why the apartment had yet caught so little of the flavor of + humanity; indeed, I am afraid he had almost forgotten the object of his + visit when the door opened, and Carry Tretherick stood before him. + </p> + <p> + It was one of those faces he had seen the night before, prettier even than + it had seemed then; and yet I think he was conscious of some + disappointment, without knowing exactly why. Her abundant waving hair was + of a guinea-golden tint, her complexion of a peculiar flowerlike delicacy, + her brown eyes of the color of seaweed in deep water. It certainly was not + her beauty that disappointed him. + </p> + <p> + Without possessing his sensitiveness to impression, Carry was, on her + part, quite as vaguely ill at ease. She saw before her one of those men + whom the sex would vaguely generalize as “nice,” that is to say, correct + in all the superficial appointments of style, dress, manners, and feature. + Yet there was a decidedly unconventional quality about him: he was totally + unlike anything or anybody that she could remember; and as the attributes + of originality are often as apt to alarm as to attract people, she was not + entirely prepossessed in his favor. + </p> + <p> + “I can hardly hope,” he began pleasantly, “that you remember me. It is + eleven years ago, and you were a very little girl. I am afraid I cannot + even claim to have enjoyed that familiarity that might exist between a + child of six and a young man of twenty-one. I don't think I was fond of + children. But I knew your mother very well. I was editor of the AVALANCHE + in Fiddletown when she took you to San Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean my stepmother; she wasn't my mother, you know,” interposed Carry + hastily. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Prince looked at her curiously. “I mean your stepmother,” he said + gravely. “I never had the pleasure of meeting your mother.” + </p> + <p> + “No; MOTHER hasn't been in California these twelve years.” + </p> + <p> + There was an intentional emphasizing of the title and of its distinction + that began to interest coldly Prince after his first astonishment was + past. + </p> + <p> + “As I come from your stepmother now,” he went on with a slight laugh, “I + must ask you to go back for a few moments to that point. After your + father's death, your mother—I mean your stepmother—recognized + the fact that your mother, the first Mrs. Tretherick, was legally and + morally your guardian and, although much against her inclination and + affections, placed you again in her charge.” + </p> + <p> + “My stepmother married again within a month after father died, and sent me + home,” said Carry with great directness, and the faintest toss of her + head. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Prince smiled so sweetly, and apparently so sympathetically, that + Carry began to like him. With no other notice of the interruption he went + on, “After your stepmother had performed this act of simple justice, she + entered into an agreement with your mother to defray the expenses of your + education until your eighteenth year, when you were to elect and choose + which of the two should thereafter be your guardian, and with whom you + would make your home. This agreement, I think, you are already aware of, + and, I believe, knew at the time.” + </p> + <p> + “I was a mere child then,” said Carry. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Mr. Prince, with the same smile. “Still the conditions, + I think, have never been oppressive to you nor your mother; and the only + time they are likely to give you the least uneasiness will be when you + come to make up your mind in the choice of your guardian. That will be on + your eighteenth birthday—the twentieth, I think, of the present + month.” + </p> + <p> + Carry was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Pray do not think that I am here to receive your decision, even if it be + already made. I only came to inform you that your stepmother, Mrs. + Starbottle, will be in town tomorrow, and will pass a few days at the + hotel. If it is your wish to see her before you make up your mind, she + will be glad to meet you. She does not, however, wish to do anything to + influence your judgment. + </p> + <p> + “Does Mother know she is coming?” said Carry hastily. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” said Prince gravely. “I only know that if you conclude to + see Mrs. Starbottle, it will be with your mother's permission. Mrs. + Starbottle will keep sacredly this part of the agreement, made ten years + ago. But her health is very poor; and the change and country quiet of a + few days may benefit her.” Mr. Prince bent his keen, bright eyes upon the + young girl, and almost held his breath until she spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “Mother's coming up today or tomorrow,” she said, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Mr. Prince with a sweet and languid smile. + </p> + <p> + “Is Colonel Starbottle here too?” asked Carry, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Starbottle is dead. Your stepmother is again a widow.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” repeated Carry. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Mr. Prince. “Your stepmother has been singularly + unfortunate in surviving her affections.” + </p> + <p> + Carry did not know what he meant, and looked so. Mr. Prince smiled + reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + Presently Carry began to whimper. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Prince softly stepped beside her chair. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he said with a very peculiar light in his eye, and a + singular dropping of the corners of his mustache—“I am afraid you + are taking this too deeply. It will be some days before you are called + upon to make a decision. Let us talk of something else. I hope you caught + no cold last evening.” + </p> + <p> + Carry's face shone out again in dimples. + </p> + <p> + “You must have thought us so queer! It was too bad to give you so much + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever, I assure you. My sense of propriety,” he added demurely, + “which might have been outraged had I been called upon to help three young + ladies out of a schoolroom window at night, was deeply gratified at being + able to assist them in again.” The doorbell rang loudly, and Mr. Prince + rose. “Take your own time, and think well before you make your decision.” + But Carry's ear and attention were given to the sound of voices in the + hall. At the same moment, the door was thrown open, and a servant + announced, “Mrs. Tretherick and Mr. Robinson.” + </p> + <p> + The afternoon train had just shrieked out its usual indignant protest at + stopping at Genoa at all as Mr. Jack Prince entered the outskirts of the + town, and drove toward his hotel. He was wearied and cynical. A drive of a + dozen miles through unpicturesque outlying villages, past small economic + farmhouses, and hideous villas that violated his fastidious taste, had, I + fear, left that gentleman in a captious state of mind. He would have even + avoided his taciturn landlord as he drove up to the door; but that + functionary waylaid him on the steps. “There's a lady in the sittin'-room, + waitin' for ye.” Mr. Prince hurried upstairs, and entered the room as Mrs. + Starbottle flew toward him. + </p> + <p> + She had changed sadly in the last ten years. Her figure was wasted to half + its size. The beautiful curves of her bust and shoulders were broken or + inverted. The once full, rounded arm was shrunken in its sleeve; and the + golden hoops that encircled her wan wrists almost slipped from her hands + as her long, scant fingers closed convulsively around Jack's. Her + cheekbones were painted that afternoon with the hectic of fever: somewhere + in the hollows of those cheeks were buried the dimples of long ago, but + their graves were forgotten. Her lustrous eyes were still beautiful, + though the orbits were deeper than before. Her mouth was still sweet, + although the lips parted more easily over the little teeth, even in + breathing, and showed more of them than she was wont to do before. The + glory of her blond hair was still left: it was finer, more silken and + ethereal, yet it failed even in its plenitude to cover the hollows of the + blue-veined temples. + </p> + <p> + “Clara!” said Jack reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, forgive me, Jack!” she said, falling into a chair, but still clinging + to his hand—“forgive me, dear; but I could not wait longer. I should + have died, Jack—died before another night. Bear with me a little + longer (it will not be long), but let me stay. I may not see her, I know; + I shall not speak to her: but it's so sweet to feel that I am at last near + her, that I breathe the same air with my darling. I am better already, + Jack, I am indeed. And you have seen her today? How did she look? What did + she say? Tell me all, everything, Jack. Was she beautiful? They say she + is. Has she grown? Would you have known her again? Will she come, Jack? + Perhaps she has been here already; perhaps”—she had risen with + tremulous excitement, and was glancing at the door—“perhaps she is + here now. Why don't you speak, Jack? Tell me all.” + </p> + <p> + The keen eyes that looked down into hers were glistening with an infinite + tenderness that none, perhaps, but she would have deemed them capable of. + “Clara,” he said gently and cheerily, “try and compose yourself. You are + trembling now with the fatigue and excitement of your journey. I have seen + Carry; she is well and beautiful. Let that suffice you now.” + </p> + <p> + His gentle firmness composed and calmed her now, as it had often done + before. Stroking her thin hand, he said, after a pause, “Did Carry ever + write to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Twice, thanking me for some presents. They were only schoolgirl letters,” + she added, nervously answering the interrogation of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Did she ever know of your own troubles? of your poverty, of the + sacrifices you made to pay her bills, of your pawning your clothes and + jewels, of your—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” interrupted the woman quickly: “no! How could she? I have no + enemy cruel enough to tell her that.” + </p> + <p> + “But if she—or if Mrs. Tretherick—had heard of it? If Carry + thought you were poor, and unable to support her properly, it might + influence her decision. Young girls are fond of the position that wealth + can give. She may have rich friends, maybe a lover.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Starbottle winced at the last sentence. “But,” she said eagerly, + grasping Jack's hand, “when you found me sick and helpless at Sacramento, + when you—God bless you for it, Jack!—offered to help me to the + East, you said you knew of something, you had some plan, that would make + me and Carry independent.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jack hastily; “but I want you to get strong and well first. + And, now that you are calmer, you shall listen to my visit to the school.” + </p> + <p> + It was then that Mr. Jack Prince proceeded to describe the interview + already recorded, with a singular felicity and discretion that shames my + own account of that proceeding. Without suppressing a single fact, without + omitting a word or detail, he yet managed to throw a poetic veil over that + prosaic episode, to invest the heroine with a romantic roseate atmosphere, + which, though not perhaps entirely imaginary, still, I fear, exhibited + that genius which ten years ago had made the columns of THE FIDDLETOWN + AVALANCHE at once fascinating and instructive. It was not until he saw the + heightening color, and heard the quick breathing, of his eager listener, + that he felt a pang of self-reproach. “God help her and forgive me!” he + muttered between his clinched teeth; “but how can I tell her ALL now!” + </p> + <p> + That night, when Mrs. Starbottle laid her weary head upon her pillow, she + tried to picture to herself Carry at the same moment sleeping peacefully + in the great schoolhouse on the hill; and it was a rare comfort to this + yearning, foolish woman to know that she was so near. But at this moment + Carry was sitting on the edge of her bed, half-undressed, pouting her + pretty lips and twisting her long, leonine locks between her fingers as + Miss Kate Van Corlear—dramatically wrapped in a long white + counterpane, her black eyes sparkling, and her thoroughbred nose thrown + high in air—stood over her like a wrathful and indignant ghost; for + Carry had that evening imparted her woes and her history to Miss Kate, and + that young lady had “proved herself no friend” by falling into a state of + fiery indignation over Carry's “ingratitude,” and openly and shamelessly + espousing the claims of Mrs. Starbottle. “Why, if the half you tell me is + true, your mother and those Robinsons are making of you not only a little + coward, but a little snob, miss. Respectability, forsooth! Look you, my + family are centuries before the Trethericks; but if my family had ever + treated me in this way, and then asked me to turn my back on my best + friend, I'd whistle them down the wind;” and here Kate snapped her + fingers, bent her black brows, and glared around the room as if in search + of a recreant Van Corlear. + </p> + <p> + “You just talk this way because you have taken a fancy to that Mr. + Prince,” said Carry. + </p> + <p> + In the debasing slang of the period, that had even found its way into the + virgin cloisters of the Crammer Institute, Miss Kate, as she afterward + expressed it, instantly “went for her.” + </p> + <p> + First, with a shake of her head, she threw her long black hair over one + shoulder, then, dropping one end of the counterpane from the other like a + vestal tunic, she stepped before Carry with a purposely exaggerated + classic stride. “And what if I have, miss! What if I happen to know a + gentleman when I see him! What if I happen to know that among a thousand + such traditional, conventional, feeble editions of their grandfathers as + Mr. Harry Robinson, you cannot find one original, independent, + individualized gentleman like your Prince! Go to bed, miss, and pray to + Heaven that he may be YOUR Prince indeed. Ask to have a contrite and + grateful heart, and thank the Lord in particular for having sent you such + a friend as Kate Van Corlear.” Yet, after an imposing dramatic exit, she + reappeared the next moment as a straight white flash, kissed Carry between + the brows, and was gone. + </p> + <p> + The next day was a weary one to Jack Prince. He was convinced in his mind + that Carry would not come; yet to keep this consciousness from Mrs. + Starbottle, to meet her simple hopefulness with an equal degree of + apparent faith, was a hard and difficult task. He would have tried to + divert her mind by taking her on a long drive; but she was fearful that + Carry might come during her absence; and her strength, he was obliged to + admit, had failed greatly. As he looked into her large and awe-inspiring + clear eyes, a something he tried to keep from his mind—to put off + day by day from contemplation—kept asserting itself directly to his + inner consciousness. He began to doubt the expediency and wisdom of his + management. He recalled every incident of his interview with Carry, and + half-believed that its failure was due to himself. Yet Mrs. Starbottle was + very patient and confident; her very confidence shook his faith in his own + judgment. When her strength was equal to the exertion, she was propped up + in her chair by the window, where she could see the school and the + entrance to the hotel. In the intervals she would elaborate pleasant plans + for the future, and would sketch a country home. She had taken a strange + fancy, as it seemed to Prince, to the present location; but it was notable + that the future, always thus outlined, was one of quiet and repose. She + believed she would get well soon; in fact, she thought she was now much + better than she had been, but it might be long before she should be quite + strong again. She would whisper on in this way until Jack would dash madly + down into the barroom, order liquors that he did not drink, light cigars + that he did not smoke, talk with men that he did not listen to, and behave + generally as our stronger sex is apt to do in periods of delicate trials + and perplexity. + </p> + <p> + The day closed with a clouded sky and a bitter, searching wind. With the + night fell a few wandering flakes of snow. She was still content and + hopeful; and, as Jack wheeled her from the window to the fire, she + explained to him how that, as the school term was drawing near its close, + Carry was probably kept closely at her lessons during the day, and could + only leave the school at night. So she sat up the greater part of the + evening, and combed her silken hair, and as far as her strength would + allow, made an undress toilet to receive her guest. “We must not frighten + the child, Jack,” she said apologetically, and with something of her old + coquetry. + </p> + <p> + It was with a feeling of relief that, at ten o'clock, Jack received a + message from the landlord, saying that the doctor would like to see him + for a moment downstairs. As Jack entered the grim, dimly lighted parlor, + he observed the hooded figure of a woman near the fire. He was about to + withdraw again when a voice that he remembered very pleasantly said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's all right! I'm the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + The hood was thrown back, and Prince saw the shining black hair and black, + audacious eyes of Kate Van Corlear. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask any questions. I'm the doctor, and there's my prescription,” + and she pointed to the half-frightened, half-sobbing Carry in the corner—“to + be taken at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Mrs. Tretherick has given her permission?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much, if I know the sentiments of that lady,” replied Kate saucily. + </p> + <p> + “Then how did you get away?” asked Prince gravely. + </p> + <p> + “BY THE WINDOW.” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Prince had left Carry in the arms of her stepmother, he returned + to the parlor. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” demanded Kate. + </p> + <p> + “She will stay—YOU will, I hope, also—tonight.” + </p> + <p> + “As I shall not be eighteen, and my own mistress on the twentieth, and as + I haven't a sick stepmother, I won't.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you will give me the pleasure of seeing you safely through the + window again?” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Prince returned an hour later, he found Carry sitting on a low + stool at Mrs. Starbottle's feet. Her head was in her stepmother's lap, and + she had sobbed herself to sleep. Mrs. Starbottle put her finger to her + lip. “I told you she would come. God bless you, Jack! and good night.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Tretherick, indignant, the Rev. Asa Crammer, + principal, injured, and Mr. Joel Robinson, Sr., complacently respectable, + called upon Mr. Prince. There was a stormy meeting, ending in a demand for + Carry. “We certainly cannot admit of this interference,” said Mrs. + Tretherick, a fashionably dressed, indistinctive-looking woman. “It is + several days before the expiration of our agreement; and we do not feel, + under the circumstances, justified in releasing Mrs. Starbottle from its + conditions.” “Until the expiration of the school term, we must consider + Miss Tretherick as complying entirely with its rules and discipline,” + imposed Dr. Crammer. “The whole proceeding is calculated to injure the + prospects, and compromise the position, of Miss Tretherick in society,” + suggested Mr. Robinson. + </p> + <p> + In vain Mr. Prince urged the failing condition of Mrs. Starbottle, her + absolute freedom from complicity with Carry's flight, the pardonable and + natural instincts of the girl, and his own assurance that they were + willing to abide by her decision. And then, with a rising color in his + cheek, a dangerous look in his eye, but a singular calmness in his speech, + he added: + </p> + <p> + “One word more. It becomes my duty to inform you of a circumstance which + would certainly justify me, as an executor of the late Mr. Tretherick, in + fully resisting your demands. A few months after Mr. Tretherick's death, + through the agency of a Chinaman in his employment, it was discovered that + he had made a will, which was subsequently found among his papers. The + insignificant value of his bequest—mostly land, then quite valueless—prevented + his executors from carrying out his wishes, or from even proving the will, + or making it otherwise publicly known, until within the last two or three + years, when the property had enormously increased in value. The provisions + of that bequest are simple, but unmistakable. The property is divided + between Carry and her stepmother, with the explicit condition that Mrs. + Starbottle shall become her legal guardian, provide for her education, and + in all details stand to her IN LOCO PARENTIS.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the value of this bequest?” asked Mr. Robinson. “I cannot tell + exactly, but not far from half a million, I should say,” returned Prince. + “Certainly, with this knowledge, as a friend of Miss Tretherick I must say + that her conduct is as judicious as it is honorable to her,” responded Mr. + Robinson. “I shall not presume to question the wishes, or throw any + obstacles in the way of carrying out the intentions, of my dead husband,” + added Mrs. Tretherick; and the interview was closed. + </p> + <p> + When its result was made known to Mrs. Starbottle, she raised Jack's hand + to her feverish lips. “It cannot add to MY happiness now, Jack; but tell + me, why did you keep it from her?” Jack smiled, but did not reply. + </p> + <p> + Within the next week the necessary legal formalities were concluded, and + Carry was restored to her stepmother. At Mrs. Starbottle's request, a + small house in the outskirts of the town was procured; and thither they + removed to wait the spring, and Mrs. Starbottle's convalescence. Both came + tardily that year. + </p> + <p> + Yet she was happy and patient. She was fond of watching the budding of the + trees beyond her window—a novel sight to her Californian experience—and + of asking Carry their names and seasons. Even at this time she projected + for that summer, which seemed to her so mysteriously withheld, long walks + with Carry through the leafy woods, whose gray, misty ranks she could see + along the hilltop. She even thought she could write poetry about them, and + recalled the fact as evidence of her gaining strength; and there is, I + believe, still treasured by one of the members of this little household a + little carol so joyous, so simple, and so innocent that it might have been + an echo of the robin that called to her from the window, as perhaps it + was. + </p> + <p> + And then, without warning, there dropped from Heaven a day so tender, so + mystically soft, so dreamily beautiful, so throbbing and alive with the + fluttering of invisible wings, so replete and bounteously overflowing with + an awakening and joyous resurrection not taught by man or limited by + creed, that they thought it fit to bring her out and lay her in that + glorious sunshine that sprinkled like the droppings of a bridal torch the + happy lintels and doors. And there she lay beatified and calm. + </p> + <p> + Wearied by watching, Carry had fallen asleep by her side; and Mrs. + Starbottle's thin fingers lay like a benediction on her head. Presently + she called Jack to her side. + </p> + <p> + “Who was that,” she whispered, “who just came in?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Van Corlear,” said Jack, answering the look in her great hollow + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Jack,” she said, after a moment's silence, “sit by me a moment; dear + Jack: I've something I must say. If I ever seemed hard, or cold, or + coquettish to you in the old days, it was because I loved you, Jack, too + well to mar your future by linking it with my own. I always loved you, + dear Jack, even when I seemed least worthy of you. That is gone now. But I + had a dream lately, Jack, a foolish woman's dream—that you might + find what I lacked in HER,” and she glanced lovingly at the sleeping girl + at her side; “that you might love her as you have loved me. But even that + is not to be, Jack, is it?” and she glanced wistfully in his face. Jack + pressed her hand, but did not speak. After a few moments' silence, she + again said: “Perhaps you are right in your choice. She is a goodhearted + girl, Jack—but a little bold.” + </p> + <p> + And with this last flicker of foolish, weak humanity in her struggling + spirit, she spoke no more. When they came to her a moment later, a tiny + bird that had lit upon her breast flew away; and the hand that they lifted + from Carry's head fell lifeless at her side. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BARKER'S LUCK + </h2> + <p> + A bird twittered! The morning sun shining through the open window was + apparently more potent than the cool mountain air, which had only caused + the sleeper to curl a little more tightly in his blankets. Barker's eyes + opened instantly upon the light and the bird on the window ledge. Like all + healthy young animals he would have tried to sleep again, but with his + momentary consciousness came the recollection that it was his turn to cook + the breakfast that morning, and he regretfully rolled out of his bunk to + the floor. Without stopping to dress, he opened the door and stepped + outside, secure in the knowledge that he was overlooked only by the + Sierras, and plunged his head and shoulders in the bucket of cold water + that stood by the door. Then he began to clothe himself, partly in the + cabin and partly in the open air, with a lapse between the putting on of + his trousers and coat which he employed in bringing in wood. Raking + together the few embers on the adobe hearth, not without a prudent regard + to the rattlesnake which had once been detected in haunting the warm + ashes, he began to prepare breakfast. By this time the other sleepers, his + partners Stacy and Demorest, young men of about his own age, were awake, + alert, and lazily critical of his progress. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care about my quail on toast being underdone for breakfast,” said + Stacy, with a yawn; “and you needn't serve with red wine. I'm not feeling + very peckish this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “And I reckon you can knock off the fried oysters after the Spanish + mackerel for ME,” said Demorest gravely. “The fact is, that last bottle of + Veuve Clicquot we had for supper wasn't as dry as I am this morning.” + </p> + <p> + Accustomed to these regular Barmecide suggestions, Barker made no direct + reply. Presently, looking up from the fire, he said, “There's no more + saleratus, so you mustn't blame me if the biscuit is extra heavy. I told + you we had none when you went to the grocery yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “And I told you we hadn't a red cent to buy any with,” said Stacy, who was + also treasurer. “Put these two negatives together and you make the + affirmative—saleratus. Mix freely and bake in a hot oven.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, after a toilet as primitive as Barker's they sat down to + what he had prepared with the keen appetite begotten of the mountain air + and the regretful fastidiousness born of the recollection of better + things. Jerked beef, frizzled with salt pork in a frying-pan, boiled + potatoes, biscuit, and coffee composed the repast. The biscuits, however, + proving remarkably heavy after the first mouthful, were used as missiles, + thrown through the open door at an empty bottle which had previously + served as a mark for revolver practice, and a few moments later pipes were + lit to counteract the effects of the meal and take the taste out of their + mouths. Suddenly they heard the sound of horses' hoofs, saw the quick + passage of a rider in the open space before the cabin, and felt the smart + impact upon the table of some small object thrown by him. It was the + regular morning delivery of the county newspaper! + </p> + <p> + “He's getting to be a mighty sure shot,” said Demorest approvingly, + looking at his upset can of coffee as he picked up the paper, rolled into + a cylindrical wad as tightly as a cartridge, and began to straighten it + out. This was no easy matter, as the sheet had evidently been rolled while + yet damp from the press; but Demorest eventually opened it and ensconced + himself behind it. + </p> + <p> + “Nary news?” asked Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “No. There never is any,” said Demorest scornfully. “We ought to stop the + paper.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the paper man ought to. WE don't pay him,” said Barker gently. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's the same thing, smarty. No news, no pay. Hallo!” he + continued, his eyes suddenly riveted on the paper. Then, after the fashion + of ordinary humanity, he stopped short and read the interesting item to + himself. When he had finished he brought his fist and the paper, together, + violently down upon the table. “Now look at this! Talk of luck, will you? + Just think of it. Here are WE—hard-working men with lots of sabe, + too—grubbin' away on this hillside like niggers, glad to get enough + at the end of the day to pay for our soggy biscuits and horse-bean coffee, + and just look what falls into the lap of some lazy sneakin' greenhorn who + never did a stoke of work in his life! Here are WE, with no foolishness, + no airs nor graces, and yet men who would do credit to twice that amount + of luck—and seem born to it, too—and we're set aside for some + long, lank, pen-wiping scrub who just knows enough to sit down on his + office stool and hold on to a bit of paper.” + </p> + <p> + “What's up now?” asked Stacy, with the carelessness begotten of + familiarity with his partner's extravagance. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” said Demorest, reading. “Another unprecedented rise has taken + place in the shares of the 'Yellow Hammer First Extension Mine' since the + sinking of the new shaft. It was quoted yesterday at ten thousand dollars + a foot. When it is remembered that scarcely two years ago the original + shares, issued at fifty dollars per share, had dropped to only fifty cents + a share, it will be seen that those who were able to hold on have got a + good thing.” + </p> + <p> + “What mine did you say?” asked Barker, looking up meditatively from the + dishes he was already washing. + </p> + <p> + “The Yellow Hammer First Extension,” returned Demorest shortly. + </p> + <p> + “I used to have some shares in that, and I think I have them still,” said + Barker musingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Demorest promptly; “the paper speaks of it here. 'We + understand,'” he continued, reading aloud, “'that our eminent fellow + citizen, George Barker, otherwise known as “Get Left Barker” and + “Chucklehead,” is one of these fortunate individuals.'” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Barker, with a slight flush of innocent pleasure, “it can't say + that. How could it know?” + </p> + <p> + Stacy laughed, but Demorest coolly continued: “You didn't hear all. + Listen! 'We say WAS one of them; but having already sold his apparently + useless certificates to our popular druggist, Jones, for corn plasters, at + a reduced rate, he is unable to realize.'” + </p> + <p> + “You may laugh, boys,” said Barker, with simple seriousness; “but I really + believe I have got 'em yet. Just wait. I'll see!” He rose and began to + drag out a well-worn valise from under his bunk. “You see,” he continued, + “they were given to me by an old chap in return—” + </p> + <p> + “For saving his life by delaying the Stockton boat that afterward blew + up,” returned Demorest briefly. “We know it all! His hair was white, and + his hand trembled slightly as he laid these shares in yours, saying, and + you never forgot the words, 'Take 'em, young man—and'—” + </p> + <p> + “For lending him two thousand dollars, then,” continued Barker with a + simple ignoring of the interruption, as he quietly brought out the valise. + </p> + <p> + “TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!” repeated Stacy. “When did YOU have two thousand + dollars?” + </p> + <p> + “When I first left Sacramento—three years ago,” said Barker, + unstrapping the valise. + </p> + <p> + “How long did you have it?” said Demorest incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “At least two days, I think,” returned Barker quietly. “Then I met that + man. He was hard-up, and I lent him my pile and took those shares. He died + afterward.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he did,” said Demorest severely. “They always do. Nothing kills + a man more quickly than an action of that kind.” Nevertheless the two + partners regarded Barker rummaging among some loose clothes and papers + with a kind of paternal toleration. “If you can't find them, bring out + your government bonds,” suggested Stacy. But the next moment, flushed and + triumphant, Barker rose from his knees, and came toward them carrying some + papers in his hands. Demorest seized them from him, opened them, spread + them on the table, examined hurriedly the date, signatures, and transfers, + glanced again quickly at the newspaper paragraph, looked wildly at Stacy + and then at Barker, and gasped: + </p> + <p> + “By the living hookey! it is SO!” + </p> + <p> + “B'gosh! he HAS got 'em!” echoed Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty shares,” continued Demorest breathlessly, “at ten thousand dollars + a share—even if it's only a foot—is two hundred thousand + dollars! Jerusalem!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, fair sir,” said Stacy, with sparkling eyes, “hast still left in + yonder casket any rare jewels, rubies, sarcenet, or links of fine gold? + Peradventure a pearl or two may have been overlooked!” + </p> + <p> + “No—that's all,” returned Barker simply. + </p> + <p> + “You hear him! Rothschild says 'that's all.' Prince Esterhazy says he + hasn't another red cent—only two hundred thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “What ought I to do, boys?” asked Barker, timidly glancing from one to the + other. Yet he remembered with delight all that day, and for many a year + afterward, that he saw in their faces only unselfish joy and affection at + that supreme moment. + </p> + <p> + “Do?” said Demorest promptly. “Stand on your head and yell! No! stop! Come + here!” He seized both Barker and Stacy by the hand, and ran out into the + open air. Here they danced violently with clasped hands around a small + buckeye, in perfect silence, and then returned to the cabin, grave but + perspiring. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Barker, wiping his forehead, “we'll just get some money + on these certificates and buy up that next claim which belongs to old + Carter—where you know we thought we saw the indication.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll do nothing of the kind,” said Demorest decidedly. “WE ain't in it. + That money is yours, old chap—every cent of it—property + acquired before marriage, you know; and the only thing we'll do is to be + damned before we'll see you drop a dime of it into this Godforsaken hole. + No!” + </p> + <p> + “But we're partners,” gasped Barker. + </p> + <p> + “Not in THIS! The utmost we can do for you, opulent sir—though it + ill becomes us horny-handed sons of toil to rub shoulders with Dives—is + perchance to dine with you, to take a pasty and a glass of Malvoisie, at + some restaurant in Sacramento—when you've got things fixed, in honor + of your return to affluence. But more would ill become us!” + </p> + <p> + “But what are YOU going to do?” said Barker, with a half-hysteric, + half-frightened smile. + </p> + <p> + “We have not yet looked through our luggage,” said Demorest with + invincible gravity, “and there's a secret recess—a double FOND—to + my portmanteau, known only to a trusty page, which has not been disturbed + since I left my ancestral home in Faginia. There may be a few First + Debentures of Erie or what not still there.” + </p> + <p> + “I felt some strange, disklike protuberances in my dress suit the other + day, but belike they are but poker chips,” said Stacy thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + An uneasy feeling crept over Barker. The color which had left his fresh + cheek returned to it quickly, and he turned his eyes away. Yet he had seen + nothing in his companions' eyes but affection—with even a certain + kind of tender commiseration that deepened his uneasiness. “I suppose,” he + said desperately, after a pause, “I ought to go over to Boomville and make + some inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + “At the bank, old chap; at the bank!” said Demorest emphatically. “Take my + advice and don't go ANYWHERE ELSE. Don't breathe a word of your luck to + anybody. And don't, whatever you do, be tempted to sell just now; you + don't know how high that stock's going to jump yet.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” stammered Barker, “that you boys might like to go over with + me.” + </p> + <p> + “We can't afford to take another holiday on grub wages, and we're only two + to work today,” said Demorest, with a slight increase of color and the + faintest tremor in his voice. “And it won't do, old chap, for us to be + seen bumming round with you on the heels of your good fortune. For + everybody knows we're poor, and sooner or later everybody'll know you WERE + rich even when you first came to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Barker indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Gospel, my boy!” said Demorest shortly. + </p> + <p> + “The frozen truth, old man!” said Stacy. + </p> + <p> + Barker took up his hat with some stiffness and moved toward the door. Here + he stopped irresolutely, an irresolution that seemed to communicate itself + to his partners. There was a moment's awkward silence. Then Demorest + suddenly seized him by the shoulders with a grip that was half a caress, + and walked him rapidly to the door. “And now don't stand foolin' with us, + Barker boy; but just trot off like a little man, and get your grip on that + fortune; and when you've got your hooks in it hang on like grim death. + You'll”—he hesitated for an instant only, possibly to find the laugh + that should have accompanied his speech—“you're sure to find US here + when you get back.” + </p> + <p> + Hurt to the quick, but restraining his feelings, Barker clapped his hat on + his head and walked quickly away. The two partners stood watching him in + silence until his figure was lost in the underbrush. Then they spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Like him—wasn't it?” said Demorest. + </p> + <p> + “Just him all over,” said Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “Think of him having that stock stowed away all these years and never even + bothering his dear old head about it!” + </p> + <p> + “And think of his wanting to put the whole thing into this rotten hillside + with us!” + </p> + <p> + “And he'd have done it, by gosh! and never thought of it again. That's + Barker.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear old man!” + </p> + <p> + “Good old chap!” + </p> + <p> + “I've been wondering if one of us oughtn't to have gone with him? He's + just as likely to pour his money into the first lap that opens for it,” + said Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “The more reason why we shouldn't prevent him, or seem to prevent him,” + said Demorest almost fiercely. “There will be knaves and fools enough who + will try and put the idea of our using him into his simple heart without + that. No! Let him do as he likes with it—but let him be himself. I'd + rather have him come back to us even after he's lost the money—his + old self and empty-handed—than try to change the stuff God put into + him and make him more like others.” + </p> + <p> + The tone and manner were so different from Demorest's usual levity that + Stacy was silent. After a pause he said: “Well! we shall miss him on the + hillside—won't we?” + </p> + <p> + Demorest did not reply. Reaching out his hand abstractedly, he wrenched + off a small slip from a sapling near him, and began slowly to pull the + leaves off, one by one, until they were all gone. Then he switched it in + the air, struck his bootleg smartly with it, said roughly: “Come, let's + get to work!” and strode away. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Barker on his way to Boomville was no less singular in his + manner. He kept up his slightly affected attitude until he had lost sight + of the cabin. But, being of a simple nature, his emotions were less + complex. If he had not seen the undoubted look of affection in the eyes of + his partners he would have imagined that they were jealous of his good + fortune. Yet why had they refused his offer to share it with him? Why had + they so strangely assumed that their partnership with him had closed? Why + had they declined to go with him? Why had this money—of which he had + thought so little, and for which he had cared so little—changed them + toward him? It had not changed HIM—HE was the same! He remembered + how they had often talked and laughed over a prospective “strike” in + mining and speculated what THEY would do together with the money! And now + that “luck” had occurred to one of them, individually, the effect was only + to alienate them! He could not make it out. He was hurt, wounded—yet + oddly enough he was conscious now of a certain power within him to hurt + and wound in retribution. He was rich: he would let them see HE could do + without them. He was quite free now to think only of himself and Kitty. + </p> + <p> + For it must be recorded that with all this young gentleman's simplicity + and unselfishness, with all his loyal attitude to his partners, his FIRST + thought at the moment he grasped the fact of his wealth was of a young + lady. It was Kitty Carter, the daughter of the hotelkeeper at Boomville, + who owned the claim that the partners had mutually coveted. That a pretty + girl's face should flash upon him with his conviction that he was now a + rich man meant perhaps no disloyalty to his partners, whom he would still + have helped. But it occurred to him now, in his half-hurt, half-vengeful + state, that they had often joked him about Kitty, and perhaps further + confidence with them was debarred. And it was only due to his dignity that + he should now see Kitty at once. + </p> + <p> + This was easy enough, for in the naive simplicity of Boomville and the + economic arrangements of her father, she occasionally waited upon the + hotel table. Half the town was always actively in love with her; the other + half HAD BEEN, and was silent, cynical, but hopeless in defeat. For Kitty + was one of those singularly pretty girls occasionally met with in + Southwestern frontier civilization whose distinct and original refinement + of face and figure were so remarkable and original as to cast a doubt on + the sagacity and prescience of one parent and the morality of the other, + yet no doubt with equal injustice. But the fact remained that she was + slight, graceful, and self-contained, and moved beside her stumpy, + commonplace father, and her faded, commonplace mother in the dining-room + of the Boomville Hotel like some distinguished alien. The three partners, + by virtue, perhaps, of their college education and refined manners, had + been exceptionally noticed by Kitty. And for some occult reason—the + more serious, perhaps, because it had no obvious or logical presumption to + the world generally—Barker was particularly favored. + </p> + <p> + He quickened his pace, and as the flagstaff of the Boomville Hotel rose + before him in the little hollow, he seriously debated whether he had not + better go to the bank first, deposit his shares, and get a small advance + on them to buy a new necktie or a “boiled shirt” in which to present + himself to Miss Kitty; but, remembering that he had partly given his word + to Demorest that he would keep his shares intact for the present, he + abandoned this project, probably from the fact that his projected + confidence with Kitty was already a violation of Demorest's injunctions of + secrecy, and his conscience was sufficiently burdened with that breach of + faith. + </p> + <p> + But when he reached the hotel, a strange trepidation overcame him. The + dining-room was at its slack water, between the ebb of breakfast and + before the flow of the preparation for the midday meal. He could not have + his interview with Kitty in that dreary waste of reversed chairs and bare + trestlelike tables, and she was possibly engaged in her household duties. + But Miss Kitty had already seen him cross the road, and had lounged into + the dining-room with an artfully simulated air of casually examining it. + At the unexpected vision of his hopes, arrayed in the sweetest and + freshest of rosebud-sprigged print, his heart faltered. Then, partly with + the desperation of a timid man, and partly through the working of a + half-formed resolution, he met her bright smile with a simple inquiry for + her father. Miss Kitty bit her pretty lip, smiled slightly, and preceded + him with great formality to the office. Opening the door, without raising + her lashes to either her father or the visitor, she said, with a + mischievous accenting of the professional manner, “Mr. Barker to see you + on business,” and tripped sweetly away. + </p> + <p> + And this slight incident precipitated the crisis. For Barker instantly + made up his mind that he must purchase the next claim for his partners of + this man Carter, and that he would be obliged to confide to him the + details of his good fortune, and as a proof of his sincerity and his + ability to pay for it, he did so bluntly. Carter was a shrewd business + man, and the well-known simplicity of Barker was a proof of his + truthfulness, to say nothing of the shares that were shown to him. His + selling price for his claim had been two hundred dollars, but here was a + rich customer who, from a mere foolish sentiment, would be no doubt + willing to pay more. He hesitated with a bland but superior smile. “Ah, + that was my price at my last offer, Mr. Barker,” he said suavely; “but, + you see, things are going up since then.” + </p> + <p> + The keenest duplicity is apt to fail before absolute simplicity. Barker, + thoroughly believing him, and already a little frightened at his own + presumption—not for the amount of the money involved, but from the + possibility of his partners refusing his gift utterly—quickly took + advantage of this LOCUS PENITENTIAE. “No matter, then,” he said hurriedly; + “perhaps I had better consult my partners first; in fact,” he added, with + a gratuitous truthfulness all his own, “I hardly know whether they will + take it of me, so I think I'll wait.” + </p> + <p> + Carter was staggered; this would clearly not do! He recovered himself with + an insinuating smile. “You pulled me up too short, Mr. Barker; I'm a + business man, but hang it all! what's that among friends? If you reckoned + I GAVE MY WORD at two hundred—why, I'm there! Say no more about it—the + claim's yours. I'll make you out a bill of sale at once.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” hesitated Barker, “you see I haven't got the money yet, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Money!” echoed Carter bluntly, “what's that among friends? Gimme your + note at thirty days—that's good enough for ME. An' we'll settle the + whole thing now—nothing like finishing a job while you're about it.” + And before the bewildered and doubtful visitor could protest, he had + filled up a promissory note for Barker's signature and himself signed a + bill of sale for the property. “And I reckon, Mr. Barker, you'd like to + take your partners by surprise about this little gift of yours,” he added + smilingly. “Well, my messenger is starting for the Gulch in five minutes; + he's going by your cabin, and he can just drop this bill o' sale, as a + kind o' settled fact, on 'em afore they can say anything, see! There's + nothing like actin' on the spot in these sort of things. And don't you + hurry 'bout them either! You see, you sorter owe us a friendly call—havin' + always dropped inter the hotel only as a customer—so ye'll stop here + over luncheon, and I reckon, as the old woman is busy, why Kitty will try + to make the time pass till then by playin' for you on her new pianner.” + </p> + <p> + Delighted, yet bewildered by the unexpected invitation and opportunity, + Barker mechanically signed the promissory note, and as mechanically + addressed the envelope of the bill of sale to Demorest, which Carter gave + to the messenger. Then he followed his host across the hall to the + apartment known as “Miss Kitty's parlor.” He had often heard of it as a + sanctum impervious to the ordinary guest. Whatever functions the young + girl assumed at the hotel and among her father's boarders, it was vaguely + understood that she dropped them on crossing that sacred threshold, and + became “MISS Carter.” The county judge had been entertained there, and the + wife of the bank manager. Barker's admission there was consequently an + unprecedented honor. + </p> + <p> + He cast his eyes timidly round the room, redolent and suggestive in + various charming little ways of the young girl's presence. There was the + cottage piano which had been brought up in sections on the backs of mules + from the foot of the mountain; there was a crayon head of Minerva done by + the fair occupant at the age of twelve; there was a profile of herself + done by a traveling artist; there were pretty little china ornaments and + many flowers, notably a faded but still scented woodland shrub which + Barker had presented to her two weeks ago, and over which Miss Kitty had + discreetly thrown her white handkerchief as he entered. A wave of hope + passed over him at the act, but it was quickly spent as Mr. Carter's + roughly playful voice introduced him: + </p> + <p> + “Ye kin give Mr. Barker a tune or two to pass time afore lunch, Kitty. You + kin let him see what you're doing in that line. But you'll have to sit up + now, for this young man's come inter some property, and will be sasheying + round in 'Frisco afore long with a biled shirt and a stovepipe, and be + givin' the go-by to Boomville. Well! you young folks will excuse me for a + while, as I reckon I'll just toddle over and get the recorder to put that + bill o' sale on record. Nothin' like squaring things to onct, Mr. Barker.” + </p> + <p> + As he slipped away, Barker felt his heart sink. Carter had not only + bluntly forestalled him with the news and taken away his excuse for a + confidential interview, but had put an ostentatious construction on his + visit. What could she think of him now? He stood ashamed and embarrassed + before her. + </p> + <p> + But Miss Kitty, far from noticing his embarrassment in a sudden concern + regarding the “horrid” untidiness of the room, which made her cheeks quite + pink in one spot and obliged her to take up and set down in exactly the + same place several articles, was exceedingly delighted. In fact, she did + not remember ever having been so pleased before in her life! These things + were always so unexpected! Just like the weather, for instance. It was + quite cool last night—and now it was just stifling. And so dusty! + Had Mr. Barker noticed the heat coming from the Gulch? Or perhaps, being a + rich man, he—with a dazzling smile—was above walking now. It + was so kind of him to come here first and tell her father. + </p> + <p> + “I really wanted to tell only—YOU, Miss Carter,” stammered Barker. + “You see—” he hesitated. But Miss Kitty saw perfectly. He wanted to + tell HER, and, seeing her, he asked for HER FATHER! Not that it made the + slightest difference to her, for her father would have been sure to have + told her. It was also kind of her father to invite him to luncheon. + Otherwise she might not have seen him before he left Boomville. + </p> + <p> + But this was more than Barker could stand. With the same desperate + directness and simplicity with which he had approached her father, he now + blurted out his whole heart to her. He told her how he had loved her + hopelessly from the first time that they had spoken together at the church + picnic. Did she remember it? How he had sat and worshiped her, and nothing + else, at church! How her voice in the church choir had sounded like an + angel's; how his poverty and his uncertain future had kept him from seeing + her often, lest he should be tempted to betray his hopeless passion. How + as soon as he realized that he had a position, that his love for her need + not make her ridiculous to the world's eyes, he came to tell her ALL. He + did not even dare to hope! But she would HEAR him at least, would she not? + </p> + <p> + Indeed, there was no getting away from his boyish, simple, outspoken + declaration. In vain Kitty smiled, frowned, glanced at her pink cheeks in + the glass, and stopped to look out of the window. The room was filled with + his love—it was encompassing her—and, despite his shy + attitude, seemed to be almost embracing her. But she managed at last to + turn upon him a face that was now as white and grave as his own was eager + and glowing. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” she said gently. + </p> + <p> + He did so obediently, but wonderingly. She then opened the piano and took + a seat upon the music stool before it, placed some loose sheets of music + in the rack, and ran her fingers lightly over the keys. Thus intrenched, + she let her hands fall idly in her lap, and for the first time raised her + eyes to his. + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me—be good and don't interrupt! There!—not so + near; you can hear what I have to say well enough where you are. That will + do.” + </p> + <p> + Barker had halted with the chair he was dragging toward her and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Miss Kitty, withdrawing her eyes and looking straight before + her, “I believe everything you say; perhaps I oughtn't to—or at + least SAY it—but I do. There! But because I do believe you—it + seems to me all wrong! For the very reasons that you give for not having + spoken to me BEFORE, if you really felt as you say you did, are the same + reasons why you should not speak to me now. You see, all this time you + have let nobody but yourself know how you felt toward me. In everybody's + eyes YOU and your partners have been only the three stuck-up, exclusive, + college-bred men who mined a poor claim in the Gulch, and occasionally + came here to this hotel as customers. In everybody's eyes I have been only + the rich hotel-keeper's popular daughter who sometimes waited upon you—but + nothing more. But at least we were then pretty much alike, and as good as + each other. And now, as soon as you have become suddenly rich, and, of + course, the SUPERIOR, you rush down here to ask me to acknowledge it by + accepting you!” + </p> + <p> + “You know I never meant that, Miss Kitty,” burst out Barker vehemently, + but his protest was drowned in a rapid roulade from the young lady's + fingers on the keys. He sank back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you never MEANT it,” she said with an odd laugh; “but everybody + will take it in that way, and you cannot go round to everybody in + Boomville and make the pretty declaration you have just made to me. + Everybody will say I accepted you for your money; everybody will say it + was a put-up job of my father's. Everybody will say that you threw + yourself away on me. And I don't know but that they would be right. Sit + down, please! or I shall play again. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she went on, without looking at him, “just now you like to + remember that you fell in love with me first as a pretty waiter girl, but + if I became your wife it's just what you would like to FORGET. And I + shouldn't, for I should always like to think of the time when you came + here, whenever you could afford it and sometimes when you couldn't, just + to see me; and how we used to make excuses to speak with each other over + the dishes. You don't know what these things mean to a woman who”—she + hesitated a moment, and then added abruptly, “but what does that matter? + You would not care to be reminded of it. So,” she said, rising up with a + grave smile and grasping her hands tightly behind her, “it's a good deal + better that you should begin to forget it now. Be a good boy and take my + advice. Go to San Francisco. You will meet some girl there in a way you + will not afterward regret. You are young, and your riches, to say + nothing,” she added in a faltering voice that was somewhat inconsistent + with the mischievous smile that played upon her lips, “of your kind and + simple heart, will secure that which the world would call unselfish + affection from one more equal to you, but would always believe was only + BOUGHT if it came from me.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you are right,” he said simply. + </p> + <p> + She glanced quickly at him, and her eyebrows straightened. He had risen, + his face white and his gray eyes widely opened. “I suppose you are right,” + he went on, “because you are saying to me what my partners said to me this + morning, when I offered to share my wealth with them, God knows as + honestly as I offered to share my heart with you. I suppose that you are + both right; that there must be some curse of pride or selfishness upon the + money that I have got; but I have not felt it yet, and the fault does not + lie with me.” + </p> + <p> + She gave her shoulders a slight shrug, and turned impatiently toward the + window. When she turned back again he was gone. The room around her was + empty; this room, which a moment before had seemed to be pulsating with + his boyish passion, was now empty, and empty of HIM. She bit her lips, + rose, and ran eagerly to the window. She saw his straw hat and brown curls + as he crossed the road. She drew her handkerchief sharply away from the + withered shrub over which she had thrown it, and cast the once treasured + remains in the hearth. Then, possibly because she had it ready in her + hand, she clapped the handkerchief to her eyes, and sinking sideways upon + the chair he had risen from, put her elbows on its back, and buried her + face in her hands. + </p> + <p> + It is the characteristic and perhaps cruelty of a simple nature to make no + allowance for complex motives, or to even understand them! So it seemed to + Barker that his simplicity had been met with equal directness. It was the + possession of this wealth that had in some way hopelessly changed his + relations with the world. He did not love Kitty any the less; he did not + even think she had wronged him; they, his partners and his sweetheart, + were cleverer than he; there must be some occult quality in this wealth + that he would understand when he possessed it, and perhaps it might even + make him ashamed of his generosity; not in the way they had said, but in + his tempting them so audaciously to assume a wrong position. It behoved + him to take possession of it at once, and to take also upon himself alone + the knowledge, the trials, and responsibilities it would incur. His cheeks + flushed again as he thought he had tried to tempt an innocent girl with + it, and he was keenly hurt that he had not seen in Kitty's eyes the + tenderness that had softened his partners' refusal. He resolved to wait no + longer, but sell his dreadful stock at once. He walked directly to the + bank. + </p> + <p> + The manager, a shrewd but kindly man, to whom Barker was known already, + received him graciously in recognition of his well-known simple honesty, + and respectfully as a representative of the equally well-known poor but + “superior” partnership of the Gulch. He listened with marked attention to + Barker's hesitating but brief story, only remarking at its close: + </p> + <p> + “You mean, of course, the 'SECOND Extension' when you say 'First'?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Barker; “I mean the 'First'—and it said First in the + Boomville paper.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!—I saw it—it was a printer's error. The stock of the + 'First' was called in two years ago. No! You mean the 'Second,' for, of + course, you've followed the quotations, and are likely to know what stock + you're holding shares of. When you go back, take a look at them, and + you'll see I am right.” + </p> + <p> + “But I brought them with me,” said Barker, with a slight flushing as he + felt in his pocket, “and I am quite sure they are the 'First'.” He brought + them out and laid them on the desk before the manager. + </p> + <p> + The words “First Extension” were plainly visible. The manager glanced + curiously at Barker, and his brow darkened. + </p> + <p> + “Did anybody put this up on you?” he said sternly. “Did your partners send + you here with this stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” said Barker eagerly. “No one! It's all MY mistake. I see it now. + I trusted to the newspaper.” + </p> + <p> + “And you mean to say you never examined the stock or the quotations, nor + followed it in any way, since you had it?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said Barker. “Never thought about IT AT ALL till I saw the + newspaper. So it's not worth anything?” And, to the infinite surprise of + the manager, there was a slight smile on his boyish face. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it is not worth the paper it's written on,” said the manager + gently. + </p> + <p> + The smile on Barker's face increased to a little laugh, in which his + wondering companion could not help joining. “Thank you,” said Barker + suddenly, and rushed away. + </p> + <p> + “He beats everything!” said the manager, gazing after him. “Damned if he + didn't seem even PLEASED.” + </p> + <p> + He WAS pleased. The burden of wealth had fallen from his shoulders; the + dreadful incubus that had weighed him down and parted his friends from him + was gone! And he had not got rid of it by spending it foolishly. It had + not ruined anybody yet; it had not altered anybody in HIS eyes. It was + gone; and he was a free and happy man once more. He would go directly back + to his partners; they would laugh at him, of course, but they could not + look at him now with the same sad, commiserating eyes. Perhaps even Kitty—but + here a sudden chill struck him. He had forgotten the bill of sale! He had + forgotten the dreadful promissory note given to her father in the rash + presumption of his wealth! How could it ever be paid? And more than that, + it had been given in a fraud. He had no money when he gave it, and no + prospect of any but what he was to get from those worthless shares. Would + anybody believe him that it was only a stupid blunder of his own? Yes, his + partners might believe him; but, horrible thought, he had already + implicated THEM in his fraud! Even now, while he was standing there + hesitatingly in the road, they were entering upon the new claim he had NOT + PAID FOR—COULD NOT PAY FOR—and in the guise of a benefactor he + was dishonoring them. Yet it was Carter he must meet first; he must + confess all to him. He must go back to the hotel—that hotel where he + had indignantly left her, and tell the father he was a fraud. It was + terrible to think of; perhaps it was part of that money curse that he + could not get rid of, and was now realizing; but it MUST be done. He was + simple, but his very simplicity had that unhesitating directness of + conclusion which is the main factor of what men call “pluck.” + </p> + <p> + He turned back to the hotel and entered the office. But Mr. Carter had not + yet returned. What was to be done? He could not wait there; there was no + time to be lost; there was only one other person who knew his + expectations, and to whom he could confide his failure—it was Kitty. + It was to taste the dregs of his humiliation, but it must be done. He ran + up the staircase and knocked timidly at the sitting-room door. There was a + momentary pause, and a weak voice said “Come in.” Barker opened the door; + saw the vision of a handkerchief thrown away, of a pair of tearful eyes + that suddenly changed to stony indifference, and a graceful but stiffening + figure. But he was past all insult now. + </p> + <p> + “I would not intrude,” he said simply, “but I came only to see your + father. I have made an awful blunder—more than a blunder, I think—a + FRAUD. Believing that I was rich, I purchased your father's claim for my + partners, and gave him my promissory note. I came here to give him back + his claim—for that note can NEVER be paid! I have just been to the + bank; I find I have made a stupid mistake in the name of the shares upon + which I based my belief in my wealth. The ones I own are worthless—am + as poor as ever—I am even poorer, for I owe your father money I can + never pay!” + </p> + <p> + To his amazement he saw a look of pain and scorn come into her troubled + eyes which he had never seen before. “This is a feeble trick,” she said + bitterly; “it is unlike you—it is unworthy of you!” + </p> + <p> + “Good God! You must believe me. Listen! it was all a mistake—a + printer's error. I read in the paper that the stock for the First + Extension mine had gone up, when it should have been the Second. I had + some old stock of the First, which I had kept for years, and only thought + of when I read the announcement in the paper this morning. I swear to you—” + </p> + <p> + But it was unnecessary. There was no doubting the truth of that voice—that + manner. The scorn fled from Miss Kitty's eyes to give place to a stare, + and then suddenly changed to two bubbling blue wells of laughter. She went + to the window and laughed. She sat down to the piano and laughed. She + caught up the handkerchief, and hiding half her rosy face in it, laughed. + She finally collapsed into an easy chair, and, burying her brown head in + its cushions, laughed long and confidentially until she brought up + suddenly against a sob. And then was still. + </p> + <p> + Barker was dreadfully alarmed. He had heard of hysterics before. He felt + he ought to do something. He moved toward her timidly, and gently drew + away her handkerchief. Alas! the blue wells were running over now. He took + her cold hands in his; he knelt beside her and passed his arm around her + waist. He drew her head upon his shoulder. He was not sure that any of + these things were effective until she suddenly lifted her eyes to his with + the last ray of mirth in them vanishing in a big teardrop, put her arms + round his neck, and sobbed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, George! You blessed innocent!” + </p> + <p> + An eloquent silence was broken by a remorseful start from Barker. + </p> + <p> + “But I must go and warn my poor partners, dearest; there yet may be time; + perhaps they have not yet taken possession of your father's claim.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, George dear,” said the young girl, with sparkling eyes; “and tell + them to do so AT ONCE!” + </p> + <p> + “What?” gasped Barker. + </p> + <p> + “At once—do you hear?—or it may be too late! Go quick.” + </p> + <p> + “But your father—Oh, I see, dearest, you will tell him all yourself, + and spare me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do nothing so foolish, Georgey. Nor shall you! Don't you see the + note isn't due for a month? Stop! Have you told anybody but Paw and me?” + </p> + <p> + “Only the bank manager.” + </p> + <p> + She ran out of the room and returned in a minute tying the most enchanting + of hats by a ribbon under her oval chin. “I'll run over and fix him,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “Fix him?” returned Barker, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll say your wicked partners have been playing a practical joke on + you, and he mustn't give you away. He'll do anything for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But my partners didn't! On the contrary—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't tell me, George,” said Miss Kitty severely. “THEY ought never to + have let you come here with that stuff. But come! You must go at once. You + must not meet Paw; you'll blurt out everything to him; I know you! I'll + tell him you could not stay to luncheon. Quick, now; go. What? Well—there!” + </p> + <p> + Whatever it represented, the exclamation was apparently so protracted that + Miss Kitty was obliged to push her lover to the front landing before she + could disappear by the back stairs. But once in the street, Barker no + longer lingered. It was a good three miles back to the Gulch; he might + still reach it by the time his partners were taking their noonday rest, + and he resolved that although the messenger had preceded him, they would + not enter upon the new claim until the afternoon. For Barker, in spite of + his mistress's injunction, had no idea of taking what he couldn't pay for; + he would keep the claim intact until something could be settled. For the + rest, he walked on air! Kitty loved him! The accursed wealth no longer + stood between them. They were both poor now—everything was possible. + </p> + <p> + The sun was beginning to send dwarf shadows toward the east when he + reached the Gulch. Here a new trepidation seized him. How would his + partners receive the news of his utter failure? HE was happy, for he had + gained Kitty through it. But they? For a moment it seemed to him that he + had purchased his happiness through their loss. He stopped, took off his + hat, and ran his fingers remorsefully through his damp curls. + </p> + <p> + Another thing troubled him. He had reached the crest of the Gulch, where + their old working ground was spread before him like a map. They were not + there; neither were they lying under the four pines on the ridge where + they were wont to rest at midday. He turned with some alarm to the new + claim adjoining theirs, but there was no sign of them there either. A + sudden fear that they had, after parting from him, given up the claim in a + fit of disgust and depression, and departed, now overcame him. He clapped + his hand on his head and ran in the direction of the cabin. + </p> + <p> + He had nearly reached it when the rough challenge of “Who's there?” from + the bushes halted him, and Demorest suddenly swung into the trail. But the + singular look of sternness and impatience which he was wearing vanished as + he saw Barker, and with a loud shout of “All right, it's only Barker! + Hooray!” he ran toward him. In an instant he was joined by Stacy from the + cabin, and the two men, catching hold of their returning partner, waltzed + him joyfully and breathlessly into the cabin. But the quick-eyed Demorest + suddenly let go his hold and stared at Barker's face. “Why, Barker, old + boy, what's up?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything's up,” gasped the breathless Barker. “It's all up about these + stocks. It's all a mistake; all an infernal lie of that newspaper. I never + had the right kind of shares. The ones I have are worthless rags”; and the + next instant he had blurted out his whole interview with the bank manager. + </p> + <p> + The two partners looked at each other, and then, to Barker's infinite + perplexity, the same extraordinary convulsion that had seized Miss Kitty + fell upon them. They laughed, holding on each other's shoulders; they + laughed, clinging to Barker's struggling figure; they went out and laughed + with their backs against a tree. They laughed separately and in different + corners. And then they came up to Barker with tears in their eyes, dropped + their heads on his shoulder, and murmured exhaustedly: + </p> + <p> + “You blessed ass!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Stacy suddenly, “how did you manage to buy the claim?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that's the most awful thing, boys. I've NEVER PAID FOR IT,” groaned + Barker. + </p> + <p> + “But Carter sent us the bill of sale,” persisted Demorest, “or we + shouldn't have taken it.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave my promissory note at thirty days,” said Barker desperately, “and + where's the money to come from now? But,” he added wildly, as the men + glanced at each other—“you said 'taken it.' Good heavens! you don't + mean to say that I'm TOO late—that you've—you've touched it?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon that's pretty much what we HAVE been doing,” drawled Demorest. + </p> + <p> + “It looks uncommonly like it,” drawled Stacy. + </p> + <p> + Barker glanced blankly from the one to the other. “Shall we pass our young + friend in to see the show?” said Demorest to Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if he'll be perfectly quiet and not breathe on the glasses,” + returned Stacy. + </p> + <p> + They each gravely took one of Barker's hands and led him to the corner of + the cabin. There, on an old flour barrel, stood a large tin prospecting + pan, in which the partners also occasionally used to knead their bread. A + dirty towel covered it. Demorest whisked it dexterously aside, and + disclosed three large fragments of decomposed gold and quartz. Barker + started back. + </p> + <p> + “Heft it!” said Demorest grimly. + </p> + <p> + Barker could scarcely lift the pan! + </p> + <p> + “Four thousand dollars' weight if a penny!” said Stacy, in short staccato + sentences. “In a pocket! Brought it out the second stroke of the pick! + We'd been awfully blue after you left. Awfully blue, too, when that bill + of sale came, for we thought you'd been wasting your money on US. Reckoned + we oughtn't to take it, but send it straight back to you. Messenger gone! + Then Demorest reckoned as it was done it couldn't be undone, and we ought + to make just one 'prospect' on the claim, and strike a single stroke for + you. And there it is. And there's more on the hillside.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't MINE! It isn't YOURS! It's Carter's. I never had the money + to pay for it—and I haven't got it now.” + </p> + <p> + “But you gave the note—and it is not due for thirty days.” + </p> + <p> + A recollection flashed upon Barker. “Yes,” he said with thoughtful + simplicity, “that's what Kitty said.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Kitty said so,” said both partners, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” stammered Barker, turning away with a heightened color, “and, as I + didn't stay there to luncheon, I think I'd better be getting it ready.” He + picked up the coffeepot and turned to the hearth as his two partners + stepped beyond the door. + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't it exactly like him?” said Demorest. + </p> + <p> + “Him all over,” said Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “And his worry over that note?” said Demorest. + </p> + <p> + “And 'what Kitty said,'” said Stacy. + </p> + <p> + “Look here! I reckon that wasn't ALL that Kitty said.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “What luck!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A YELLOW DOG + </h2> + <p> + I never knew why in the Western States of America a yellow dog should be + proverbially considered the acme of canine degradation and incompetency, + nor why the possession of one should seriously affect the social standing + of its possessor. But the fact being established, I think we accepted it + at Rattlers Ridge without question. The matter of ownership was more + difficult to settle; and although the dog I have in my mind at the present + writing attached himself impartially and equally to everyone in camp, no + one ventured to exclusively claim him; while, after the perpetration of + any canine atrocity, everybody repudiated him with indecent haste. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can swear he hasn't been near our shanty for weeks,” or the + retort, “He was last seen comin' out of YOUR cabin,” expressed the + eagerness with which Rattlers Ridge washed its hands of any + responsibility. Yet he was by no means a common dog, nor even an + unhandsome dog; and it was a singular fact that his severest critics vied + with each other in narrating instances of his sagacity, insight, and + agility which they themselves had witnessed. + </p> + <p> + He had been seen crossing the “flume” that spanned Grizzly Canyon at a + height of nine hundred feet, on a plank six inches wide. He had tumbled + down the “shoot” to the South Fork, a thousand feet below, and was found + sitting on the riverbank “without a scratch, 'cept that he was lazily + givin' himself with his off hind paw.” He had been forgotten in a + snowdrift on a Sierran shelf, and had come home in the early spring with + the conceited complacency of an Alpine traveler and a plumpness alleged to + have been the result of an exclusive diet of buried mail bags and their + contents. He was generally believed to read the advance election posters, + and disappear a day or two before the candidates and the brass band—which + he hated—came to the Ridge. He was suspected of having overlooked + Colonel Johnson's hand at poker, and of having conveyed to the Colonel's + adversary, by a succession of barks, the danger of betting against four + kings. + </p> + <p> + While these statements were supplied by wholly unsupported witnesses, it + was a very human weakness of Rattlers Ridge that the responsibility of + corroboration was passed to the dog himself, and HE was looked upon as a + consummate liar. + </p> + <p> + “Snoopin' round yere, and CALLIN' yourself a poker sharp, are ye! Scoot, + you yaller pizin!” was a common adjuration whenever the unfortunate animal + intruded upon a card party. “Ef thar was a spark, an ATOM of truth in THAT + DOG, I'd believe my own eyes that I saw him sittin' up and trying to + magnetize a jay bird off a tree. But wot are ye goin' to do with a yaller + equivocator like that?” + </p> + <p> + I have said that he was yellow—or, to use the ordinary expression, + “yaller.” Indeed, I am inclined to believe that much of the ignominy + attached to the epithet lay in this favorite pronunciation. Men who + habitually spoke of a “YELLOW bird,” a “YELLOW-hammer,” a “YELLOW leaf,” + always alluded to him as a “YALLER dog.” + </p> + <p> + He certainly WAS yellow. After a bath—usually compulsory—he + presented a decided gamboge streak down his back, from the top of his + forehead to the stump of his tail, fading in his sides and flank to a + delicate straw color. His breast, legs, and feet—when not reddened + by “slumgullion,” in which he was fond of wading—were white. A few + attempts at ornamental decoration from the India-ink pot of the + storekeeper failed, partly through the yellow dog's excessive agility, + which would never give the paint time to dry on him, and partly through + his success in transferring his markings to the trousers and blankets of + the camp. + </p> + <p> + The size and shape of his tail—which had been cut off before his + introduction to Rattlers Ridge—were favorite sources of speculation + to the miners, as determining both his breed and his moral responsibility + in coming into camp in that defective condition. There was a general + opinion that he couldn't have looked worse with a tail, and its removal + was therefore a gratuitous effrontery. + </p> + <p> + His best feature was his eyes, which were a lustrous Vandyke brown, and + sparkling with intelligence; but here again he suffered from evolution + through environment, and their original trustful openness was marred by + the experience of watching for flying stones, sods, and passing kicks from + the rear, so that the pupils were continually reverting to the outer angle + of the eyelid. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, none of these characteristics decided the vexed question of + his BREED. His speed and scent pointed to a “hound,” and it is related + that on one occasion he was laid on the trail of a wildcat with such + success that he followed it apparently out of the State, returning at the + end of two weeks footsore, but blandly contented. + </p> + <p> + Attaching himself to a prospecting party, he was sent under the same + belief, “into the brush” to drive off a bear, who was supposed to be + haunting the campfire. He returned in a few minutes WITH the bear, DRIVING + IT INTO the unarmed circle and scattering the whole party. After this the + theory of his being a hunting dog was abandoned. Yet it was said—on + the usual uncorroborated evidence—that he had “put up” a quail; and + his qualities as a retriever were for a long time accepted, until, during + a shooting expedition for wild ducks, it was discovered that the one he + had brought back had never been shot, and the party were obliged to + compound damages with an adjacent settler. + </p> + <p> + His fondness for paddling in the ditches and “slumgullion” at one time + suggested a water spaniel. He could swim, and would occasionally bring out + of the river sticks and pieces of bark that had been thrown in; but as HE + always had to be thrown in with them, and was a good-sized dog, his + aquatic reputation faded also. He remained simply “a yaller dog.” What + more could be said? His actual name was “Bones”—given to him, no + doubt, through the provincial custom of confounding the occupation of the + individual with his quality, for which it was pointed out precedent could + be found in some old English family names. + </p> + <p> + But if Bones generally exhibited no preference for any particular + individual in camp, he always made an exception in favor of drunkards. + Even an ordinary roistering bacchanalian party brought him out from under + a tree or a shed in the keenest satisfaction. He would accompany them + through the long straggling street of the settlement, barking his delight + at every step or misstep of the revelers, and exhibiting none of that + mistrust of eye which marked his attendance upon the sane and the + respectable. He accepted even their uncouth play without a snarl or a + yelp, hypocritically pretending even to like it; and I conscientiously + believe would have allowed a tin can to be attached to his tail if the + hand that tied it on were only unsteady, and the voice that bade him “lie + still” were husky with liquor. He would “see” the party cheerfully into a + saloon, wait outside the door—his tongue fairly lolling from his + mouth in enjoyment—until they reappeared, permit them even to tumble + over him with pleasure, and then gambol away before them, heedless of + awkwardly projected stones and epithets. He would afterward accompany them + separately home, or lie with them at crossroads until they were assisted + to their cabins. Then he would trot rakishly to his own haunt by the + saloon stove, with the slightly conscious air of having been a bad dog, + yet of having had a good time. + </p> + <p> + We never could satisfy ourselves whether his enjoyment arose from some + merely selfish conviction that he was more SECURE with the physically and + mentally incompetent, from some active sympathy with active wickedness, or + from a grim sense of his own mental superiority at such moments. But the + general belief leant toward his kindred sympathy as a “yaller dog” with + all that was disreputable. And this was supported by another very singular + canine manifestation—the “sincere flattery” of simulation or + imitation. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Billy” Riley for a short time enjoyed the position of being the + camp drunkard, and at once became an object of Bones' greatest solicitude. + He not only accompanied him everywhere, curled at his feet or head + according to Uncle Billy's attitude at the moment, but, it was noticed, + began presently to undergo a singular alteration in his own habits and + appearance. From being an active, tireless scout and forager, a bold and + unovertakable marauder, he became lazy and apathetic; allowed gophers to + burrow under him without endeavoring to undermine the settlement in his + frantic endeavors to dig them out, permitted squirrels to flash their + tails at him a hundred yards away, forgot his usual caches, and left his + favorite bones unburied and bleaching in the sun. His eyes grew dull, his + coat lusterless, in proportion as his companion became blear-eyed and + ragged; in running, his usual arrowlike directness began to deviate, and + it was not unusual to meet the pair together, zigzagging up the hill. + Indeed, Uncle Billy's condition could be predetermined by Bones' + appearance at times when his temporary master was invisible. “The old man + must have an awful jag on today,” was casually remarked when an extra + fluffiness and imbecility was noticeable in the passing Bones. At first it + was believed that he drank also, but when careful investigation proved + this hypothesis untenable, he was freely called a “derned time-servin', + yaller hypocrite.” Not a few advanced the opinion that if Bones did not + actually lead Uncle Billy astray, he at least “slavered him over and + coddled him until the old man got conceited in his wickedness.” This + undoubtedly led to a compulsory divorce between them, and Uncle Billy was + happily dispatched to a neighboring town and a doctor. + </p> + <p> + Bones seemed to miss him greatly, ran away for two days, and was supposed + to have visited him, to have been shocked at his convalescence, and to + have been “cut” by Uncle Billy in his reformed character; and he returned + to his old active life again, and buried his past with his forgotten + bones. It was said that he was afterward detected in trying to lead an + intoxicated tramp into camp after the methods employed by a blind man's + dog, but was discovered in time by the—of course—uncorroborated + narrator. + </p> + <p> + I should be tempted to leave him thus in his original and picturesque sin, + but the same veracity which compelled me to transcribe his faults and + iniquities obliges me to describe his ultimate and somewhat monotonous + reformation, which came from no fault of his own. + </p> + <p> + It was a joyous day at Rattlers Ridge that was equally the advent of his + change of heart and the first stagecoach that had been induced to diverge + from the highroad and stop regularly at our settlement. Flags were flying + from the post office and Polka saloon, and Bones was flying before the + brass band that he detested, when the sweetest girl in the county—Pinkey + Preston—daughter of the county judge and hopelessly beloved by all + Rattlers Ridge, stepped from the coach which she had glorified by + occupying as an invited guest. + </p> + <p> + “What makes him run away?” she asked quickly, opening her lovely eyes in a + possibly innocent wonder that anything could be found to run away from + her. + </p> + <p> + “He don't like the brass band,” we explained eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “How funny,” murmured the girl; “is it as out of tune as all that?” + </p> + <p> + This irresistible witticism alone would have been enough to satisfy us—we + did nothing but repeat it to each other all the next day—but we were + positively transported when we saw her suddenly gather her dainty skirts + in one hand and trip off through the red dust toward Bones, who, with his + eyes over his yellow shoulder, had halted in the road, and half-turned in + mingled disgust and rage at the spectacle of the descending trombone. We + held our breath as she approached him. Would Bones evade her as he did us + at such moments, or would he save our reputation, and consent, for the + moment, to accept her as a new kind of inebriate? She came nearer; he saw + her; he began to slowly quiver with excitement—his stump of a tail + vibrating with such rapidity that the loss of the missing portion was + scarcely noticeable. Suddenly she stopped before him, took his yellow head + between her little hands, lifted it, and looked down in his handsome brown + eyes with her two lovely blue ones. What passed between them in that + magnetic glance no one ever knew. She returned with him; said to him + casually: “We're not afraid of brass bands, are we?” to which he + apparently acquiesced, at least stifling his disgust of them while he was + near her—which was nearly all the time. + </p> + <p> + During the speechmaking her gloved hand and his yellow head were always + near together, and at the crowning ceremony—her public checking of + Yuba Bill's “waybill” on behalf of the township, with a gold pencil + presented to her by the Stage Company—Bones' joy, far from knowing + no bounds, seemed to know nothing but them, and he witnessed it apparently + in the air. No one dared to interfere. For the first time a local pride in + Bones sprang up in our hearts—and we lied to each other in his + praises openly and shamelessly. + </p> + <p> + Then the time came for parting. We were standing by the door of the coach, + hats in hand, as Miss Pinkey was about to step into it; Bones was waiting + by her side, confidently looking into the interior, and apparently + selecting his own seat on the lap of Judge Preston in the corner, when + Miss Pinkey held up the sweetest of admonitory fingers. Then, taking his + head between her two hands, she again looked into his brimming eyes, and + said, simply, “GOOD dog,” with the gentlest of emphasis on the adjective, + and popped into the coach. + </p> + <p> + The six bay horses started as one, the gorgeous green and gold vehicle + bounded forward, the red dust rose behind, and the yellow dog danced in + and out of it to the very outskirts of the settlement. And then he soberly + returned. + </p> + <p> + A day or two later he was missed—but the fact was afterward known + that he was at Spring Valley, the county town where Miss Preston lived, + and he was forgiven. A week afterward he was missed again, but this time + for a longer period, and then a pathetic letter arrived from Sacramento + for the storekeeper's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind,” wrote Miss Pinkey Preston, “asking some of your boys to + come over here to Sacramento and bring back Bones? I don't mind having the + dear dog walk out with me at Spring Valley, where everyone knows me; but + here he DOES make one so noticeable, on account of HIS COLOR. I've got + scarcely a frock that he agrees with. He don't go with my pink muslin, and + that lovely buff tint he makes three shades lighter. You know yellow is SO + trying.” + </p> + <p> + A consultation was quickly held by the whole settlement, and a deputation + sent to Sacramento to relieve the unfortunate girl. We were all quite + indignant with Bones—but, oddly enough, I think it was greatly + tempered with our new pride in him. While he was with us alone, his + peculiarities had been scarcely appreciated, but the recurrent phrase + “that yellow dog that they keep at the Rattlers” gave us a mysterious + importance along the countryside, as if we had secured a “mascot” in some + zoological curiosity. + </p> + <p> + This was further indicated by a singular occurrence. A new church had been + built at the crossroads, and an eminent divine had come from San Francisco + to preach the opening sermon. After a careful examination of the camp's + wardrobe, and some felicitous exchange of apparel, a few of us were + deputed to represent “Rattlers” at the Sunday service. In our white ducks, + straw hats, and flannel blouses, we were sufficiently picturesque and + distinctive as “honest miners” to be shown off in one of the front pews. + </p> + <p> + Seated near the prettiest girls, who offered us their hymn books—in + the cleanly odor of fresh pine shavings, and ironed muslin, and blown over + by the spices of our own woods through the open windows, a deep sense of + the abiding peace of Christian communion settled upon us. At this supreme + moment someone murmured in an awe-stricken whisper: + </p> + <p> + “WILL you look at Bones?” + </p> + <p> + We looked. Bones had entered the church and gone up in the gallery through + a pardonable ignorance and modesty; but, perceiving his mistake, was now + calmly walking along the gallery rail before the astounded worshipers. + Reaching the end, he paused for a moment, and carelessly looked down. It + was about fifteen feet to the floor below—the simplest jump in the + world for the mountain-bred Bones. Daintily, gingerly, lazily, and yet + with a conceited airiness of manner, as if, humanly speaking, he had one + leg in his pocket and were doing it on three, he cleared the distance, + dropping just in front of the chancel, without a sound, turned himself + around three times, and then lay comfortably down. + </p> + <p> + Three deacons were instantly in the aisle, coming up before the eminent + divine, who, we fancied, wore a restrained smile. We heard the hurried + whispers: “Belongs to them.” “Quite a local institution here, you know.” + “Don't like to offend sensibilities;” and the minister's prompt “By no + means,” as he went on with his service. + </p> + <p> + A short month ago we would have repudiated Bones; today we sat there in + slightly supercilious attitudes, as if to indicate that any affront + offered to Bones would be an insult to ourselves, and followed by our + instantaneous withdrawal in a body. + </p> + <p> + All went well, however, until the minister, lifting the large Bible from + the communion table and holding it in both hands before him, walked toward + a reading stand by the altar rails. Bones uttered a distinct growl. The + minister stopped. + </p> + <p> + We, and we alone, comprehended in a flash the whole situation. The Bible + was nearly the size and shape of one of those soft clods of sod which we + were in the playful habit of launching at Bones when he lay half-asleep in + the sun, in order to see him cleverly evade it. + </p> + <p> + We held our breath. What was to be done? But the opportunity belonged to + our leader, Jeff Briggs—a confoundedly good-looking fellow, with the + golden mustache of a northern viking and the curls of an Apollo. Secure in + his beauty and bland in his self-conceit, he rose from the pew, and + stepped before the chancel rails. + </p> + <p> + “I would wait a moment, if I were you, sir,” he said, respectfully, “and + you will see that he will go out quietly.” + </p> + <p> + “What is wrong?” whispered the minister in some concern. + </p> + <p> + “He thinks you are going to heave that book at him, sir, without giving + him a fair show, as we do.” + </p> + <p> + The minister looked perplexed, but remained motionless, with the book in + his hands. Bones arose, walked halfway down the aisle, and vanished like a + yellow flash! + </p> + <p> + With this justification of his reputation, Bones disappeared for a week. + At the end of that time we received a polite note from Judge Preston, + saying that the dog had become quite domiciled in their house, and begged + that the camp, without yielding up their valuable PROPERTY in him, would + allow him to remain at Spring Valley for an indefinite time; that both the + judge and his daughter—with whom Bones was already an old friend—would + be glad if the members of the camp would visit their old favorite whenever + they desired, to assure themselves that he was well cared for. + </p> + <p> + I am afraid that the bait thus ingenuously thrown out had a good deal to + do with our ultimate yielding. However, the reports of those who visited + Bones were wonderful and marvelous. He was residing there in state, lying + on rugs in the drawing-room, coiled up under the judicial desk in the + judge's study, sleeping regularly on the mat outside Miss Pinkey's bedroom + door, or lazily snapping at flies on the judge's lawn. + </p> + <p> + “He's as yaller as ever,” said one of our informants, “but it don't + somehow seem to be the same back that we used to break clods over in the + old time, just to see him scoot out of the dust.” + </p> + <p> + And now I must record a fact which I am aware all lovers of dogs will + indignantly deny, and which will be furiously bayed at by every faithful + hound since the days of Ulysses. Bones not only FORGOT, but absolutely CUT + US! Those who called upon the judge in “store clothes” he would perhaps + casually notice, but he would sniff at them as if detecting and resenting + them under their superficial exterior. The rest he simply paid no + attention to. The more familiar term of “Bonesy”—formerly applied to + him, as in our rare moments of endearment—produced no response. This + pained, I think, some of the more youthful of us; but, through some + strange human weakness, it also increased the camp's respect for him. + Nevertheless, we spoke of him familiarly to strangers at the very moment + he ignored us. I am afraid that we also took some pains to point out that + he was getting fat and unwieldy, and losing his elasticity, implying + covertly that his choice was a mistake and his life a failure. + </p> + <p> + A year after, he died, in the odor of sanctity and respectability, being + found one morning coiled up and stiff on the mat outside Miss Pinkey's + door. When the news was conveyed to us, we asked permission, the camp + being in a prosperous condition, to erect a stone over his grave. But when + it came to the inscription we could only think of the two words murmured + to him by Miss Pinkey, which we always believe effected his conversion: + </p> + <p> + “GOOD Dog!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A MOTHER OF FIVE + </h2> + <p> + She was a mother—and a rather exemplary one—of five children, + although her own age was barely nine. Two of these children were twins, + and she generally alluded to them as “Mr. Amplach's children,” referring + to an exceedingly respectable gentleman in the next settlement who, I have + reason to believe, had never set eyes on her or them. The twins were quite + naturally alike—having been in a previous state of existence two + ninepins—and were still somewhat vague and inchoate below their low + shoulders in their long clothes, but were also firm and globular about the + head, and there were not wanting those who professed to see in this an + unmistakable resemblance to their reputed father. The other children were + dolls of different ages, sex, and condition, but the twins may be said to + have been distinctly her own conception. Yet such was her admirable and + impartial maternity that she never made any difference between them. “The + Amplach's children” was a description rather than a distinction. + </p> + <p> + She was herself the motherless child of Robert Foulkes, a hardworking but + somewhat improvident teamster on the Express Route between Big Bend and + Reno. His daily avocation, when she was not actually with him in the + wagon, led to an occasional dispersion of herself and her progeny along + the road and at wayside stations between those places. But the family was + generally collected together by rough but kindly hands already familiar + with the handling of her children. I have a very vivid recollection of Jim + Carter trampling into a saloon, after a five-mile walk through a + snowdrift, with an Amplach twin in his pocket. “Suthin' ought to be done,” + he growled, “to make Meary a little more careful o' them Amplach children; + I picked up one outer the snow a mile beyond Big Bend.” “God bless my + soul!” said a casual passenger, looking up hastily; “I didn't know Mr. + Amplach was married.” Jim winked diabolically at us over his glass. “No + more did I,” he responded gloomily, “but you can't tell anything about the + ways o' them respectable, psalm-singing jay birds.” Having thus disposed + of Amplach's character, later on, when he was alone with Mary, or “Meary,” + as she chose to pronounce it, the rascal worked upon her feelings with an + account of the infant Amplach's sufferings in the snowdrift and its + agonized whisperings for “Meary! Meary!” until real tears stood in Mary's + blue eyes. “Let this be a lesson to you,” he concluded, drawing the + ninepin dexterously from his pocket, “for it took nigh a quart of the best + forty-rod whisky to bring that child to.” Not only did Mary firmly believe + him, but for weeks afterwards “Julian Amplach”—this unhappy twin—was + kept in a somnolent attitude in the cart, and was believed to have + contracted dissipated habits from the effects of his heroic treatment. + </p> + <p> + Her numerous family was achieved in only two years, and succeeded her + first child, which was brought from Sacramento at considerable expense by + a Mr. William Dodd, also a teamster, on her seventh birthday. This, by one + of those rare inventions known only to a child's vocabulary, she at once + called “Misery”—probably a combination of “Missy,” as she herself + was formerly termed by strangers, and “Missouri,” her native State. It was + an excessively large doll at first—Mr. Dodd wishing to get the worth + of his money—but time, and perhaps an excess of maternal care, + remedied the defect, and it lost flesh and certain unemployed parts of its + limbs very rapidly. It was further reduced in bulk by falling under the + wagon and having the whole train pass over it, but singularly enough its + greatest attenuation was in the head and shoulders—the complexion + peeling off as a solid layer, followed by the disappearance of distinct + strata of its extraordinary composition. This continued until the head and + shoulders were much too small for even its reduced frame, and all the + devices of childish millinery—a shawl secured with tacks and well + hammered in, and a hat which tilted backward and forward and never + appeared at the same angle—failed to restore symmetry. Until one + dreadful morning, after an imprudent bath, the whole upper structure + disappeared, leaving two hideous iron prongs standing erect from the + spinal column. Even an imaginative child like Mary could not accept this + sort of thing as a head. Later in the day Jack Roper, the blacksmith at + the “Crossing,” was concerned at the plaintive appearance before his forge + of a little girl clad in a bright-blue pinafore of the same color as her + eyes, carrying her monstrous offspring in her arms. Jack recognized her + and instantly divined the situation. “You haven't,” he suggested kindly, + “got another head at home—suthin' left over,” Mary shook her head + sadly; even her prolific maternity was not equal to the creation of + children in detail. “Nor anythin' like a head?” he persisted + sympathetically. Mary's loving eyes filled with tears. “No, nuffen!” “You + couldn't,” he continued thoughtfully, “use her the other side up?—we + might get a fine pair o' legs outer them irons,” he added, touching the + two prongs with artistic suggestion. “Now look here”—he was about to + tilt the doll over when a small cry of feminine distress and a swift + movement of a matronly little arm arrested the evident indiscretion. “I + see,” he said gravely. “Well, you come here tomorrow, and we'll fix up + suthin' to work her.” Jack was thoughtful the rest of the day, more than + usually impatient with certain stubborn mules to be shod, and even knocked + off work an hour earlier to walk to Big Bend and a rival shop. But the + next morning when the trustful and anxious mother appeared at the forge + she uttered a scream of delight. Jack had neatly joined a hollow iron + globe, taken from the newel post of some old iron staircase railing, to + the two prongs, and covered it with a coat of red fireproof paint. It was + true that its complexion was rather high, that it was inclined to be + top-heavy, and that in the long run the other dolls suffered considerably + by enforced association with this unyielding and implacable head and + shoulders, but this did not diminish Mary's joy over her restored + first-born. Even its utter absence of features was no defect in a family + where features were as evanescent as in hers, and the most ordinary + student of evolution could see that the “Amplach” ninepins were in + legitimate succession to the globular-headed “Misery.” For a time I think + that Mary even preferred her to the others. Howbeit it was a pretty sight + to see her on a summer afternoon sitting upon a wayside stump, her other + children dutifully ranged around her, and the hard, unfeeling head of + Misery pressed deep down into her loving little heart as she swayed from + side to side, crooning her plaintive lullaby. Small wonder that the bees + took up the song and droned a slumberous accompaniment, or that high above + her head the enormous pines, stirred through their depths by the soft + Sierran air—or Heaven knows what—let slip flickering lights + and shadows to play over that cast-iron face, until the child, looking + down upon it with the quick, transforming power of love, thought that it + smiled. + </p> + <p> + The two remaining members of the family were less distinctive. “Gloriana”—pronounced + as two words: “Glory Anna”—being the work of her father, who also + named it, was simply a cylindrical roll of canvas wagon-covering, girt so + as to define a neck and waist, with a rudely inked face—altogether a + weak, pitiable, manlike invention; and “Johnny Dear,” alleged to be the + representative of John Doremus, a young storekeeper who occasionally + supplied Mary with gratuitous sweets. Mary never admitted this, and as we + were all gentlemen along that road, we were blind to the suggestion. + “Johnny Dear” was originally a small plaster phrenological cast of a head + and bust, begged from some shop window in the county town, with a body + clearly constructed by Mary herself. It was an ominous fact that it was + always dressed as a BOY, and was distinctly the most HUMAN-looking of all + her progeny. Indeed, in spite of the faculties that were legibly printed + all over its smooth, white, hairless head, it was appallingly lifelike. + Left sometimes by Mary astride of the branch of a wayside tree, horsemen + had been known to dismount hurriedly and examine it, returning with a + mystified smile, and it was on record that Yuba Bill had once pulled up + the Pioneer Coach at the request of curious and imploring passengers, and + then grimly installed “Johnny Dear” beside him on the box seat, publicly + delivering him to Mary at Big Bend, to her wide-eyed confusion and the + first blush we had ever seen on her round, chubby, sunburnt cheeks. It may + seem strange that with her great popularity and her well-known maternal + instincts, she had not been kept fully supplied with proper and more + conventional dolls; but it was soon recognized that she did not care for + them—left their waxen faces, rolling eyes, and abundant hair in + ditches, or stripped them to help clothe the more extravagant creatures of + her fancy. So it came that “Johnny Dear's” strictly classical profile + looked out from under a girl's fashionable straw sailor hat, to the utter + obliteration of his prominent intellectual faculties; the Amplach twins + wore bonnets on their ninepins heads, and even an attempt was made to fit + a flaxen scalp on the iron-headed Misery. But her dolls were always a + creation of her own—her affection for them increasing with the + demand upon her imagination. This may seem somewhat inconsistent with her + habit of occasionally abandoning them in the woods or in the ditches. But + she had an unbounded confidence in the kindly maternity of Nature, and + trusted her children to the breast of the Great Mother as freely as she + did herself in her own motherlessness. And this confidence was rarely + betrayed. Rats, mice, snails, wildcats, panther, and bear never touched + her lost waifs. Even the elements were kindly; an Amplach twin buried + under a snowdrift in high altitudes reappeared smilingly in the spring in + all its wooden and painted integrity. We were all Pantheists then—and + believed this implicitly. It was only when exposed to the milder forces of + civilization that Mary had anything to fear. Yet even then, when Patsy + O'Connor's domestic goat had once tried to “sample” the lost Misery, he + had retreated with the loss of three front teeth, and Thompson's mule came + out of an encounter with that iron-headed prodigy with a sprained hind leg + and a cut and swollen pastern. + </p> + <p> + But these were the simple Arcadian days of the road between Big Bend and + Reno, and progress and prosperity, alas! brought changes in their wake. It + was already whispered that Mary ought to be going to school, and Mr. + Amplach—still happily oblivious of the liberties taken with his name—as + trustee of the public school at Duckville, had intimated that Mary's + bohemian wanderings were a scandal to the county. She was growing up in + ignorance, a dreadful ignorance of everything but the chivalry, the deep + tenderness, the delicacy and unselfishness of the rude men around her, and + obliviousness of faith in anything but the immeasurable bounty of Nature + toward her and her children. Of course there was a fierce discussion + between “the boys” of the road and the few married families of the + settlement on this point, but, of course, progress and “snivelization”—as + the boys chose to call it—triumphed. The projection of a railroad + settled it; Robert Foulkes, promoted to a foremanship of a division of the + line, was made to understand that his daughter must be educated. But the + terrible question of Mary's family remained. No school would open its + doors to that heterogeneous collection, and Mary's little heart would have + broken over the rude dispersal or heroic burning of her children. The + ingenuity of Jack Roper suggested a compromise. She was allowed to select + one to take to school with her; the others were ADOPTED by certain of her + friends, and she was to be permitted to visit them every Saturday + afternoon. The selection was a cruel trial, so cruel that, knowing her + undoubted preference for her firstborn, Misery, we would not have + interfered for worlds, but in her unexpected choice of “Johnny Dear” the + most unworldly of us knew that it was the first glimmering of feminine + tact—her first submission to the world of propriety that she was now + entering. “Johnny Dear” was undoubtedly the most presentable; even more, + there was an educational suggestion in its prominent, mapped-out + phrenological organs. The adopted fathers were loyal to their trust. + Indeed, for years afterward the blacksmith kept the iron-headed Misery on + a rude shelf, like a shrine, near his bunk; nobody but himself and Mary + ever knew the secret, stolen, and thrilling interviews that took place + during the first days of their separation. Certain facts, however, + transpired concerning Mary's equal faithfulness to another of her + children. It is said that one Saturday afternoon, when the road manager of + the new line was seated in his office at Reno in private business + discussion with two directors, a gentle tap was heard at the door. It was + opened to an eager little face, a pair of blue eyes, and a blue pinafore. + To the astonishment of the directors, a change came over the face of the + manager. Taking the child gently by the hand, he walked to his desk, on + which the papers of the new line were scattered, and drew open a drawer + from which he took a large ninepin extraordinarily dressed as a doll. The + astonishment of the two gentlemen was increased at the following quaint + colloquy between the manager and the child. + </p> + <p> + “She's doing remarkably well in spite of the trying weather, but I have + had to keep her very quiet,” said the manager, regarding the ninepin + critically. + </p> + <p> + “Ess,” said Mary quickly, “It's just the same with Johnny Dear; his cough + is f'ightful at nights. But Misery's all right. I've just been to see + her.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a good deal of scarlet fever around,” continued the manager with + quiet concern, “and we can't be too careful. But I shall take her for a + little run down the line tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of Mary sparkled and overflowed like blue water. Then there was a + kiss, a little laugh, a shy glance at the two curious strangers, the blue + pinafore fluttered away, and the colloquy ended. She was equally attentive + in her care of the others, but the rag baby “Gloriana,” who had found a + home in Jim Carter's cabin at the Ridge, living too far for daily visits, + was brought down regularly on Saturday afternoon to Mary's house by Jim, + tucked in asleep in his saddle bags or riding gallantly before him on the + horn of his saddle. On Sunday there was a dress parade of all the dolls, + which kept Mary in heart for the next week's desolation. + </p> + <p> + But there came one Saturday and Sunday when Mary did not appear, and it + was known along the road that she had been called to San Francisco to meet + an aunt who had just arrived from “the States.” It was a vacant Sunday to + “the boys,” a very hollow, unsanctified Sunday, somehow, without that + little figure. But the next, Sunday, and the next, were still worse, and + then it was known that the dreadful aunt was making much of Mary, and was + sending her to a grand school—a convent at Santa Clara—where + it was rumored girls were turned out so accomplished that their own + parents did not know them. But WE knew that was impossible to our Mary; + and a letter which came from her at the end of the month, and before the + convent had closed upon the blue pinafore, satisfied us, and was balm to + our anxious hearts. It was characteristic of Mary; it was addressed to + nobody in particular, and would—but for the prudence of the aunt—have + been entrusted to the post office open and undirected. It was a single + sheet, handed to us without a word by her father; but as we passed it from + hand to hand, we understood it as if we had heard our lost playfellow's + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ther's more houses in 'Frisco than you kin shake a stick at and wimmens + till you kant rest, but mules and jakasses ain't got no sho, nor + blacksmiffs shops, wich is not to be seen no wear. Rapits and Skwirls also + bares and panfers is on-noun and unforgotten on account of the streets and + Sunday skoles. Jim Roper you orter be very good to Mizzery on a kount of + my not bein' here, and not harten your hart to her bekos she is top heavy—which + is ontroo and simply an imptient lie—like you allus make. I have a + kinary bird wot sings deliteful—but isn't a yellerhamer sutch as I + know, as you'd think. Dear Mister Montgommery, don't keep Gulan Amplak to + mutch shet up in office drors; it isn't good for his lungs and chest. And + don't you ink his head—nother! youre as bad as the rest. Johnny + Dear, you must be very kind to your attopted father, and you, Glory Anna, + must lov your kind Jimmy Carter verry mutch for taking you hossback so + offen. I has been buggy ridin' with an orficer who has killed injuns real! + I am comin' back soon with grate affeckshun, so luke out and mind.” + </p> + <p> + But it was three years before she returned, and this was her last and only + letter. The “adopted fathers” of her children were faithful, however, and + when the new line was opened, and it was understood that she was to be + present with her father at the ceremony, they came, with a common + understanding, to the station to meet their old playmate. They were ranged + along the platform—poor Jack Roper a little overweighted with a + bundle he was carrying on his left arm. And then a young girl in the + freshness of her teens and the spotless purity of a muslin frock that + although brief in skirt was perfect in fit, faultlessly booted and gloved, + tripped from the train, and offered a delicate hand in turn to each of her + old friends. Nothing could be prettier than the smile on the cheeks that + were no longer sunburnt; nothing could be clearer than the blue eyes + lifted frankly to theirs. And yet, as she gracefully turned away with her + father, the faces of the four adopted parents were found to be as red and + embarrassed as her own on the day that Yuba Bill drove up publicly with + “Johnny Dear” on the box seat. + </p> + <p> + “You weren't such a fool,” said Jack Montgomery to Roper, “as to bring + Misery here with you?” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” said Roper with a constrained laugh—“and you?” He had just + caught sight of the head of a ninepin peeping from the manager's pocket. + The man laughed, and then the four turned silently away. + </p> + <p> + “Mary” had indeed come back to them; but not “The Mother of Five!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BULGER'S REPUTATION + </h2> + <p> + We all remembered very distinctly Bulger's advent in Rattlesnake Camp. It + was during the rainy season—a season singularly inducive to settled + reflective impressions as we sat and smoked around the stove in Mosby's + grocery. Like older and more civilized communities, we had our periodic + waves of sentiment and opinion, with the exception that they were more + evanescent with us, and as we had just passed through a fortnight of + dissipation and extravagance, owing to a visit from some gamblers and + speculators, we were now undergoing a severe moral revulsion, partly + induced by reduced finances and partly by the arrival of two families with + grownup daughters on the hill. It was raining, with occasional warm + breaths, through the open window, of the southwest trades, redolent of the + saturated spices of the woods and springing grasses, which perhaps were + slightly inconsistent with the hot stove around which we had congregated. + But the stove was only an excuse for our listless, gregarious gathering; + warmth and idleness went well together, and it was currently accepted that + we had caught from the particular reptile which gave its name to our camp + much of its pathetic, lifelong search for warmth, and its habit of + indolently basking in it. + </p> + <p> + A few of us still went through the affectation of attempting to dry our + damp clothes by the stove, and sizzling our wet boots against it; but as + the same individuals calmly permitted the rain to drive in upon them + through the open window without moving, and seemed to take infinite + delight in the amount of steam they generated, even that pretense dropped. + Crotalus himself, with his tail in a muddy ditch, and the sun striking + cold fire from his slit eyes as he basked his head on a warm stone beside + it, could not have typified us better. + </p> + <p> + Percy Briggs took his pipe from his mouth at last and said, with + reflective severity: + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen, if we can't get the wagon road over here, and if we're + going to be left out by the stagecoach company, we can at least straighten + up the camp, and not have it look like a cross between a tenement alley + and a broken-down circus. I declare, I was just sick when these two Baker + girls started to make a short cut through the camp. Darned if they didn't + turn round and take to the woods and the rattlers again afore they got + halfway. And that benighted idiot, Tom Rollins, standin' there in the + ditch, spattered all over with slumgullion 'til he looked like a spotted + tarrypin, wavin' his fins and sashaying backwards and forrards and sayin', + 'This way, ladies; this way!'” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't,” returned Tom Rollins, quite casually, without looking up from + his steaming boots; “I didn't start in night afore last to dance 'The + Green Corn Dance' outer 'Hiawatha,' with feathers in my hair and a red + blanket on my shoulders, round that family's new potato patch, in order + that it might 'increase and multiply.' I didn't sing 'Sabbath Morning + Bells' with an anvil accompaniment until twelve o'clock at night over at + the Crossing, so that they might dream of their Happy Childhood's Home. It + seems to me that it wasn't me did it. I might be mistaken—it was + late—but I have the impression that it wasn't me.” + </p> + <p> + From the silence that followed, this would seem to have been clearly a + recent performance of the previous speaker, who, however, responded quite + cheerfully: + </p> + <p> + “An evenin' o' simple, childish gaiety don't count. We've got to start in + again FAIR. What we want here is to clear up and encourage decent + immigration, and get rid o' gamblers and blatherskites that are makin' + this yer camp their happy hunting-ground. We don't want any more permiskus + shootin'. We don't want any more paintin' the town red. We don't want any + more swaggerin' galoots ridin' up to this grocery and emptyin' their + six-shooters in the air afore they 'light. We want to put a stop to it + peacefully and without a row—and we kin. We ain't got no bullies of + our own to fight back, and they know it, so they know they won't get no + credit bullyin' us; they'll leave, if we're only firm. It's all along of + our cussed fool good-nature; they see it amuses us, and they'll keep it up + as long as the whisky's free. What we want to do is, when the next man + comes waltzin' along—” + </p> + <p> + A distant clatter from the rocky hillside here mingled with the puff of + damp air through the window. + </p> + <p> + “Looks as ef we might hev a show even now,” said Tom Rollins, removing his + feet from the stove as we all instinctively faced toward the window. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you're in with us in this, Mosby?” said Briggs, turning toward + the proprietor of the grocery, who had been leaning listlessly against the + wall behind his bar. + </p> + <p> + “Arter the man's had a fair show,” said Mosby, cautiously. He deprecated + the prevailing condition of things, but it was still an open question + whether the families would prove as valuable customers as his present + clients. “Everything in moderation, gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + The sound of galloping hoofs came nearer, now swishing in the soft mud of + the highway, until the unseen rider pulled up before the door. There was + no shouting, however, nor did he announce himself with the usual salvo of + firearms. But when, after a singularly heavy tread and the jingle of spurs + on the platform, the door flew open to the newcomer, he seemed a + realization of our worst expectations. Tall, broad, and muscular, he + carried in one hand a shotgun, while from his hip dangled a heavy navy + revolver. His long hair, unkempt but oiled, swept a greasy circle around + his shoulders; his enormous mustache, dripping with wet, completely + concealed his mouth. His costume of fringed buckskin was wild and outre + even for our frontier camp. But what was more confirmative of our + suspicions was that he was evidently in the habit of making an impression, + and after a distinct pause at the doorway, with only a side glance at us, + he strode toward the bar. + </p> + <p> + “As there don't seem to be no hotel hereabouts, I reckon I kin put up my + mustang here and have a shakedown somewhere behind that counter,” he said. + His voice seemed to have added to its natural depth the hoarseness of + frequent overstraining. + </p> + <p> + “Ye ain't got no bunk to spare, you boys, hev ye?” asked Mosby, evasively, + glancing at Percy Briggs without looking at the stranger. We all looked at + Briggs also; it was HIS affair after all—HE had originated this + opposition. To our surprise he said nothing. + </p> + <p> + The stranger leaned heavily on the counter. + </p> + <p> + “I was speaking to YOU,” he said, with his eyes on Mosby, and slightly + accenting the pronoun with a tap of his revolver butt on the bar. “Ye + don't seem to catch on.” + </p> + <p> + Mosby smiled feebly, and again cast an imploring glance at Briggs. To our + greater astonishment, Briggs said, quietly: “Why don't you answer the + stranger, Mosby?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Mosby, suavely, to the newcomer, while an angry flush + crossed his check as he recognized the position in which Briggs had placed + him. “Of course, you're welcome to what doings I hev here, but I reckoned + these gentlemen over there,” with a vicious glance at Briggs, “might fix + ye up suthin' better; they're so pow'ful kind to your sort.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger threw down a gold piece on the counter and said: “Fork out + your whisky, then,” waited until his glass was filled, took it in his + hand, and then, drawing an empty chair to the stove, sat down beside + Briggs. “Seein' as you're that kind,” he said, placing his heavy hand on + Briggs's knee, “mebbe ye kin tell me ef thar's a shanty or a cabin at + Rattlesnake that I kin get for a couple o' weeks. I saw an empty one at + the head o' the hill. You see, gennelmen,” he added confidentially as he + swept the drops of whisky from his long mustache with his fingers and + glanced around our group, “I've got some business over at Bigwood,” our + nearest town, “but ez a place to stay AT it ain't my style.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with Bigwood?” said Briggs, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “It's too howlin', too festive, too rough; thar's too much yellin' and + shootin' goin' day and night. Thar's too many card sharps and gay + gamboliers cavortin' about the town to please me. Too much permiskus + soakin' at the bar and free jimjams. What I want is a quiet place what a + man kin give his mind and elbow a rest from betwixt grippin' his shootin' + irons and crookin' in his whisky. A sort o' slow, quiet, easy place LIKE + THIS.” + </p> + <p> + We all stared at him, Percy Briggs as fixedly as any. But there was not + the slightest trace of irony, sarcasm, or peculiar significance in his + manner. He went on slowly: + </p> + <p> + “When I struck this yer camp a minit ago; when I seed that thar ditch + meanderin' peaceful like through the street, without a hotel or free + saloon or express office on either side; with the smoke just a curlin' + over the chimbley of that log shanty, and the bresh just set fire to and a + smolderin' in that potato patch with a kind o' old-time stingin' in your + eyes and nose, and a few women's duds just a flutterin' on a line by the + fence, I says to myself: 'Bulger—this is peace! This is wot you're + lookin' for, Bulger—this is wot you're wantin'—this is wot + YOU'LL HEV!'” + </p> + <p> + “You say you've business over at Bigwood. What business?” said Briggs. + </p> + <p> + “It's a peculiar business, young fellow,” returned the stranger, gravely. + “Thar's different men ez has different opinions about it. Some allows it's + an easy business, some allows it's a rough business; some says it's a sad + business, others says it's gay and festive. Some wonders ez how I've got + into it, and others wonder how I'll ever get out of it. It's a payin' + business—it's a peaceful sort o' business when left to itself. It's + a peculiar business—a business that sort o' b'longs to me, though I + ain't got no patent from Washington for it. It's MY OWN business.” He + paused, rose, and saying, “Let's meander over and take a look at that + empty cabin, and ef she suits me, why, I'll plank down a slug for her on + the spot, and move in tomorrow,” walked towards the door. “I'll pick up + suthin' in the way o' boxes and blankets from the grocery,” he added, + looking at Mosby, “and ef thar's a corner whar I kin stand my gun and a + nail to hang up my revolver—why, I'm all thar!” + </p> + <p> + By this time we were no longer astonished when Briggs rose also, and not + only accompanied the sinister-looking stranger to the empty cabin, but + assisted him in negotiating with its owner for a fortnight's occupancy. + Nevertheless, we eagerly assailed Briggs on his return for some + explanation of this singular change in his attitude toward the stranger. + He coolly reminded us, however, that while his intention of excluding + ruffianly adventurers from the camp remained the same, he had no right to + go back on the stranger's sentiments, which were evidently in accord with + our own, and although Mr. Bulger's appearance was inconsistent with them, + that was only an additional reason why we should substitute a mild + firmness for that violence which we all deprecated, but which might attend + his abrupt dismissal. We were all satisfied except Mosby, who had not yet + recovered from Briggs's change of front, which he was pleased to call + “craw-fishing.” “Seemed to me his account of his business was + extraordinary satisfactory! Sorter filled the bill all round—no + mistake thar,” he suggested, with a malicious irony. “I like a man that's + outspoken.” + </p> + <p> + “I understood him very well,” said Briggs, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “In course you did. Only when you've settled in your MIND whether he was + describing horse-stealing or tract-distributing, mebbe you'll let ME + know.” + </p> + <p> + It would seem, however, that Briggs did not interrogate the stranger again + regarding it, nor did we, who were quite content to leave matters in + Briggs's hands. Enough that Mr. Bulger moved into the empty cabin the next + day, and, with the aid of a few old boxes from the grocery, which he + quickly extemporized into tables and chairs, and the purchase of some + necessary cooking utensils, soon made himself at home. The rest of the + camp, now thoroughly aroused, made a point of leaving their work in the + ditches, whenever they could, to stroll carelessly around Bulger's + tenement in the vague hope of satisfying a curiosity that had become + tormenting. But they could not find that he was doing anything of a + suspicious character—except, perhaps, from the fact that it was not + OUTWARDLY suspicious, which I grieve to say did not lull them to security. + He seemed to be either fixing up his cabin or smoking in his doorway. On + the second day he checked this itinerant curiosity by taking the + initiative himself, and quietly walking from claim to claim and from cabin + to cabin with a pacific but by no means a satisfying interest. The shadow + of his tall figure carrying his inseparable gun, which had not yet + apparently “stood in the corner,” falling upon an excavated bank beside + the delving miners, gave them a sense of uneasiness they could not + explain; a few characteristic yells of boisterous hilarity from their + noontide gathering under a cottonwood somehow ceased when Mr. Bulger was + seen gravely approaching, and his casual stopping before a poker party in + the gulch actually caused one of the most reckless gamblers to weakly + recede from “a bluff” and allow his adversary to sweep the board. After + this it was felt that matters were becoming serious. There was no + subsequent patrolling of the camp before the stranger's cabin. Their + curiosity was singularly abated. A general feeling of repulsion, kept + within bounds partly by the absence of any overt act from Bulger, and + partly by an inconsistent over-consciousness of his shotgun, took its + place. But an unexpected occurrence revived it. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as the usual social circle were drawn around Mosby's stove, + the lazy silence was broken by the familiar sounds of pistol shots and a + series of more familiar shrieks and yells from the rocky hill road. The + circle quickly recognized the voices of their old friends the roisterers + and gamblers from Sawyer's Dam; they as quickly recognized the returning + shouts here and there from a few companions who were welcoming them. I + grieve to say that in spite of their previous attitude of reformation a + smile of gratified expectancy lit up the faces of the younger members, and + even the older ones glanced dubiously at Briggs. Mosby made no attempt to + conceal a sigh of relief as he carefully laid out an extra supply of + glasses in his bar. Suddenly the oncoming yells ceased, the wild gallop of + hoofs slackened into a trot, and finally halted, and even the responsive + shouts of the camp stopped also. We all looked vacantly at each other; + Mosby leaped over his counter and went to the door; Briggs followed with + the rest of us. The night was dark, and it was a few minutes before we + could distinguish a straggling, vague, but silent procession moving + through the moist, heavy air on the hill. But, to our surprise, it was + moving away from us—absolutely LEAVING the camp! We were still + staring in expectancy when out of the darkness slowly emerged a figure + which we recognized at once as Captain Jim, one of the most reckless + members of our camp. Pushing us back into the grocery he entered without a + word, closed the door behind him, and threw himself vacantly into a chair. + We at once pressed around him. He looked up at us dazedly, drew a long + breath, and said slowly: + </p> + <p> + “It's no use, gentlemen! Suthin's GOT to be done with that Bulger; and + mighty quick.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” we asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Matter!” he repeated, passing his hand across his forehead. “Matter! Look + yere! Ye all of you heard them boys from Sawyer's Dam coming over the + hill? Ye heard their music—mebbe ye heard US join in the chorus? + Well, on they came waltzing down the hill, like old times, and we waitin' + for 'em. Then, jest as they passed the old cabin, who do you think they + ran right into—shooting iron, long hair and mustache, and all that—standing + there plump in the road? why, Bulger!” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well!—Whatever it was—don't ask ME—but, dern my skin, + ef after a word or two from HIM—them boys just stopped yellin', + turned round like lambs, and rode away, peaceful-like, along with him. We + ran after them a spell, still yellin', when that thar Bulger faced around, + said to us that he'd 'come down here for quiet,' and ef he couldn't hev it + he'd have to leave with those gentlemen WHO WANTED IT too! And I'm gosh + darned ef those GENTLEMEN—you know 'em all—Patsey Carpenter, + Snapshot Harry, and the others—ever said a darned word, but kinder + nodded 'So long' and went away!” + </p> + <p> + Our astonishment and mystification were complete; and I regret to say, the + indignation of Captain Jim and Mosby equally so. “If we're going to be + bossed by the first newcomer,” said the former, gloomily, “I reckon we + might as well take our chances with the Sawyer's Dam boys, whom we know.” + </p> + <p> + “Ef we are going to hev the legitimate trade of Rattlesnake interfered + with by the cranks of some hidin' horse thief or retired road agent,” said + Mosby, “we might as well invite the hull of Joaquin Murietta's gang here + at once! But I suppose this is part o' Bulger's particular 'business,'” he + added, with a withering glance at Briggs. + </p> + <p> + “I understand it all,” said Briggs, quietly. “You know I told you that + bullies couldn't live in the same camp together. That's human nature—and + that's how plain men like you and me manage to scud along without getting + plugged. You see, Bulger wasn't going to hev any of his own kind jumpin' + his claim here. And I reckon he was pow'ful enough to back down Sawyer's + Dam. Anyhow, the bluff told—and here we are in peace and quietness.” + </p> + <p> + “Until he lets us know what is his little game,” sneered Mosby. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, such is the force of mysterious power that although it was + exercised against what we firmly believed was the independence of the + camp, it extorted a certain respect from us. A few thought it was not a + bad thing to have a professional bully, and even took care to relate the + discomfiture of the wicked youth of Sawyer's Dam for the benefit of a + certain adjacent and powerful camp who had looked down upon us. He + himself, returning the same evening from his self-imposed escort, + vouchsafed no other reason than the one he had already given. Preposterous + as it seemed, we were obliged to accept it, and the still more + preposterous inference that he had sought Rattlesnake Camp solely for the + purpose of acquiring and securing its peace and quietness. Certainly he + had no other occupation; the little work he did upon the tailings of the + abandoned claim which went with his little cabin was scarcely a pretense. + He rode over on certain days to Bigwood on account of his business, but no + one had ever seen him there, nor could the description of his manner and + appearance evoke any information from the Bigwoodians. It remained a + mystery. + </p> + <p> + It had also been feared that the advent of Bulger would intensify that + fear and dislike of riotous Rattlesnake which the two families had shown, + and which was the origin of Briggs's futile attempt at reformation. But it + was discovered that since his arrival the young girls had shown less + timidity in entering the camp, and had even exchanged some polite + conversation and good-humoured badinage with its younger and more + impressible members. Perhaps this tended to make these youths more + observant, for a few days later, when the vexed question of Bulger's + business was again under discussion, one of them remarked, gloomily: + </p> + <p> + “I reckon there ain't no doubt WHAT he's here for!” + </p> + <p> + The youthful prophet was instantly sat upon after the fashion of all + elderly critics since Job's. Nevertheless, after a pause he was permitted + to explain. + </p> + <p> + “Only this morning, when Lance Forester and me were chirping with them + gals out on the hill, who should we see hanging around in the bush but + that cussed Bulger! We allowed at first that it might be only a new style + of his interferin', so we took no notice, except to pass a few remarks + about listeners and that sort o' thing, and perhaps to bedevil the girls a + little more than we'd hev done if we'd been alone. Well, they laughed, and + we laughed—and that was the end of it. But this afternoon, as Lance + and me were meandering down by their cabin, we sorter turned into the + woods to wait till they'd come out. Then all of a suddent Lance stopped as + rigid as a pointer that's flushed somethin', and says, 'B'gosh!' And thar, + under a big redwood, sat that slimy hypocrite Bulger, twisting his long + mustaches and smiling like clockwork alongside o' little Meely Baker—you + know her, the pootiest of the two sisters—and she smilin' back on + him. Think of it! that unknown, unwashed, longhaired tramp and bully, who + must be forty if a day, and that innocent gal of sixteen. It was simply + disgustin'!” + </p> + <p> + I need not say that the older cynics and critics already alluded to at + once improved the occasion. 'What more could be expected? Women, the world + over, were noted for this sort of thing! This long-haired, swaggering + bully, with his air of mystery, had captivated them, as he always had done + since the days of Homer. Simple merit, which sat lowly in barrooms, and + conceived projects for the public good around the humble, unostentatious + stove, was nowhere! Youth could not too soon learn this bitter lesson. And + in this case youth too, perhaps, was right in its conjectures, for this + WAS, no doubt, the little game of the perfidious Bulger. We recalled the + fact that his unhallowed appearance in camp was almost coincident with the + arrival of the two families. We glanced at Briggs; to our amazement, for + the first time he looked seriously concerned. But Mosby in the meantime + leaned his elbows lazily over the counter and, in a slow voice, added fuel + to the flame. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't hev spoken of it before,” he said, with a sidelong glance at + Briggs, “for it might be all in the line o' Bulger's 'business,' but + suthin' happened the other night that, for a minit, got me! I was passin' + the Bakers' shanty, and I heard one of them gals a singing a camp-meeting + hymn. I don't calkilate to run agin you young fellers in any sparkin' or + canoodlin' that's goin' on, but her voice sounded so pow'ful soothin' and + pretty thet I jest stood there and listened. Then the old woman—old + Mother Baker—SHE joined in, and I listened too. And then—dern + my skin!—but a man's voice joined in—jest belching outer that + cabin!—and I sorter lifted myself up and kem away. + </p> + <p> + “That voice, gentlemen,” said Mosby, lingering artistically as he took up + a glass and professionally eyed it before wiping it with his towel, “that + voice, cumf'bly fixed thar in thet cabin among them wimen folks, was + Bulger's!” + </p> + <p> + Briggs got up, with his eyes looking the darker for his flushed face. + “Gentlemen,” he said huskily, “thar's only one thing to be done. A lot of + us have got to ride over to Sawyer's Dam tomorrow morning and pick up as + many square men as we can muster; there's a big camp meeting goin' on + there, and there won't be no difficulty in that. When we've got a big + enough crowd to show we mean business, we must march back here and ride + Bulger out of this camp! I don't hanker arter Vigilance Committees, as a + rule—it's a rough remedy—it's like drinkin' a quart o' whisky + agin rattlesnake poison but it's got to be done! We don't mind being sold + ourselves but when it comes to our standin' by and seein' the only + innocent people in Rattlesnake given away—we kick! Bulger's got to + be fired outer this camp! And he will be!” + </p> + <p> + But he was not. + </p> + <p> + For when, the next morning, a determined and thoughtful procession of the + best and most characteristic citizens of Rattlesnake Camp filed into + Sawyer's Dam, they found that their mysterious friends had disappeared, + although they met with a fraternal but subdued welcome from the general + camp. But any approach to the subject of their visit, however, was + received with a chilling dissapproval. Did they not know that lawlessness + of any kind, even under the rude mantle of frontier justice, was to be + deprecated and scouted when a “means of salvation, a power of + regeneration,” such as was now sweeping over Sawyer's Dam, was at hand? + Could they not induce this man who was to be violently deported to + accompany them willingly to Sawyer's Dam and subject himself to the + powerful influence of the “revival” then in full swing? + </p> + <p> + The Rattlesnake boys laughed bitterly, and described the man of whom they + talked so lightly; but in vain. “It's no use, gentlemen,” said a more + worldly bystander, in a lower voice, “the camp meetin's got a strong grip + here, and betwixt you and me there ain't no wonder. For the man that runs + it—the big preacher—has got new ways and methods that fetches + the boys every time. He don't preach no cut-and-dried gospel; he don't + carry around no slop-shop robes and clap 'em on you whether they fit or + not; but he samples and measures the camp afore he wades into it. He + scouts and examines; he ain't no mere Sunday preacher with a comfortable + house and once-a-week church, but he gives up his days and nights to it, + and makes his family work with him, and even sends 'em forward to explore + the field. And he ain't no white-choker shadbelly either, but fits + himself, like his gospel, to the men he works among. Ye ought to hear him + afore you go. His tent is just out your way. I'll go with you.” + </p> + <p> + Too dejected to offer any opposition, and perhaps a little curious to see + this man who had unwittingly frustrated their design of lynching Bulger, + they halted at the outer fringe of worshipers who packed the huge + inclosure. They had not time to indulge their cynicisms over this swaying + mass of emotional, half-thinking, and almost irresponsible beings, nor to + detect any similarity between THEIR extreme methods and the scheme of + redemption they themselves were seeking, for in a few moments, apparently + lifted to his feet on a wave of religious exultation, the famous preacher + arose. The men of Rattlesnake gasped for breath. + </p> + <p> + It was Bulger! + </p> + <p> + But Briggs quickly recovered himself. “By what name,” said he, turning + passionately towards his guide, “does this man—this impostor—call + himself here?” + </p> + <p> + “Baker.” + </p> + <p> + “Baker?” echoed the Rattlesnake contingent. + </p> + <p> + “Baker?” repeated Lance Forester, with a ghastly smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” returned their guide. “You oughter know it too! For he sent his + wife and daughters over, after his usual style, to sample your camp, a + week ago! Come, now, what are you givin' us?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IN THE TULES + </h2> + <p> + He had never seen a steamboat in his life. Born and reared in one of the + Western Territories, far from a navigable river, he had only known the + “dugout” or canoe as a means of conveyance across the scant streams whose + fordable waters made even those scarcely a necessity. The long, narrow, + hooded wagon, drawn by swaying oxen, known familiarly as a “prairie + schooner,” in which he journeyed across the plains to California in '53, + did not help his conception by that nautical figure. And when at last he + dropped upon the land of promise through one of the Southern mountain + passes he halted all unconsciously upon the low banks of a great yellow + river amidst a tangled brake of strange, reed-like grasses that were + unknown to him. The river, broadening as it debouched through many + channels into a lordly bay, seemed to him the ULTIMA THULE of his + journeyings. Unyoking his oxen on the edge of the luxuriant meadows which + blended with scarcely any line of demarcation into the great stream + itself, he found the prospect “good” according to his lights and prairial + experiences, and, converting his halted wagon into a temporary cabin, he + resolved to rest here and “settle.” + </p> + <p> + There was little difficulty in so doing. The cultivated clearings he had + passed were few and far between; the land would be his by discovery and + occupation; his habits of loneliness and self-reliance made him + independent of neighbors. He took his first meal in his new solitude under + a spreading willow, but so near his natural boundary that the waters + gurgled and oozed in the reeds but a few feet from him. The sun sank, + deepening the gold of the river until it might have been the stream of + Pactolus itself. But Martin Morse had no imagination; he was not even a + gold-seeker; he had simply obeyed the roving instincts of the frontiersman + in coming hither. The land was virgin and unoccupied; it was his; he was + alone. These questions settled, he smoked his pipe with less concern over + his three thousand miles' transference of habitation than the man of + cities who had moved into a next street. When the sun sank, he rolled + himself in his blankets in the wagon bed and went quietly to sleep. + </p> + <p> + But he was presently awakened by something which at first he could not + determine to be a noise or an intangible sensation. It was a deep + throbbing through the silence of the night—a pulsation that seemed + even to be communicated to the rude bed whereon he lay. As it came nearer + it separated itself into a labored, monotonous panting, continuous, but + distinct from an equally monotonous but fainter beating of the waters, as + if the whole track of the river were being coursed and trodden by a + multitude of swiftly trampling feet. A strange feeling took possession of + him—half of fear, half of curious expectation. It was coming nearer. + He rose, leaped hurriedly from the wagon, and ran to the bank. The night + was dark; at first he saw nothing before him but the steel-black sky + pierced with far-spaced, irregularly scattered stars. Then there seemed to + be approaching him, from the left, another and more symmetrical + constellation—a few red and blue stars high above the river, with + three compact lines of larger planetary lights flashing towards him and + apparently on his own level. It was almost upon him; he involuntarily drew + back as the strange phenomenon swept abreast of where he stood, and + resolved itself into a dark yet airy bulk, whose vagueness, topped by + enormous towers, was yet illuminated by those open squares of light that + he had taken for stars, but which he saw now were brilliantly lit windows. + </p> + <p> + Their vivid rays shot through the reeds and sent broad bands across the + meadow, the stationary wagon, and the slumbering oxen. But all this was + nothing to the inner life they disclosed through lifted curtains and open + blinds, which was the crowning revelation of this strange and wonderful + spectacle. Elegantly dressed men and women moved through brilliantly lit + and elaborately gilt saloons; in one a banquet seemed to be spread, served + by white-jacketed servants; in another were men playing cards around + marble-topped tables; in another the light flashed back again from the + mirrors and glistening glasses and decanters of a gorgeous refreshment + saloon; in smaller openings there was the shy disclosure of dainty white + curtains and velvet lounges of more intimate apartments. + </p> + <p> + Martin Morse stood enthralled and mystified. It was as if some invisible + Asmodeus had revealed to this simple frontiersman a world of which he had + never dreamed. It was THE world—a world of which he knew nothing in + his simple, rustic habits and profound Western isolation—sweeping by + him with the rush of an unknown planet. In another moment it was gone; a + shower of sparks shot up from one of the towers and fell all around him, + and then vanished, even as he remembered the set piece of “Fourth of July” + fireworks had vanished in his own rural town when he was a boy. The + darkness fell with it too. But such was his utter absorption and + breathless preoccupation that only a cold chill recalled him to himself, + and he found he was standing mid-leg deep in the surge cast over the low + banks by this passage of the first steamboat he had ever seen! + </p> + <p> + He waited for it the next night, when it appeared a little later from the + opposite direction on its return trip. He watched it the next night and + the next. Hereafter he never missed it, coming or going—whatever the + hard and weary preoccupations of his new and lonely life. He felt he could + not have slept without seeing it go by. Oddly enough, his interest and + desire did not go further. Even had he the time and money to spend in a + passage on the boat, and thus actively realize the great world of which he + had only these rare glimpses, a certain proud, rustic shyness kept him + from it. It was not HIS world; he could not affront the snubs that his + ignorance and inexperience would have provoked, and he was dimly + conscious, as so many of us are in our ignorance, that in mingling with it + he would simply lose the easy privileges of alien criticism. For there was + much that he did not understand, and some things that grated upon his + lonely independence. + </p> + <p> + One night, a lighter one than those previous, he lingered a little longer + in the moonlight to watch the phosphorescent wake of the retreating boat. + Suddenly it struck him that there was a certain irregular splashing in the + water, quite different from the regular, diagonally crossing surges that + the boat swept upon the bank. Looking at it more intently, he saw a black + object turning in the water like a porpoise, and then the unmistakable + uplifting of a black arm in an unskillful swimmer's overhand stroke. It + was a struggling man. But it was quickly evident that the current was too + strong and the turbulence of the shallow water too great for his efforts. + Without a moment's hesitation, clad as he was in only his shirt and + trousers, Morse strode into the reeds, and the next moment, with a call of + warning, was swimming toward the now wildly struggling figure. But, from + some unknown reason, as Morse approached him nearer the man uttered some + incoherent protest and desperately turned away, throwing off Morse's + extended arm. + </p> + <p> + Attributing this only to the vague convulsions of a drowning man, Morse, a + skilled swimmer, managed to clutch his shoulder, and propelled him at + arm's length, still struggling, apparently with as much reluctance as + incapacity, toward the bank. As their feet touched the reeds and slimy + bottom the man's resistance ceased, and he lapsed quite listlessly in + Morse's arms. Half lifting, half dragging his burden, he succeeded at last + in gaining the strip of meadow, and deposited the unconscious man beneath + the willow tree. Then he ran to his wagon for whisky. + </p> + <p> + But, to his surprise, on his return the man was already sitting up and + wringing the water from his clothes. He then saw for the first time, by + the clear moonlight, that the stranger was elegantly dressed and of + striking appearance, and was clearly a part of that bright and fascinating + world which Morse had been contemplating in his solitude. He eagerly took + the proffered tin cup and drank the whisky. Then he rose to his feet, + staggered a few steps forward, and glanced curiously around him at the + still motionless wagon, the few felled trees and evidence of “clearing,” + and even at the rude cabin of logs and canvas just beginning to rise from + the ground a few paces distant, and said, impatiently: + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil am I?” + </p> + <p> + Morse hesitated. He was unable to name the locality of his dwelling-place. + He answered briefly: + </p> + <p> + “On the right bank of the Sacramento.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger turned upon him a look of suspicion not unmingled with + resentment. “Oh!” he said, with ironical gravity, “and I suppose that this + water you picked me out of was the Sacramento River. Thank you!” + </p> + <p> + Morse, with slow Western patience, explained that he had only settled + there three weeks ago, and the place had no name. + </p> + <p> + “What's your nearest town, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't any. Thar's a blacksmith's shop and grocery at the crossroads, + twenty miles further on, but it's got no name as I've heard on.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger's look of suspicion passed. “Well,” he said, in an imperative + fashion, which, however, seemed as much the result of habit as the + occasion, “I want a horse, and mighty quick, too.” + </p> + <p> + “H'ain't got any.” + </p> + <p> + “No horse? How did you get to this place?” + </p> + <p> + Morse pointed to the slumbering oxen. + </p> + <p> + The stranger again stared curiously at him. After a pause he said, with a + half-pitying, half-humorous smile: “Pike—aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + Whether Morse did or did not know that this current California slang for a + denizen of the bucolic West implied a certain contempt, he replied simply: + </p> + <p> + “I'm from Pike County, Mizzouri.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the stranger, resuming his impatient manner, “you must beg or + steal a horse from your neighbors.” + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't any neighbor nearer than fifteen miles.” + </p> + <p> + “Then send fifteen miles! Stop.” He opened his still clinging shirt and + drew out a belt pouch, which he threw to Morse. “There! there's two + hundred and fifty dollars in that. Now, I want a horse. Sabe?” + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't anyone to send,” said Morse, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you are all alone here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. + </p> + <p> + “And you fished me out—all by yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger again examined him curiously. Then he suddenly stretched out + his hand and grasped his companion's. + </p> + <p> + “All right; if you can't send, I reckon I can manage to walk over there + tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I was goin' on to say,” said Morse, simply, “that if you'll lie by + tonight, I'll start over sunup, after puttin' out the cattle, and fetch + you back a horse afore noon.” + </p> + <p> + “That's enough.” He, however, remained looking curiously at Morse. “Did + you never hear,” he said, with a singular smile, “that it was about the + meanest kind of luck that could happen to you to save a drowning man?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Morse, simply. “I reckon it orter be the meanest if you + DIDN'T.” + </p> + <p> + “That depends upon the man you save,” said the stranger, with the same + ambiguous smile, “and whether the SAVING him is only putting things off. + Look here,” he added, with an abrupt return to his imperative style, + “can't you give me some dry clothes?” + </p> + <p> + Morse brought him a pair of overalls and a “hickory shirt,” well worn, but + smelling strongly of a recent wash with coarse soap. The stranger put them + on while his companion busied himself in collecting a pile of sticks and + dry leaves. + </p> + <p> + “What's that for?” said the stranger, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “A fire to dry your clothes.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger calmly kicked the pile aside. + </p> + <p> + “Not any fire tonight if I know it,” he said, brusquely. Before Morse + could resent his quickly changing moods he continued, in another tone, + dropping to an easy reclining position beneath the tree, “Now, tell me all + about yourself, and what you are doing here.” + </p> + <p> + Thus commanded, Morse patiently repeated his story from the time he had + left his backwoods cabin to his selection of the river bank for a + “location.” He pointed out the rich quality of this alluvial bottom and + its adaptability for the raising of stock, which he hoped soon to acquire. + The stranger smiled grimly, raised himself to a sitting position, and, + taking a penknife from his damp clothes, began to clean his nails in the + bright moonlight—an occupation which made the simple Morse wander + vaguely in his narration. + </p> + <p> + “And you don't know that this hole will give you chills and fever till + you'll shake yourself out of your boots?” + </p> + <p> + Morse had lived before in aguish districts, and had no fear. + </p> + <p> + “And you never heard that some night the whole river will rise up and walk + over you and your cabin and your stock?” + </p> + <p> + “No. For I reckon to move my shanty farther back.” + </p> + <p> + The man shut up his penknife with a click and rose. + </p> + <p> + “If you've got to get up at sunrise, we'd better be turning in. I suppose + you can give me a pair of blankets?” + </p> + <p> + Morse pointed to the wagon. “Thar's a shakedown in the wagon bed; you kin + lie there.” Nevertheless he hesitated, and, with the inconsequence and + abruptness of a shy man, continued the previous conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't like to move far away, for them steamboats is pow'ful kempany + o' nights. I never seed one afore I kem here,” and then, with the + inconsistency of a reserved man, and without a word of further + preliminary, he launched into a confidential disclosure of his late + experiences. The stranger listened with a singular interest and a quietly + searching eye. + </p> + <p> + “Then you were watching the boat very closely just now when you saw me. + What else did you see? Anything before that—before you saw me in the + water?” + </p> + <p> + “No—the boat had got well off before I saw you at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the stranger. “Well, I'm going to turn in.” He walked to the + wagon, mounted it, and by the time that Morse had reached it with his wet + clothes he was already wrapped in the blankets. A moment later he seemed + to be in a profound slumber. + </p> + <p> + It was only then, when his guest was lying helplessly at his mercy, that + he began to realize his strange experiences. The domination of this man + had been so complete that Morse, although by nature independent and + self-reliant, had not permitted himself to question his right or to resent + his rudeness. He had accepted his guest's careless or premeditated silence + regarding the particulars of his accident as a matter of course, and had + never dreamed of questioning him. That it was a natural accident of that + great world so apart from his own experiences he did not doubt, and + thought no more about it. The advent of the man himself was greater to him + than the causes which brought him there. He was as yet quite unconscious + of the complete fascination this mysterious stranger held over him, but he + found himself shyly pleased with even the slight interest he had displayed + in his affairs, and his hand felt yet warm and tingling from his sudden + soft but expressive grasp, as if it had been a woman's. There is a simple + intuition of friendship in some lonely, self-abstracted natures that is + nearly akin to love at first sight. Even the audacities and insolence of + this stranger affected Morse as he might have been touched and captivated + by the coquetries or imperiousness of some bucolic virgin. And this + reserved and shy frontiersman found himself that night sleepless, and + hovering with an abashed timidity and consciousness around the wagon that + sheltered his guest, as if he had been a very Corydon watching the moonlit + couch of some slumbering Amaryllis. + </p> + <p> + He was off by daylight—after having placed a rude breakfast by the + side of the still sleeping guest—and before midday he had returned + with a horse. When he handed the stranger his pouch, less the amount he + had paid for the horse, the man said curtly: + </p> + <p> + “What's that for?” + </p> + <p> + “Your change. I paid only fifty dollars for the horse.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger regarded him with his peculiar smile. Then, replacing the + pouch in his belt, he shook Morse's hand again and mounted the horse. + </p> + <p> + “So your name's Martin Morse! Well—goodby, Morsey!” + </p> + <p> + Morse hesitated. A blush rose to his dark check. “You didn't tell me your + name,” he said. “In case—” + </p> + <p> + “In case I'm WANTED? Well, you can call me Captain Jack.” He smiled, and, + nodding his head, put spurs to his mustang and cantered away. + </p> + <p> + Morse did not do much work that day, falling into abstracted moods and + living over his experiences of the previous night, until he fancied he + could almost see his strange guest again. The narrow strip of meadow was + haunted by him. There was the tree under which he had first placed him, + and that was where he had seen him sitting up in his dripping but + well-fitting clothes. In the rough garments he had worn and returned + lingered a new scent of some delicate soap, overpowering the strong alkali + flavor of his own. He was early by the river side, having a vague hope, he + knew not why, that he should again see him and recognize him among the + passengers. He was wading out among the reeds, in the faint light of the + rising moon, recalling the exact spot where he had first seen the + stranger, when he was suddenly startled by the rolling over in the water + of some black object that had caught against the bank, but had been + dislodged by his movements. To his horror it bore a faint resemblance to + his first vision of the preceding night. But a second glance at the + helplessly floating hair and bloated outline showed him that it was a DEAD + man, and of a type and build far different from his former companion. + There was a bruise upon his matted forehead and an enormous wound in his + throat already washed bloodless, white, and waxen. An inexplicable fear + came upon him, not at the sight of the corpse, for he had been in Indian + massacres and had rescued bodies mutilated beyond recognition; but from + some moral dread that, strangely enough, quickened and deepened with the + far-off pant of the advancing steamboat. Scarcely knowing why, he dragged + the body hurriedly ashore, concealing it in the reeds, as if he were + disposing of the evidence of his own crime. Then, to his preposterous + terror, he noticed that the panting of the steamboat and the beat of its + paddles were “slowing” as the vague bulk came in sight, until a huge wave + from the suddenly arrested wheels sent a surge like an enormous heartbeat + pulsating through the sedge that half submerged him. The flashing of three + or four lanterns on deck and the motionless line of lights abreast of him + dazzled his eyes, but he knew that the low fringe of willows hid his house + and wagon completely from view. A vague murmur of voices from the deck was + suddenly overridden by a sharp order, and to his relief the slowly + revolving wheels again sent a pulsation through the water, and the great + fabric moved solemnly away. A sense of relief came over him, he knew not + why, and he was conscious that for the first time he had not cared to look + at the boat. + </p> + <p> + When the moon arose he again examined the body, and took from its clothing + a few articles of identification and some papers of formality and + precision, which he vaguely conjectured to be some law papers from their + resemblance to the phrasing of sheriffs' and electors' notices which he + had seen in the papers. He then buried the corpse in a shallow trench, + which he dug by the light of the moon. He had no question of + responsibility; his pioneer training had not included coroners' inquests + in its experience; in giving the body a speedy and secure burial from + predatory animals he did what one frontiersman would do for another—what + he hoped might be done for him. If his previous unaccountable feelings + returned occasionally, it was not from that; but rather from some + uneasiness in regard to his late guest's possible feelings, and a regret + that he had not been here at the finding of the body. That it would in + some way have explained his own accident he did not doubt. + </p> + <p> + The boat did not “slow up” the next night, but passed as usual; yet three + or four days elapsed before he could look forward to its coming with his + old extravagant and half-exalted curiosity—which was his nearest + approach to imagination. He was then able to examine it more closely, for + the appearance of the stranger whom he now began to call “his friend” in + his verbal communings with himself—but whom he did not seem destined + to again discover; until one day, to his astonishment, a couple of fine + horses were brought to his clearing by a stock-drover. They had been + “ordered” to be left there. In vain Morse expostulated and questioned. + </p> + <p> + “Your name's Martin Morse, ain't it?” said the drover, with business + brusqueness; “and I reckon there ain't no other man o' that name around + here?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Morse. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, they're YOURS.” + </p> + <p> + “But who sent them?” insisted Morse. “What was his name, and where does he + live?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know ez I was called upon to give the pedigree o' buyers,” said + the drover dryly; “but the horses is 'Morgan,' you can bet your life.” He + grinned as he rode away. + </p> + <p> + That Captain Jack sent them, and that it was a natural prelude to his + again visiting him, Morse did not doubt, and for a few days he lived in + that dream. But Captain Jack did not come. The animals were of great + service to him in “rounding up” the stock he now easily took in for + pasturage, and saved him the necessity of having a partner or a hired man. + The idea that this superior gentleman in fine clothes might ever appear to + him in the former capacity had even flitted through his brain, but he had + rejected it with a sigh. But the thought that, with luck and industry, he + himself might, in course of time, approximate to Captain Jack's evident + station, DID occur to him, and was an incentive to energy. Yet it was + quite distinct from the ordinary working man's ambition of wealth and + state. It was only that it might make him more worthy of his friend. The + great world was still as it had appeared to him in the passing boat—a + thing to wonder at—to be above—and to criticize. + </p> + <p> + For all that, he prospered in his occupation. But one day he woke with + listless limbs and feet that scarcely carried him through his daily + labors. At night his listlessness changed to active pain and a + feverishness that seemed to impel him toward the fateful river, as if his + one aim in life was to drink up its waters and bathe in its yellow stream. + But whenever he seemed to attempt it, strange dreams assailed him of dead + bodies arising with swollen and distorted lips to touch his own as he + strove to drink, or of his mysterious guest battling with him in its + current, and driving him ashore. Again, when he essayed to bathe his + parched and crackling limbs in its flood, he would be confronted with the + dazzling lights of the motionless steamboat and the glare of stony eyes—until + he fled in aimless terror. How long this lasted he knew not, until one + morning he awoke in his new cabin with a strange man sitting by his bed + and a Negress in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “You've had a sharp attack of 'tule fever,'” said the stranger, dropping + Morse's listless wrist and answering his questioning eyes, “but you're all + right now, and will pull through.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” stammered Morse feebly. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Duchesne, of Sacramento.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you come here?” + </p> + <p> + “I was ordered to come to you and bring a nurse, as you were alone. There + she is.” He pointed to the smiling Negress. + </p> + <p> + “WHO ordered you?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor smiled with professional tolerance. “One of your friends, of + course.” + </p> + <p> + “But what was his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Really, I don't remember. But don't distress yourself. He has settled for + everything right royally. You have only to get strong now. My duty is + ended, and I can safely leave you with the nurse. Only when you are strong + again, I say—and HE says—keep back farther from the river.” + </p> + <p> + And that was all he knew. For even the nurse who attended him through the + first days of his brief convalescence would tell him nothing more. He + quickly got rid of her and resumed his work, for a new and strange phase + of his simple, childish affection for his benefactor, partly superinduced + by his illness, was affecting him. He was beginning to feel the pain of an + unequal friendship; he was dimly conscious that his mysterious guest was + only coldly returning his hospitality and benefits, while holding aloof + from any association with him—and indicating the immeasurable + distance that separated their future intercourse. He had withheld any kind + message or sympathetic greeting; he had kept back even his NAME. The shy, + proud, ignorant heart of the frontiersman swelled beneath the fancied + slight, which left him helpless alike of reproach or resentment. He could + not return the horses, although in a fit of childish indignation he had + resolved not to use them; he could not reimburse him for the doctor's + bill, although he had sent away the nurse. + </p> + <p> + He took a foolish satisfaction in not moving back from the river, with a + faint hope that his ignoring of Captain Jack's advice might mysteriously + be conveyed to him. He even thought of selling out his location and + abandoning it, that he might escape the cold surveillance of his heartless + friend. All this was undoubtedly childish—but there is an + irrepressible simplicity of youth in all deep feeling, and the worldly + inexperience of the frontiersman left him as innocent as a child. In this + phase of his unrequited affection he even went so far as to seek some news + of Captain Jack at Sacramento, and, following out his foolish quest, even + to take the steamboat from thence to Stockton. + </p> + <p> + What happened to him then was perhaps the common experience of such + natures. Once upon the boat the illusion of the great world it contained + for him utterly vanished. He found it noisy, formal, insincere, and—had + he ever understood or used the word in his limited vocabulary—VULGAR. + Rather, perhaps, it seemed to him that the prevailing sentiment and action + of those who frequented it—and for whom it was built—were of a + lower grade than his own. And, strangely enough, this gave him none of his + former sense of critical superiority, but only of his own utter and + complete isolation. He wandered in his rough frontiersman's clothes from + deck to cabin, from airy galleries to long saloons, alone, unchallenged, + unrecognized, as if he were again haunting it only in spirit, as he had so + often done in his dreams. + </p> + <p> + His presence on the fringe of some voluble crowd caused no interruption; + to him their speech was almost foreign in its allusions to things he did + not understand, or, worse, seemed inconsistent with their eagerness and + excitement. How different from all this were his old recollections of + slowly oncoming teams, uplifted above the level horizon of the plains in + his former wanderings; the few sauntering figures that met him as man to + man, and exchanged the chronicle of the road; the record of Indian tracks; + the finding of a spring; the discovery of pasturage, with the lazy, + restful hospitality of the night! And how fierce here this continual + struggle for dominance and existence, even in this lull of passage. For + above all and through all he was conscious of the feverish haste of speed + and exertion. + </p> + <p> + The boat trembled, vibrated, and shook with every stroke of the ponderous + piston. The laughter of the crowd, the exchange of gossip and news, the + banquet at the long table, the newspapers and books in the reading-room, + even the luxurious couches in the staterooms, were all dominated, + thrilled, and pulsating with the perpetual throb of the demon of hurry and + unrest. And when at last a horrible fascination dragged him into the + engine room, and he saw the cruel relentless machinery at work, he seemed + to recognize and understand some intelligent but pitiless Moloch, who was + dragging this feverish world at its heels. + </p> + <p> + Later he was seated in a corner of the hurricane deck, whence he could + view the monotonous banks of the river; yet, perhaps by certain signs + unobservable to others, he knew he was approaching his own locality. He + knew that his cabin and clearing would be undiscernible behind the fringe + of willows on the bank, but he already distinguished the points where a + few cottonwoods struggled into a promontory of lighter foliage beyond + them. Here voices fell upon his ear, and he was suddenly aware that two + men had lazily crossed over from the other side of the boat, and were + standing before him looking upon the bank. + </p> + <p> + “It was about here, I reckon,” said one, listlessly, as if continuing a + previous lagging conversation, “that it must have happened. For it was + after we were making for the bend we've just passed that the deputy, goin' + to the stateroom below us, found the door locked and the window open. But + both men—Jack Despard and Seth Hall, the sheriff—weren't to be + found. Not a trace of 'em. The boat was searched, but all for nothing. The + idea is that the sheriff, arter getting his prisoner comf'ble in the + stateroom, took off Jack's handcuffs and locked the door; that Jack, who + was mighty desp'rate, bolted through the window into the river, and the + sheriff, who was no slouch, arter him. Others allow—for the chairs + and things was all tossed about in the stateroom—that the two men + clinched THAR, and Jack choked Hall and chucked him out, and then slipped + cl'ar into the water himself, for the stateroom window was just ahead of + the paddle box, and the cap'n allows that no man or men could fall afore + the paddles and live. Anyhow, that was all they ever knew of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And there wasn't no trace of them found?” said the second man, after a + long pause. + </p> + <p> + “No. Cap'n says them paddles would hev' just snatched 'em and slung 'em + round and round and buried 'em way down in the ooze of the river bed, with + all the silt of the current atop of 'em, and they mightn't come up for + ages; or else the wheels might have waltzed 'em way up to Sacramento until + there wasn't enough left of 'em to float, and dropped 'em when the boat + stopped.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a mighty fool risk for a man like Despard to take,” resumed the + second speaker as he turned away with a slight yawn. + </p> + <p> + “Bet your life! but he was desp'rate, and the sheriff had got him sure! + And they DO say that he was superstitious, like all them gamblers, and + allowed that a man who was fixed to die by a rope or a pistol wasn't to be + washed out of life by water.” + </p> + <p> + The two figures drifted lazily away, but Morse sat rigid and motionless. + Yet, strange to say, only one idea came to him clearly out of this awful + revelation—the thought that his friend was still true to him—and + that his strange absence and mysterious silence were fully accounted for + and explained. And with it came the more thrilling fancy that this man was + alive now to HIM alone. + </p> + <p> + HE was the sole custodian of his secret. The morality of the question, + while it profoundly disturbed him, was rather in reference to its effect + upon the chances of Captain Jack and the power it gave his enemies than + his own conscience. He would rather that his friend should have proven the + proscribed outlaw who retained an unselfish interest in him than the + superior gentleman who was coldly wiping out his gratitude. He thought he + understood now the reason of his visitor's strange and varying moods—even + his bitter superstitious warning in regard to the probable curse entailed + upon one who should save a drowning man. Of this he recked little; enough + that he fancied that Captain Jack's concern in his illness was heightened + by that fear, and this assurance of his protecting friendship thrilled him + with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + There was no reason now why he should not at once go back to his farm, + where, at least, Captain Jack would always find him; and he did so, + returning on the same boat. He was now fully recovered from his illness, + and calmer in mind; he redoubled his labors to put himself in a position + to help the mysterious fugitive when the time should come. The remote farm + should always be a haven of refuge for him, and in this hope he forbore to + take any outside help, remaining solitary and alone, that Captain Jack's + retreat should be inviolate. And so the long, dry season passed, the hay + was gathered, the pasturing herds sent home, and the first rains, dimpling + like shot the broadening surface of the river, were all that broke his + unending solitude. In this enforced attitude of waiting and expectancy he + was exalted and strengthened by a new idea. He was not a religious man, + but, dimly remembering the exhortations of some camp meeting of his + boyhood, he conceived the idea that he might have been selected to work + out the regeneration of Captain Jack. What might not come of this meeting + and communing together in this lonely spot? That anything was due to the + memory of the murdered sheriff, whose bones were rotting in the trench + that he daily but unconcernedly passed, did not occur to him. Perhaps his + mind was not large enough for the double consideration. Friendship and + love—and, for the matter of that, religion—are eminently + one-ideaed. + </p> + <p> + But one night he awakened with a start. His hand, which was hanging out of + his bunk, was dabbling idly in water. He had barely time to spring to his + middle in what seemed to be a slowly filling tank before the door fell out + as from that inward pressure, and his whole shanty collapsed like a pack + of cards. But it fell outwards, the roof sliding from over his head like a + withdrawn canopy; and he was swept from his feet against it, and thence + out into what might have been another world! For the rain had ceased, and + the full moon revealed only one vast, illimitable expanse of water! It was + not an overflow, but the whole rushing river magnified and repeated a + thousand times, which, even as he gasped for breath and clung to the roof, + was bearing him away he knew not whither. But it was bearing him away upon + its center, for as he cast one swift glance toward his meadows he saw they + were covered by the same sweeping torrent, dotted with his sailing + hayricks and reaching to the wooded foothills. It was the great flood of + '54. In its awe-inspiring completeness it might have seemed to him the + primeval Deluge. + </p> + <p> + As his frail raft swept under a cottonwood he caught at one of the + overhanging limbs, and, working his way desperately along the bough, at + last reached a secure position in the fork of the tree. Here he was for + the moment safe. But the devastation viewed from this height was only the + more appalling. Every sign of his clearing, all evidence of his past + year's industry, had disappeared. He was now conscious for the first time + of the lowing of the few cattle he had kept as, huddled together on a + slight eminence, they one by one slipped over struggling into the flood. + The shining bodies of his dead horses rolled by him as he gazed. The + lower-lying limbs of the sycamore near him were bending with the burden of + the lighter articles from his overturned wagon and cabin which they had + caught and retained, and a rake was securely lodged in a bough. The + habitual solitude of his locality was now strangely invaded by drifting + sheds, agricultural implements, and fence rails from unknown and remote + neighbors, and he could faintly hear the far-off calling of some unhappy + farmer adrift upon a spar of his wrecked and shattered house. When day + broke he was cold and hungry. + </p> + <p> + Hours passed in hopeless monotony, with no slackening or diminution of the + waters. Even the drifts became less, and a vacant sea at last spread + before him on which nothing moved. An awful silence impressed him. In the + afternoon rain again began to fall on this gray, nebulous expanse, until + the whole world seemed made of aqueous vapor. He had but one idea now—the + coming of the evening boat, and he would reserve his strength to swim to + it. He did not know until later that it could no longer follow the old + channel of the river, and passed far beyond his sight and hearing. With + his disappointment and exposure that night came a return of his old fever. + His limbs were alternately racked with pain or benumbed and lifeless. He + could scarcely retain his position—at times he scarcely cared to—and + speculated upon ending his sufferings by a quick plunge downward. In other + moments of lucid misery he was conscious of having wandered in his mind; + of having seen the dead face of the murdered sheriff, washed out of his + shallow grave by the flood, staring at him from the water; to this was + added the hallucination of noises. He heard voices, his own name called by + a voice he knew—Captain Jack's! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he started, but in that fatal movement lost his balance and + plunged downward. But before the water closed above his head he had had a + cruel glimpse of help near him; of a flashing light—of the black + hull of a tug not many yards away—of moving figures—the + sensation of a sudden plunge following his own, the grip of a strong hand + upon his collar, and—unconsciousness! + </p> + <p> + When he came to he was being lifted in a boat from the tug and rowed + through the deserted streets of a large city, until he was taken in + through the second-story window of a half-submerged hotel and cared for. + But all his questions yielded only the information that the tug—a + privately procured one, not belonging to the Public Relief Association—had + been dispatched for him with special directions, by a man who acted as one + of the crew, and who was the one who had plunged in for him at the last + moment. The man had left the boat at Stockton. There was nothing more? + Yes!—he had left a letter. Morse seized it feverishly. It contained + only a few lines: + </p> + <p> + We are quits now. You are all right. I have saved YOU from drowning, and + shifted the curse to my own shoulders. Good-by. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN JACK. + </p> + <p> + The astounded man attempted to rise—to utter an exclamation—but + fell back, unconscious. + </p> + <p> + Weeks passed before he was able to leave his bed—and then only as an + impoverished and physically shattered man. He had no means to restock the + farm left bare by the subsiding water. A kindly train-packer offered him a + situation as muleteer in a pack train going to the mountains—for he + knew tracks and passes and could ride. The mountains gave him back a + little of the vigor he had lost in the river valley, but none of its + dreams and ambitions. One day, while tracking a lost mule, he stopped to + slake his thirst in a waterhole—all that the summer had left of a + lonely mountain torrent. Enlarging the hole to give drink to his beast + also, he was obliged to dislodge and throw out with the red soil some bits + of honeycomb rock, which were so queer-looking and so heavy as to attract + his attention. Two of the largest he took back to camp with him. They were + gold! From the locality he took out a fortune. Nobody wondered. To the + Californian's superstition it was perfectly natural. It was “nigger luck”—the + luck of the stupid, the ignorant, the inexperienced, the nonseeker—the + irony of the gods! + </p> + <p> + But the simple, bucolic nature that had sustained itself against + temptation with patient industry and lonely self-concentration succumbed + to rapidly acquired wealth. So it chanced that one day, with a crowd of + excitement-loving spendthrifts and companions, he found himself on the + outskirts of a lawless mountain town. An eager, frantic crowd had already + assembled there—a desperado was to be lynched! Pushing his way + through the crowd for a nearer view of the exciting spectacle, the changed + and reckless Morse was stopped by armed men only at the foot of a cart, + which upheld a quiet, determined man, who, with a rope around his neck, + was scornfully surveying the mob, that held the other end of the rope + drawn across the limb of a tree above him. The eyes of the doomed man + caught those of Morse—his expression changed—a kindly smile + lit his face—he bowed his proud head for the first time, with an + easy gesture of farewell. + </p> + <p> + And then, with a cry, Morse threw himself upon the nearest armed guard, + and a fierce struggle began. He had overpowered one adversary and seized + another in his hopeless fight toward the cart when the half-astonished + crowd felt that something must be done. It was done with a sharp report, + the upward curl of smoke and the falling back of the guard as Morse + staggered forward FREE—with a bullet in his heart. Yet even then he + did not fall until he reached the cart, when he lapsed forward, dead, with + his arms outstretched and his head at the doomed man's feet. + </p> + <p> + There was something so supreme and all-powerful in this hopeless act of + devotion that the heart of the multitude thrilled and then recoiled aghast + at its work, and a single word or a gesture from the doomed man himself + would have set him free. But they say—and it is credibly recorded—that + as Captain Jack Despard looked down upon the hopeless sacrifice at his + feet his eyes blazed, and he flung upon the crowd a curse so awful and + sweeping that, hardened as they were, their blood ran cold, and then + leaped furiously to their cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” he said, coolly tightening the rope around his neck with a jerk + of his head—“Go on, and be damned to you! I'm ready.” + </p> + <p> + They did not hesitate this time. And Martin Morse and Captain Jack Despard + were buried in the same grave. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A CONVERT OF THE MISSION + </h2> + <p> + The largest tent of the Tasajara camp meeting was crowded to its utmost + extent. The excitement of that dense mass was at its highest pitch. The + Reverend Stephen Masterton, the single erect, passionate figure of that + confused medley of kneeling worshipers, had reached the culminating pitch + of his irresistible exhortatory power. Sighs and groans were beginning to + respond to his appeals, when the reverend brother was seen to lurch + heavily forward and fall to the ground. + </p> + <p> + At first the effect was that of a part of his performance; the groans + redoubled, and twenty or thirty brethren threw themselves prostrate in + humble imitation of the preacher. But Sister Deborah Stokes, perhaps + through some special revelation of feminine intuition, grasped the fallen + man, tore loose his black silk necktie, and dragged him free of the + struggling, frantic crowd whose paroxysms he had just evoked. Howbeit he + was pale and unconscious, and unable to continue the service. Even the + next day, when he had slightly recovered, it was found that any attempt to + renew his fervid exhortations produced the same disastrous result. + </p> + <p> + A council was hurriedly held by the elders. In spite of the energetic + protests of Sister Stokes, it was held that the Lord “was wrestlin' with + his sperrit,” and he was subjected to the same extraordinary treatment + from the whole congregation that he himself had applied to THEM. Propped + up pale and trembling in the “Mourners' Bench” by two brethren, he was + “striven with,” exhorted, prayed over, and admonished, until insensibility + mercifully succeeded convulsions. Spiritual therapeutics having failed, he + was turned over to the weak and carnal nursing of “womenfolk.” But after a + month of incapacity he was obliged to yield to “the flesh,” and, in the + local dialect, “to use a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + It so chanced that the medical practitioner of the district was a man of + large experience, of military training, and plain speech. When, therefore, + he one day found in his surgery a man of rude Western type, strong-limbed + and sunburned, but trembling, hesitating and neurotic in movement, after + listening to his symptoms gravely, he asked, abruptly: “And how much are + you drinking now?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a lifelong abstainer,” stammered his patient in quivering + indignation. But this was followed by another question so frankly + appalling to the hearer that he staggered to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Stephen Masterton—known of men as a circuit preacher, of the + Northern California district,” he thundered—“and an enemy of the + flesh in all its forms.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” responded Dr. Duchesne, grimly, “but as you are + suffering from excessive and repeated excitation of the nervous system, + and the depression following prolonged artificial exaltation—it + makes little difference whether the cause be spiritual, as long as there + is a certain physical effect upon your BODY—which I believe you have + brought to me to cure. Now—as to diet? you look all wrong there. + </p> + <p> + “My food is of the simplest—I have no hankering for fleshpots,” + responded the patient. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you call saleratus bread and salt pork and flapjacks SIMPLE?” + said the doctor, coolly; “they are COMMON enough, and if you were working + with your muscles instead of your nerves in that frame of yours they might + not hurt you; but you are suffering as much from eating more than you can + digest as the veriest gourmand. You must stop all that. Go down to a quiet + watering-place for two months.” . . . + </p> + <p> + “I go to a watering-place?” interrupted Masterton; “to the haunt of the + idle, the frivolous and wanton—never!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm not particular about a 'watering-place,'” said the doctor, with + a shrug, “although a little idleness and frivolity with different food + wouldn't hurt you—but you must go somewhere and change your habits + and mode of life COMPLETELY. I will find you some sleepy old Spanish town + in the southern country where you can rest and diet. If this is + distasteful to you,” he continued, grimly, “you can always call it 'a + trial.'” + </p> + <p> + Stephen Masterton may have thought it so when, a week later, he found + himself issuing from a rocky gorge into a rough, badly paved, hilly + street, which seemed to be only a continuation of the mountain road + itself. It broadened suddenly into a square or plaza, flanked on each side + by an irregular row of yellowing adobe houses, with the inevitable + verandaed tienda in each corner, and the solitary, galleried fonda, with a + half-Moorish archway leading into an inner patio or courtyard in the + center. + </p> + <p> + The whole street stopped as usual at the very door of the Mission church, + a few hundred yards farther on, and under the shadow of the two belfry + towers at each angle of the facade, as if this were the ultima thule of + every traveler. But all that the eye rested on was ruined, worn, and + crumbling. The adobe houses were cracked by the incessant sunshine of the + half-year-long summer, or the more intermittent earthquake shock; the + paved courtyard of the fonda was so uneven and sunken in the center that + the lumbering wagon and faded diligencia stood on an incline, and the + mules with difficulty kept their footing while being unladen; the whitened + plaster had fallen from the feet of the two pillars that flanked the + Mission doorway, like bandages from a gouty limb, leaving the reddish core + of adobe visible; there were apparently as many broken tiles in the + streets and alleys as there were on the heavy red roofs that everywhere + asserted themselves—and even seemed to slide down the crumbling + walls to the ground. There were hopeless gaps in grille and grating of + doorways and windows, where the iron bars had dropped helplessly out, or + were bent at different angles. The walls of the peaceful Mission garden + and the warlike presidio were alike lost in the escalading vines or + leveled by the pushing boughs of gnarled pear and olive trees that now + surmounted them. The dust lay thick and impalpable in hollow and gutter, + and rose in little vapory clouds with a soft detonation at every stroke of + his horse's hoofs. Over all this dust and ruin, idleness seemed to reign + supreme. From the velvet-jacketed figures lounging motionless in the + shadows of the open doorways—so motionless that only the lazy drift + of cigarette smoke betokened their breathing—to the reclining peons + in the shade of a catalpa, or the squatting Indians in the arroyo—all + was sloth and dirt. + </p> + <p> + The Rev. Stephen Masterton felt his throat swell with his old exhortative + indignation. A gaudy yellow fan waved languidly in front of a black + rose-crested head at a white-curtained window. He knew he was stifling + with righteous wrath, and clapped his spurs to his horse. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, in a few days, by the aid of a letter to the innkeeper, he + was installed in a dilapidated adobe house, not unlike those he had seen, + but situated in the outskirts and overlooking the garden and part of the + refectory of the old Mission. It had even a small garden of its own—if + a strip of hot wall, overburdened with yellow and white roses, a dozen + straggling callas, a bank of heliotrope, and an almond tree could be + called a garden. It had an open doorway, but so heavily recessed in the + thick walls that it preserved seclusion, a sitting-room, and an alcoved + bedroom with deep embrasured windows that however excluded the unwinking + sunlight and kept an even monotone of shade. + </p> + <p> + Strange to say, he found it cool, restful, and, in spite of the dust, + absolutely clean, and, but for the scent of heliotrope, entirely + inodorous. The dry air seemed to dissipate all noxious emanations and + decay—the very dust itself in its fine impalpability was volatile + with a spicelike piquancy, and left no stain. + </p> + <p> + A wrinkled Indian woman, brown and veined like a tobacco leaf, ministered + to his simple wants. But these wants had also been regulated by Dr. + Duchesne. He found himself, with some grave doubts of his effeminacy, + breakfasting on a single cup of chocolate instead of his usual bowl of + molasses-sweetened coffee; crumbling a crisp tortilla instead of the heavy + saleratus bread, greasy flapjack, or the lard-fried steak, and, more + wonderful still, completing his repast with purple grapes from the Mission + wall. He could not deny that it was simple—that it was even + refreshing and consistent with the climate and his surroundings. On the + other hand, it was the frugal diet of the commonest peasant—and were + not those peons slothful idolaters? + </p> + <p> + At the end of the week—his correspondence being also restricted by + his doctor to a few lines to himself regarding his progress—he wrote + to that adviser: + </p> + <p> + “The trembling and unquiet has almost ceased; I have less nightly turmoil + and visions; my carnal appetite seems to be amply mollified and soothed by + these viands, whatever may be their ultimate effect upon the weakness of + our common sinful nature. But I should not be truthful to you if I did not + warn you that I am viewing with the deepest spiritual concern a decided + tendency toward sloth, and a folding of the hands over matters that often, + I fear, are spiritual as well as temporal. I would ask you to consider, in + a spirit of love, if it be not wise to rouse my apathetic flesh, so as to + strive, even with the feeblest exhortations, against this sloth in others—if + only to keep one's self from falling into the pit of easy indulgence.” + </p> + <p> + What answer he received is not known, but it is to be presumed that he + kept loyal faith with his physician, and gave himself up to simple walks + and rides and occasional meditation. His solitude was not broken in upon; + curiosity was too active a vice, and induced too much exertion for his + indolent neighbors, and the Americano's basking seclusion, though unlike + the habits of his countrymen, did not affect them. The shopkeeper and + innkeeper saluted him always with a profound courtesy which awakened his + slight resentment, partly because he was conscious that it was grateful to + him, and partly that he felt he ought to have provoked in them a less + satisfied condition. + </p> + <p> + Once, when he had unwittingly passed the confines of his own garden, + through a gap in the Mission orchard, a lissome, black-coated shadow + slipped past him with an obeisance so profound and gentle that he was + startled at first into an awkward imitation of it himself, and then into + an angry self-examination. He knew that he loathed that long-skirted, + womanlike garment, that dangling, ostentatious symbol, that air of secrecy + and mystery, and he inflated his chest above his loosely tied cravat and + unbuttoned waistcoat with a contrasted sense of freedom. But he was + conscious the next day of weakly avoiding a recurrence of this meeting, + and in his self-examination put it down to his self-disciplined observance + of his doctor's orders. But when he was strong again, and fitted for his + Master's work, how strenuously he should improve the occasion this gave + him of attacking the Scarlet Woman among her slaves and worshipers! + </p> + <p> + His afternoon meditations and the perusal of his only book—the Bible—were + regularly broken in upon at about sunset by two or three strokes from the + cracked bell that hung in the open belfry which reared itself beyond the + gnarled pear tees. He could not say that it was aggressive or persistent, + like his own church bells, nor that it even expressed to him any religious + sentiment. Moreover, it was not a “Sabbath” bell, but a DAILY one, and + even then seemed to be only a signal to ears easily responsive, rather + than a stern reminder. And the hour was always a singularly witching one. + </p> + <p> + It was when the sun had slipped from the glaring red roofs, and the + yellowing adobe of the Mission walls and the tall ranks of wild oats on + the hillside were all of the one color of old gold. It was when the + quivering heat of the arroyo and dusty expanse of plaza was blending with + the soft breath of the sea fog that crept through the clefts of the coast + range, until a refreshing balm seemed to fall like a benediction on all + nature. It was when the trade-wind-swept and irritated surfaces of the + rocky gorge beyond were soothed with clinging vapors; when the pines above + no longer rocked monotonously, and the great undulating sea of the + wild-oat plains had gone down and was at rest. It was at this hour, one + afternoon, that, with the released scents of the garden, there came to him + a strange and subtle perfume that was new to his senses. He laid aside his + book, went into the garden, and, half-unconscious of his trespass, passed + through the Mission orchard and thence into the little churchyard beside + the church. + </p> + <p> + Looking at the strange inscriptions in an unfamiliar tongue, he was + singularly touched with the few cheap memorials lying upon the graves—like + childish toys—and for the moment overlooked the papistic emblems + that accompanied them. It struck him vaguely that Death, the common + leveler, had made even the symbols of a faith eternal inferior to those + simple records of undying memory and affection, and he was for a moment + startled into doubt. + </p> + <p> + He walked to the door of the church; to his surprise it was open. Standing + upon the threshold, he glanced inside, and stood for a moment utterly + bewildered. In a man of refined taste and education that bizarre and + highly colored interior would have only provoked a smile or shrug; to + Stephen Masterton's highly emotional nature, but artistic inexperience, + strangely enough it was profoundly impressive. The heavily timbered, + roughly hewn roof, barred with alternate bands of blue and Indian red, the + crimson hangings, the gold and black draperies, affected this religious + backwoodsman exactly as they were designed to affect the heathen and + acolytes for whose conversion the temple had been reared. He could + scarcely take his eyes from the tinsel-crowned Mother of Heaven, + resplendent in white and gold and glittering with jewels; the radiant + shield before the Host, illuminated by tall spectral candles in the + mysterious obscurity of the altar, dazzled him like the rayed disk of the + setting sun. + </p> + <p> + A gentle murmur, as of the distant sea, came from the altar. In his naive + bewilderment he had not seen the few kneeling figures in the shadow of + column and aisle; it was not until a man, whom he recognized as a muleteer + he had seen that afternoon gambling and drinking in the fonda, slipped by + him like a shadow and sank upon his knees in the center of the aisle that + he realized the overpowering truth. + </p> + <p> + HE, Stephen Masterton, was looking upon some rite of Popish idolatry! He + was turning quickly away when the keeper of the tienda—a man of + sloth and sin—gently approached him from the shadow of a column with + a mute gesture, which he took to be one of invitation. A fierce protest of + scorn and indignation swelled to his throat, but died upon his lips. Yet + he had strength enough to erect his gaunt emaciated figure, throwing out + his long arms and extended palms in the attitude of defiant exorcism, and + then rush swiftly from the church. As he did so he thought he saw a faint + smile cross the shopkeeper's face, and a whispered exchange of words with + a neighboring worshiper of more exalted appearance came to his ears. But + it was not intelligible to his comprehension. + </p> + <p> + The next day he wrote to his doctor in that quaint grandiloquence of + written speech with which the half-educated man balances the slips of his + colloquial phrasing: + </p> + <p> + Do not let the purgation of my flesh be unduly protracted. What with the + sloth and idolatries of Baal and Ashteroth, which I see daily around me, I + feel that without a protest not only the flesh but the spirit is + mortified. But my bodily strength is mercifully returning, and I found + myself yesterday able to take a long ride at that hour which they here + keep sacred for an idolatrous rite, under the beautiful name of “The + Angelus.” Thus do they bear false witness to Him! Can you tell me the + meaning of the Spanish words “Don Keyhotter”? I am ignorant of these + sensuous Southern languages, and am aware that this is not the correct + spelling, but I have striven to give the phonetic equivalent. It was used, + I am inclined to think, in reference to MYSELF, by an idolater. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—You need not trouble yourself. I have just ascertained that the + words in question were simply the title of an idle novel, and, of course, + could not possibly refer to ME. + </p> + <p> + Howbeit it was as “Don Quixote”—that is, the common Spaniard's + conception of the Knight of La Mancha, merely the simple fanatic and + madman—that Mr. Stephen Masterton ever after rode all unconsciously + through the streets of the Mission, amid the half-pitying, half-smiling + glances of the people. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his meditations, his single volume, and his habit of retiring + early, he found his evenings were growing lonely and tedious. He missed + the prayer meeting, and, above all, the hymns. He had a fine baritone + voice, sympathetic, as may be imagined, but not cultivated. One night, in + the seclusion of his garden, and secure in his distance from other + dwellings, he raised his voice in a familiar camp-meeting hymn with a + strong Covenanter's ring in the chorus. Growing bolder as he went on, he + at last filled the quiet night with the strenuous sweep of his chant. + Surprised at his own fervor, he paused for a moment, listening, half + frightened, half ashamed of his outbreak. But there was only the trilling + of the night wind in the leaves, or the far-off yelp of a coyote. + </p> + <p> + For a moment he thought he heard the metallic twang of a stringed + instrument in the Mission garden beyond his own, and remembered his + contiguity to the church with a stir of defiance. But he was relieved, + nevertheless. His pent-up emotion had found vent, and without the nervous + excitement that had followed his old exaltation. That night he slept + better. He had found the Lord again—with Psalmody! + </p> + <p> + The next evening he chanced upon a softer hymn of the same simplicity, but + with a vein of human tenderness in its aspirations, which his more hopeful + mood gently rendered. At the conclusion of the first verse he was, + however, distinctly conscious of being followed by the same twanging sound + he had heard on the previous night, and which even his untutored ear could + recognize as an attempt to accompany him. But before he had finished the + second verse the unknown player, after an ingenious but ineffectual essay + to grasp the right chord, abandoned it with an impatient and almost + pettish flourish, and a loud bang upon the sounding-board of the unseen + instrument. Masterton finished it alone. + </p> + <p> + With his curiosity excited, however, he tried to discover the locality of + the hidden player. The sound evidently came from the Mission garden; but + in his ignorance of the language he could not even interrogate his Indian + housekeeper. On the third night, however, his hymn was uninterrupted by + any sound from the former musician. A sense of disappointment, he knew not + why, came over him. The kindly overture of the unseen player had been a + relief to his loneliness. Yet he had barely concluded the hymn when the + familiar sound again struck his ears. But this time the musician played + boldly, confidently, and with a singular skill on the instrument. + </p> + <p> + The brilliant prelude over, to his entire surprise and some confusion, a + soprano voice, high, childish, but infinitely quaint and fascinating, was + mischievously uplifted. But alas! even to his ears, ignorant of the + language, it was very clearly a song of levity and wantonness, of freedom + and license, of coquetry and incitement! Yet such was its fascination that + he fancied it was reclaimed by the delightful childlike and innocent + expression of the singer. + </p> + <p> + Enough that this tall, gaunt, broad-shouldered man arose and, overcome by + a curiosity almost as childlike, slipped into the garden and glided with + an Indian softness of tread toward the voice. The moon shone full upon the + ruined Mission wall tipped with clusters of dark foliage. Half hiding, + half mingling with one of them—an indistinct bulk of light-colored + huddled fleeces like an extravagant bird's nest—hung the unknown + musician. So intent was the performer's preoccupation that Masterton + actually reached the base of the wall immediately below the figure without + attracting its attention. But his foot slipped on the crumbling debris + with a snapping of dry twigs. There was a quick little cry from above. He + had barely time to recover his position before the singer, impulsively + leaning over the parapet, had lost hers, and fell outward. But Masterton + was tall, alert, and self-possessed, and threw out his long arms. The next + moment they were full of soft flounces, a struggling figure was against + his breast, and a woman's frightened little hands around his neck. But he + had broken her fall, and almost instantly, yet with infinite gentleness, + he released her unharmed, with hardly her crisp flounces crumpled, in an + upright position against the wall. Even her guitar, still hanging from her + shoulder by a yellow ribbon, had bounded elastic and resounding against + the wall, but lay intact at her satin-slippered feet. She caught it up + with another quick little cry, but this time more of sauciness than fear, + and drew her little hand across its strings, half defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are not hurt?” said the circuit preacher, gravely. + </p> + <p> + She broke into a laugh so silvery that he thought it no extravagance to + liken it to the moonbeams that played over her made audible. She was + lithe, yet plump; barred with black and yellow and small-waisted like a + pretty wasp. Her complexion in that light was a sheen of pearl satin that + made her eyes blacker and her little mouth redder than any other color + could. She was small, but, remembering the fourteen-year-old wife of the + shopkeeper, he felt that, for all her childish voice and features, she was + a grown woman, and a sudden shyness took hold of him. + </p> + <p> + But she looked pertly in his face, stood her guitar upright before her, + and put her hands behind her back as she leaned saucily against the wall + and shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “It was the fault of you,” she said, in a broken English that seemed as + much infantine as foreign. “What for you not remain to yourself in your + own CASA? So it come. You creep so—in the dark—and shake my + wall, and I fall. And she,” pointing to the guitar, “is a'most broke! And + for all thees I have only make to you a serenade. Ingrate!” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Masterton quickly, “but I was curious. I thought + I might help you, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Make yourself another cat on the wall, eh? No; one is enough, thank you!” + </p> + <p> + A frown lowered on Masterton's brow. “You don't understand me,” he said, + bluntly. “I did not know WHO was here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, BUENO! Then it is Pepita Ramirez, you see,” she said, tapping her + bodice with one little finger, “all the same; the niece from Manuel + Garcia, who keeps the Mission garden and lif there. And you?” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Masterton.” + </p> + <p> + “How mooch?” + </p> + <p> + “Masterton,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + She tried to pronounce it once or twice desperately, and then shook her + little head so violently that a yellow rose fastened over her ear fell to + the ground. But she did not heed it, nor the fact that Masterton had + picked it up. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I cannot!” she said, poutingly. “It is as deefeecult to make go as my + guitar with your serenade.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you not say 'Stephen Masterton'?” he asked, more gently, with a + returning and forgiving sense of her childishness. + </p> + <p> + “Es-stefen? Ah, ESTEBAN! Yes; Don Esteban! BUENO! Then, Don Esteban, what + for you sink so melank-olly one night, and one night so fierce? The + melank-olly, he ees not so bad; but the fierce—ah! he is weeked! Ess + it how the Americano make always his serenade?” + </p> + <p> + Masterton's brow again darkened. And his hymn of exultation had been + mistaken by these people—by this—this wanton child! + </p> + <p> + “It was no serenade,” he replied, curtly; “it was in the praise of the + Lord!” + </p> + <p> + “Of how mooch?” + </p> + <p> + “Of the Lord of Hosts—of the Almighty in Heaven.” He lifted his long + arms reverently on high. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she said, with a frightened look, slightly edging away from the + wall. At a secure distance she stopped. “Then you are a soldier, Don + Esteban?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “Then what for you sink 'I am a soldier of the Lord,' and you will make + die 'in His army'? Oh, yes; you have said.” She gathered up her guitar + tightly under her arm, shook her small finger at him gravely, and said, + “You are a hoombog, Don Esteban; good a' night,” and began to glide away. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Miss—Miss Ramirez,” called Masterton. “I—that is + you—you have—forgotten your rose,” he added, feebly, holding + up the flower. She halted. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes; he have drop, you have pick him up, he is yours. I have drop, + you have pick ME up, but I am NOT yours. Good a' night, COMANDANTE Don + Esteban!” + </p> + <p> + With a light laugh she ran along beside the wall for a little distance, + suddenly leaped up and disappeared in one of the largest gaps in its + ruined and helpless structure. Stephen Masterton gazed after her stupidly, + still holding the rose in his hand. Then he threw it away and re-entered + his home. + </p> + <p> + Lighting his candle, he undressed himself, prayed fervently—so + fervently that all remembrance of the idle, foolish incident was wiped + from his mind, and went to bed. He slept well and dreamlessly. The next + morning, when his thoughts recurred to the previous night, this seemed to + him a token that he had not deviated from his spiritual integrity; it did + not occur to him that the thought itself was a tacit suspicion. + </p> + <p> + So his feet quite easily sought the garden again in the early sunshine, + even to the wall where she had stood. But he had not taken into account + the vivifying freshness of the morning, the renewed promise of life and + resurrection in the pulsing air and potent sunlight, and as he stood there + he seemed to see the figure of the young girl again leaning against the + wall in all the charm of her irrepressible and innocent youth. More than + that, he found the whole scene re-enacting itself before him; the nebulous + drapery half hidden in the foliage, the cry and the fall; the momentary + soft contact of the girl's figure against his own, the clinging arms + around his neck, the brush and fragrance of her flounces—all this + came back to him with a strength he had NOT felt when it occurred. + </p> + <p> + He was turning hurriedly away when his eyes fell upon the yellow rose + still lying in the debris where he had thrown it—but still pure, + fresh, and unfaded. He picked it up again, with a singular fancy that it + was the girl herself, and carried it into the house. + </p> + <p> + As he placed it half shyly in a glass on his table a wonderful thought + occurred to him. Was not the episode of last night a special providence? + Was not that young girl, wayward and childlike, a mere neophyte in her + idolatrous religion, as yet unsteeped in sloth and ignorance, presented to + him as a brand to be snatched from the burning? Was not this the + opportunity of conversion he had longed for—this the chance of + exercising his gifts of exhortation that he had been hiding in the napkin + of solitude and seclusion? Nay, was not all this PREDESTINED? His illness, + his consequent exile to this land of false gods—this contiguity to + the Mission—was not all this part of a supremely ordered plan for + the girl's salvation—and was HE not elected and ordained for that + service? Nay, more, was not the girl herself a mere unconscious instrument + in the hands of a higher power; was not her voluntary attempt to accompany + him in his devotional exercise a vague stirring of that predestined force + within her? Was not even that wantonness and frivolity contrasted with her + childishness—which he had at first misunderstood—the stirrings + of the flesh and the spirit, and was he to abandon her in that struggle of + good and evil? + </p> + <p> + He lifted his bowed head, that had been resting on his arm before the + little flower on the table—as if it were a shrine—with a flash + of resolve in his blue eyes. The wrinkled Concepcion coming to her duties + in the morning scarcely recognized her gloomily abstracted master in this + transfigured man. He looked ten years younger. + </p> + <p> + She met his greeting, and the few direct inquiries that his new resolve + enabled him to make more freely, with some information—which a later + talk with the shopkeeper, who had a fuller English vocabulary, confirmed + in detail. + </p> + <p> + “YES! truly this was a niece of the Mission gardener, who lived with her + uncle in the ruined wing of the presidio. She had taken her first + communion four years ago. Ah, yes, she was a great musician, and could + play on the organ. And the guitar, ah, yes—of a certainty. She was + gay, and flirted with the caballeros, young and old, but she cared not for + any.” + </p> + <p> + Whatever satisfaction this latter statement gave Masterton, he believed it + was because the absence of any disturbing worldly affection would make her + an easier convert. + </p> + <p> + But how continue this chance acquaintance and effect her conversion? For + the first time Masterton realized the value of expediency; while his whole + nature impelled him to seek her society frankly and publicly and exhort + her openly, he knew that this was impossible; still more, he remembered + her unmistakable fright at his first expression of faith; he must “be wise + as the serpent and harmless as the dove.” He must work upon her soul + alone, and secretly. He, who would have shrunk from any clandestine + association with a girl from mere human affection, saw no wrong in a + covert intimacy for the purpose of religious salvation. Ignorant as he was + of the ways of the world, and inexperienced in the usages of society, he + began to plan methods of secretly meeting her with all the intrigue of a + gallant. The perspicacity as well as the intuition of a true lover had + descended upon him in this effort of mere spiritual conquest. + </p> + <p> + Armed with his information and a few Spanish words, he took the yellow + Concepcion aside and gravely suborned her to carry a note to be delivered + secretly to Miss Ramirez. To his great relief and some surprise the old + woman grinned with intelligence, and her withered hand closed with a + certain familiar dexterity over the epistle and the accompanying gratuity. + To a man less naively one-ideaed it might have awakened some suspicion; + but to the more sanguine hopefulness of Masterton it only suggested the + fancy that Concepcion herself might prove to be open to conversion, and + that he should in due season attempt HER salvation also. But that would be + later. For Concepcion was always with him and accessible; the girl was + not. + </p> + <p> + The note, which had cost him some labor of composition, simple and almost + businesslike as was the result, ran as follows: + </p> + <p> + “I wish to see you upon some matter of grave concern to yourself. Will you + oblige me by coming again to the wall of the Mission tonight at early + candlelight? It would avert worldly suspicion if you brought also your + guitar.” + </p> + <p> + The afternoon dragged slowly on; Concepcion returned; she had, with great + difficulty, managed to see the senorita, but not alone; she had, however, + slipped the note into her hand, not daring to wait for an answer. + </p> + <p> + In his first hopefulness Masterton did not doubt what the answer would be, + but as evening approached he grew concerned as to the girl's opportunities + of coming, and regretted that he had not given her a choice of time. + </p> + <p> + Before his evening meal was finished he began to fear for her willingness, + and doubt the potency of his note. He was accustomed to exhort ORALLY—perhaps + he ought to have waited for the chance of SPEAKING to her directly without + writing. + </p> + <p> + When the moon rose he was already in the garden. Lingering at first in the + shadow of an olive tree, he waited until the moonbeams fell on the wall + and its crests of foliage. But nothing moved among that ebony tracery; his + ear was strained for the familiar tinkle of the guitar—all was + silent. As the moon rose higher he at last boldly walked to the wall, and + listened for any movement on the other side of it. But nothing stirred. + She was evidently NOT coming—his note had failed. + </p> + <p> + He was turning away sadly, but as he faced his home again he heard a light + laugh beside him. He stopped. A black shadow stepped out from beneath his + own almond tree. He started when, with a gesture that seemed familiar to + him, the upper part of the shadow seemed to fall away with a long black + mantilla and the face of the young girl was revealed. + </p> + <p> + He could see now that she was clad in black lace from head to foot. She + looked taller, older, and he fancied even prettier than before. A sudden + doubt of his ability to impress her, a swift realization of all the + difficulties of the attempt, and, for the first time perhaps, a dim + perception of the incongruity of the situation came over him. + </p> + <p> + “I was looking for you on the wall,” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “MADRE DE DIOS!” she retorted, with a laugh and her old audacity, “you + would that I shall ALWAYS hang there, and drop upon you like a pear when + you shake the tree? No!” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't brought your guitar,” he continued, still more awkwardly, as + he noticed that she held only a long black fan in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “For why? You would that I PLAY it, and when my uncle say 'Where go + Pepita? She is loss,' someone shall say, 'Oh! I have hear her tink-a-tink + in the garden of the Americano, who lif alone.' And then—it ess + finish!” + </p> + <p> + Masterton began to feel exceedingly uncomfortable. There was something in + this situation that he had not dreamed of. But with the persistency of an + awkward man he went on. + </p> + <p> + “But you played on the wall the other night, and tried to accompany me.” + </p> + <p> + “But that was lass night and on the wall. I had not speak to you, you had + not speak to me. You had not sent me the leetle note by your peon.” She + stopped, and suddenly opening her fan before her face, so that only her + mischievous eyes were visible, added: “You had not asked me then to come + to hear you make lof to me, Don Esteban. That is the difference.” + </p> + <p> + The circuit preacher felt the blood rush to his face. Anger, shame, + mortification, remorse, and fear alternately strove with him, but above + all and through all he was conscious of a sharp, exquisite pleasure—that + frightened him still more. Yet he managed to exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “No! no! You cannot think me capable of such a cowardly trick?” + </p> + <p> + The girl started, more at the unmistakable sincerity of his utterance than + at the words, whose full meaning she may have only imperfectly caught. + </p> + <p> + “A treek? A treek?” she slowly and wonderingly repeated. Then suddenly, as + if comprehending him, she turned her round black eyes full upon him and + dropped her fan from her face. + </p> + <p> + “And WHAT for you ask me to come here then?” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to talk with you,” he began, “on far more serious matters. I + wished to—” but he stopped. He could not address this quaint + child-woman staring at him in black-eyed wonder, in either the measured or + the impetuous terms with which he would have exhorted a maturer + responsible being. He made a step toward her; she drew back, striking at + his extended hand half impatiently, half mischievously with her fan. + </p> + <p> + He flushed—and then burst out bluntly, “I want to talk with you + about your soul.” + </p> + <p> + “My what?” + </p> + <p> + “Your immortal soul, unhappy girl.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you to make with that? Are you a devil?” Her eyes grew rounder, + though she faced him boldly. + </p> + <p> + “I am a Minister of the Gospel,” he said, in hurried entreaty. “You must + hear me for a moment. I would save your soul.” + </p> + <p> + “My immortal soul lif with the Padre at the Mission—you moost seek + her there! My mortal BODY,” she added, with a mischievous smile, “say to + you, 'good a' night, Don Esteban.'” She dropped him a little curtsy and—ran + away. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Miss Ramirez,” said Masterton, eagerly; but she had already + slipped beyond his reach. He saw her little black figure passing swiftly + beside the moonlit wall, saw it suddenly slide into a shadowy fissure, and + vanish. + </p> + <p> + In his blank disappointment he could not bear to re-enter the house he had + left so sanguinely a few moments before, but walked moodily in the garden. + His discomfiture was the more complete since he felt that his defeat was + owing to some mistake in his methods, and not the incorrigibility of his + subject. + </p> + <p> + Was it not a spiritual weakness in him to have resented so sharply the + girl's imputation that he wished to make love to her? He should have borne + it as Christians had even before now borne slander and false testimony for + their faith! He might even have ACCEPTED it, and let the triumph of her + conversion in the end prove his innocence. Or was his purpose incompatible + with that sisterly affection he had so often preached to the women of his + flock? He might have taken her hand, and called her “Sister Pepita,” even + as he had called Deborah “Sister.” He recalled the fact that he had for an + instant held her struggling in his arms: he remembered the thrill that the + recollection had caused him, and somehow it now sent a burning blush + across his face. He hurried back into the house. + </p> + <p> + The next day a thousand wild ideas took the place of his former settled + resolution. He would seek the Padre, this custodian of the young girl's + soul; he would convince HIM of his error, or beseech him to give him an + equal access to her spirit! He would seek the uncle of the girl, and work + upon his feelings. + </p> + <p> + Then for three or four days he resolved to put the young girl from his + mind, trusting after the fashion of his kind for some special revelation + from a supreme source as an indication for his conduct. This revelation + presently occurred, as it is apt to occur when wanted. + </p> + <p> + One evening his heart leaped at the familiar sound of Pepita's guitar in + the distance. Whatever his ultimate intention now, he hurriedly ran into + the garden. The sound came from the former direction, but as he + unhesitatingly approached the Mission wall, he could see that she was not + upon it, and as the notes of her guitar were struck again, he knew that + they came from the other side. But the chords were a prelude to one of his + own hymns, and he stood entranced as her sweet, childlike voice rose with + the very words that he had sung. The few defects were those of purely oral + imitation, the accents, even the slight reiteration of the “s,” were + Pepita's own: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cheeldren oof the Heavenly King, + As ye journey essweetly ssing; + Essing your great Redeemer's praise, + Glorioos in Hees works and ways. +</pre> + <p> + He was astounded. Her recollection of the air and words was the more + wonderful, for he remembered now that he had only sung that particular + hymn once. But to his still greater delight and surprise, her voice rose + again in the second verse, with a touch of plaintiveness that swelled his + throat: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + We are traveling home to God, + In the way our farzers trod, + They are happy now, and we + Soon their happiness shall see. +</pre> + <p> + The simple, almost childish words—so childish that they might have + been the fitting creation of her own childish lips—here died away + with a sweep and crash of the whole strings. Breathless silence followed, + in which Stephen Masterton could feel the beatings of his own heart. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Ramirez,” he called, in a voice that scarcely seemed his own. There + was no reply. “Pepita!” he repeated; it was strangely like the accent of a + lover, but he no longer cared. Still the singer's voice was silent. + </p> + <p> + Then he ran swiftly beside the wall, as he had seen her run, until he came + to the fissure. It was overgrown with vines and brambles almost as + impenetrable as an abatis, but if she had pierced it in her delicate crape + dress, so could he! He brushed roughly through, and found himself in a + glimmering aisle of pear trees close by the white wall of the Mission + church. + </p> + <p> + For a moment in that intricate tracing of ebony and ivory made by the + rising moon, he was dazzled, but evidently his irruption into the orchard + had not been as lithe and silent as her own, for a figure in a + parti-colored dress suddenly started into activity, and running from the + wall, began to course through the trees until it became apparently a part + of that involved pattern. Nothing daunted, however, Stephen Masterton + pursued, his speed increased as he recognized the flounces of Pepita's + barred dress, but the young girl had the advantage of knowing the + locality, and could evade her pursuer by unsuspected turns and doubles. + </p> + <p> + For some moments this fanciful sylvan chase was kept up in perfect + silence; it might have been a woodland nymph pursued by a wandering + shepherd. Masterton presently saw that she was making toward a tiled roof + that was now visible as projecting over the presidio wall, and was + evidently her goal of refuge. He redoubled his speed; with skillful + audacity and sheer strength of his broad shoulders he broke through a + dense ceanothus hedge which Pepita was swiftly skirting, and suddenly + appeared between her and her house. + </p> + <p> + With her first cry, the young girl turned and tried to bury herself in the + hedge; but in another stride the circuit preacher was at her side, and + caught her panting figure in his arms. + </p> + <p> + While he had been running he had swiftly formulated what he should do and + what he should say to her. To his simple appeal for her companionship and + willing ear he would add a brotherly tenderness, that should invite her + trustfulness in him; he would confess his wrong and ask her forgiveness of + his abrupt solicitations; he would propose to teach her more hymns, they + would practice psalmody together; even this priest, the custodian of her + soul, could not object to that; but chiefly he would thank her: he would + tell her how she had pleased him, and this would lead to more serious and + thoughtful converse. All this was in his mind while he ran, was upon his + lips as he caught her and for an instant she lapsed, exhausted, in his + arms. But, alas! even in that moment he suddenly drew her toward him, and + kissed her as only a lover could! + </p> + <p> + The wire grass was already yellowing on the Tasajara plains with the dusty + decay of the long, dry summer when Dr. Duchesne returned to Tasajara. He + came to see the wife of Deacon Sanderson, who, having for the twelfth time + added to the population of the settlement, was not “doing as well” as + everybody—except, possibly, Dr. Duchesne—expected. After he + had made this hollow-eyed, over-burdened, undernourished woman as + comfortable as he could in her rude, neglected surroundings, to change the + dreary chronicle of suffering, he turned to the husband, and said, “And + what has become of Mr. Masterton, who used to be in your—vocation?” + A long groan came from the deacon. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! I hope he has not had a relapse,” said the doctor, earnestly. “I + thought I'd knocked all that nonsense out of him—I beg your pardon—I + mean,” he added, hurriedly, “he wrote to me only a few weeks ago that he + was picking up his strength again and doing well!” + </p> + <p> + “In his weak, gross, sinful flesh—yes, no doubt,” returned the + Deacon, scornfully, “and, perhaps, even in a worldly sense, for those who + value the vanities of life; but he is lost to us, for all time, and lost + to eternal life forever. Not,” he continued in sanctimonious + vindictiveness, “but that I often had my doubts of Brother Masterton's + steadfastness. He was too much given to imagery and song.” + </p> + <p> + “But what has he done?” persisted Dr. Duchesne. + </p> + <p> + “Done! He has embraced the Scarlet Woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” said the doctor, “so soon? Is it anybody you knew here?—not + anybody's wife? Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “He has entered the Church of Rome,” said the Deacon, indignantly, “he has + forsaken the God of his fathers for the tents of the idolaters; he is the + consort of Papists and the slave of the Pope!” + </p> + <p> + “But are you SURE?” said Dr. Duchesne, with perhaps less concern than + before. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” returned the Deacon angrily, “didn't Brother Bulkley, on account + of warning reports made by a God-fearing and soul-seeking teamster, make a + special pilgrimage to this land of Sodom to inquire and spy out its + wickedness? Didn't he find Stephen Masterton steeped in the iniquity of + practicing on an organ—he that scorned even a violin or harmonium in + the tents of the Lord—in an idolatrous chapel, with a foreign female + Papist for a teacher? Didn't he find him a guest at the board of a Jesuit + priest, visiting the schools of the Mission where this young Jezebel of a + singer teaches the children to chant in unknown tongues? Didn't he find + him living with a wrinkled Indian witch who called him 'Padrone'—and + speaking her gibberish? Didn't he find him, who left here a man mortified + in flesh and spirit and pale with striving with sinners, fat and rosy from + native wines and fleshpots, and even vain and gaudy in colored apparel? + And last of all, didn't Brother Bulkley hear that a rumor was spread far + and wide that this miserable backslider was to take to himself a wife—in + one of these strange women—that very Jezebel who seduced him? What + do you call that?” + </p> + <p> + “It looks a good deal like human nature,” said the doctor, musingly, “but + I call it a cure!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE INDISCRETION OF ELSBETH + </h2> + <p> + The American paused. He had evidently lost his way. For the last half hour + he had been wandering in a medieval town, in a profound medieval dream. + Only a few days had elapsed since he had left the steamship that carried + him hither; and the accents of his own tongue, the idioms of his own + people, and the sympathetic community of New World tastes and expressions + still filled his mind until he woke up, or rather, as it seemed to him, + was falling asleep in the past of this Old World town which had once held + his ancestors. Although a republican, he had liked to think of them in + quaint distinctive garb, representing state and importance—perhaps + even aristocratic pre-eminence—content to let the responsibility of + such “bad eminence” rest with them entirely, but a habit of + conscientiousness and love for historic truth eventually led him also to + regard an honest BAUER standing beside his cattle in the quaint market + place, or a kindly-faced black-eyed DIENSTMADCHEN in a doorway, with a + timid, respectful interest, as a possible type of his progenitors. For, + unlike some of his traveling countrymen in Europe, he was not a snob, and + it struck him—as an American—that it was, perhaps, better to + think of his race as having improved than as having degenerated. In these + ingenuous meditations he had passed the long rows of quaint, high houses, + whose sagging roofs and unpatched dilapidations were yet far removed from + squalor, until he had reached the road bordered by poplars, all so unlike + his own country's waysides—and knew that he had wandered far from + his hotel. + </p> + <p> + He did not care, however, to retrace his steps and return by the way he + had come. There was, he reasoned, some other street or turning that would + eventually bring him to the market place and his hotel, and yet extend his + experience of the town. He turned at right angles into a narrow grass + lane, which was, however, as neatly kept and apparently as public as the + highway. A few moments' walking convinced him that it was not a + thoroughfare and that it led to the open gates of a park. This had + something of a public look, which suggested that his intrusion might be at + least a pardonable trespass, and he relied, like most strangers, on the + exonerating quality of a stranger's ignorance. The park lay in the + direction he wished to go, and yet it struck him as singular that a park + of such extent should be still allowed to occupy such valuable urban + space. Indeed, its length seemed to be illimitable as he wandered on, + until he became conscious that he must have again lost his way, and he + diverged toward the only boundary, a high, thickset hedge to the right, + whose line he had been following. + </p> + <p> + As he neared it he heard the sound of voices on the other side, speaking + in German, with which he was unfamiliar. Having, as yet, met no one, and + being now impressed with the fact that for a public place the park was + singularly deserted, he was conscious that his position was getting + serious, and he determined to take this only chance of inquiring his way. + The hedge was thinner in some places than in others, and at times he could + see not only the light through it but even the moving figures of the + speakers, and the occasional white flash of a summer gown. At last he + determined to penetrate it, and with little difficulty emerged on the + other side. But here he paused motionless. He found himself behind a + somewhat formal and symmetrical group of figures with their backs toward + him, but all stiffened into attitudes as motionless as his own, and all + gazing with a monotonous intensity in the direction of a handsome + building, which had been invisible above the hedge but which now seemed to + arise suddenly before him. Some of the figures were in uniform. + Immediately before him, but so slightly separated from the others that he + was enabled to see the house between her and her companions, he was + confronted by the pretty back, shoulders, and blond braids of a young girl + of twenty. Convinced that he had unwittingly intruded upon some august + ceremonial, he instantly slipped back into the hedge, but so silently that + his momentary presence was evidently undetected. When he regained the park + side he glanced back through the interstices; there was no movement of the + figures nor break in the silence to indicate that his intrusion had been + observed. With a long breath of relief he hurried from the park. + </p> + <p> + It was late when he finally got back to his hotel. But his little modern + adventure had, I fear, quite outrun his previous medieval reflections, and + almost his first inquiry of the silver-chained porter in the courtyard was + in regard to the park. There was no public park in Alstadt! The Herr + possibly alluded to the Hof Gardens—the Schloss, which was in the + direction he indicated. The Schloss was the residency of the hereditary + Grand Duke. JA WOHL! He was stopping there with several Hoheiten. There + was naturally a party there—a family reunion. But it was a private + enclosure. At times, when the Grand Duke was “not in residence,” it was + open to the public. In point of fact, at such times tickets of admission + were to be had at the hotel for fifty pfennige each. There was not, of + truth, much to see except a model farm and dairy—the pretty toy of a + previous Grand Duchess. + </p> + <p> + But he seemed destined to come into closer collision with the modern life + of Alstadt. On entering the hotel, wearied by his long walk, he passed the + landlord and a man in half-military uniform on the landing near his room. + As he entered his apartment he had a vague impression, without exactly + knowing why, that the landlord and the military stranger had just left it. + This feeling was deepened by the evident disarrangement of certain + articles in his unlocked portmanteau and the disorganization of his + writing case. A wave of indignation passed over him. It was followed by a + knock at the door, and the landlord blandly appeared with the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pardons,” said the former, smilingly, “but Herr Sanderman, the + Ober-Inspector of Police, wishes to speak with you. I hope we are not + intruding?” + </p> + <p> + “Not NOW,” said the American, dryly. + </p> + <p> + The two exchanged a vacant and deprecating smile. + </p> + <p> + “I have to ask only a few formal questions,” said the Ober-Inspector in + excellent but somewhat precise English, “to supplement the report which, + as a stranger, you may not know is required by the police from the + landlord in regard to the names and quality of his guests who are foreign + to the town. You have a passport?” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said the American still more dryly. “But I do not keep it in an + unlocked portmanteau or an open writing case.” + </p> + <p> + “An admirable precaution,” said Sanderman, with unmoved politeness. “May I + see it? Thanks,” he added, glancing over the document which the American + produced from his pocket. “I see that you are a born American citizen—and + an earlier knowledge of that fact would have prevented this little + contretemps. You are aware, Mr. Hoffman, that your name is German?” + </p> + <p> + “It was borne by my ancestors, who came from this country two centuries + ago,” said Hoffman, curtly. + </p> + <p> + “We are indeed honored by your return to it,” returned Sanderman suavely, + “but it was the circumstance of your name being a local one, and the + possibility of your still being a German citizen liable to unperformed + military duty, which has caused the trouble.” His manner was clearly civil + and courteous, but Hoffman felt that all the time his own face and + features were undergoing a profound scrutiny from the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “And you are making sure that you will know me again?” said Hoffman, with + a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I trust, indeed, both,” returned Sanderman, with a bow, “although you + will permit me to say that your description here,” pointing to the + passport, “scarcely does you justice. ACH GOTT! it is the same in all + countries; the official eye is not that of the young DAMEN.” + </p> + <p> + Hoffman, though not conceited, had not lived twenty years without knowing + that he was very good-looking, yet there was something in the remark that + caused him to color with a new uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + The Ober-Inspector rose with another bow, and moved toward the door. “I + hope you will let me make amends for this intrusion by doing anything I + can to render your visit here a pleasant one. Perhaps,” he added, “it is + not for long.” + </p> + <p> + But Hoffman evaded the evident question, as he resented what he imagined + was a possible sneer. + </p> + <p> + “I have not yet determined my movements,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The Ober-Inspector brought his heels together in a somewhat stiffer + military salute and departed. + </p> + <p> + Nothing, however, could have exceeded the later almost servile urbanity of + the landlord, who seemed to have been proud of the official visit to his + guest. He was profuse in his attentions, and even introduced him to a + singularly artistic-looking man of middle age, wearing an order in his + buttonhole, whom he met casually in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Our Court photographer,” explained the landlord with some fervor, “at + whose studio, only a few houses distant, most of the Hoheiten and + Prinzessinen of Germany have sat for their likenesses.” + </p> + <p> + “I should feel honored if the distinguished American Herr would give me a + visit,” said the stranger gravely, as he gazed at Hoffman with an + intensity which recalled the previous scrutiny of the Police Inspector, + “and I would be charmed if he would avail himself of my poor skill to + transmit his picturesque features to my unique collection.” + </p> + <p> + Hoffman returned a polite evasion to this invitation, although he was + conscious of being struck with this second examination of his face, and + the allusion to his personality. + </p> + <p> + The next morning the porter met him with a mysterious air. The Herr would + still like to see the Schloss? Hoffman, who had quite forgotten his + adventure in the park, looked vacant. JA WOHL—the Hof authorities + had no doubt heard of his visit and had intimated to the hotel proprietor + that he might have permission to visit the model farm and dairy. As the + American still looked indifferent the porter pointed out with some + importance that it was a Ducal courtesy not to be lightly treated; that + few, indeed, of the burghers themselves had ever been admitted to this + eccentric whim of the late Grand Duchess. He would, of course, be silent + about it; the Court would not like it known that they had made an + exception to their rules in favor of a foreigner; he would enter quickly + and boldly alone. There would be a housekeeper or a dairymaid to show him + over the place. + </p> + <p> + More amused at this important mystery over what he, as an American, was + inclined to classify as a “free pass” to a somewhat heavy “side show,” he + gravely accepted the permission, and the next morning after breakfast set + out to visit the model farm and dairy. Dismissing his driver, as he had + been instructed, Hoffman entered the gateway with a mingling of expectancy + and a certain amusement over the “boldness” which the porter had suggested + should characterize his entrance. Before him was a beautifully kept lane + bordered by arbored and trellised roses, which seemed to sink into the + distance. He was instinctively following it when he became aware that he + was mysteriously accompanied by a man in the livery of a chasseur, who was + walking among the trees almost abreast of him, keeping pace with his step, + and after the first introductory military salute preserving a ceremonious + silence. There was something so ludicrous in this solemn procession toward + a peaceful, rural industry that by the time they had reached the bottom of + the lane the American had quite recovered his good humor. But here a new + astonishment awaited him. Nestling before him in a green amphitheater lay + a little wooden farm-yard and outbuildings, which irresistibly suggested + that it had been recently unpacked and set up from a box of Nuremberg + toys. The symmetrical trees, the galleried houses with preternaturally + glazed windows, even the spotty, disproportionately sized cows in the + white-fenced barnyards were all unreal, wooden and toylike. + </p> + <p> + Crossing a miniature bridge over a little stream, from which he was quite + prepared to hook metallic fish with a magnet their own size, he looked + about him for some real being to dispel the illusion. The mysterious + chasseur had disappeared. But under the arch of an arbor, which seemed to + be composed of silk ribbons, green glass, and pink tissue paper, stood a + quaint but delightful figure. + </p> + <p> + At first it seemed as if he had only dispelled one illusion for another. + For the figure before him might have been made of Dresden china—so + daintily delicate and unique it was in color and arrangement. It was that + of a young girl dressed in some forgotten medieval peasant garb of velvet + braids, silver-staylaced corsage, lace sleeves, and helmeted metallic + comb. But, after the Dresden method, the pale yellow of her hair was + repeated in her bodice, the pink of her cheeks was in the roses of her + chintz overskirt. The blue of her eyes was the blue of her petticoat; the + dazzling whiteness of her neck shone again in the sleeves and stockings. + Nevertheless she was real and human, for the pink deepened in her cheeks + as Hoffman's hat flew from his head, and she recognized the civility with + a grave little curtsy. + </p> + <p> + “You have come to see the dairy,” she said in quaintly accurate English; + “I will show you the way.” + </p> + <p> + “If you please,” said Hoffman, gaily, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” she said, facing him suddenly with absolutely astonished eyes. + </p> + <p> + Hoffman looked into them so long that their frank wonder presently + contracted into an ominous mingling of restraint and resentment. Nothing + daunted, however, he went on: + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't we shake all that?” + </p> + <p> + The look of wonder returned. “Shake all that?” she repeated. “I do not + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! I'm not positively aching to see cows, and you must be sick of + showing them. I think, too, I've about sized the whole show. Wouldn't it + be better if we sat down in that arbor—supposing it won't fall down—and + you told me all about the lot? It would save you a heap of trouble and + keep your pretty frock cleaner than trapesing round. Of course,” he said, + with a quick transition to the gentlest courtesy, “if you're conscientious + about this thing we'll go on and not spare a cow. Consider me in it with + you for the whole morning.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him again, and then suddenly broke into a charming laugh. It + revealed a set of strong white teeth, as well as a certain barbaric trace + in its cadence which civilized restraint had not entirely overlaid. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she really is a peasant, in spite of that pretty frock,” he + said to himself as he laughed too. + </p> + <p> + But her face presently took a shade of reserve, and with a gentle but + singular significance she said: + </p> + <p> + “I think you must see the dairy.” + </p> + <p> + Hoffman's hat was in his hand with a vivacity that tumbled the brown curls + on his forehead. “By all means,” he said instantly, and began walking by + her side in modest but easy silence. Now that he thought her a + conscientious peasant he was quiet and respectful. + </p> + <p> + Presently she lifted her eyes, which, despite her gravity, had not + entirely lost their previous mirthfulness, and said: + </p> + <p> + “But you Americans—in your rich and prosperous country, with your + large lands and your great harvests—you must know all about + farming.” + </p> + <p> + “Never was in a dairy in my life,” said Hoffman gravely. “I'm from the + city of New York, where the cows give swill milk, and are kept in + cellars.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyebrows contracted prettily in an effort to understand. Then she + apparently gave it up, and said with a slanting glint of mischief in her + eyes: + </p> + <p> + “Then you come here like the other Americans in hope to see the Grand Duke + and Duchess and the Princesses?” + </p> + <p> + “No. The fact is I almost tumbled into a lot of 'em—standing like + wax figures—the other side of the park lodge, the other day—and + got away as soon as I could. I think I prefer the cows.” + </p> + <p> + Her head was slightly turned away. He had to content himself with looking + down upon the strong feet in their serviceable but smartly buckled shoes + that uplifted her upright figure as she moved beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he added with boyish but unmistakable courtesy, “if it's part + of your show to trot out the family, why I'm in that, too. I dare say you + could make them interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “But why,” she said with her head still slightly turned away toward a + figure—a sturdy-looking woman, which, for the first time, Hoffman + perceived was walking in a line with them as the chasseur had done—“why + did you come here at all?” + </p> + <p> + “The first time was a fool accident,” he returned frankly. “I was making a + short cut through what I thought was a public park. The second time was + because I had been rude to a Police Inspector whom I found going through + my things, but who apologized—as I suppose—by getting me an + invitation from the Grand Duke to come here, and I thought it only the + square thing to both of 'em to accept it. But I'm mighty glad I came; I + wouldn't have missed YOU for a thousand dollars. You see I haven't struck + anyone I cared to talk to since.” Here he suddenly remarked that she + hadn't looked at him, and that the delicate whiteness of her neck was + quite suffused with pink, and stopped instantly. Presently he said quite + easily: + </p> + <p> + “Who's the chorus?” + </p> + <p> + “The lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She's watching us as if she didn't quite approve, you know—just + as if she didn't catch on.” + </p> + <p> + “She's the head housekeeper of the farm. Perhaps you would prefer to have + her show you the dairy; shall I call her?” + </p> + <p> + The figure in question was very short and stout, with voluminous + petticoats. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't; I'll stay without your setting that paperweight on me. But + here's the dairy. Don't let her come inside among those pans of fresh milk + with that smile, or there'll be trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl paused too, made a slight gesture with her hand, and the + figure passed on as they entered the dairy. It was beautifully clean and + fresh. With a persistence that he quickly recognized as mischievous and + ironical, and with his characteristic adaptability accepted with even + greater gravity and assumption of interest, she showed him all the + details. From thence they passed to the farmyard, where he hung with + breathless attention over the names of the cows and made her repeat them. + Although she was evidently familiar with the subject, he could see that + her zeal was fitful and impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we sit down,” he said, pointing to an ostentatious rustic seat in + the center of the green. + </p> + <p> + “Sir down?” she repeated wonderingly. “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “To talk. We'll knock off and call it half a day.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you are not looking at the farm you are, of course, going,” she + said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Am I? I don't think these particulars were in my invitation.” + </p> + <p> + She again broke into a fit of laughter, and at the same time cast a bright + eye around the field. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said gently, “there are no other sightseers waiting, and your + conscience is clear,” and he moved toward the rustic seat. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not—there,” she added in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + They moved on slowly together to a copse of willows which overhung the + miniature stream. + </p> + <p> + “You are not staying long in Alstadt?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No; I only came to see the old town that my ancestors came from.” + </p> + <p> + They were walking so close together that her skirt brushed his trousers, + but she suddenly drew away from him, and looking him fixedly in the eye + said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have relations here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but they are dead two hundred years.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again with a slight expression of relief. They had entered the + copse and were walking in dense shadow when she suddenly stopped and sat + down upon a rustic bench. To his surprise he found that they were quite + alone. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about these relatives,” she said, slightly drawing aside her + skirt to make room for him on the seat. + </p> + <p> + He did not require a second invitation. He not only told her all about his + ancestral progenitors, but, I fear, even about those more recent and more + nearly related to him; about his own life, his vocation—he was a + clever newspaper correspondent with a roving commission—his + ambitions, his beliefs and his romance. + </p> + <p> + “And then, perhaps, of this visit—you will also make 'copy'?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled at her quick adaptation of his professional slang, but shook his + head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said gravely. “No—this is YOU. The CHICAGO INTERVIEWER is + big pay and is rich, but it hasn't capital enough to buy you from me.” + </p> + <p> + He gently slid his hand toward hers and slipped his fingers softly around + it. She made a slight movement of withdrawal, but even then—as if in + forgetfulness or indifference—permitted her hand to rest + unresponsively in his. It was scarcely an encouragement to gallantry, + neither was it a rejection of an unconscious familiarity. + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't told me about yourself,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I,” she returned, with her first approach to coquetry in a laugh and + a sidelong glance, “of what importance is that to you? It is the Grand + Duchess and Her Highness the Princess that you Americans seek to know. I + am—what I am—as you see.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet,” said Hoffman with charming decision. + </p> + <p> + “I WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “You ARE, you know, and that's good enough for me, but I don't even know + your name.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again, and after a pause, said: “Elsbeth.” + </p> + <p> + “But I couldn't call you by your first name on our first meeting, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you Americans are really so very formal—eh?” she said slyly, + looking at her imprisoned hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes,” returned Hoffman, disengaging it. “I suppose we are + respectful, or mean to be. But whom am I to inquire for? To write to?” + </p> + <p> + “You are neither to write nor inquire.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” She had moved in her seat so as to half-face him with eyes in + which curiosity, mischief, and a certain seriousness alternated, but for + the first time seemed conscious of his hand, and accented her words with a + slight pressure. + </p> + <p> + “You are to return to your hotel presently, and say to your landlord: + 'Pack up my luggage. I have finished with this old town and my ancestors, + and the Grand Duke, whom I do not care to see, and I shall leave Alstadt + tomorrow!'” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you! I don't catch on.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what necessity should you? I have said it. That should be enough for a + chivalrous American like you.” She again significantly looked down at her + hand. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean that you know the extent of the favor you ask of me, I can + say no more,” he said seriously; “but give me some reason for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah so!” she said, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Then I must tell + you. You say you do not know the Grand Duke and Duchess. Well! THEY KNOW + YOU. The day before yesterday you were wandering in the park, as you + admit. You say, also, you got through the hedge and interrupted some + ceremony. That ceremony was not a Court function, Mr. Hoffman, but + something equally sacred—the photographing of the Ducal family + before the Schloss. You say that you instantly withdrew. But after the + photograph was taken the plate revealed a stranger standing actually by + the side of the Princess Alexandrine, and even taking the PAS of the Grand + Duke himself. That stranger was you!” + </p> + <p> + “And the picture was spoiled,” said the American, with a quiet laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I should not say that,” returned the lady, with a demure glance at her + companion's handsome face, “and I do not believe that the Princess—who + first saw the photograph—thought so either. But she is very young + and willful, and has the reputation of being very indiscreet, and + unfortunately she begged the photographer not to destroy the plate, but to + give it to her, and to say nothing about it, except that the plate was + defective, and to take another. Still it would have ended there if her + curiosity had not led her to confide a description of the stranger to the + Police Inspector, with the result you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am expected to leave town because I accidentally stumbled into a + family group that was being photographed?” + </p> + <p> + “Because a certain Princess was indiscreet enough to show her curiosity + about you,” corrected the fair stranger. + </p> + <p> + “But look here! I'll apologize to the Princess, and offer to pay for the + plate.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do want to see the Princess?” said the young girl smiling; “you + are like the others.” + </p> + <p> + “Bother the Princess! I want to see YOU. And I don't see how they can + prevent it if I choose to remain.” + </p> + <p> + “Very easily. You will find that there is something wrong with your + passport, and you will be sent on to Pumpernickel for examination. You + will unwittingly transgress some of the laws of the town and be ordered to + leave it. You will be shadowed by the police until you quarrel with them—like + a free American—and you are conducted to the frontier. Perhaps you + will strike an officer who has insulted you, and then you are finished on + the spot.” + </p> + <p> + The American's crest rose palpably until it cocked his straw hat over his + curls. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I am content to risk it—having first laid the whole matter + and its trivial cause before the American Minister, so that he could make + it hot for this whole caboodle of a country if they happened to 'down me.' + By Jove! I shouldn't mind being the martyr of an international episode if + they'd spare me long enough to let me get the first 'copy' over to the + other side.” His eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + “You could expose them, but they would then deny the whole story, and you + have no evidence. They would demand to know your informant, and I should + be disgraced, and the Princess, who is already talked about, made a + subject of scandal. But no matter! It is right that an American's + independence shall not be interfered with.” + </p> + <p> + She raised the hem of her handkerchief to her blue eyes and slightly + turned her head aside. Hoffman gently drew the handkerchief away, and in + so doing possessed himself of her other hand. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Miss—Miss—Elsbeth. You know I wouldn't give you + away, whatever happened. But couldn't I get hold of that photographer—I + saw him, he wanted me to sit to him—and make him tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “He wanted you to sit to him,” she said hurriedly, “and did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied. “He was a little too fresh and previous, though I + thought he fancied some resemblance in me to somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” She said something to herself in German which he did not understand, + and then added aloud: + </p> + <p> + “You did well; he is a bad man, this photographer. Promise me you shall + not sit for him.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I if I'm fired out of the place like this?” He added ruefully, + “But I'd like to make him give himself away to me somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “He will not, and if he did he would deny it afterward. Do not go near him + nor see him. Be careful that he does not photograph you with his + instantaneous instrument when you are passing. Now you must go. I must see + the Princess.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, too. I will explain it to her,” said Hoffman. + </p> + <p> + She stopped, looked at him keenly, and attempted to withdraw her hands. + “Ah, then it IS so. It is the Princess you wish to see. You are curious—you, + too; you wish to see this lady who is interested in you. I ought to have + known it. You are all alike.” + </p> + <p> + He met her gaze with laughing frankness, accepting her outburst as a + charming feminine weakness, half jealousy, half coquetry—but + retained her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” he said. “I wish to see her that I may have the right to see + you—that you shall not lose your place here through me; that I may + come again.” + </p> + <p> + “You must never come here again.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must come where I am. We will meet somewhere when you have an + afternoon off. You shall show me the town—the houses of my ancestors—their + tombs; possibly—if the Grand Duke rampages—the probable site + of my own.” + </p> + <p> + She looked into his laughing eyes with her clear, stedfast, gravely + questioning blue ones. “Do not you Americans know that it is not the + fashion here, in Germany, for the young men and the young women to walk + together—unless they are VERLOBT?” + </p> + <p> + “VER—which?” + </p> + <p> + “Engaged.” She nodded her head thrice: viciously, decidedly, + mischievously. + </p> + <p> + “So much the better.” + </p> + <p> + “ACH GOTT!” She made a gesture of hopelessness at his incorrigibility, and + again attempted to withdraw her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I must go now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, good-by.” + </p> + <p> + It was easy to draw her closer by simply lowering her still captive hands. + Then he suddenly kissed her coldly startled lips, and instantly released + her. She as instantly vanished. + </p> + <p> + “Elsbeth,” he called quickly. “Elsbeth!” + </p> + <p> + Her now really frightened face reappeared with a heightened color from the + dense foliage—quite to his astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” she said, with her finger on her lips. “Are you mad?” + </p> + <p> + “I only wanted to remind you to square me with the Princess,” he laughed + as her head disappeared. + </p> + <p> + He strolled back toward the gate. Scarcely had he quitted the shrubbery + before the same chasseur made his appearance with precisely the same + salute; and, keeping exactly the same distance, accompanied him to the + gate. At the corner of the street he hailed a droshky and was driven to + his hotel. + </p> + <p> + The landlord came up smiling. He trusted that the Herr had greatly enjoyed + himself at the Schloss. It was a distinguished honor—in fact, quite + unprecedented. Hoffman, while he determined not to commit himself, nor his + late fair companion, was nevertheless anxious to learn something more of + her relations to the Schloss. So pretty, so characteristic, and marked a + figure must be well known to sightseers. Indeed, once or twice the idea + had crossed his mind with a slightly jealous twinge that left him more + conscious of the impression she had made on him than he had deemed + possible. He asked if the model farm and dairy were always shown by the + same attendants. + </p> + <p> + “ACH GOTT! no doubt, yes; His Royal Highness had quite a retinue when he + was in residence.” + </p> + <p> + “And were these attendants in costume?” + </p> + <p> + “There was undoubtedly a livery for the servants.” + </p> + <p> + Hoffman felt a slight republican irritation at the epithet—he knew + not why. But this costume was rather a historical one; surely it was not + entrusted to everyday menials—and he briefly described it. + </p> + <p> + His host's blank curiosity suddenly changed to a look of mysterious and + arch intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “ACH GOTT! yes!” He remembered now (with his finger on his nose) that when + there was a fest at the Schloss the farm and dairy were filled with + shepherdesses, in quaint costume worn by the ladies of the Grand Duke's + own theatrical company, who assumed the characters with great vivacity. + Surely it was the same, and the Grand Duke had treated the Herr to this + special courtesy. Yes—there was one pretty, blonde young lady—the + Fraulein Wimpfenbuttel, a most popular soubrette, who would play it to the + life! And the description fitted her to a hair! Ah, there was no doubt of + it; many persons, indeed, had been so deceived. + </p> + <p> + But happily, now that he had given him the wink, the Herr could + corroborate it himself by going to the theater tonight. Ah, it would be a + great joke—quite colossal! if he took a front seat where she could + see him. And the good man rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipation. + </p> + <p> + Hoffman had listened to him with a slow repugnance that was only equal to + his gradual conviction that the explanation was a true one, and that he + himself had been ridiculously deceived. The mystery of his fair + companion's costume, which he had accepted as part of the “show”; the + inconsistency of her manner and her evident occupation; her undeniable + wish to terminate the whole episode with that single interview; her + mingling of worldly aplomb and rustic innocence; her perfect self-control + and experienced acceptance of his gallantry under the simulated attitude + of simplicity—all now struck him as perfectly comprehensible. He + recalled the actress's inimitable touch in certain picturesque realistic + details in the dairy—which she had not spared him; he recognized it + now even in their bowered confidences (how like a pretty ballet scene + their whole interview on the rustic bench was!), and it breathed through + their entire conversation—to their theatrical parting at the close! + And the whole story of the photograph was, no doubt, as pure a dramatic + invention as the rest! The Princess's romantic interest in him—that + Princess who had never appeared (why had he not detected the old, + well-worn, sentimental situation here?)—was all a part of it. The + dark, mysterious hint of his persecution by the police was a necessary + culmination to the little farce. Thank Heaven! he had not “risen” at the + Princess, even if he had given himself away to the clever actress in her + own humble role. Then the humor of the whole situation predominated and he + laughed until the tears came to his eyes, and his forgotten ancestors + might have turned over in their graves without his heeding them. And with + this humanizing influence upon him he went to the theater. + </p> + <p> + It was capacious even for the town, and although the performance was a + special one he had no difficulty in getting a whole box to himself. He + tried to avoid this public isolation by sitting close to the next box, + where there was a solitary occupant—an officer—apparently as + lonely as himself. He had made up his mind that when his fair deceiver + appeared he would let her see by his significant applause that he + recognized her, but bore no malice for the trick she had played on him. + After all, he had kissed her—he had no right to complain. If she + should recognize him, and this recognition led to a withdrawal of her + prohibition, and their better acquaintance, he would be a fool to cavil at + her pleasant artifice. Her vocation was certainly a more independent and + original one than that he had supposed; for its social quality and + inequality he cared nothing. He found himself longing for the glance of + her calm blue eyes, for the pleasant smile that broke the seriousness of + her sweetly restrained lips. There was no doubt that he should know her + even as the heroine of DER CZAR UND DER ZIMMERMANN on the bill before him. + He was becoming impatient. And the performance evidently was waiting. A + stir in the outer gallery, the clatter of sabers, the filing of uniforms + into the royal box, and a triumphant burst from the orchestra showed the + cause. As a few ladies and gentlemen in full evening dress emerged from + the background of uniforms and took their places in the front of the box, + Hoffman looked with some interest for the romantic Princess. Suddenly he + saw a face and shoulders in a glitter of diamonds that startled him, and + then a glance that transfixed him. + </p> + <p> + He leaned over to his neighbor. “Who is the young lady in the box?” + </p> + <p> + “The Princess Alexandrine.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean the young lady in blue with blond hair and blue eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the Princess Alexandrine Elsbeth Marie Stephanie, the daughter of + the Grand Duke—there is none other there.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + He sat silently looking at the rising curtain and the stage. Then he rose + quietly, gathered his hat and coat, and left the box. When he reached the + gallery he turned instinctively and looked back at the royal box. Her eyes + had followed him, and as he remained a moment motionless in the doorway + her lips parted in a grateful smile, and she waved her fan with a faint + but unmistakable gesture of farewell. + </p> + <p> + The next morning he left Alstadt. There was some little delay at the Zoll + on the frontier, and when Hoffman received back his trunk it was + accompanied by a little sealed packet which was handed to him by the + Customhouse Inspector. Hoffman did not open it until he was alone. + </p> + <p> + There hangs upon the wall of his modest apartment in New York a narrow, + irregular photograph ingeniously framed, of himself standing side by side + with a young German girl, who, in the estimation of his compatriots, is by + no means stylish and only passably good-looking. When he is joked by his + friends about the post of honor given to this production, and questioned + as to the lady, he remains silent. The Princess Alexandrine Elsbeth Marie + Stephanie von Westphalen-Alstadt, among her other royal qualities, knew + whom to trust. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DEVOTION OF ENRIQUEZ + </h2> + <p> + In another chronicle which dealt with the exploits of “Chu Chu,” a + Californian mustang, I gave some space to the accomplishments of Enriquez + Saltillo, who assisted me in training her, and who was also brother to + Consuelo Saitillo, the young lady to whom I had freely given both the + mustang and my youthful affections. I consider it a proof of the + superiority of masculine friendship that neither the subsequent desertion + of the mustang nor that of the young lady ever made the slightest + difference to Enriquez or me in our exalted amity. To a wondering doubt as + to what I ever could possibly have seen in his sister to admire he joined + a tolerant skepticism of the whole sex. This he was wont to express in + that marvelous combination of Spanish precision and California slang for + which he was justly famous. “As to thees women and their little game,” he + would say, “believe me, my friend, your old Oncle 'Enry is not in it. No; + he will ever take a back seat when lofe is around. For why? Regard me + here! If she is a horse, you shall say, 'She will buck-jump,' 'She will + ess-shy,' 'She will not arrive,' or 'She will arrive too quick.' But if it + is thees women, where are you? For when you shall say, 'She will ess-shy,' + look you, she will walk straight; or she will remain tranquil when you + think she buck-jump; or else she will arrive and, look you, you will not. + You shall get left. It is ever so. My father and the brother of my father + have both make court to my mother when she was but a senorita. My father + think she have lofe his brother more. So he say to her: 'It is enofe; + tranquillize yourself. I will go. I will efface myself. Adios! Shake + hands! Ta-ta! So long! See you again in the fall.' And what make my + mother? Regard me! She marry my father—on the instant! Of thees + women, believe me, Pancho, you shall know nothing. Not even if they shall + make you the son of your father or his nephew.” + </p> + <p> + I have recalled this characteristic speech to show the general tendency of + Enriquez' convictions at the opening of this little story. It is only fair + to say, however, that his usual attitude toward the sex he so cheerfully + maligned exhibited little apprehension or caution in dealing with them. + Among the frivolous and light-minded intermixture of his race he moved + with great freedom and popularity. He danced well; when we went to + fandangos together his agility and the audacity of his figures always + procured him the prettiest partners, his professed sentiments, I presume, + shielding him from subsequent jealousies, heartburnings, or envy. I have a + vivid recollection of him in the mysteries of the SEMICUACUA, a somewhat + corybantic dance which left much to the invention of the performers, and + very little to the imagination of the spectator. In one of the figures a + gaudy handkerchief, waved more or less gracefully by dancer and danseuse + before the dazzled eyes of each other, acted as love's signal, and was + used to express alternate admiration and indifference, shyness and + audacity, fear and transport, coyness and coquetry, as the dance + proceeded. I need not say that Enriquez' pantomimic illustration of these + emotions was peculiarly extravagant; but it was always performed and + accepted with a gravity that was an essential feature of the dance. At + such times sighs would escape him which were supposed to portray the + incipient stages of passion; snorts of jealousy burst from him at the + suggestion of a rival; he was overtaken by a sort of St. Vitus's dance + that expressed his timidity in making the first advances of affection; the + scorn of his ladylove struck him with something like a dumb ague; and a + single gesture of invitation from her produced marked delirium. All this + was very like Enriquez; but on the particular occasion to which I refer, I + think no one was prepared to see him begin the figure with the waving of + FOUR handkerchiefs! Yet this he did, pirouetting, capering, brandishing + his silken signals like a ballerina's scarf in the languishment or fire of + passion, until, in a final figure, where the conquered and submitting fair + one usually sinks into the arms of her partner, need it be said that the + ingenious Enriquez was found in the center of the floor supporting four of + the dancers! Yet he was by no means unduly excited either by the plaudits + of the crowd or by his evident success with the fair. “Ah, believe me, it + is nothing,” he said quietly, rolling a fresh cigarette as he leaned + against the doorway. “Possibly, I shall have to offer the chocolate or the + wine to thees girls, or make to them a promenade in the moonlight on the + veranda. It is ever so. Unless, my friend,” he said, suddenly turning + toward me in an excess of chivalrous self-abnegation, “unless you shall + yourself take my place. Behold, I gif them to you! I vamos! I vanish! I + make track! I skedaddle!” I think he would have carried his extravagance + to the point of summoning his four gypsy witches of partners, and + committing them to my care, if the crowd had not at that moment parted + before the remaining dancers, and left one of the onlookers, a tall, + slender girl, calmly surveying them through gold-rimmed eyeglasses in + complete critical absorption. I stared in amazement and consternation; for + I recognized in the fair stranger Miss Urania Mannersley, the + Congregational minister's niece! + </p> + <p> + Everybody knew Rainie Mannersley throughout the length and breadth of the + Encinal. She was at once the envy and the goad of the daughters of those + Southwestern and Eastern immigrants who had settled in the valley. She was + correct, she was critical, she was faultless and observant. She was + proper, yet independent; she was highly educated; she was suspected of + knowing Latin and Greek; she even spelled correctly! She could wither the + plainest field nosegay in the hands of other girls by giving the flowers + their botanical names. She never said “Ain't you?” but “Aren't you?” She + looked upon “Did I which?” as an incomplete and imperfect form of “What + did I do?” She quoted from Browning and Tennyson, and was believed to have + read them. She was from Boston. What could she possibly be doing at a + free-and-easy fandango? + </p> + <p> + Even if these facts were not already familiar to everyone there, her + outward appearance would have attracted attention. Contrasted with the + gorgeous red, black, and yellow skirts of the dancers, her plain, tightly + fitting gown and hat, all of one delicate gray, were sufficiently notable + in themselves, even had they not seemed, like the girl herself, a kind of + quiet protest to the glaring flounces before her. Her small, straight + waist and flat back brought into greater relief the corsetless, waistless, + swaying figures of the Mexican girls, and her long, slim, well-booted + feet, peeping from the stiff, white edges of her short skirt, made their + broad, low-quartered slippers, held on by the big toe, appear more + preposterous than ever. Suddenly she seemed to realize that she was + standing there alone, but without fear or embarrassment. She drew back a + little, glancing carelessly behind her as if missing some previous + companion, and then her eyes fell upon mine. She smiled an easy + recognition; then a moment later, her glance rested more curiously upon + Enriquez, who was still by my side. I disengaged myself and instantly + joined her, particularly as I noticed that a few of the other bystanders + were beginning to stare at her with little reserve. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it the most extraordinary thing you ever saw?” she said quietly. + Then, presently noticing the look of embarrassment on my face, she went + on, more by way of conversation than of explanation: + </p> + <p> + “I just left uncle making a call on a parishioner next door, and was going + home with Jocasta (a peon servant of her uncle's), when I heard the music, + and dropped in. I don't know what has become of her,” she added, glancing + round the room again; “she seemed perfectly wild when she saw that + creature over there bounding about with his handkerchiefs. You were + speaking to him just now. Do tell me—is he real?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think there was little doubt of that,” I said with a vague + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You know what I mean,” she said simply. “Is he quite sane? Does he do + that because he likes it, or is he paid for it?” + </p> + <p> + This was too much. I pointed out somewhat hurriedly that he was a scion of + one of the oldest Castilian families, that the performance was a national + gypsy dance which he had joined in as a patriot and a patron, and that he + was my dearest friend. At the same time I was conscious that I wished she + hadn't seen his last performance. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say that all that he did was in the dance?” she said. + “I don't believe it. It was only like him.” As I hesitated over this + palpable truth, she went on: “I do wish he'd do it again. Don't you think + you could make him?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he might if YOU asked him,” I said a little maliciously. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I shouldn't do that,” she returned quietly. “All the same, I do + believe he is really going to do it—or something else. Do look!” + </p> + <p> + I looked, and to my horror saw that Enriquez, possibly incited by the + delicate gold eyeglasses of Miss Mannersley, had divested himself of his + coat, and was winding the four handkerchiefs, tied together, picturesquely + around his waist, preparatory to some new performance. I tried furtively + to give him a warning look, but in vain. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he really too absurd for anything?” said Miss Mannersley, yet with + a certain comfortable anticipation in her voice. “You know, I never saw + anything like this before. I wouldn't have believed such a creature could + have existed.” + </p> + <p> + Even had I succeeded in warning him, I doubt if it would have been of any + avail. For, seizing a guitar from one of the musicians, he struck a few + chords, and suddenly began to zigzag into the center of the floor, swaying + his body languishingly from side to side in time with the music and the + pitch of a thin Spanish tenor. It was a gypsy love song. Possibly Miss + Mannersley's lingual accomplishments did not include a knowledge of + Castilian, but she could not fail to see that the gestures and + illustrative pantomime were addressed to her. Passionately assuring her + that she was the most favored daughter of the Virgin, that her eyes were + like votive tapers, and yet in the same breath accusing her of being a + “brigand” and “assassin” in her attitude toward “his heart,” he balanced + with quivering timidity toward her, threw an imaginary cloak in front of + her neat boots as a carpet for her to tread on, and with a final + astonishing pirouette and a languishing twang of his guitar, sank on one + knee, and blew, with a rose, a kiss at her feet. + </p> + <p> + If I had been seriously angry with him before for his grotesque + extravagance, I could have pitied him now for the young girl's absolute + unconsciousness of anything but his utter ludicrousness. The applause of + dancers and bystanders was instantaneous and hearty; her only contribution + to it was a slight parting of her thin red lips in a half-incredulous + smile. In the silence that followed the applause, as Enriquez walked + pantingly away, I heard her saying, half to herself, “Certainly a most + extraordinary creature!” In my indignation I could not help turning + suddenly upon her and looking straight into her eyes. They were brown, + with that peculiar velvet opacity common to the pupils of nearsighted + persons, and seemed to defy internal scrutiny. She only repeated + carelessly, “Isn't he?” and added: “Please see if you can find Jocasta. I + suppose we ought to be going now; and I dare say he won't be doing it + again. Ah! there she is. Good gracious, child! what have you got there?” + </p> + <p> + It was Enriquez' rose which Jocasta had picked up, and was timidly holding + out toward her mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! I don't want it. Keep it yourself.” + </p> + <p> + I walked with them to the door, as I did not fancy a certain glitter in + the black eyes of the Senoritas Manuela and Pepita, who were watching her + curiously. But I think she was as oblivious of this as she was of + Enriquez' particular attentions. As we reached the street I felt that I + ought to say something more. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” I began casually, “that although those poor people meet here + in this public way, their gathering is really quite a homely pastoral and + a national custom; and these girls are all honest, hardworking peons or + servants enjoying themselves in quite the old idyllic fashion.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the young girl, half-abstractedly. “Of course it's a + Moorish dance, originally brought over, I suppose, by those old Andalusian + immigrants two hundred years ago. It's quite Arabic in its suggestions. I + have got something like it in an old CANCIONERO I picked up at a bookstall + in Boston. But,” she added, with a gasp of reminiscent satisfaction, + “that's not like HIM! Oh, no! HE is decidedly original. Heavens! yes.” + </p> + <p> + I turned away in some discomfiture to join Enriquez, who was calmly + awaiting me, with a cigarette in his mouth, outside the sala. Yet he + looked so unconscious of any previous absurdity that I hesitated in what I + thought was a necessary warning. He, however, quickly precipitated it. + Glancing after the retreating figures of the two women, he said: “Thees + mees from Boston is return to her house. You do not accompany her? I + shall. Behold me—I am there.” But I linked my arm firmly in his. + Then I pointed out, first, that she was already accompanied by a servant; + secondly, that if I, who knew her, had hesitated to offer myself as an + escort, it was hardly proper for him, a perfect stranger, to take that + liberty; that Miss Mannersley was very punctilious of etiquette, which he, + as a Castilian gentleman, ought to appreciate. + </p> + <p> + “But will she not regard lofe—the admiration excessif?” he said, + twirling his thin little mustache meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “No; she will not,” I returned sharply; “and you ought to understand that + she is on a different level from your Manuelas and Carmens.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, my friend,” he said gravely; “thees women are ever the same. + There is a proverb in my language. Listen: 'Whether the sharp blade of the + Toledo pierce the satin or the goatskin, it shall find behind it ever the + same heart to wound.' I am that Toledo blade—possibly it is you, my + friend. Wherefore, let us together pursue this girl of Boston on the + instant.” + </p> + <p> + But I kept my grasp on Enriquez' arm, and succeeded in restraining his + mercurial impulses for the moment. He halted, and puffed vigorously at his + cigarette; but the next instant he started forward again. “Let us, + however, follow with discretion in the rear; we shall pass her house; we + shall gaze at it; it shall touch her heart.” + </p> + <p> + Ridiculous as was this following of the young girl we had only just parted + from, I nevertheless knew that Enriquez was quite capable of attempting it + alone, and I thought it better to humor him by consenting to walk with him + in that direction; but I felt it necessary to say: + </p> + <p> + “I ought to warn you that Miss Mannersley already looks upon your + performances at the sala as something outre and peculiar, and if I were + you I shouldn't do anything to deepen that impression.” + </p> + <p> + “You are saying she ees shock?” said Enriquez, gravely. + </p> + <p> + I felt I could not conscientiously say that she was shocked, and he saw my + hesitation. “Then she have jealousy of the senoritas,” he observed, with + insufferable complacency. “You observe! I have already said. It is ever + so.” + </p> + <p> + I could stand it no longer. “Look here, Harry,” I said, “if you must know + it, she looks upon you as an acrobat—a paid performer.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!”—his black eyes sparkled—“the torero, the man who fights + the bull, he is also an acrobat.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but she thinks you a clown!—a GRACIOSO DE TEATRO—there!” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have make her laugh?” he said coolly. + </p> + <p> + I don't think he had; but I shrugged my shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “BUENO!” he said cheerfully. “Lofe, he begin with a laugh, he make feenish + with a sigh.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to look at him in the moonlight. His face presented its habitual + Spanish gravity—a gravity that was almost ironical. His small black + eyes had their characteristic irresponsible audacity—the + irresponsibility of the vivacious young animal. It could not be possible + that he was really touched with the placid frigidities of Miss Mannersley. + I remembered his equally elastic gallantries with Miss Pinkey Smith, a + blonde Western belle, from which both had harmlessly rebounded. As we + walked on slowly I continued more persuasively: “Of course this is only + your nonsense; but don't you see, Miss Mannersley thinks it all in earnest + and really your nature?” I hesitated, for it suddenly struck me that it + WAS really his nature. “And—hang it all!—you don't want her to + believe you a common buffoon., or some intoxicated muchacho.” + </p> + <p> + “Intoxicated?” repeated Enriquez, with exasperating languishment. “Yes; + that is the word that shall express itself. My friend, you have made a + shot in the center—you have ring the bell every time! It is + intoxication—but not of aguardiente. Look! I have long time an + ancestor of whom is a pretty story. One day in church he have seen a young + girl—a mere peasant girl—pass to the confessional. He look her + in her eye, he stagger”—here Enriquez wobbled pantomimically into + the road—“he fall!”—he would have suited the action to the + word if I had not firmly held him up. “They have taken him home, where he + have remain without his clothes, and have dance and sing. But it was the + drunkenness of lofe. And, look you, thees village girl was a nothing, not + even pretty. The name of my ancestor was—” + </p> + <p> + “Don Quixote de La Mancha,” I suggested maliciously. “I suspected as much. + Come along. That will do.” + </p> + <p> + “My ancestor's name,” continued Enriquez, gravely, “was Antonio + Hermenegildo de Salvatierra, which is not the same. Thees Don Quixote of + whom you speak exist not at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. Only, for heaven's sake, as we are nearing the house, don't + make a fool of yourself again.” + </p> + <p> + It was a wonderful moonlight night. The deep redwood porch of the + Mannersley parsonage, under the shadow of a great oak—the largest in + the Encinal—was diapered in black and silver. As the women stepped + upon the porch their shadows were silhouetted against the door. Miss + Mannersley paused for an instant, and turned to give a last look at the + beauty of the night as Jocasta entered. Her glance fell upon us as we + passed. She nodded carelessly and unaffectedly to me, but as she + recognized Enriquez she looked a little longer at him with her previous + cold and invincible curiosity. To my horror Enriquez began instantly to + affect a slight tremulousness of gait and a difficulty of breathing; but I + gripped his arm savagely, and managed to get him past the house as the + door closed finally on the young lady. + </p> + <p> + “You do not comprehend, friend Pancho,” he said gravely, “but those eyes + in their glass are as the ESPEJO USTORIO, the burning mirror. They burn, + they consume me here like paper. Let us affix to ourselves thees tree. She + will, without doubt, appear at her window. We shall salute her for good + night.” + </p> + <p> + “We will do nothing of the kind,” I said sharply. Finding that I was + determined, he permitted me to lead him away. I was delighted to notice, + however, that he had indicated the window which I knew was the minister's + study, and that as the bedrooms were in the rear of the house, this later + incident was probably not overseen by the young lady or the servant. But I + did not part from Enriquez until I saw him safely back to the sala, where + I left him sipping chocolate, his arm alternating around the waists of his + two previous partners in a delightful Arcadian and childlike simplicity, + and an apparent utter forgetfulness of Miss Mannersley. + </p> + <p> + The fandangos were usually held on Saturday night, and the next day, being + Sunday, I missed Enriquez; but as he was a devout Catholic I remembered + that he was at mass in the morning, and possibly at the bullfight at San + Antonio in the afternoon. But I was somewhat surprised on the Monday + morning following, as I was crossing the plaza, to have my arm taken by + the Rev. Mr. Mannersley in the nearest approach to familiarity that was + consistent with the reserve of this eminent divine. I looked at him + inquiringly. Although scrupulously correct in attire, his features always + had a singular resemblance to the national caricature known as “Uncle + Sam,” but with the humorous expression left out. Softly stroking his + goatee with three fingers, he began condescendingly: “You are, I think, + more or less familiar with the characteristics and customs of the Spanish + as exhibited by the settlers here.” A thrill of apprehension went through + me. Had he heard of Enriquez' proceedings? Had Miss Mannersley cruelly + betrayed him to her uncle? “I have not given that attention myself to + their language and social peculiarities,” he continued, with a large wave + of the hand, “being much occupied with a study of their religious beliefs + and superstitions”—it struck me that this was apt to be a common + fault of people of the Mannersley type—“but I have refrained from a + personal discussion of them; on the contrary, I have held somewhat broad + views on the subject of their remarkable missionary work, and have + suggested a scheme of co-operation with them, quite independent of + doctrinal teaching, to my brethren of other Protestant Christian sects. + These views I first incorporated in a sermon last Sunday week, which I am + told has created considerable attention.” He stopped and coughed slightly. + “I have not yet heard from any of the Roman clergy, but I am led to + believe that my remarks were not ungrateful to Catholics generally.” + </p> + <p> + I was relieved, although still in some wonder why he should address me on + this topic. I had a vague remembrance of having heard that he had said + something on Sunday which had offended some Puritans of his flock, but + nothing more. He continued: “I have just said that I was unacquainted with + the characteristics of the Spanish-American race. I presume, however, they + have the impulsiveness of their Latin origin. They gesticulate—eh? + They express their gratitude, their joy, their affection, their emotions + generally, by spasmodic movements? They naturally dance—sing—eh?” + A horrible suspicion crossed my mind; I could only stare helplessly at + him. “I see,” he said graciously; “perhaps it is a somewhat general + question. I will explain myself. A rather singular occurrence happened to + me the other night. I had returned from visiting a parishioner, and was + alone in my study reviewing my sermon for the next day. It must have been + quite late before I concluded, for I distinctly remember my niece had + returned with her servant fully an hour before. Presently I heard the + sounds of a musical instrument in the road, with the accents of someone + singing or rehearsing some metrical composition in words that, although + couched in a language foreign to me, in expression and modulation gave me + the impression of being distinctly adulatory. For some little time, in the + greater preoccupation of my task, I paid little attention to the + performance; but its persistency at length drew me in no mere idle + curiosity to the window. From thence, standing in my dressing-gown, and + believing myself unperceived, I noticed under the large oak in the + roadside the figure of a young man who, by the imperfect light, appeared + to be of Spanish extraction. But I evidently miscalculated my own + invisibility; for he moved rapidly forward as I came to the window, and in + a series of the most extraordinary pantomimic gestures saluted me. Beyond + my experience of a few Greek plays in earlier days, I confess I am not an + adept in the understanding of gesticulation; but it struck me that the + various phases of gratitude, fervor, reverence, and exaltation were + successively portrayed. He placed his hands upon his head, his heart, and + even clasped them together in this manner.” To my consternation the + reverend gentleman here imitated Enriquez' most extravagant pantomime. “I + am willing to confess,” he continued, “that I was singularly moved by + them, as well as by the highly creditable and Christian interest that + evidently produced them. At last I opened the window. Leaning out, I told + him that I regretted that the lateness of the hour prevented any further + response from me than a grateful though hurried acknowledgment of his + praiseworthy emotion, but that I should be glad to see him for a few + moments in the vestry before service the next day, or at early + candlelight, before the meeting of the Bible class. I told him that as my + sole purpose had been the creation of an evangelical brotherhood and the + exclusion of merely doctrinal views, nothing could be more gratifying to + me than his spontaneous and unsolicited testimony to my motives. He + appeared for an instant to be deeply affected, and, indeed, quite overcome + with emotion, and then gracefully retired, with some agility and a slight + saltatory movement.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. A sudden and overwhelming idea took possession of me, and I + looked impulsively into his face. Was it possible that for once Enriquez' + ironical extravagance had been understood, met, and vanquished by a master + hand? But the Rev. Mr. Mannersley's self-satisfied face betrayed no + ambiguity or lurking humor. He was evidently in earnest; he had + complacently accepted for himself the abandoned Enriquez' serenade to his + niece. I felt a hysterical desire to laugh, but it was checked by my + companion's next words. + </p> + <p> + “I informed my niece of the occurrence in the morning at breakfast. She + had not heard anything of the strange performance, but she agreed with me + as to its undoubted origin in a grateful recognition of my liberal efforts + toward his coreligionists. It was she, in fact, who suggested that your + knowledge of these people might corroborate my impressions.” + </p> + <p> + I was dumfounded. Had Miss Mannersley, who must have recognized Enriquez' + hand in this, concealed the fact in a desire to shield him? But this was + so inconsistent with her utter indifference to him, except as a grotesque + study, that she would have been more likely to tell her uncle all about + his previous performance. Nor could it be that she wished to conceal her + visit to the fandango. She was far too independent for that, and it was + even possible that the reverend gentleman, in his desire to know more of + Enriquez' compatriots, would not have objected. In my confusion I meekly + added my conviction to hers, congratulated him upon his evident success, + and slipped away. But I was burning with a desire to see Enriquez and know + all. He was imaginative but not untruthful. Unfortunately, I learned that + he was just then following one of his erratic impulses, and had gone to a + rodeo at his cousin's, in the foothills, where he was alternately + exercising his horsemanship in catching and breaking wild cattle and + delighting his relatives with his incomparable grasp of the American + language and customs, and of the airs of a young man of fashion. Then my + thoughts recurred to Miss Mannersley. Had she really been oblivious that + night to Enriquez' serenade? I resolved to find out, if I could, without + betraying Enriquez. Indeed, it was possible, after all, that it might not + have been he. + </p> + <p> + Chance favored me. The next evening I was at a party where Miss + Mannersley, by reason of her position and quality, was a distinguished—I + had almost written a popular—guest. But, as I have formerly stated, + although the youthful fair of the Encinal were flattered by her casual + attentions, and secretly admired her superior style and aristocratic calm, + they were more or less uneasy under the dominance of her intelligence and + education, and were afraid to attempt either confidence or familiarity. + They were also singularly jealous of her, for although the average young + man was equally afraid of her cleverness and her candor, he was not above + paying a tremulous and timid court to her for its effect upon her humbler + sisters. This evening she was surrounded by her usual satellites, + including, of course, the local notables and special guests of + distinction. She had been discussing, I think, the existence of glaciers + on Mount Shasta with a spectacled geologist, and had participated with + charming frankness in a conversation on anatomy with the local doctor and + a learned professor, when she was asked to take a seat at the piano. She + played with remarkable skill and wonderful precision, but coldly and + brilliantly. As she sat there in her subdued but perfectly fitting evening + dress, her regular profile and short but slender neck firmly set upon her + high shoulders, exhaling an atmosphere of refined puritanism and + provocative intelligence, the utter incongruity of Enriquez' extravagant + attentions if ironical, and their equal hopelessness if not, seemed to me + plainer than ever. What had this well-poised, coldly observant spinster to + do with that quaintly ironic ruffler, that romantic cynic, that rowdy Don + Quixote, that impossible Enriquez? Presently she ceased playing. Her slim, + narrow slipper, revealing her thin ankle, remained upon the pedal; her + delicate fingers were resting idly on the keys; her head was slightly + thrown back, and her narrow eyebrows prettily knit toward the ceiling in + an effort of memory. + </p> + <p> + “Something of Chopin's,” suggested the geologist, ardently. + </p> + <p> + “That exquisite sonata!” pleaded the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Suthin' of Rubinstein. Heard him once,” said a gentleman of Siskiyou. “He + just made that pianner get up and howl. Play Rube.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head with parted lips and a slight touch of girlish coquetry + in her manner. Then her fingers suddenly dropped upon the keys with a + glassy tinkle; there were a few quick pizzicato chords, down went the low + pedal with a monotonous strumming, and she presently began to hum to + herself. I started—as well I might—for I recognized one of + Enriquez' favorite and most extravagant guitar solos. It was audacious; it + was barbaric; it was, I fear, vulgar. As I remembered it—as he sang + it—it recounted the adventures of one Don Francisco, a provincial + gallant and roisterer of the most objectionable type. It had one hundred + and four verses, which Enriquez never spared me. I shuddered as in a + pleasant, quiet voice the correct Miss Mannersley warbled in musical + praise of the PELLEJO, or wineskin, and a eulogy of the dicebox came + caressingly from her thin red lips. But the company was far differently + affected: the strange, wild air and wilder accompaniment were evidently + catching; people moved toward the piano; somebody whistled the air from a + distant corner; even the faces of the geologist and doctor brightened. + </p> + <p> + “A tarantella, I presume?” blandly suggested the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mannersley stopped, and rose carelessly from the piano. “It is a + Moorish gypsy song of the fifteenth century,” she said dryly. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed sorter familiar, too,” hesitated one of the young men, timidly, + “like as if—don't you know?—you had without knowing it, don't + you know?”—he blushed slightly—“sorter picked it up + somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “I 'picked it up,' as you call it, in the collection of medieval + manuscripts of the Harvard Library, and copied it,” returned Miss + Mannersley coldly as she turned away. + </p> + <p> + But I was not inclined to let her off so easily. I presently made my way + to her side. “Your uncle was complimentary enough to consult me as to the + meaning of the appearance of a certain exuberant Spanish visitor at his + house the other night.” I looked into her brown eyes, but my own slipped + off her velvety pupils without retaining anything. Then she reinforced her + gaze with a pince-nez, and said carelessly: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you? How are you? Well, could you give him any information?” + </p> + <p> + “Only generally,” I returned, still looking into her eyes. “These people + are impulsive. The Spanish blood is a mixture of gold and quicksilver.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled slightly. “That reminds me of your volatile friend. He was + mercurial enough, certainly. Is he still dancing?” + </p> + <p> + “And singing sometimes,” I responded pointedly. But she only added + casually, “A singular creature,” without exhibiting the least + consciousness, and drifted away, leaving me none the wiser. I felt that + Enriquez alone could enlighten me. I must see him. + </p> + <p> + I did, but not in the way I expected. There was a bullfight at San Antonio + the next Saturday afternoon, the usual Sunday performance being changed in + deference to the Sabbatical habits of the Americans. An additional + attraction was offered in the shape of a bull-and-bear fight, also a + concession to American taste, which had voted the bullfight “slow,” and + had averred that the bull “did not get a fair show.” I am glad that I am + able to spare the reader the usual realistic horrors, for in the + Californian performances there was very little of the brutality that + distinguished this function in the mother country. The horses were not + miserable, worn-out hacks, but young and alert mustangs; and the display + of horsemanship by the picadors was not only wonderful, but secured an + almost absolute safety to horse and rider. I never saw a horse gored; + although unskillful riders were sometimes thrown in wheeling quickly to + avoid the bull's charge, they generally regained their animals without + injury. + </p> + <p> + The Plaza de Toros was reached through the decayed and tile-strewn + outskirts of an old Spanish village. It was a rudely built oval + amphitheater, with crumbling, whitewashed adobe walls, and roofed only + over portions of the gallery reserved for the provincial “notables,” but + now occupied by a few shopkeepers and their wives, with a sprinkling of + American travelers and ranchmen. The impalpable adobe dust of the arena + was being whirled into the air by the strong onset of the afternoon trade + winds, which happily, however, helped also to dissipate a reek of garlic, + and the acrid fumes of cheap tobacco rolled in cornhusk cigarettes. I was + leaning over the second barrier, waiting for the meager and circuslike + procession to enter with the keys of the bull pen, when my attention was + attracted to a movement in the reserved gallery. A lady and gentleman of a + quality that was evidently unfamiliar to the rest of the audience were + picking their way along the rickety benches to a front seat. I recognized + the geologist with some surprise, and the lady he was leading with still + greater astonishment. For it was Miss Mannersley, in her precise, + well-fitting walking-costume—a monotone of sober color among the + parti-colored audience. + </p> + <p> + However, I was perhaps less surprised than the audience, for I was not + only becoming as accustomed to the young girl's vagaries as I had been to + Enriquez' extravagance, but I was also satisfied that her uncle might have + given her permission to come, as a recognition of the Sunday concession of + the management, as well as to conciliate his supposed Catholic friends. I + watched her sitting there until the first bull had entered, and, after a + rather brief play with the picadors and banderilleros, was dispatched. At + the moment when the matador approached the bull with his lethal weapon I + was not sorry for an excuse to glance at Miss Mannersley. Her hands were + in her lap, her head slightly bent forward over her knees. I fancied that + she, too, had dropped her eyes before the brutal situation; to my horror, + I saw that she had a drawing-book in her hand and was actually sketching + it. I turned my eyes in preference to the dying bull. + </p> + <p> + The second animal led out for this ingenious slaughter was, however, more + sullen, uncertain, and discomposing to his butchers. He accepted the irony + of a trial with gloomy, suspicious eyes, and he declined the challenge of + whirling and insulting picadors. He bristled with banderillas like a + hedgehog, but remained with his haunches backed against the barrier, at + times almost hidden in the fine dust raised by the monotonous stroke of + his sullenly pawing hoof—his one dull, heavy protest. A vague + uneasiness had infected his adversaries; the picadors held aloof, the + banderilleros skirmished at a safe distance. The audience resented only + the indecision of the bull. Galling epithets were flung at him, followed + by cries of “ESPADA!” and, curving his elbow under his short cloak, the + matador, with his flashing blade in hand, advanced and—stopped. The + bull remained motionless. + </p> + <p> + For at that moment a heavier gust of wind than usual swept down upon the + arena, lifted a suffocating cloud of dust, and whirled it around the tiers + of benches and the balcony, and for a moment seemed to stop the + performance. I heard an exclamation from the geologist, who had risen to + his feet. I fancied I heard even a faint cry from Miss Mannersley; but the + next moment, as the dust was slowly settling, we saw a sheet of paper in + the air, that had been caught up in this brief cyclone, dropping, dipping + from side to side on uncertain wings, until it slowly descended in the + very middle of the arena. It was a leaf from Miss Mannersley's sketchbook, + the one on which she had been sketching. + </p> + <p> + In the pause that followed it seemed to be the one object that at last + excited the bull's growing but tardy ire. He glanced at it with murky, + distended eyes; he snorted at it with vague yet troubled fury. Whether he + detected his own presentment in Miss Mannersley's sketch, or whether he + recognized it as an unknown and unfamiliar treachery in his surroundings, + I could not conjecture; for the next moment the matador, taking advantage + of the bull's concentration, with a complacent leer at the audience, + advanced toward the paper. But at that instant a young man cleared the + barrier into the arena with a single bound, shoved the matador to one + side, caught up the paper, turned toward the balcony and Miss Mannersley + with a gesture of apology, dropped gaily before the bull, knelt down + before him with an exaggerated humility, and held up the drawing as if for + his inspection. A roar of applause broke from the audience, a cry of + warning and exasperation from the attendants, as the goaded bull suddenly + charged the stranger. But he sprang to one side with great dexterity, made + a courteous gesture to the matador as if passing the bull over to him, and + still holding the paper in his hand, re-leaped the barrier, and rejoined + the audience in safety. I did not wait to see the deadly, dominant thrust + with which the matador received the charging bull; my eyes were following + the figure now bounding up the steps to the balcony, where with an + exaggerated salutation he laid the drawing in Miss Mannersley's lap and + vanished. There was no mistaking that thin lithe form, the narrow black + mustache, and gravely dancing eyes. The audacity of conception, the + extravagance of execution, the quaint irony of the sequel, could belong to + no one but Enriquez. + </p> + <p> + I hurried up to her as the six yoked mules dragged the carcass of the bull + away. She was placidly putting up her book, the unmoved focus of a hundred + eager and curious eyes. She smiled slightly as she saw me. “I was just + telling Mr. Briggs what an extraordinary creature it was, and how you knew + him. He must have had great experience to do that sort of thing so + cleverly and safely. Does he do it often? Of course, not just that. But + does he pick up cigars and things that I see they throw to the matador? + Does he belong to the management? Mr. Briggs thinks the whole thing was a + feint to distract the bull,” she added, with a wicked glance at the + geologist, who, I fancied, looked disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” I said dryly, “that his act was as unpremeditated and + genuine as it was unusual.” + </p> + <p> + “Why afraid?” + </p> + <p> + It was a matter-of-fact question, but I instantly saw my mistake. What + right had I to assume that Enriquez' attentions were any more genuine than + her own easy indifference; and if I suspected that they were, was it fair + in me to give my friend away to this heartless coquette? “You are not very + gallant,” she said, with a slight laugh, as I was hesitating, and turned + away with her escort before I could frame a reply. But at least Enriquez + was now accessible, and I should gain some information from him. I knew + where to find him, unless he were still lounging about the building, + intent upon more extravagance; but I waited until I saw Miss Mannersley + and Briggs depart without further interruption. + </p> + <p> + The hacienda of Ramon Saltillo, Enriquez' cousin, was on the outskirts of + the village. When I arrived there I found Enriquez' pinto mustang steaming + in the corral, and although I was momentarily delayed by the servants at + the gateway, I was surprised to find Enriquez himself lying languidly on + his back in a hammock in the patio. His arms were hanging down listlessly + on each side as if in the greatest prostration, yet I could not resist the + impression that the rascal had only just got into the hammock when he + heard of my arrival. + </p> + <p> + “You have arrived, friend Pancho, in time,” he said, in accents of + exaggerated weakness. “I am absolutely exhaust. I am bursted, caved in, + kerflummoxed. I have behold you, my friend, at the barrier. I speak not, I + make no sign at the first, because I was on fire; I speak not at the + feenish—for I am exhaust.” + </p> + <p> + “I see; the bull made it lively for you.” + </p> + <p> + He instantly bounded up in the hammock. “The bull! Caramba! Not a thousand + bulls! And thees one, look you, was a craven. I snap my fingers over his + horn; I roll my cigarette under his nose.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—what was it?” + </p> + <p> + He instantly lay down again, pulling up the sides of the hammock. + Presently his voice came from its depths, appealing in hollow tones to the + sky. “He asks me—thees friend of my soul, thees brother of my life, + thees Pancho that I lofe—what it was? He would that I should tell + him why I am game in the legs, why I shake in the hand, crack in the + voice, and am generally wipe out! And yet he, my pardner—thees + Francisco—know that I have seen the mees from Boston! That I have + gaze into the eye, touch the hand, and for the instant possess the picture + that hand have drawn! It was a sublime picture, Pancho,” he said, sitting + up again suddenly, “and have kill the bull before our friend Pepe's sword + have touch even the bone of hees back and make feenish of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Enriquez,” I said bluntly, “have you been serenading that + girl?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders without the least embarrassment, and said: “Ah, + yes. What would you? It is of a necessity.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I retorted, “then you ought to know that her uncle took it all to + himself—thought you some grateful Catholic pleased with his + religious tolerance.” + </p> + <p> + He did not even smile. “BUENO,” he said gravely. “That make something, + too. In thees affair it is well to begin with the duenna. He is the + duenna.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” I went on relentlessly, “her escort told her just now that your + exploit in the bull ring was only a trick to divert the bull, suggested by + the management.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! her escort is a geologian. Naturally, she is to him as a stone.” + </p> + <p> + I would have continued, but a peon interrupted us at this moment with a + sign to Enriquez, who leaped briskly from the hammock, bidding me wait his + return from a messenger in the gateway. + </p> + <p> + Still unsatisfied of mind, I waited, and sat down in the hammock that + Enriquez had quitted. A scrap of paper was lying in its meshes, which at + first appeared to be of the kind from which Enriquez rolled his + cigarettes; but as I picked it up to throw it away, I found it was of much + firmer and stouter material. Looking at it more closely, I was surprised + to recognize it as a piece of the tinted drawing-paper torn off the + “block” that Miss Mannersley had used. It had been deeply creased at right + angles as if it had been folded; it looked as if it might have been the + outer half of a sheet used for a note. + </p> + <p> + It might have been a trifling circumstance, but it greatly excited my + curiosity. I knew that he had returned the sketch to Miss Mannersley, for + I had seen it in her hand. Had she given him another? And if so, why had + it been folded to the destruction of the drawing? Or was it part of a note + which he had destroyed? In the first impulse of discovery I walked quickly + with it toward the gateway where Enriquez had disappeared, intending to + restore it to him. He was just outside talking with a young girl. I + started, for it was Jocasta—Miss Mannersley's maid. + </p> + <p> + With this added discovery came that sense of uneasiness and indignation + with which we illogically are apt to resent the withholding of a friend's + confidence, even in matters concerning only himself. It was no use for me + to reason that it was no business of mine, that he was right in keeping a + secret that concerned another—and a lady; but I was afraid I was + even more meanly resentful because the discovery quite upset my theory of + his conduct and of Miss Mannersley's attitude toward him. I continued to + walk on to the gateway, where I bade Enriquez a hurried good-by, alleging + the sudden remembrance of another engagement, but without appearing to + recognize the girl, who was moving away when, to my further discomfiture, + the rascal stopped me with an appealing wink, threw his arms around my + neck, whispered hoarsely in my ear, “Ah! you see—you comprehend—but + you are the mirror of discretion!” and returned to Jocasta. But whether + this meant that he had received a message from Miss Mannersley, or that he + was trying to suborn her maid to carry one, was still uncertain. He was + capable of either. During the next two or three weeks I saw him + frequently; but as I had resolved to try the effect of ignoring Miss + Mannersley in our conversation, I gathered little further of their + relations, and, to my surprise, after one or two characteristic + extravagances of allusion, Enriquez dropped the subject, too. Only one + afternoon, as we were parting, he said carelessly: “My friend, you are + going to the casa of Mannersley tonight. I too have the honor of the + invitation. But you will be my Mercury—my Leporello—you will + take of me a message to thees Mees Boston, that I am crushed, desolated, + prostrate, and flabbergasted—that I cannot arrive, for I have of + that night to sit up with the grand-aunt of my brother-in-law, who has a + quinsy to the death. It is sad.” + </p> + <p> + This was the first indication I had received of Miss Mannersley's + advances. I was equally surprised at Enriquez' refusal. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” I said bluntly. “Nothing keeps you from going.” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” returned Enriquez, with a sudden lapse into languishment that + seemed to make him absolutely infirm, “it is everything that shall + restrain me. I am not strong. I shall become weak of the knee and tremble + under the eye of Mees Boston. I shall precipitate myself to the geologian + by the throat. Ask me another conundrum that shall be easy.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed idiotically inflexible, and did not go. But I did. I found Miss + Mannersley exquisitely dressed and looking singularly animated and pretty. + The lambent glow of her inscrutable eye as she turned toward me might have + been flattering but for my uneasiness in regard to Enriquez. I delivered + his excuses as naturally as I could. She stiffened for an instant, and + seemed an inch higher. “I am so sorry,” she said at last in a level voice. + “I thought he would have been so amusing. Indeed, I had hoped we might try + an old Moorish dance together which I have found and was practicing.” + </p> + <p> + “He would have been delighted, I know. It's a great pity he didn't come + with me,” I said quickly; “but,” I could not help adding, with emphasis on + her words, “he is such an 'extraordinary creature,' you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I see nothing extraordinary in his devotion to an aged relative,” + returned Miss Mannersley quietly as she turned away, “except that it + justifies my respect for his character.” + </p> + <p> + I do not know why I did not relate this to him. Possibly I had given up + trying to understand them; perhaps I was beginning to have an idea that he + could take care of himself. But I was somewhat surprised a few days later + when, after asking me to go with him to a rodeo at his uncle's he added + composedly, “You will meet Mees Boston.” + </p> + <p> + I stared, and but for his manner would have thought it part of his + extravagance. For the rodeo—a yearly chase of wild cattle for the + purpose of lassoing and branding them—was a rather brutal affair, + and purely a man's function; it was also a family affair—a property + stock-taking of the great Spanish cattle-owners—and strangers, + particularly Americans, found it difficult to gain access to its mysteries + and the fiesta that followed. + </p> + <p> + “But how did she get an invitation?” I asked. “You did not dare to ask—” + I began. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” said Enriquez, with a singular deliberation, “the great and + respectable Boston herself, and her serene, venerable oncle, and other + Boston magnificos, have of a truth done me the inexpressible honor to + solicit of my degraded, papistical oncle that she shall come—that + she shall of her own superior eye behold the barbaric customs of our + race.” + </p> + <p> + His tone and manner were so peculiar that I stepped quickly before him, + laid my hands on his shoulders, and looked down into his face. But the + actual devil which I now for the first time saw in his eyes went out of + them suddenly, and he relapsed again in affected languishment in his + chair. “I shall be there, friend Pancho,” he said, with a preposterous + gasp. “I shall nerve my arm to lasso the bull, and tumble him before her + at her feet. I shall throw the 'buck-jump' mustang at the same sacred + spot. I shall pluck for her the buried chicken at full speed from the + ground, and present it to her. You shall see it, friend Pancho. I shall be + there.” + </p> + <p> + He was as good as his word. When Don Pedro Amador, his uncle, installed + Miss Mannersley, with Spanish courtesy, on a raised platform in the long + valley where the rodeo took place, the gallant Enriquez selected a bull + from the frightened and galloping herd, and, cleverly isolating him from + the band, lassoed his hind legs, and threw him exactly before the platform + where Miss Mannersley was seated. It was Enriquez who caught the unbroken + mustang, sprang from his own saddle to the bare back of his captive, and + with the lasso for a bridle, halted him on rigid haunches at Miss + Mannersley's feet. It was Enriquez who, in the sports that followed, + leaned from his saddle at full speed, caught up the chicken buried to its + head in the sand, without wringing its neck, and tossed it unharmed and + fluttering toward his mistress. As for her, she wore the same look of + animation that I had seen in her face at our previous meeting. Although + she did not bring her sketchbook with her, as at the bullfight, she did + not shrink from the branding of the cattle, which took place under her + very eyes. + </p> + <p> + Yet I had never seen her and Enriquez together; they had never, to my + actual knowledge, even exchanged words. And now, although she was the + guest of his uncle, his duties seemed to keep him in the field, and apart + from her. Nor, as far as I could detect, did either apparently make any + effort to have it otherwise. The peculiar circumstance seemed to attract + no attention from anyone else. But for what I alone knew—or thought + I knew—of their actual relations, I should have thought them + strangers. + </p> + <p> + But I felt certain that the fiesta which took place in the broad patio of + Don Pedro's casa would bring them together. And later in the evening, as + we were all sitting on the veranda watching the dancing of the Mexican + women, whose white-flounced sayas were monotonously rising and falling to + the strains of two melancholy harps, Miss Mannersley rejoined us from the + house. She seemed to be utterly absorbed and abstracted in the barbaric + dances, and scarcely moved as she leaned over the railing with her cheek + resting on her hand. Suddenly she arose with a little cry. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked two or three. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—only I have lost my fan.” She had risen, and was looking + abstractedly on the floor. + </p> + <p> + Half a dozen men jumped to their feet. “Let me fetch it,” they said. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. I think I know where it is, and will go for it myself.” + She was moving away. + </p> + <p> + But Don Pedro interposed with Spanish gravity. Such a thing was not to be + heard of in his casa. If the senorita would not permit HIM—an old + man—to go for it, it must be brought by Enriquez, her cavalier of + the day. + </p> + <p> + But Enriquez was not to be found. I glanced at Miss Mannersley's somewhat + disturbed face, and begged her to let me fetch it. I thought I saw a flush + of relief come into her pale cheek as she said, in a lower voice, “On the + stone seat in the garden.” + </p> + <p> + I hurried away, leaving Don Pedro still protesting. I knew the gardens, + and the stone seat at an angle of the wall, not a dozen yards from the + casa. The moon shone full upon it. There, indeed, lay the little + gray-feathered fan. But beside it, also, lay the crumpled black + gold-embroidered riding-gauntlet that Enriquez had worn at the rodeo. + </p> + <p> + I thrust it hurriedly into my pocket, and ran back. As I passed through + the gateway I asked a peon to send Enriquez to me. The man stared. Did I + not know that Don Enriquez had ridden away two minutes ago? + </p> + <p> + When I reached the veranda, I handed the fan to Miss Mannersley without a + word. “BUENO,” said Don Pedro, gravely; “it is as well. There shall be no + bones broken over the getting of it, for Enriquez, I hear, has had to + return to the Encinal this very evening.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mannersley retired early. I did not inform her of my discovery, nor + did I seek in any way to penetrate her secret. There was no doubt that she + and Enriquez had been together, perhaps not for the first time; but what + was the result of their interview? From the young girl's demeanor and + Enriquez' hurried departure, I could only fear the worst for him. Had he + been tempted into some further extravagance and been angrily rebuked, or + had he avowed a real passion concealed under his exaggerated mask and been + deliberately rejected? I tossed uneasily half the night, following in my + dreams my poor friend's hurrying hoofbeats, and ever starting from my + sleep at what I thought was the sound of galloping hoofs. + </p> + <p> + I rose early, and lounged into the patio; but others were there before me, + and a small group of Don Pedro's family were excitedly discussing + something, and I fancied they turned away awkwardly and consciously as I + approached. There was an air of indefinite uneasiness everywhere. A + strange fear came over me with the chill of the early morning air. Had + anything happened to Enriquez? I had always looked upon his extravagance + as part of his playful humor. Could it be possible that under the sting of + rejection he had made his grotesque threat of languishing effacement real? + Surely Miss Mannersley would know or suspect something, if it were the + case. + </p> + <p> + I approached one of the Mexican women and asked if the senorita had risen. + The woman started, and looked covertly round before she replied. Did not + Don Pancho know that Miss Mannersley and her maid had not slept in their + beds that night, but had gone, none knew where? + </p> + <p> + For an instant I felt an appalling sense of my own responsibility in this + suddenly serious situation, and hurried after the retreating family group. + But as I entered the corridor a vaquero touched me on the shoulder. He had + evidently just dismounted, and was covered with the dust of the road. He + handed me a note written in pencil on a leaf from Miss Mannersley's + sketchbook. It was in Enriquez' hand, and his signature was followed by + his most extravagant rubric. + </p> + <p> + Friend Pancho: When you read this line you shall of a possibility think I + am no more. That is where you shall slip up, my little brother! I am much + more—I am two times as much, for I have marry Miss Boston. At the + Mission Church, at five of the morning, sharp! No cards shall be left! I + kiss the hand of my venerable uncle-in-law. You shall say to him that we + fly to the South wilderness as the combined evangelical missionary to the + heathen! Miss Boston herself say this. Ta-ta! How are you now? + </p> + <p> + Your own Enriquez. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Selected Stories, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SELECTED STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 1312-h.htm or 1312-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/1312/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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