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diff --git a/2508-h/2508-h.htm b/2508-h/2508-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16d977d --- /dev/null +++ b/2508-h/2508-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7480 @@ +<?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> + Stories in Light and Shadow, by 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 Stories in Light and Shadow, 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: Stories in Light and Shadow + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 18, 2006 [EBook #2508] +Last Updated: March 4, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Bret Harte + </h2> + <p> + From: “ARGONAUT EDITION” OF THE WORKS OF BRET HARTE, VOL. 13 <br /> <br /> + P. F. COLLIER & SON <br /> <br /> NEW YORK <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> “UNSER KARL” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> SEE YUP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE DESBOROUGH CONNECTIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> SALOMY JANE'S KISS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE MAN AND THE MOUNTAIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE PASSING OF ENRIQUEZ </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “UNSER KARL” + </h2> + <p> + The American consul for Schlachtstadt had just turned out of the broad + Konig's Allee into the little square that held his consulate. Its + residences always seemed to him to wear that singularly uninhabited air + peculiar to a street scene in a theatre. The facades, with their stiff, + striped wooden awnings over the windows, were of the regularity, color, + and pattern only seen on the stage, and conversation carried on in the + street below always seemed to be invested with that perfect confidence and + security which surrounds the actor in his painted desert of urban + perspective. Yet it was a peaceful change to the other byways and highways + of Schlachtstadt which were always filled with an equally unreal and + mechanical soldiery, who appeared to be daily taken out of their boxes of + “caserne” or “depot” and loosely scattered all over the pretty + linden-haunted German town. There were soldiers standing on street + corners; soldiers staring woodenly into shop windows; soldiers halted + suddenly into stone, like lizards, at the approach of Offiziere; Offiziere + lounging stiffly four abreast, sweeping the pavement with their trailing + sabres all at one angle. There were cavalcades of red hussars, cavalcades + of blue hussars, cavalcades of Uhlans, with glittering lances and pennons—with + or without a band—formally parading; there were straggling + “fatigues” or “details” coming round the corners; there were dusty, + businesslike columns of infantry, going nowhere and to no purpose. And + they one and all seemed to be WOUND UP—for that service—and + apparently always in the same place. In the band of their caps—invariably + of one pattern—was a button, in the centre of which was a square + opening or keyhole. The consul was always convinced that through this + keyhole opening, by means of a key, the humblest caporal wound up his + file, the Hauptmann controlled his lieutenants and non-commissioned + officers, and even the general himself, wearing the same cap, was subject + through his cap to a higher moving power. In the suburbs, when the supply + of soldiers gave out, there were sentry-boxes; when these dropped off, + there were “caissons,” or commissary wagons. And, lest the military idea + should ever fail from out the Schlachtstadt's burgher's mind, there were + police in uniform, street-sweepers in uniform; the ticket-takers, guards, + and sweepers at the Bahnhof were in uniform,—but all wearing the + same kind of cap, with the probability of having been wound up freshly + each morning for their daily work. Even the postman delivered peaceful + invoices to the consul with his side-arms and the air of bringing + dispatches from the field of battle; and the consul saluted, and felt for + a few moments the whole weight of his consular responsibility. + </p> + <p> + Yet, in spite of this military precedence, it did not seem in the least + inconsistent with the decidedly peaceful character of the town, and this + again suggested its utter unreality; wandering cows sometimes got mixed up + with squadrons of cavalry, and did not seem to mind it; sheep passed + singly between files of infantry, or preceded them in a flock when on the + march; indeed, nothing could be more delightful and innocent than to see a + regiment of infantry in heavy marching order, laden with every conceivable + thing they could want for a week, returning after a cheerful search for an + invisible enemy in the suburbs, to bivouac peacefully among the cabbages + in the market-place. Nobody was ever imposed upon for a moment by their + tremendous energy and severe display; drums might beat, trumpets blow, + dragoons charge furiously all over the Exercier Platz, or suddenly flash + their naked swords in the streets to the guttural command of an officer—nobody + seemed to mind it. People glanced up to recognize Rudolf or Max “doing + their service,” nodded, and went about their business. And although the + officers always wore their side-arms, and at the most peaceful of social + dinners only relinquished their swords in the hall, apparently that they + might be ready to buckle them on again and rush out to do battle for the + Fatherland between the courses, the other guests only looked upon these + weapons in the light of sticks and umbrellas, and possessed their souls in + peace. And when, added to this singular incongruity, many of these + warriors were spectacled, studious men, and, despite their lethal weapons, + wore a slightly professional air, and were—to a man—deeply + sentimental and singularly simple, their attitude in this eternal + Kriegspiel seemed to the consul more puzzling than ever. + </p> + <p> + As he entered his consulate he was confronted with another aspect of + Schlachtstadt quite as wonderful, yet already familiar to him. For, in + spite of these “alarums without,” which, however, never seem to penetrate + beyond the town itself, Schlachtstadt and its suburbs were known all over + the world for the manufactures of certain beautiful textile fabrics, and + many of the rank and file of those warriors had built up the fame and + prosperity of the district over their peaceful looms in wayside cottages. + There were great depots and counting-houses, larger than even the cavalry + barracks, where no other uniform but that of the postman was known. Hence + it was that the consul's chief duty was to uphold the flag of his own + country by the examination and certification of divers invoices sent to + his office by the manufacturers. But, oddly enough, these business + messengers were chiefly women,—not clerks, but ordinary household + servants, and, on busy days, the consulate might have been mistaken for a + female registry office, so filled and possessed it was by waiting Madchen. + Here it was that Gretchen, Lieschen, and Clarchen, in the cleanest of blue + gowns, and stoutly but smartly shod, brought their invoices in a piece of + clean paper, or folded in a blue handkerchief, and laid them, with fingers + more or less worn and stubby from hard service, before the consul for his + signature. Once, in the case of a very young Madchen, that signature was + blotted by the sweep of a flaxen braid upon it as the child turned to go; + but generally there was a grave, serious business instinct and sense of + responsibility in these girls of ordinary peasant origin which, equally + with their sisters of France, were unknown to the English or American + woman of any class. + </p> + <p> + That morning, however, there was a slight stir among those who, with their + knitting, were waiting their turn in the outer office as the vice-consul + ushered the police inspector into the consul's private office. He was in + uniform, of course, and it took him a moment to recover from his habitual + stiff, military salute,—a little stiffer than that of the actual + soldier. + </p> + <p> + It was a matter of importance! A stranger had that morning been arrested + in the town and identified as a military deserter. He claimed to be an + American citizen; he was now in the outer office, waiting the consul's + interrogation. + </p> + <p> + The consul knew, however, that the ominous accusation had only a mild + significance here. The term “military deserter” included any one who had + in youth emigrated to a foreign country without first fulfilling his + military duty to his fatherland. His first experiences of these cases had + been tedious and difficult,—involving a reference to his Minister at + Berlin, a correspondence with the American State Department, a condition + of unpleasant tension, and finally the prolonged detention of some + innocent German—naturalized—American citizen, who had + forgotten to bring his papers with him in revisiting his own native + country. It so chanced, however, that the consul enjoyed the friendship + and confidence of the General Adlerkreutz, who commanded the 20th + Division, and it further chanced that the same Adlerkreutz was as gallant + a soldier as ever cried Vorwarts! at the head of his men, as profound a + military strategist and organizer as ever carried his own and his enemy's + plans in his iron head and spiked helmet, and yet with as simple and + unaffected a soul breathing under his gray mustache as ever issued from + the lips of a child. So this grim but gentle veteran had arranged with the + consul that in cases where the presumption of nationality was strong, + although the evidence was not present, he would take the consul's parole + for the appearance of the “deserter” or his papers, without the aid of + prolonged diplomacy. In this way the consul had saved to Milwaukee a + worthy but imprudent brewer, and to New York an excellent sausage butcher + and possible alderman; but had returned to martial duty one or two tramps + or journeymen who had never seen America except from the decks of the + ships in which they were “stowaways,” and on which they were returned,—and + thus the temper and peace of two great nations were preserved. + </p> + <p> + “He says,” said the inspector severely, “that he is an American citizen, + but has lost his naturalization papers. Yet he has made the damaging + admission to others that he lived several years in Rome! And,” continued + the inspector, looking over his shoulder at the closed door as he placed + his finger beside his nose, “he says he has relations living at Palmyra, + whom he frequently visited. Ach! Observe this + unheard-of-and-not-to-be-trusted statement!” + </p> + <p> + The consul, however, smiled with a slight flash of intelligence. “Let me + see him,” he said. + </p> + <p> + They passed into the outer office; another policeman and a corporal of + infantry saluted and rose. In the centre of an admiring and sympathetic + crowd of Dienstmadchen sat the culprit, the least concerned of the party; + a stripling—a boy—scarcely out of his teens! Indeed, it was + impossible to conceive of a more innocent, bucolic, and almost angelic + looking derelict. With a skin that had the peculiar white and rosiness of + fresh pork, he had blue eyes, celestially wide open and staring, and the + thick flocculent yellow curls of the sun god! He might have been an + overgrown and badly dressed Cupid who had innocently wandered from Paphian + shores. He smiled as the consul entered, and wiped from his full red lips + with the back of his hand the traces of a sausage he was eating. The + consul recognized the flavor at once,—he had smelled it before in + Lieschen's little hand-basket. + </p> + <p> + “You say you lived at Rome?” began the consul pleasantly. “Did you take + out your first declaration of your intention of becoming an American + citizen there?” + </p> + <p> + The inspector cast an approving glance at the consul, fixed a stern eye on + the cherubic prisoner, and leaned back in his chair to hear the reply to + this terrible question. + </p> + <p> + “I don't remember,” said the culprit, knitting his brows in infantine + thought. “It was either there, or at Madrid or Syracuse.” + </p> + <p> + The inspector was about to rise; this was really trifling with the dignity + of the municipality. But the consul laid his hand on the official's + sleeve, and, opening an American atlas to a map of the State of New York, + said to the prisoner, as he placed the inspector's hand on the sheet, “I + see you know the names of the TOWNS on the Erie and New York Central + Railroad. But”— + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you the number of people in each town and what are the + manufactures,” interrupted the young fellow, with youthful vanity. “Madrid + has six thousand, and there are over sixty thousand in”— + </p> + <p> + “That will do,” said the consul, as a murmur of Wunderschon! went round + the group of listening servant girls, while glances of admiration were + shot at the beaming accused. “But you ought to remember the name of the + town where your naturalization papers were afterwards sent.” + </p> + <p> + “But I was a citizen from the moment I made my declaration,” said the + stranger smiling, and looking triumphantly at his admirers, “and I could + vote!” + </p> + <p> + The inspector, since he had come to grief over American geographical + nomenclature, was grimly taciturn. The consul, however, was by no means + certain of his victory. His alleged fellow citizen was too encyclopaedic + in his knowledge: a clever youth might have crammed for this with a + textbook, but then he did not LOOK at all clever; indeed, he had rather + the stupidity of the mythological subject he represented. “Leave him with + me,” said the consul. The inspector handed him a precis of the case. The + cherub's name was Karl Schwartz, an orphan, missing from Schlachtstadt + since the age of twelve. Relations not living, or in emigration. Identity + established by prisoner's admission and record. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Karl,” said the consul cheerfully, as the door of his private office + closed upon them, “what is your little game? Have you EVER had any papers? + And if you were clever enough to study the map of New York State, why + weren't you clever enough to see that it wouldn't stand you in place of + your papers?” + </p> + <p> + “Dot's joost it,” said Karl in English; “but you see dot if I haf + declairet mine intention of begomming a citizen, it's all the same, don't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “By no means, for you seem to have no evidence of the DECLARATION; no + papers at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Zo!” said Karl. Nevertheless, he pushed his small, rosy, + pickled-pig's-feet of fingers through his fleecy curls and beamed + pleasantly at the consul. “Dot's vot's der matter,” he said, as if taking + a kindly interest in some private trouble of the consul's. “Dot's vere you + vos, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The consul looked steadily at him for a moment. Such stupidity was by no + means phenomenal, nor at all inconsistent with his appearance. “And,” + continued the consul gravely, “I must tell you that, unless you have other + proofs than you have shown, it will be my duty to give you up to the + authorities.” + </p> + <p> + “Dot means I shall serve my time, eh?” said Karl, with an unchanged smile. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” returned the consul. + </p> + <p> + “Zo!” said karl. “Dese town—dose Schlachtstadt—is fine town, + eh? Fine vomens. Goot men. Und beer und sausage. Blenty to eat and drink, + eh? Und,” looking around the room, “you and te poys haf a gay times.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the consul shortly, turning away. But he presently faced round + again on the unfettered Karl, who was evidently indulging in a + gormandizing reverie. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth brought you here, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Was it das?” + </p> + <p> + “What brought you here from America, or wherever you ran away from?” + </p> + <p> + “To see der, volks.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are an ORPHAN, you know, and you have no folks living here.” + </p> + <p> + “But all Shermany is mine volks,—de whole gountry, don't it? Pet + your poots! How's dot, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The consul turned back to his desk and wrote a short note to General + Adlerkreutz in his own American German. He did not think it his duty in + the present case to interfere with the authorities or to offer his parole + for Karl Schwartz. But he would claim that, as the offender was evidently + an innocent emigrant and still young, any punishment or military + degradation be omitted, and he be allowed to take his place like any other + recruit in the ranks. If he might have the temerity to the undoubted, + far-seeing military authority of suggestion making here, he would suggest + that Karl was for the commissariat fitted! Of course, he still retained + the right, on production of satisfactory proof, his discharge to claim. + </p> + <p> + The consul read this aloud to Karl. The cherubic youth smiled and said, + “Zo!” Then, extending his hand, he added the word “Zshake!” + </p> + <p> + The consul shook his hand a little remorsefully, and, preceding him to the + outer room, resigned him with the note into the inspector's hands. A + universal sigh went up from the girls, and glances of appeal sought the + consul; but he wisely concluded that it would be well, for a while, that + Karl—a helpless orphan—should be under some sort of + discipline! And the securer business of certifying invoices recommenced. + </p> + <p> + Late that afternoon he received a folded bit of blue paper from the + waistbelt of an orderly, which contained in English characters and as a + single word “Alright,” followed by certain jagged pen-marks, which he + recognized as Adlerkreutz's signature. But it was not until a week later + that he learned anything definite. He was returning one night to his + lodgings in the residential part of the city, and, in opening the door + with his pass-key, perceived in the rear of the hall his handmaiden + Trudschen, attended by the usual blue or yellow or red shadow. He was + passing by them with the local 'n' Abend! on his lips when the soldier + turned his face and saluted. The consul stopped. It was the cherub Karl in + uniform! + </p> + <p> + But it had not subdued a single one of his characteristics. His hair had + been cropped a little more closely under his cap, but there was its color + and woolliness still intact; his plump figure was girt by belt and + buttons, but he only looked the more unreal, and more like a combination + of pen-wiper and pincushion, until his puffy breast and shoulders seemed + to offer a positive invitation to any one who had picked up a pin. But, + wonderful!—according to his brief story—he had been so + proficient in the goose step that he had been put in uniform already, and + allowed certain small privileges,—among them, evidently the present + one. The consul smiled and passed on. But it seemed strange to him that + Trudschen, who was a tall strapping girl, exceedingly popular with the + military, and who had never looked lower than a corporal at least, should + accept the attentions of an Einjahriger like that. Later he interrogated + her. + </p> + <p> + Ach! it was only Unser Karl! And the consul knew he was Amerikanisch! + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! It was such a tearful story!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what it is,” said the consul, with a faint hope that Karl had + volunteered some communication of his past. + </p> + <p> + “Ach Gott! There in America he was a man, and could 'vote,' make laws, + and, God willing, become a town councilor,—or Ober Intendant,—and + here he was nothing but a soldier for years. And this America was a fine + country. Wunderschon? There were such big cities, and one 'Booflo'—could + hold all Schlachtstadt, and had of people five hundred thousand!” + </p> + <p> + The consul sighed. Karl had evidently not yet got off the line of the New + York Central and Erie roads. “But does he remember yet what he did with + his papers?” said the consul persuasively. + </p> + <p> + “Ach! What does he want with PAPERS when he could make the laws? They were + dumb, stupid things—these papers—to him.” + </p> + <p> + “But his appetite remains good, I hope?” suggested the consul. + </p> + <p> + This closed the conversation, although Karl came on many other nights, and + his toy figure quite supplanted the tall corporal of hussars in the remote + shadows of the hall. One night, however, the consul returned home from a + visit to a neighboring town a day earlier than he was expected. As he + neared his house he was a little surprised to find the windows of his + sitting-room lit up, and that there were no signs of Trudschen in the + lower hall or passages. He made his way upstairs in the dark and pushed + open the door of his apartment. To his astonishment, Karl was sitting + comfortably in his own chair, his cap off before a student-lamp on the + table, deeply engaged in apparent study. So profound was his abstraction + that it was a moment before he looked up, and the consul had a good look + at his usually beaming and responsive face, which, however, now struck him + as wearing a singular air of thought and concentration. When their eyes at + last met, he rose instantly and saluted, and his beaming smile returned. + But, either from his natural phlegm or extraordinary self-control he + betrayed neither embarrassment nor alarm. + </p> + <p> + The explanation he gave was direct and simple. Trudschen had gone out with + the Corporal Fritz for a short walk, and had asked him to “keep house” + during their absence. He had no books, no papers, nothing to read in the + barracks, and no chance to improve his mind. He thought the Herr Consul + would not object to his looking at his books. The consul was touched; it + was really a trivial indiscretion and as much Trudschen's fault as Karl's! + And if the poor fellow had any mind to improve,—his recent attitude + certainly suggested thought and reflection,—the consul were a brute + to reprove him. He smiled pleasantly as Karl returned a stubby bit of + pencil and some greasy memoranda to his breast pocket, and glanced at the + table. But to his surprise it was a large map that Karl had been studying, + and, to his still greater surprise, a map of the consul's own district. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be fond of map-studying,” said the consul pleasantly. “You + are not thinking of emigrating again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, no!” said Karl simply; “it is my cousine vot haf lif near here. I + find her.” + </p> + <p> + But he left on Trudschen's return, and the consul was surprised to see + that, while Karl's attitude towards her had not changed, the girl + exhibited less effusiveness than before. Believing it to be partly the + effect of the return of the corporal, the consul taxed her with + faithlessness. But Trudschen looked grave. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! He has new friends, this Karl of ours. He cares no more for poor + girls like us. When fine ladies like the old Frau von Wimpfel make much of + him, what will you?” + </p> + <p> + It appeared, indeed, from Trudschen's account, that the widow of a wealthy + shopkeeper had made a kind of protege of the young soldier, and given him + presents. Furthermore, that the wife of his colonel had employed him to + act as page or attendant at an afternoon Gesellschaft, and that since then + the wives of other officers had sought him. Did not the Herr Consul think + it was dreadful that this American, who could vote and make laws, should + be subjected to such things? + </p> + <p> + The consul did not know what to think. It seemed to him, however, that + Karl was “getting on,” and that he was not in need of his assistance. It + was in the expectation of hearing more about him, however, that he + cheerfully accepted an invitation from Adlerkreutz to dine at the Caserne + one evening with the staff. Here he found, somewhat to his embarrassment, + that the dinner was partly in his own honor, and at the close of five + courses, and the emptying of many bottles, his health was proposed by the + gallant veteran Adlerkreutz in a neat address of many syllables containing + all the parts of speech and a single verb. It was to the effect that in + his soul-friend the Herr Consul and himself was the never-to-be-severed + union of Germania and Columbia, and in their perfect understanding was the + war-defying alliance of two great nations, and that in the consul's noble + restoration of Unser Karl to the German army there was the astute + diplomacy of a great mind. He was satisfied that himself and the Herr + Consul still united in the great future, looking down upon a common + brotherhood,—the great Germanic-American Confederation,—would + feel satisfied with themselves and each other and their + never-to-be-forgotten earth-labors. Cries of “Hoch! Hoch!” resounded + through the apartment with the grinding roll of heavy-bottomed + beer-glasses, and the consul, tremulous with emotion and a reserve verb in + his pocket, rose to reply. Fully embarked upon this perilous voyage, and + steering wide and clear of any treacherous shore of intelligence or + fancied harbor of understanding and rest, he kept boldly out at sea. He + said that, while his loving adversary in this battle of compliment had + disarmed him and left him no words to reply to his generous panegyric, he + could not but join with that gallant soldier in his heartfelt aspirations + for the peaceful alliance of both countries. But while he fully + reciprocated all his host's broader and higher sentiments, he must point + out to this gallant assembly, this glorious brotherhood, that even a + greater tie of sympathy knitted him to the general,—the tie of + kinship! For while it was well known to the present company that their + gallant commander had married an Englishwoman, he, the consul, although + always an American, would now for the first time confess to them that he + HIMSELF was of Dutch descent on his mother's side! He would say no more, + but confidently leave them in possession of the tremendous significance of + this until-then-unknown fact! He sat down, with the forgotten verb still + in his pocket, but the applause that followed this perfectly conclusive, + satisfying, and logical climax convinced him of his success. His hand was + grasped eagerly by successive warriors; the general turned and embraced + him before the breathless assembly; there were tears in the consul's eyes. + </p> + <p> + As the festivities progressed, however, he found to his surprise that Karl + had not only become the fashion as a military page, but that his naive + stupidity and sublime simplicity was the wondering theme and inexhaustible + delight of the whole barracks. Stories were told of his genius for + blundering which rivaled Handy Andy's; old stories of fatuous ignorance + were rearranged and fitted to “our Karl.” It was “our Karl” who, on + receiving a tip of two marks from the hands of a young lady to whom he had + brought the bouquet of a gallant lieutenant, exhibited some hesitation, + and finally said, “Yes, but, gnadiges Fraulein, that COST us nine marks!” + It was “our Karl” who, interrupting the regrets of another lady that she + was unable to accept his master's invitation, said politely, “Ah! what + matter, Gnadigste? I have still a letter for Fraulein Kopp [her rival], + and I was told that I must not invite you both.” It was “our Karl” who + astonished the hostess to whom he was sent at the last moment with + apologies from an officer, unexpectedly detained at barrack duty, by + suggesting that he should bring that unfortunate officer his dinner from + the just served table. Nor were these charming infelicities confined to + his social and domestic service. Although ready, mechanical, and + invariably docile in the manual and physical duties of a soldier,—which + endeared him to the German drill-master,—he was still invincibly + ignorant as to its purport, or even the meaning and structure of the + military instruments he handled or vacantly looked upon. It was “our Karl” + who suggested to his instructors that in field-firing it was quicker and + easier to load his musket to the muzzle at once, and get rid of its + death-dealing contents at a single discharge, than to load and fire + consecutively. It was “our Karl” who nearly killed the instructor at + sentry drill by adhering to the letter of his instructions when that + instructor had forgotten the password. It was the same Karl who, severely + admonished for his recklessness, the next time added to his challenge the + precaution, “Unless you instantly say 'Fatherland' I'll fire!” Yet his + perfect good humor and childlike curiosity were unmistakable throughout, + and incited his comrades and his superiors to show him everything in the + hope of getting some characteristic comment from him. Everything and + everybody were open to Karl and his good-humored simplicity. + </p> + <p> + That evening, as the general accompanied the consul down to the gateway + and the waiting carriage, a figure in uniform ran spontaneously before + them and shouted “Heraus!” to the sentries. But the general promptly + checked “the turning out” of the guard with a paternal shake of his finger + to the over-zealous soldier, in whom the consul recognized Karl. “He is my + Bursche now,” said the general explanatorily. “My wife has taken a fancy + to him. Ach! he is very popular with these women.” The consul was still + more surprised. The Frau Generalin Adlerkreutz he knew to be a pronounced + Englishwoman,—carrying out her English ways, proprieties, and + prejudices in the very heart of Schlachtstadt, uncompromisingly, without + fear and without reproach. That she should follow a merely foreign society + craze, or alter her English household so as to admit the impossible Karl, + struck him oddly. + </p> + <p> + A month or two elapsed without further news of Karl, when one afternoon he + suddenly turned up at the consulate. He had again sought the consular + quiet to write a few letters home; he had no chance in the confinement of + the barracks. + </p> + <p> + “But by this time you must be in the family of a field-marshal, at least,” + suggested the consul pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day, but next week,” said Karl, with sublime simplicity; “THEN I + am going to serve with the governor commandant of Rheinfestung.” + </p> + <p> + The consul smiled, motioned him to a seat at a table in the outer office, + and left him undisturbed to his correspondence. + </p> + <p> + Returning later, he found Karl, his letters finished, gazing with childish + curiosity and admiration at some thick official envelopes, bearing the + stamp of the consulate, which were lying on the table. He was evidently + struck with the contrast between them and the thin, flimsy affairs he was + holding in his hand. He appeared still more impressed when the consul told + him what they were. + </p> + <p> + “Are you writing to your friends?” continued the consul, touched by his + simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “Ach ja!” said Karl eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to put your letter in one of these envelopes?” continued + the official. + </p> + <p> + The beaming face and eyes of Karl were a sufficient answer. After all, it + was a small favor granted to this odd waif, who seemed to still cling to + the consular protection. He handed him the envelope and left him + addressing it in boyish pride. + </p> + <p> + It was Karl's last visit to the consulate. He appeared to have spoken + truly, and the consul presently learned that he had indeed been + transferred, through some high official manipulation, to the personal + service of the governor of Rheinfestung. There was weeping among the + Dienstmadchen of Schlachtstadt, and a distinct loss of originality and + lightness in the gatherings of the gentler Hausfrauen. His memory still + survived in the barracks through the later editions of his former + delightful stupidities,—many of them, it is to be feared, were + inventions,—and stories that were supposed to have come from + Rheinfestung were described in the slang of the Offiziere as being + “colossal.” But the consul remembered Rheinfestung, and could not imagine + it as a home for Karl, or in any way fostering his peculiar qualities. For + it was eminently a fortress of fortresses, a magazine of magazines, a + depot of depots. It was the key of the Rhine, the citadel of Westphalia, + the “Clapham Junction” of German railways, but defended, fortified, + encompassed, and controlled by the newest as well as the oldest devices of + military strategy and science. Even in the pipingest time of peace, whole + railway trains went into it like a rat in a trap, and might have never + come out of it; it stretched out an inviting hand and arm across the river + that might in the twinkling of an eye be changed into a closed fist of + menace. You “defiled” into it, commanded at every step by enfilading + walls; you “debouched” out of it, as you thought, and found yourself only + before the walls; you “reentered” it at every possible angle; you did + everything apparently but pass through it. You thought yourself well out + of it, and were stopped by a bastion. Its circumvallations haunted you + until you came to the next station. It had pressed even the current of the + river into its defensive service. There were secrets of its foundations + and mines that only the highest military despots knew and kept to + themselves. In a word—it was impregnable. + </p> + <p> + That such a place could not be trifled with or misunderstood in its + right-and-acute-angled severities seemed plain to every one. But set on by + his companions, who were showing him its defensive foundations, or in his + own idle curiosity, Karl managed to fall into the Rhine and was fished out + with difficulty. The immersion may have chilled his military ardor or + soured his good humor, for later the consul heard that he had visited the + American consular agent at an adjacent town with the old story of his + American citizenship. “He seemed,” said the consul's colleague, “to be + well posted about American railways and American towns, but he had no + papers. He lounged around the office for a while and”— + </p> + <p> + “Wrote letters home?” suggested the consul, with a flash of reminiscence. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the poor chap had no privacy at the barracks, and I reckon was + overlooked or bedeviled.” + </p> + <p> + This was the last the consul heard of Karl Schwartz directly; for a week + or two later he again fell into the Rhine, this time so fatally and + effectually that in spite of the efforts of his companions he was swept + away by the rapid current, and thus ended his service to his country. His + body was never recovered. + </p> + <p> + A few months before the consul was transferred from Schlachtstadt to + another post his memory of the departed Karl was revived by a visit from + Adlerkreutz. The general looked grave. + </p> + <p> + “You remember Unser Karl?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he was an impostor?” + </p> + <p> + “As regards his American citizenship, yes! But I could not say more.” + </p> + <p> + “So!” said the general. “A very singular thing has happened,” he added, + twirling his mustache. “The Inspector of police has notified us of the + arrival of a Karl Schwartz in this town. It appears he is the REAL Karl + Schwartz, identified by his sister as the only one. The other, who was + drowned, was an impostor. Hein?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have secured another recruit?” said the consul smilingly. + </p> + <p> + “No. For this one has already served his time in Elsass, where he went + when he left here as a boy. But, Donnerwetter, why should that dumb fool + take his name?” + </p> + <p> + “By chance, I fancy. Then he stupidly stuck to it, and had to take the + responsibilities with it. Don't you see?” said the consul, pleased with + his own cleverness. + </p> + <p> + “Zo-o!” said the general slowly, in his deepest voice. But the German + exclamation has a variety of significance, according to the inflection, + and Adlerkreutz's ejaculation seemed to contain them all. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It was in Paris, where the consul had lingered on his way to his new post. + He was sitting in a well-known cafe, among whose habitues were several + military officers of high rank. A group of them were gathered round a + table near him. He was idly watching them with an odd recollection of + Schlachtstadt in his mind, and as idly glancing from them to the more + attractive Boulevard without. The consul was getting a little tired of + soldiers. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there was a slight stir in the gesticulating group and a cry of + greeting. The consul looked up mechanically, and then his eyes remained + fixed and staring at the newcomer. For it was the dead Karl; Karl, surely! + Karl!—his plump figure belted in a French officer's tunic; his + flaxen hair clipped a little closer, but still its fleece showing under + his kepi. Karl, his cheeks more cherubic than ever—unchanged but for + a tiny yellow toy mustache curling up over the corners of his full lips. + Karl, beaming at his companions in his old way, but rattling off French + vivacities without the faintest trace of accent. Could he be mistaken? Was + it some phenomenal resemblance, or had the soul of the German private been + transmigrated to the French officer. + </p> + <p> + The consul hurriedly called the garcon. “Who is that officer who has just + arrived?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the Captain Christian, of the Intelligence Bureau,” said the + waiter, with proud alacrity. “A famous officer, brave as a rabbit,—un + fier lapin,—and one of our best clients. So drole, too, such a + farceur and mimic. M'sieur would be ravished to hear his imitations.” + </p> + <p> + “But he looks like a German; and his name!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he is from Alsace. But not a German!” said the waiter, absolutely + whitening with indignation. “He was at Belfort. So was I. Mon Dieu! No, a + thousand times no!” + </p> + <p> + “But has he been living here long?” said the consul. + </p> + <p> + “In Paris, a few months. But his Department, M'sieur understands, takes + him EVERYWHERE! Everywhere where he can gain information.” + </p> + <p> + The consul's eyes were still on the Captain Christian. Presently the + officer, perhaps instinctively conscious of the scrutiny, looked towards + him. Their eyes met. To the consul's surprise, the ci-devant Karl beamed + upon him, and advanced with outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + But the consul stiffened slightly, and remained so with his glass in his + hand. At which Captain Christian brought his own easily to a military + salute, and said politely:— + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Consul has been promoted from his post. Permit me to + congratulate him.” + </p> + <p> + “You have heard, then?” said the consul dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise I should not presume. For our Department makes it a business—in + Monsieur le Consul's case it becomes a pleasure—to know everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Did your Department know that the real Karl Schwartz has returned?” said + the consul dryly. + </p> + <p> + Captain Christian shrugged his shoulders. “Then it appears that the sham + Karl died none too soon,” he said lightly. “And yet”—he bent his + eyes with mischievous reproach upon the consul. + </p> + <p> + “Yet what?” demanded the consul sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Consul might have saved the unfortunate man by accepting him + as an American citizen and not helping to force him into the German + service.” + </p> + <p> + The consul saw in a flash the full military significance of this logic, + and could not repress a smile. At which Captain Christian dropped easily + into a chair beside him, and as easily into broken German English:— + </p> + <p> + “Und,” he went on, “dees town—dees Schlachtstadt is fine town, eh? + Fine womens? Goot men? Und peer and sausage? Blenty to eat and trink, eh? + Und you und te poys haf a gay times?” + </p> + <p> + The consul tried to recover his dignity. The waiter behind him, + recognizing only the delightful mimicry of this adorable officer, was in + fits of laughter. Nevertheless, the consul managed to say dryly:— + </p> + <p> + “And the barracks, the magazines, the commissariat, the details, the + reserves of Schlachtstadt were very interesting?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly.” + </p> + <p> + “And Rheinfestung—its plans—its details, even its dangerous + foundations by the river—they were to a soldier singularly + instructive?” + </p> + <p> + “You have reason to say so,” said Captain Christian, curling his little + mustache. + </p> + <p> + “And the fortress—you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Imprenable! Mais”— + </p> + <p> + The consul remembered General Adlerkreutz's “Zo-o,” and wondered. + </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> + UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY + </h2> + <p> + They were partners. The avuncular title was bestowed on them by Cedar + Camp, possibly in recognition of a certain matured good humor, quite + distinct from the spasmodic exuberant spirits of its other members, and + possibly from what, to its youthful sense, seemed their advanced ages—which + must have been at least forty! They had also set habits even in their + improvidence, lost incalculable and unpayable sums to each other over + euchre regularly every evening, and inspected their sluice-boxes + punctually every Saturday for repairs—which they never made. They + even got to resemble each other, after the fashion of old married couples, + or, rather, as in matrimonial partnerships, were subject to the domination + of the stronger character; although in their case it is to be feared that + it was the feminine Uncle Billy—enthusiastic, imaginative, and + loquacious—who swayed the masculine, steady-going, and practical + Uncle Jim. They had lived in the camp since its foundation in 1849; there + seemed to be no reason why they should not remain there until its + inevitable evolution into a mining-town. The younger members might leave + through restless ambition or a desire for change or novelty; they were + subject to no such trifling mutation. Yet Cedar Camp was surprised one day + to hear that Uncle Billy was going away. + </p> + <p> + The rain was softly falling on the bark thatch of the cabin with a muffled + murmur, like a sound heard through sleep. The southwest trades were warm + even at that altitude, as the open door testified, although a fire of pine + bark was flickering on the adobe hearth and striking out answering fires + from the freshly scoured culinary utensils on the rude sideboard, which + Uncle Jim had cleaned that morning with his usual serious persistency. + Their best clothes, which were interchangeable and worn alternately by + each other on festal occasions, hung on the walls, which were covered with + a coarse sailcloth canvas instead of lath-and-plaster, and were + diversified by pictures from illustrated papers and stains from the + exterior weather. Two “bunks,” like ships' berths,—an upper and + lower one,—occupied the gable-end of this single apartment, and on + beds of coarse sacking, filled with dry moss, were carefully rolled their + respective blankets and pillows. They were the only articles not used in + common, and whose individuality was respected. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim, who had been sitting before the fire, rose as the square bulk + of his partner appeared at the doorway with an armful of wood for the + evening stove. By that sign he knew it was nine o'clock: for the last six + years Uncle Billy had regularly brought in the wood at that hour, and + Uncle Jim had as regularly closed the door after him, and set out their + single table, containing a greasy pack of cards taken from its drawer, a + bottle of whiskey, and two tin drinking-cups. To this was added a ragged + memorandum-book and a stick of pencil. The two men drew their stools to + the table. + </p> + <p> + “Hol' on a minit,” said Uncle Billy. + </p> + <p> + His partner laid down the cards as Uncle Billy extracted from his pocket a + pill-box, and, opening it, gravely took a pill. This was clearly an + innovation on their regular proceedings, for Uncle Billy was always in + perfect health. + </p> + <p> + “What's this for?” asked Uncle Jim half scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Agin ager.” + </p> + <p> + “You ain't got no ager,” said Uncle Jim, with the assurance of intimate + cognizance of his partner's physical condition. + </p> + <p> + “But it's a pow'ful preventive! Quinine! Saw this box at Riley's store, + and laid out a quarter on it. We kin keep it here, comfortable, for + evenings. It's mighty soothin' arter a man's done a hard day's work on the + river-bar. Take one.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim gravely took a pill and swallowed it, and handed the box back to + his partner. + </p> + <p> + “We'll leave it on the table, sociable like, in case any of the boys come + in,” said Uncle Billy, taking up the cards. “Well. How do we stand?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim consulted the memorandum-book. “You were owin' me sixty-two + thousand dollars on the last game, and the limit's seventy-five thousand!” + </p> + <p> + “Je whillikins!” ejaculated Uncle Billy. “Let me see.” + </p> + <p> + He examined the book, feebly attempted to challenge the additions, but + with no effect on the total. “We oughter hev made the limit a hundred + thousand,” he said seriously; “seventy-five thousand is only triflin' in a + game like ours. And you've set down my claim at Angel's?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “I allowed you ten thousand dollars for that,” said Uncle Jim, with equal + gravity, “and it's a fancy price too.” + </p> + <p> + The claim in question being an unprospected hillside ten miles distant, + which Uncle Jim had never seen, and Uncle Billy had not visited for years, + the statement was probably true; nevertheless, Uncle Billy retorted:— + </p> + <p> + “Ye kin never tell how these things will pan out. Why, only this mornin' I + was taking a turn round Shot Up Hill, that ye know is just rotten with + quartz and gold, and I couldn't help thinkin' how much it was like my ole + claim at Angel's. I must take a day off to go on there and strike a pick + in it, if only for luck.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he paused and said, “Strange, ain't it, you should speak of it + to-night? Now I call that queer!” + </p> + <p> + He laid down his cards and gazed mysteriously at his companion. Uncle Jim + knew perfectly that Uncle Billy had regularly once a week for many years + declared his final determination to go over to Angel's and prospect his + claim, yet nevertheless he half responded to his partner's suggestion of + mystery, and a look of fatuous wonder crept into his eyes. But he + contented himself by saying cautiously, “You spoke of it first.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the more sing'lar,” said Uncle Billy confidently. “And I've been + thinking about it, and kinder seeing myself thar all day. It's mighty + queer!” He got up and began to rummage among some torn and coverless books + in the corner. + </p> + <p> + “Where's that 'Dream Book' gone to?” + </p> + <p> + “The Carson boys borrowed it,” replied Uncle Jim. “Anyhow, yours wasn't no + dream—only a kind o' vision, and the book don't take no stock in + visions.” Nevertheless, he watched his partner with some sympathy, and + added, “That reminds me that I had a dream the other night of being in + 'Frisco at a small hotel, with heaps o' money, and all the time being sort + o' scared and bewildered over it.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” queried his partner eagerly yet reproachfully. “You never let on + anything about it to ME! It's mighty queer you havin' these strange + feelin's, for I've had 'em myself. And only to-night, comin' up from the + spring, I saw two crows hopping in the trail, and I says, 'If I see + another, it's luck, sure!' And you'll think I'm lyin', but when I went to + the wood-pile just now there was the THIRD one sittin' up on a log as + plain as I see you. Tell 'e what folks ken laugh—but that's just + what Jim Filgee saw the night before he made the big strike!” + </p> + <p> + They were both smiling, yet with an underlying credulity and seriousness + as singularly pathetic as it seemed incongruous to their years and + intelligence. Small wonder, however, that in their occupation and + environment—living daily in an atmosphere of hope, expectation, and + chance, looking forward each morning to the blind stroke of a pick that + might bring fortune—they should see signs in nature and hear mystic + voices in the trackless woods that surrounded them. Still less strange + that they were peculiarly susceptible to the more recognized diversions of + chance, and were gamblers on the turning of a card who trusted to the + revelation of a shovelful of upturned earth. + </p> + <p> + It was quite natural, therefore, that they should return from their + abstract form of divination to the table and their cards. But they were + scarcely seated before they heard a crackling step in the brush outside, + and the free latch of their door was lifted. A younger member of the camp + entered. He uttered a peevish “Halloo!” which might have passed for a + greeting, or might have been a slight protest at finding the door closed, + drew the stool from which Uncle Jim had just risen before the fire, shook + his wet clothes like a Newfoundland dog, and sat down. Yet he was by no + means churlish nor coarse-looking, and this act was rather one of + easy-going, selfish, youthful familiarity than of rudeness. The cabin of + Uncles Billy and Jim was considered a public right or “common” of the + camp. Conferences between individual miners were appointed there. “I'll + meet you at Uncle Billy's” was a common tryst. Added to this was a tacit + claim upon the partners' arbitrative powers, or the equal right to request + them to step outside if the interviews were of a private nature. Yet there + was never any objection on the part of the partners, and to-night there + was not a shadow of resentment of this intrusion in the patient, + good-humored, tolerant eyes of Uncles Jim and Billy as they gazed at their + guest. Perhaps there was a slight gleam of relief in Uncle Jim's when he + found that the guest was unaccompanied by any one, and that it was not a + tryst. It would have been unpleasant for the two partners to have stayed + out in the rain while their guests were exchanging private confidences in + their cabin. While there might have been no limit to their good will, + there might have been some to their capacity for exposure. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim drew a huge log from beside the hearth and sat on the driest end + of it, while their guest occupied the stool. The young man, without + turning away from his discontented, peevish brooding over the fire, + vaguely reached backward for the whiskey-bottle and Uncle Billy's tin cup, + to which he was assisted by the latter's hospitable hand. But on setting + down the cup his eye caught sight of the pill-box. + </p> + <p> + “Wot's that?” he said, with gloomy scorn. “Rat poison?” + </p> + <p> + “Quinine pills—agin ager,” said Uncle Jim. “The newest thing out. + Keeps out damp like Injin-rubber! Take one to follow yer whiskey. Me and + Uncle Billy wouldn't think o' settin' down, quiet like, in the evening + arter work, without 'em. Take one—ye 'r' welcome! We keep 'em out + here for the boys.” + </p> + <p> + Accustomed as the partners were to adopt and wear each other's opinions + before folks, as they did each other's clothing, Uncle Billy was, + nevertheless, astonished and delighted at Uncle Jim's enthusiasm over HIS + pills. The guest took one and swallowed it. + </p> + <p> + “Mighty bitter!” he said, glancing at his hosts with the quick Californian + suspicion of some practical joke. But the honest faces of the partners + reassured him. + </p> + <p> + “That bitterness ye taste,” said Uncle Jim quickly, “is whar the thing's + gittin' in its work. Sorter sickenin' the malaria—and kinder + water-proofin' the insides all to onct and at the same lick! Don't yer + see? Put another in yer vest pocket; you'll be cryin' for 'em like a child + afore ye get home. Thar! Well, how's things agoin' on your claim, Dick? + Boomin', eh?” + </p> + <p> + The guest raised his head and turned it sufficiently to fling his answer + back over his shoulder at his hosts. “I don't know what YOU'D call' + boomin','” he said gloomily; “I suppose you two men sitting here + comfortably by the fire, without caring whether school keeps or not, would + call two feet of backwater over one's claim 'boomin';' I reckon YOU'D + consider a hundred and fifty feet of sluicing carried away, and drifting + to thunder down the South Fork, something in the way of advertising to + your old camp! I suppose YOU'd think it was an inducement to investors! I + shouldn't wonder,” he added still more gloomily, as a sudden dash of rain + down the wide-throated chimney dropped in his tin cup—“and it would + be just like you two chaps, sittin' there gormandizing over your quinine—if + yer said this rain that's lasted three weeks was something to be proud + of!” + </p> + <p> + It was the cheerful and the satisfying custom of the rest of the camp, for + no reason whatever, to hold Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy responsible for its + present location, its vicissitudes, the weather, or any convulsion of + nature; and it was equally the partners' habit, for no reason whatever, to + accept these animadversions and apologize. + </p> + <p> + “It's a rain that's soft and mellowin',” said Uncle Billy gently, “and + supplin' to the sinews and muscles. Did ye ever notice, Jim”—ostentatiously + to his partner—“did ye ever notice that you get inter a kind o' + sweaty lather workin' in it? Sorter openin' to the pores!” + </p> + <p> + “Fetches 'em every time,” said Uncle Billy. “Better nor fancy soap.” + </p> + <p> + Their guest laughed bitterly. “Well, I'm going to leave it to you. I + reckon to cut the whole concern to-morrow, and 'lite' out for something + new. It can't be worse than this.” + </p> + <p> + The two partners looked grieved, albeit they were accustomed to these + outbursts. Everybody who thought of going away from Cedar Camp used it + first as a threat to these patient men, after the fashion of runaway + nephews, or made an exemplary scene of their going. + </p> + <p> + “Better think twice afore ye go,” said Uncle Billy. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen worse weather afore ye came,” said Uncle Jim slowly. “Water all + over the Bar; the mud so deep ye couldn't get to Angel's for a sack o' + flour, and we had to grub on pine nuts and jackass-rabbits. And yet—we + stuck by the camp, and here we are!” + </p> + <p> + The mild answer apparently goaded their guest to fury. He rose from his + seat, threw back his long dripping hair from his handsome but querulous + face, and scattered a few drops on the partners. “Yes, that's just it. + That's what gets me! Here you stick, and here you are! And here you'll + stick and rust until you starve or drown! Here you are,—two men who + ought to be out in the world, playing your part as grown men,—stuck + here like children 'playing house' in the woods; playing work in your + wretched mud-pie ditches, and content. Two men not so old that you + mightn't be taking your part in the fun of the world, going to balls or + theatres, or paying attention to girls, and yet old enough to have married + and have your families around you, content to stay in this God-forsaken + place; old bachelors, pigging together like poorhouse paupers. That's what + gets me! Say you LIKE it? Say you expect by hanging on to make a strike—and + what does that amount to? What are YOUR chances? How many of us have made, + or are making, more than grub wages? Say you're willing to share and share + alike as you do—have you got enough for two? Aren't you actually + living off each other? Aren't you grinding each other down, choking each + other's struggles, as you sink together deeper and deeper in the mud of + this cussed camp? And while you're doing this, aren't you, by your age and + position here, holding out hopes to others that you know cannot be + fulfilled?” + </p> + <p> + Accustomed as they were to the half-querulous, half-humorous, but always + extravagant, criticism of the others, there was something so new in this + arraignment of themselves that the partners for a moment sat silent. There + was a slight flush on Uncle Billy's cheek, there was a slight paleness on + Uncle Jim's. He was the first to reply. But he did so with a certain + dignity which neither his partner nor their guest had ever seen on his + face before. + </p> + <p> + “As it's OUR fire that's warmed ye up like this, Dick Bullen,” he said, + slowly rising, with his hand resting on Uncle Billy's shoulder, “and as + it's OUR whiskey that's loosened your tongue, I reckon we must put up with + what ye 'r' saying, just as we've managed to put up with our own way o' + living, and not quo'll with ye under our own roof.” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow saw the change in Uncle Jim's face and quickly extended + his hand, with an apologetic backward shake of his long hair. “Hang it + all, old man,” he said, with a laugh of mingled contrition and amusement, + “you mustn't mind what I said just now. I've been so worried thinking of + things about MYSELF, and, maybe, a little about you, that I quite forgot I + hadn't a call to preach to anybody—least of all to you. So we part + friends, Uncle Jim, and you too, Uncle Billy, and you'll forget what I + said. In fact, I don't know why I spoke at all—only I was passing + your claim just now, and wondering how much longer your old sluice-boxes + would hold out, and where in thunder you'd get others when they caved in! + I reckon that sent me off. That's all, old chap!” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy's face broke into a beaming smile of relief, and it was HIS + hand that first grasped his guest's; Uncle Jim quickly followed with as + honest a pressure, but with eyes that did not seem to be looking at + Bullen, though all trace of resentment had died out of them. He walked to + the door with him, again shook hands, but remained looking out in the + darkness some time after Dick Bullen's tangled hair and broad shoulders + had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Uncle Billy had resumed his seat and was chuckling and + reminiscent as he cleaned out his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Kinder reminds me of Jo Sharp, when he was cleaned out at poker by his + own partners in his own cabin, comin' up here and bedevilin' US about it! + What was it you lint him?” + </p> + <p> + But Uncle Jim did not reply; and Uncle Billy, taking up the cards, began + to shuffle them, smiling vaguely, yet at the same time somewhat painfully. + “Arter all, Dick was mighty cut up about what he said, and I felt kinder + sorry for him. And, you know, I rather cotton to a man that speaks his + mind. Sorter clears him out, you know, of all the slumgullion that's in + him. It's just like washin' out a pan o' prospecting: you pour in the + water, and keep slushing it round and round, and out comes first the mud + and dirt, and then the gravel, and then the black sand, and then—it's + all out, and there's a speck o' gold glistenin' at the bottom!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think there WAS suthin' in what he said?” said Uncle Jim, facing + about slowly. + </p> + <p> + An odd tone in his voice made Uncle Billy look up. “No,” he said quickly, + shying with the instinct of an easy pleasure-loving nature from a possible + grave situation. “No, I don't think he ever got the color! But wot are ye + moonin' about for? Ain't ye goin' to play? It's mor' 'n half past nine + now.” + </p> + <p> + Thus adjured, Uncle Jim moved up to the table and sat down, while Uncle + Billy dealt the cards, turning up the Jack or right bower—but + WITHOUT that exclamation of delight which always accompanied his good + fortune, nor did Uncle Jim respond with the usual corresponding simulation + of deep disgust. Such a circumstance had not occurred before in the + history of their partnership. They both played in silence—a silence + only interrupted by a larger splash of raindrops down the chimney. + </p> + <p> + “We orter put a couple of stones on the chimney-top, edgewise, like Jack + Curtis does. It keeps out the rain without interferin' with the draft,” + said Uncle Billy musingly. + </p> + <p> + “What's the use if”— + </p> + <p> + “If what?” said Uncle Billy quietly. + </p> + <p> + “If we don't make it broader,” said Uncle Jim half wearily. + </p> + <p> + They both stared at the chimney, but Uncle Jim's eye followed the wall + around to the bunks. There were many discolorations on the canvas, and a + picture of the Goddess of Liberty from an illustrated paper had broken out + in a kind of damp, measly eruption. “I'll stick that funny handbill of the + 'Washin' Soda' I got at the grocery store the other day right over the + Liberty gal. It's a mighty perty woman washin' with short sleeves,” said + Uncle Billy. “That's the comfort of them picters, you kin always get + somethin' new, and it adds thickness to the wall.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim went back to the cards in silence. After a moment he rose again, + and hung his overcoat against the door. + </p> + <p> + “Wind's comin' in,” he said briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Uncle Billy cheerfully, “but it wouldn't seem nat'ral if there + wasn't that crack in the door to let the sunlight in o mornin's. Makes a + kind o' sundial, you know. When the streak o' light's in that corner, I + says 'six o'clock!' when it's across the chimney I say 'seven!' and so + 'tis!” + </p> + <p> + It certainly had grown chilly, and the wind was rising. The candle + guttered and flickered; the embers on the hearth brightened occasionally, + as if trying to dispel the gathering shadows, but always ineffectually. + The game was frequently interrupted by the necessity of stirring the fire. + After an interval of gloom, in which each partner successively drew the + candle to his side to examine his cards, Uncle Jim said:— + </p> + <p> + “Say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” responded Uncle Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you saw that third crow on the wood-pile?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure as I see you now—and a darned sight plainer. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin', I was just thinkin'. Look here! How do we stand now?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy was still losing. “Nevertheless,” he said cheerfully, “I'm + owin' you a matter of sixty thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim examined the book abstractedly. “Suppose,” he said slowly, but + without looking at his partner, “suppose, as it's gettin' late now, we + play for my half share of the claim agin the limit—seventy thousand—to + square up.” + </p> + <p> + “Your half share!” repeated Uncle Billy, with amused incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “My half share of the claim,—of this yer house, you know,—one + half of all that Dick Bullen calls our rotten starvation property,” + reiterated Uncle Jim, with a half smile. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy laughed. It was a novel idea; it was, of course, “all in the + air,” like the rest of their game, yet even then he had an odd feeling + that he would have liked Dick Bullen to have known it. “Wade in, old + pard,” he said. “I'm on it.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim lit another candle to reinforce the fading light, and the deal + fell to Uncle Billy. He turned up Jack of clubs. He also turned a little + redder as he took up his cards, looked at them, and glanced hastily at his + partner. “It's no use playing,” he said. “Look here!” He laid down his + cards on the table. They were the ace, king and queen of clubs, and Jack + of spades,—or left bower,—which, with the turned-up Jack of + clubs,—or right bower,—comprised ALL the winning cards! + </p> + <p> + “By jingo! If we'd been playin' four-handed, say you an' me agin some + other ducks, we'd have made 'four' in that deal, and h'isted some money—eh?” + and his eyes sparkled. Uncle Jim, also, had a slight tremulous light in + his own. + </p> + <p> + “Oh no! I didn't see no three crows this afternoon,” added Uncle Billy + gleefully, as his partner, in turn, began to shuffle the cards with + laborious and conscientious exactitude. Then dealing, he turned up a heart + for trumps. Uncle Billy took up his cards one by one, but when he had + finished his face had become as pale as it had been red before. “What's + the matter?” said Uncle Jim quickly, his own face growing white. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy slowly and with breathless awe laid down his cards, face up on + the table. It was exactly the same sequence IN HEARTS, with the knave of + diamonds added. He could again take every trick. + </p> + <p> + They stared at each other with vacant faces and a half-drawn smile of + fear. They could hear the wind moaning in the trees beyond; there was a + sudden rattling at the door. Uncle Billy started to his feet, but Uncle + Jim caught his arm. “DON'T LEAVE THE CARDS! It's only the wind; sit down,” + he said in a low awe-hushed voice, “it's your deal; you were two before, + and two now, that makes your four; you've only one point to make to win + the game. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + They both poured out a cup of whiskey, smiling vaguely, yet with a certain + terror in their eyes. Their hands were cold; the cards slipped from Uncle + Billy's benumbed fingers; when he had shuffled them he passed them to his + partner to shuffle them also, but did not speak. When Uncle Jim had + shuffled them methodically he handed them back fatefully to his partner. + Uncle Billy dealt them with a trembling hand. He turned up a club. “If you + are sure of these tricks you know you've won,” said Uncle Jim in a voice + that was scarcely audible. Uncle Billy did not reply, but tremulously laid + down the ace and right and left bowers. + </p> + <p> + He had won! + </p> + <p> + A feeling of relief came over each, and they laughed hysterically and + discordantly. Ridiculous and childish as their contest might have seemed + to a looker-on, to each the tension had been as great as that of the + greatest gambler, without the gambler's trained restraint, coolness, and + composure. Uncle Billy nervously took up the cards again. + </p> + <p> + “Don't,” said Uncle Jim gravely; “it's no use—the luck's gone now.” + </p> + <p> + “Just one more deal,” pleaded his partner. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim looked at the fire, Uncle Billy hastily dealt, and threw the two + hands face up on the table. They were the ordinary average cards. He dealt + again, with the same result. “I told you so,” said Uncle Jim, without + looking up. + </p> + <p> + It certainly seemed a tame performance after their wonderful hands, and + after another trial Uncle Billy threw the cards aside and drew his stool + before the fire. “Mighty queer, warn't it?” he said, with reminiscent awe. + “Three times running. Do you know, I felt a kind o' creepy feelin' down my + back all the time. Criky! what luck! None of the boys would believe it if + we told 'em—least of all that Dick Bullen, who don't believe in + luck, anyway. Wonder what he'd have said! and, Lord! how he'd have looked! + Wall! what are you starin' so for?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim had faced around, and was gazing at Uncle Billy's good-humored, + simple face. “Nothin'!” he said briefly, and his eyes again sought the + fire. + </p> + <p> + “Then don't look as if you was seein' suthin'—you give me the + creeps,” returned Uncle Billy a little petulantly. “Let's turn in, afore + the fire goes out!” + </p> + <p> + The fateful cards were put back into the drawer, the table shoved against + the wall. The operation of undressing was quickly got over, the clothes + they wore being put on top of their blankets. Uncle Billy yawned, “I + wonder what kind of a dream I'll have tonight—it oughter be suthin' + to explain that luck.” This was his “good-night” to his partner. In a few + moments he was sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + Not so Uncle Jim. He heard the wind gradually go down, and in the + oppressive silence that followed could detect the deep breathing of his + companion and the far-off yelp of a coyote. His eyesight becoming + accustomed to the semi-darkness, broken only by the scintillation of the + dying embers of their fire, he could take in every detail of their sordid + cabin and the rude environment in which they had lived so long. The dismal + patches on the bark roof, the wretched makeshifts of each day, the dreary + prolongation of discomfort, were all plain to him now, without the + sanguine hope that had made them bearable. And when he shut his eyes upon + them, it was only to travel in fancy down the steep mountain side that he + had trodden so often to the dreary claim on the overflowed river, to the + heaps of “tailings” that encumbered it, like empty shells of the hollow, + profitless days spent there, which they were always waiting for the stroke + of good fortune to clear away. He saw again the rotten “sluicing,” through + whose hopeless rifts and holes even their scant daily earnings had become + scantier. At last he arose, and with infinite gentleness let himself down + from his berth without disturbing his sleeping partner, and wrapping + himself in his blanket, went to the door, which he noiselessly opened. + From the position of a few stars that were glittering in the northern sky + he knew that it was yet scarcely midnight; there were still long, restless + hours before the day! In the feverish state into which he had gradually + worked himself it seemed to him impossible to wait the coming of the dawn. + </p> + <p> + But he was mistaken. For even as he stood there all nature seemed to + invade his humble cabin with its free and fragrant breath, and invest him + with its great companionship. He felt again, in that breath, that strange + sense of freedom, that mystic touch of partnership with the birds and + beasts, the shrubs and trees, in this greater home before him. It was this + vague communion that had kept him there, that still held these world-sick, + weary workers in their rude cabins on the slopes around him; and he felt + upon his brow that balm that had nightly lulled him and them to sleep and + forgetfulness. He closed the door, turned away, crept as noiselessly as + before into his bunk again, and presently fell into a profound slumber. + </p> + <p> + But when Uncle Billy awoke the next morning he saw it was late; for the + sun, piercing the crack of the closed door, was sending a pencil of light + across the cold hearth, like a match to rekindle its dead embers. His + first thought was of his strange luck the night before, and of + disappointment that he had not had the dream of divination that he had + looked for. He sprang to the floor, but as he stood upright his glance + fell on Uncle Jim's bunk. It was empty. Not only that, but his BLANKETS—Uncle + Jim's own particular blankets—WERE GONE! + </p> + <p> + A sudden revelation of his partner's manner the night before struck him + now with the cruelty of a blow; a sudden intelligence, perhaps the very + divination he had sought, flashed upon him like lightning! He glanced + wildly around the cabin. The table was drawn out from the wall a little + ostentatiously, as if to catch his eye. On it was lying the stained + chamois-skin purse in which they had kept the few grains of gold remaining + from their last week's “clean up.” The grains had been carefully divided, + and half had been taken! But near it lay the little memorandum-book, open, + with the stick of pencil lying across it. A deep line was drawn across the + page on which was recorded their imaginary extravagant gains and losses, + even to the entry of Uncle Jim's half share of the claim which he had + risked and lost! Underneath were hurriedly scrawled the words:— + </p> + <p> + “Settled by YOUR luck, last night, old pard.—JAMES FOSTER.” + </p> + <p> + It was nearly a month before Cedar Camp was convinced that Uncle Billy and + Uncle Jim had dissolved partnership. Pride had prevented Uncle Billy from + revealing his suspicions of the truth, or of relating the events that + preceded Uncle Jim's clandestine flight, and Dick Bullen had gone to + Sacramento by stage-coach the same morning. He briefly gave out that his + partner had been called to San Francisco on important business of their + own, that indeed might necessitate his own removal there later. In this he + was singularly assisted by a letter from the absent Jim, dated at San + Francisco, begging him not to be anxious about his success, as he had + hopes of presently entering into a profitable business, but with no + further allusions to his precipitate departure, nor any suggestion of a + reason for it. For two or three days Uncle Billy was staggered and + bewildered; in his profound simplicity he wondered if his extraordinary + good fortune that night had made him deaf to some explanation of his + partner's, or, more terrible, if he had shown some “low” and incredible + intimation of taking his partner's extravagant bet as REAL and binding. In + this distress he wrote to Uncle Jim an appealing and apologetic letter, + albeit somewhat incoherent and inaccurate, and bristling with misspelling, + camp slang, and old partnership jibes. But to this elaborate epistle he + received only Uncle Jim's repeated assurances of his own bright prospects, + and his hopes that his old partner would be more fortunate, single-handed, + on the old claim. For a whole week or two Uncle Billy sulked, but his + invincible optimism and good humor got the better of him, and he thought + only of his old partner's good fortune. He wrote him regularly, but always + to one address—a box at the San Francisco post-office, which to the + simple-minded Uncle Billy suggested a certain official importance. To + these letters Uncle Jim responded regularly but briefly. + </p> + <p> + From a certain intuitive pride in his partner and his affection, Uncle + Billy did not show these letters openly to the camp, although he spoke + freely of his former partner's promising future, and even read them short + extracts. It is needless to say that the camp did not accept Uncle Billy's + story with unsuspecting confidence. On the contrary, a hundred surmises, + humorous or serious, but always extravagant, were afloat in Cedar Camp. + The partners had quarreled over their clothes—Uncle Jim, who was + taller than Uncle Billy, had refused to wear his partner's trousers. They + had quarreled over cards—Uncle Jim had discovered that Uncle Billy + was in possession of a “cold deck,” or marked pack. They had quarreled + over Uncle Billy's carelessness in grinding up half a box of “bilious + pills” in the morning's coffee. A gloomily imaginative mule-driver had + darkly suggested that, as no one had really seen Uncle Jim leave the camp, + he was still there, and his bones would yet be found in one of the + ditches; while a still more credulous miner averred that what he had + thought was the cry of a screech-owl the night previous to Uncle Jim's + disappearance, might have been the agonized utterance of that murdered + man. It was highly characteristic of that camp—and, indeed, of + others in California—that nobody, not even the ingenious theorists + themselves, believed their story, and that no one took the slightest pains + to verify or disprove it. Happily, Uncle Billy never knew it, and moved + all unconsciously in this atmosphere of burlesque suspicion. And then a + singular change took place in the attitude of the camp towards him and the + disrupted partnership. Hitherto, for no reason whatever, all had agreed to + put the blame upon Billy—possibly because he was present to receive + it. As days passed that slight reticence and dejection in his manner, + which they had at first attributed to remorse and a guilty conscience, now + began to tell as absurdly in his favor. Here was poor Uncle Billy toiling + though the ditches, while his selfish partner was lolling in the lap of + luxury in San Francisco! Uncle Billy's glowing accounts of Uncle Jim's + success only contributed to the sympathy now fully given in his behalf and + their execration of the absconding partner. It was proposed at Biggs's + store that a letter expressing the indignation of the camp over his + heartless conduct to his late partner, William Fall, should be forwarded + to him. Condolences were offered to Uncle Billy, and uncouth attempts were + made to cheer his loneliness. A procession of half a dozen men twice a + week to his cabin, carrying their own whiskey and winding up with a “stag + dance” before the premises, was sufficient to lighten his eclipsed gayety + and remind him of a happier past. “Surprise” working parties visited his + claim with spasmodic essays towards helping him, and great good humor and + hilarity prevailed. It was not an unusual thing for an honest miner to + arise from an idle gathering in some cabin and excuse himself with the + remark that he “reckoned he'd put in an hour's work in Uncle Billy's + tailings!” And yet, as before, it was very improbable if any of these + reckless benefactors REALLY believed in their own earnestness or in the + gravity of the situation. Indeed, a kind of hopeful cynicism ran through + their performances. “Like as not, Uncle Billy is still in 'cahoots' [i. + e., shares] with his old pard, and is just laughin' at us as he's sendin' + him accounts of our tomfoolin'.” + </p> + <p> + And so the winter passed and the rains, and the days of cloudless skies + and chill starlit nights began. There were still freshets from the snow + reservoirs piled high in the Sierran passes, and the Bar was flooded, but + that passed too, and only the sunshine remained. Monotonous as the seasons + were, there was a faint movement in the camp with the stirring of the sap + in the pines and cedars. And then, one day, there was a strange excitement + on the Bar. Men were seen running hither and thither, but mainly gathering + in a crowd on Uncle Billy's claim, that still retained the old partners' + names in “The Fall and Foster.” To add to the excitement, there was the + quickly repeated report of a revolver, to all appearance aimlessly + exploded in the air by some one on the outskirts of the assemblage. As the + crowd opened, Uncle Billy appeared, pale, hysterical, breathless, and + staggering a little under the back-slapping and hand-shaking of the whole + camp. For Uncle Billy had “struck it rich”—had just discovered a + “pocket,” roughly estimated to be worth fifteen thousand dollars! + </p> + <p> + Although in that supreme moment he missed the face of his old partner, he + could not help seeing the unaffected delight and happiness shining in the + eyes of all who surrounded him. It was characteristic of that sanguine but + uncertain life that success and good fortune brought no jealousy nor envy + to the unfortunate, but was rather a promise and prophecy of the + fulfillment of their own hopes. The gold was there—Nature but + yielded up her secret. There was no prescribed limit to her bounty. So + strong was this conviction that a long-suffering but still hopeful miner, + in the enthusiasm of the moment, stooped down and patted a large boulder + with the apostrophic “Good old gal!” + </p> + <p> + Then followed a night of jubilee, a next morning of hurried consultation + with a mining expert and speculator lured to the camp by the good tidings; + and then the very next night—to the utter astonishment of Cedar Camp—Uncle + Billy, with a draft for twenty thousand dollars in his pocket, started for + San Francisco, and took leave of his claim and the camp forever! + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + When Uncle Billy landed at the wharves of San Francisco he was a little + bewildered. The Golden Gate beyond was obliterated by the incoming + sea-fog, which had also roofed in the whole city, and lights already + glittered along the gray streets that climbed the grayer sand-hills. As a + Western man, brought up by inland rivers, he was fascinated and thrilled + by the tall-masted seagoing ships, and he felt a strange sense of the + remoter mysterious ocean, which he had never seen. But he was impressed + and startled by smartly dressed men and women, the passing of carriages, + and a sudden conviction that he was strange and foreign to what he saw. It + had been his cherished intention to call upon his old partner in his + working clothes, and then clap down on the table before him a draft for + ten thousand dollars as HIS share of their old claim. But in the face of + these brilliant strangers a sudden and unexpected timidity came upon him. + He had heard of a cheap popular hotel, much frequented by the returning + gold-miner, who entered its hospitable doors—which held an easy + access to shops—and emerged in a few hours a gorgeous butterfly of + fashion, leaving his old chrysalis behind him. Thence he inquired his way; + hence he afterwards issued in garments glaringly new and ill fitting. But + he had not sacrificed his beard, and there was still something fine and + original in his handsome weak face that overcame the cheap convention of + his clothes. Making his way to the post-office, he was again discomfited + by the great size of the building, and bewildered by the array of little + square letter-boxes behind glass which occupied one whole wall, and an + equal number of opaque and locked wooden ones legibly numbered. His heart + leaped; he remembered the number, and before him was a window with a clerk + behind it. Uncle Billy leaned forward. + </p> + <p> + “Kin you tell me if the man that box 690 b'longs to is in?” + </p> + <p> + The clerk stared, made him repeat the question, and then turned away. But + he returned almost instantly, with two or three grinning heads besides his + own, apparently set behind his shoulders. Uncle Billy was again asked to + repeat his question. He did so. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you go and see if 690 is in his box?” said the first clerk, + turning with affected asperity to one of the others. + </p> + <p> + The clerk went away, returned, and said with singular gravity, “He was + there a moment ago, but he's gone out to stretch his legs. It's rather + crampin' at first; and he can't stand it more than ten hours at a time, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + But simplicity has its limits. Uncle Billy had already guessed his real + error in believing his partner was officially connected with the building; + his cheek had flushed and then paled again. The pupils of his blue eyes + had contracted into suggestive black points. “Ef you'll let me in at that + winder, young fellers,” he said, with equal gravity, “I'll show yer how I + kin make YOU small enough to go in a box without crampin'! But I only + wanted to know where Jim Foster LIVED.” + </p> + <p> + At which the first clerk became perfunctory again, but civil. “A letter + left in his box would get you that information,” he said, “and here's + paper and pencil to write it now.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy took the paper and began to write, “Just got here. Come and + see me at”—He paused. A brilliant idea had struck him; He could + impress both his old partner and the upstarts at the window; he would put + in the name of the latest “swell” hotel in San Francisco, said to be a + fairy dream of opulence. He added “The Oriental,” and without folding the + paper shoved it in the window. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you want an envelope?” asked the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Put a stamp on the corner of it,” responded Uncle Billy, laying down a + coin, “and she'll go through.” The clerk smiled, but affixed the stamp, + and Uncle Billy turned away. + </p> + <p> + But it was a short-lived triumph. The disappointment at finding Uncle + Jim's address conveyed no idea of his habitation seemed to remove him + farther away, and lose his identity in the great city. Besides, he must + now make good his own address, and seek rooms at the Oriental. He went + thither. The furniture and decorations, even in these early days of + hotel-building in San Francisco, were extravagant and over-strained, and + Uncle Billy felt lost and lonely in his strange surroundings. But he took + a handsome suite of rooms, paid for them in advance on the spot, and then, + half frightened, walked out of them to ramble vaguely through the city in + the feverish hope of meeting his old partner. At night his inquietude + increased; he could not face the long row of tables in the pillared + dining-room, filled with smartly dressed men and women; he evaded his + bedroom, with its brocaded satin chairs and its gilt bedstead, and fled to + his modest lodgings at the Good Cheer House, and appeased his hunger at + its cheap restaurant, in the company of retired miners and freshly arrived + Eastern emigrants. Two or three days passed thus in this quaint double + existence. Three or four times a day he would enter the gorgeous Oriental + with affected ease and carelessness, demand his key from the hotel-clerk, + ask for the letter that did not come, go to his room, gaze vaguely from + his window on the passing crowd below for the partner he could not find, + and then return to the Good Cheer House for rest and sustenance. On the + fourth day he received a short note from Uncle Jim; it was couched in his + usual sanguine but brief and businesslike style. He was very sorry, but + important and profitable business took him out of town, but he trusted to + return soon and welcome his old partner. He was also, for the first time, + jocose, and hoped that Uncle Billy would not “see all the sights” before + he, Uncle Jim, returned. Disappointing as this procrastination was to + Uncle Billy, a gleam of hope irradiated it: the letter had bridged over + that gulf which seemed to yawn between them at the post-office. His old + partner had accepted his visit to San Francisco without question, and had + alluded to a renewal of their old intimacy. For Uncle Billy, with all his + trustful simplicity, had been tortured by two harrowing doubts: one, + whether Uncle Jim in his new-fledged smartness as a “city” man—such + as he saw in the streets—would care for his rough companionship; the + other, whether he, Uncle Billy, ought not to tell him at once of his + changed fortune. But, like all weak, unreasoning men, he clung desperately + to a detail—he could not forego his old idea of astounding Uncle Jim + by giving him his share of the “strike” as his first intimation of it, and + he doubted, with more reason perhaps, if Jim would see him after he had + heard of his good fortune. For Uncle Billy had still a frightened + recollection of Uncle Jim's sudden stroke for independence, and that rigid + punctiliousness which had made him doggedly accept the responsibility of + his extravagant stake at euchre. + </p> + <p> + With a view of educating himself for Uncle Jim's company, he “saw the + sights” of San Francisco—as an overgrown and somewhat stupid child + might have seen them—with great curiosity, but little contamination + or corruption. But I think he was chiefly pleased with watching the + arrival of the Sacramento and Stockton steamers at the wharves, in the + hope of discovering his old partner among the passengers on the + gang-plank. Here, with his old superstitious tendency and gambler's + instinct, he would augur great success in his search that day if any one + of the passengers bore the least resemblance to Uncle Jim, if a man or + woman stepped off first, or if he met a single person's questioning eye. + Indeed, this got to be the real occupation of the day, which he would on + no account have omitted, and to a certain extent revived each day in his + mind the morning's work of their old partnership. He would say to himself, + “It's time to go and look up Jim,” and put off what he was pleased to + think were his pleasures until this act of duty was accomplished. + </p> + <p> + In this singleness of purpose he made very few and no entangling + acquaintances, nor did he impart to any one the secret of his fortune, + loyally reserving it for his partner's first knowledge. To a man of his + natural frankness and simplicity this was a great trial, and was, perhaps, + a crucial test of his devotion. When he gave up his rooms at the Oriental—as + not necessary after his partner's absence—he sent a letter, with his + humble address, to the mysterious lock-box of his partner without fear or + false shame. He would explain it all when they met. But he sometimes + treated unlucky and returning miners to a dinner and a visit to the + gallery of some theatre. Yet while he had an active sympathy with and + understanding of the humblest, Uncle Billy, who for many years had done + his own and his partner's washing, scrubbing, mending, and cooking, and + saw no degradation in it, was somewhat inconsistently irritated by menial + functions in men, and although he gave extravagantly to waiters, and threw + a dollar to the crossing-sweeper, there was always a certain shy avoidance + of them in his manner. Coming from the theatre one night Uncle Billy was, + however, seriously concerned by one of these crossing-sweepers turning + hastily before them and being knocked down by a passing carriage. The man + rose and limped hurriedly away; but Uncle Billy was amazed and still more + irritated to hear from his companion that this kind of menial occupation + was often profitable, and that at some of the principal crossings the + sweepers were already rich men. + </p> + <p> + But a few days later brought a more notable event to Uncle Billy. One + afternoon in Montgomery Street he recognized in one of its smartly dressed + frequenters a man who had a few years before been a member of Cedar Camp. + Uncle Billy's childish delight at this meeting, which seemed to bridge + over his old partner's absence, was, however, only half responded to by + the ex-miner, and then somewhat satirically. In the fullness of his + emotion, Uncle Billy confided to him that he was seeking his old partner, + Jim Foster, and, reticent of his own good fortune, spoke glowingly of his + partner's brilliant expectations, but deplored his inability to find him. + And just now he was away on important business. “I reckon he's got back,” + said the man dryly. “I didn't know he had a lock-box at the post-office, + but I can give you his other address. He lives at the Presidio, at + Washerwoman's Bay.” He stopped and looked with a satirical smile at Uncle + Billy. But the latter, familiar with Californian mining-camp nomenclature, + saw nothing strange in it, and merely repeated his companion's words. + </p> + <p> + “You'll find him there! Good-by! So long! Sorry I'm in a hurry,” said the + ex-miner, and hurried away. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy was too delighted with the prospect of a speedy meeting with + Uncle Jim to resent his former associate's supercilious haste, or even to + wonder why Uncle Jim had not informed him that he had returned. It was not + the first time that he had felt how wide was the gulf between himself and + these others, and the thought drew him closer to his old partner, as well + as his old idea, as it was now possible to surprise him with the draft. + But as he was going to surprise him in his own boarding-house—probably + a handsome one—Uncle Billy reflected that he would do so in a + certain style. + </p> + <p> + He accordingly went to a livery stable and ordered a landau and pair, with + a negro coachman. Seated in it, in his best and most ill-fitting clothes, + he asked the coachman to take him to the Presidio, and leaned back in the + cushions as they drove through the streets with such an expression of + beaming gratification on his good-humored face that the passers-by smiled + at the equipage and its extravagant occupant. To them it seemed the not + unusual sight of the successful miner “on a spree.” To the unsophisticated + Uncle Billy their smiling seemed only a natural and kindly recognition of + his happiness, and he nodded and smiled back to them with unsuspecting + candor and innocent playfulness. “These yer 'Frisco fellers ain't ALL + slouches, you bet,” he added to himself half aloud, at the back of the + grinning coachman. + </p> + <p> + Their way led through well-built streets to the outskirts, or rather to + that portion of the city which seemed to have been overwhelmed by shifting + sand-dunes, from which half-submerged fences and even low houses barely + marked the line of highway. The resistless trade-winds which had marked + this change blew keenly in his face and slightly chilled his ardor. At a + turn in the road the sea came in sight, and sloping towards it the great + Cemetery of Lone Mountain, with white shafts and marbles that glittered in + the sunlight like the sails of ships waiting to be launched down that + slope into the Eternal Ocean. Uncle Billy shuddered. What if it had been + his fate to seek Uncle Jim there! + </p> + <p> + “Dar's yar Presidio!” said the negro coachman a few moments later, + pointing with his whip, “and dar's yar Wash'woman's Bay!” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy stared. A huge quadrangular fort of stone with a flag flying + above its battlements stood at a little distance, pressed against the + rocks, as if beating back the encroaching surges; between him and the fort + but farther inland was a lagoon with a number of dilapidated, rudely + patched cabins or cottages, like stranded driftwood around its shore. But + there was no mansion, no block of houses, no street, not another + habitation or dwelling to be seen! + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy's first shock of astonishment was succeeded by a feeling of + relief. He had secretly dreaded a meeting with his old partner in the + “haunts of fashion;” whatever was the cause that made Uncle Jim seek this + obscure retirement affected him but slightly; he even was thrilled with a + vague memory of the old shiftless camp they had both abandoned. A certain + instinct—he knew not why, or less still that it might be one of + delicacy—made him alight before they reached the first house. + Bidding the carriage wait, Uncle Billy entered, and was informed by a + blowzy Irish laundress at a tub that Jim Foster, or “Arkansaw Jim,” lived + at the fourth shanty “beyant.” He was at home, for “he'd shprained his + fut.” Uncle Billy hurried on, stopped before the door of a shanty scarcely + less rude than their old cabin, and half timidly pushed it open. A + growling voice from within, a figure that rose hurriedly, leaning on a + stick, with an attempt to fly, but in the same moment sank back in a chair + with an hysterical laugh—and Uncle Billy stood in the presence of + his old partner! But as Uncle Billy darted forward, Uncle Jim rose again, + and this time with outstretched hands. Uncle Billy caught them, and in one + supreme pressure seemed to pour out and transfuse his whole simple soul + into his partner's. There they swayed each other backwards and forwards + and sideways by their still clasped hands, until Uncle Billy, with a + glance at Uncle Jim's bandaged ankle, shoved him by sheer force down into + his chair. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim was first to speak. “Caught, b' gosh! I mighter known you'd be + as big a fool as me! Look you, Billy Fall, do you know what you've done? + You've druv me out er the streets whar I was makin' an honest livin', by + day, on three crossin's! Yes,” he laughed forgivingly, “you druv me out er + it, by day, jest because I reckoned that some time I might run into your + darned fool face,”—another laugh and a grasp of the hand,—“and + then, b'gosh! not content with ruinin' my business BY DAY, when I took to + it at night, YOU took to goin' out at nights too, and so put a stopper on + me there! Shall I tell you what else you did? Well, by the holy poker! I + owe this sprained foot to your darned foolishness and my own, for it was + getting away from YOU one night after the theatre that I got run into and + run over! + </p> + <p> + “Ye see,” he went on, unconscious of Uncle Billy's paling face, and with a + naivete, though perhaps not a delicacy, equal to Uncle Billy's own, “I had + to play roots on you with that lock-box business and these letters, + because I did not want you to know what I was up to, for you mightn't like + it, and might think it was lowerin' to the old firm, don't yer see? I + wouldn't hev gone into it, but I was played out, and I don't mind tellin' + you NOW, old man, that when I wrote you that first chipper letter from the + lock-box I hedn't eat anythin' for two days. But it's all right NOW,” with + a laugh. “Then I got into this business—thinkin' it nothin'—jest + the very last thing—and do you know, old pard, I couldn't tell + anybody but YOU—and, in fact, I kept it jest to tell you—I've + made nine hundred and fifty-six dollars! Yes, sir, NINE HUNDRED AND + FIFTY-SIX DOLLARS! solid money, in Adams and Co.'s Bank, just out er my + trade.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot trade?” asked Uncle Billy. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim pointed to the corner, where stood a large, heavy + crossing-sweeper's broom. “That trade.” + </p> + <p> + “Certingly,” said Uncle Billy, with a quick laugh. + </p> + <p> + “It's an outdoor trade,” said Uncle Jim gravely, but with no suggestion of + awkwardness or apology in his manner; “and thar ain't much difference + between sweepin' a crossin' with a broom and raking over tailing with a + rake, ONLY—WOT YE GET with a broom YOU HAVE HANDED TO YE, and ye + don't have to PICK IT UP AND FISH IT OUT ER the wet rocks and + sluice-gushin'; and it's a heap less tiring to the back.” + </p> + <p> + “Certingly, you bet!” said Uncle Billy enthusiastically, yet with a + certain nervous abstraction. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad ye say so; for yer see I didn't know at first how you'd tumble + to my doing it, until I'd made my pile. And ef I hadn't made it, I + wouldn't hev set eyes on ye agin, old pard—never!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind my runnin' out a minit,” said Uncle Billy, rising. “You see, + I've got a friend waitin' for me outside—and I reckon”—he + stammered—“I'll jest run out and send him off, so I kin talk + comf'ble to ye.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye ain't got anybody you're owin' money to,” said Uncle Jim earnestly, + “anybody follerin' you to get paid, eh? For I kin jest set down right here + and write ye off a check on the bank!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Uncle Billy. He slipped out of the door, and ran like a deer to + the waiting carriage. Thrusting a twenty-dollar gold-piece into the + coachman's hand, he said hoarsely, “I ain't wantin' that kerridge just + now; ye ken drive around and hev a private jamboree all by yourself the + rest of the afternoon, and then come and wait for me at the top o' the + hill yonder.” + </p> + <p> + Thus quit of his gorgeous equipage, he hurried back to Uncle Jim, grasping + his ten-thousand dollar draft in his pocket. He was nervous, he was + frightened, but he must get rid of the draft and his story, and have it + over. But before he could speak he was unexpectedly stopped by Uncle Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Now, look yer, Billy boy!” said Uncle Jim; “I got suthin' to say to ye—and + I might as well clear it off my mind at once, and then we can start fair + agin. Now,” he went on, with a half laugh, “wasn't it enough for ME to go + on pretendin' I was rich and doing a big business, and gettin' up that + lock-box dodge so as ye couldn't find out whar I hung out and what I was + doin'—wasn't it enough for ME to go on with all this play-actin', + but YOU, you long-legged or nary cuss! must get up and go to lyin' and + play-actin', too!” + </p> + <p> + “ME play-actin'? ME lyin'?” gasped Uncle Billy. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Do you think you could + fool ME? Do you think I didn't see through your little game o' going to + that swell Oriental, jest as if ye'd made a big strike—and all the + while ye wasn't sleepin' or eatin' there, but jest wrastlin' yer hash and + having a roll down at the Good Cheer! Do you think I didn't spy on ye and + find that out? Oh, you long-eared jackass-rabbit!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed until the tears came into his eyes, and Uncle Billy laughed + too, albeit until the laugh on his face became quite fixed, and he was + fain to bury his head in his handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” said Uncle Jim, with a deep breath, “gosh! I was frighted—jest + for a minit! I thought, mebbe, you HAD made a big strike—when I got + your first letter—and I made up my mind what I'd do! And then I + remembered you was jest that kind of an open sluice that couldn't keep + anythin' to yourself, and you'd have been sure to have yelled it out to ME + the first thing. So I waited. And I found you out, you old sinner!” He + reached forward and dug Uncle Billy in the ribs. + </p> + <p> + “What WOULD you hev done?” said Uncle Billy, after an hysterical collapse. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim's face grew grave again. “I'd hev—I'd—hev cl'ared + out! Out er 'Frisco! out er Californy! out er Ameriky! I couldn't have + stud it! Don't think I would hev begrudged ye yer luck! No man would have + been gladder than me.” He leaned forward again, and laid his hand + caressingly upon his partner's arm—“Don't think I'd hev wanted to + take a penny of it—but I—thar! I COULDN'T hev stood up under + it! To hev had YOU, you that I left behind, comin' down here rollin' in + wealth and new partners and friends, and arrive upon me—and this + shanty—and”—he threw towards the corner of the room a terrible + gesture, none the less terrible that it was illogical and inconsequent to + all that had gone before—“and—and—THAT BROOM!” + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence in the room. With it Uncle Billy seemed to feel + himself again transported to the homely cabin at Cedar Camp and that + fateful night, with his partner's strange, determined face before him as + then. He even fancied that he heard the roaring of the pines without, and + did not know that it was the distant sea. + </p> + <p> + But after a minute Uncle Jim resumed:— + </p> + <p> + “Of course you've made a little raise somehow, or you wouldn't be here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Uncle Billy eagerly. “Yes! I've got”—He stopped and + stammered. “I've got—a—few hundreds.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh!” said Uncle Jim cheerfully. He paused, and then added earnestly, + “I say! You ain't got left, over and above your d—d foolishness at + the Oriental, as much as five hundred dollars?” + </p> + <p> + “I've got,” said Uncle Billy, blushing a little over his first deliberate + and affected lie, “I've got at least five hundred and seventy-two dollars. + Yes,” he added tentatively, gazing anxiously at his partner, “I've got at + least that.” + </p> + <p> + “Je whillikins!” said Uncle Jim, with a laugh. Then eagerly, “Look here, + pard! Then we're on velvet! I've got NINE hundred; put your FIVE with + that, and I know a little ranch that we can get for twelve hundred. That's + what I've been savin' up for—that's my little game! No more minin' + for ME. It's got a shanty twice as big as our old cabin, nigh on a hundred + acres, and two mustangs. We can run it with two Chinamen and jest make it + howl! Wot yer say—eh?” He extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm in,” said Uncle Billy, radiantly grasping Uncle Jim's. But his smile + faded, and his clear simple brow wrinkled in two lines. + </p> + <p> + Happily Uncle Jim did not notice it. “Now, then, old pard,” he said + brightly, “we'll have a gay old time to-night—one of our jamborees! + I've got some whiskey here and a deck o' cards, and we'll have a little + game, you understand, but not for 'keeps' now! No, siree; we'll play for + beans.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden light illuminated Uncle Billy's face again, but he said, with a + grim desperation, “Not to-night! I've got to go into town. That fren' o' + mine expects me to go to the theayter, don't ye see? But I'll be out + to-morrow at sun-up, and we'll fix up this thing o' the ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me you're kinder stuck on this fren',” grunted Uncle Jim. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy's heart bounded at his partner's jealousy. “No—but I + MUST, you know,” he returned, with a faint laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I say—it ain't a HER, is it?” said Uncle Jim. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy achieved a diabolical wink and a creditable blush at his lie. + </p> + <p> + “Billy?” + </p> + <p> + “Jim!” + </p> + <p> + And under cover of this festive gallantry Uncle Billy escaped. He ran + through the gathering darkness, and toiled up the shifting sands to the + top of the hill, where he found the carriage waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Wot,” said Uncle Billy in a low confidential tone to the coachman, “wot + do you 'Frisco fellers allow to be the best, biggest, and riskiest + gamblin'-saloon here? Suthin' high-toned, you know?” + </p> + <p> + The negro grinned. It was the usual case of the extravagant spendthrift + miner, though perhaps he had expected a different question and order. + </p> + <p> + “Dey is de 'Polka,' de 'El Dorado,' and de 'Arcade' saloon, boss,” he + said, flicking his whip meditatively. “Most gents from de mines prefer de + 'Polka,' for dey is dancing wid de gals frown in. But de real prima facie + place for gents who go for buckin' agin de tiger and straight-out gamblin' + is de 'Arcade.'” + </p> + <p> + “Drive there like thunder!” said Uncle Billy, leaping into the carriage. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + True to his word, Uncle Billy was at his partner's shanty early the next + morning. He looked a little tired, but happy, and had brought a draft with + him for five hundred and seventy-five dollars, which he explained was the + total of his capital. Uncle Jim was overjoyed. They would start for Napa + that very day, and conclude the purchase of the ranch; Uncle Jim's + sprained foot was a sufficient reason for his giving up his present + vocation, which he could also sell at a small profit. His domestic + arrangements were very simple; there was nothing to take with him—there + was everything to leave behind. And that afternoon, at sunset, the two + reunited partners were seated on the deck of the Napa boat as she swung + into the stream. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy was gazing over the railing with a look of abstracted relief + towards the Golden Gate, where the sinking sun seemed to be drawing + towards him in the ocean a golden stream that was forever pouring from the + Bay and the three-hilled city beside it. What Uncle Billy was thinking of, + or what the picture suggested to him, did not transpire; for Uncle Jim, + who, emboldened by his holiday, was luxuriating in an evening paper, + suddenly uttered a long-drawn whistle, and moved closer to his abstracted + partner. “Look yer,” he said, pointing to a paragraph he had evidently + just read, “just you listen to this, and see if we ain't lucky, you and + me, to be jest wot we air—trustin' to our own hard work—and + not thinkin' o' 'strikes' and 'fortins.' Jest unbutton yer ears, Billy, + while I reel off this yer thing I've jest struck in the paper, and see + what d—d fools some men kin make o' themselves. And that theer + reporter wot wrote it—must hev seed it reely!” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jim cleared his throat, and holding the paper close to his eyes read + aloud slowly:— + </p> + <p> + “'A scene of excitement that recalled the palmy days of '49 was witnessed + last night at the Arcade Saloon. A stranger, who might have belonged to + that reckless epoch, and who bore every evidence of being a successful + Pike County miner out on a “spree,” appeared at one of the tables with a + negro coachman bearing two heavy bags of gold. Selecting a faro-bank as + his base of operations, he began to bet heavily and with apparent + recklessness, until his play excited the breathless attention of every + one. In a few moments he had won a sum variously estimated at from eighty + to a hundred thousand dollars. A rumor went round the room that it was a + concerted attempt to “break the bank” rather than the drunken freak of a + Western miner, dazzled by some successful strike. To this theory the man's + careless and indifferent bearing towards his extraordinary gains lent + great credence. The attempt, if such it was, however, was unsuccessful. + After winning ten times in succession the luck turned, and the unfortunate + “bucker” was cleared out not only of his gains, but of his original + investment, which may be placed roughly at twenty thousand dollars. This + extraordinary play was witnessed by a crowd of excited players, who were + less impressed by even the magnitude of the stakes than the perfect + sang-froid and recklessness of the player, who, it is said, at the close + of the game tossed a twenty-dollar gold-piece to the banker and smilingly + withdrew. The man was not recognized by any of the habitues of the place.' + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Uncle Jim, as he hurriedly slurred over the French + substantive at the close, “did ye ever see such God-forsaken foolishness?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Billy lifted his abstracted eyes from the current, still pouring its + unreturning gold into the sinking sun, and said, with a deprecatory smile, + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + Nor even in the days of prosperity that visited the Great Wheat Ranch of + “Fall and Foster” did he ever tell his secret to his partner. + </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> + SEE YUP + </h2> + <p> + I don't suppose that his progenitors ever gave him that name, or, indeed, + that it was a NAME at all; but it was currently believed that—as + pronounced “See UP”—it meant that lifting of the outer angle of the + eye common to the Mongolian. On the other hand, I had been told that there + was an old Chinese custom of affixing some motto or legend, or even a + sentence from Confucius, as a sign above their shops, and that two or more + words, which might be merely equivalent to “Virtue is its own reward,” or + “Riches are deceitful,” were believed by the simple Californian miner to + be the name of the occupant himself. Howbeit, “See Yup” accepted it with + the smiling patience of his race, and never went by any other. If one of + the tunnelmen always addressed him as “Brigadier-General,” “Judge,” or + “Commodore,” it was understood to be only the American fondness for ironic + title, and was never used except in personal conversation. In appearance + he looked like any other Chinaman, wore the ordinary blue cotton blouse + and white drawers of the Sampan coolie, and, in spite of the apparent + cleanliness and freshness of these garments, always exhaled that singular + medicated odor—half opium, half ginger—which we recognized as + the common “Chinese smell.” + </p> + <p> + Our first interview was characteristic of his patient quality. He had done + my washing for several months, but I had never yet seen him. A meeting at + last had become necessary to correct his impressions regarding “buttons”—which + he had seemed to consider as mere excrescences, to be removed like + superfluous dirt from soiled linen. I had expected him to call at my + lodgings, but he had not yet made his appearance. One day, during the + noontide recess of the little frontier school over which I presided, I + returned rather early. Two or three of the smaller boys, who were + loitering about the school-yard, disappeared with a certain guilty + precipitation that I suspected for the moment, but which I presently + dismissed from my mind. I passed through the empty school-room to my desk, + sat down, and began to prepare the coming lessons. Presently I heard a + faint sigh. Looking up, to my intense concern, I discovered a solitary + Chinaman whom I had overlooked, sitting in a rigid attitude on a bench + with his back to the window. He caught my eye and smiled sadly, but + without moving. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” I asked sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Me washee shilts; me talkee 'buttons.'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you're See Yup, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Allee same, John.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, come here.” + </p> + <p> + I continued my work, but he did not move. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, hang it! Don't you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Me shabbee, 'comme yea.' But me no shabbee Mellican boy, who catchee me, + allee same. YOU 'comme yea'—YOU shabbee?” + </p> + <p> + Indignant, but believing that the unfortunate man was still in fear of + persecution from the mischievous urchins whom I had evidently just + interrupted, I put down my pen and went over to him. Here I discovered, to + my surprise and mortification, that his long pigtail was held hard and + fast by the closed window behind him which the young rascals had shut down + upon it, after having first noiselessly fished it outside with a hook and + line. I apologized, opened the window, and released him. He did not + complain, although he must have been fixed in that uncomfortable position + for some minutes, but plunged at once into the business that brought him + there. + </p> + <p> + “But WHY didn't you come to my lodgings?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + He smiled sadly but intelligently. + </p> + <p> + “Mishtel Bally [Mr. Barry, my landlord] he owce me five dollee fo washee, + washee. He no payee me. He say he knock hellee outee me allee time I come + for payee. So me no come HOUSEE, me come SCHOOLEE, Shabbee? Mellican boy + no good, but not so big as Mellican man. No can hurtee Chinaman so much. + Shabbee?” + </p> + <p> + Alas! I knew that this was mainly true. Mr. James Barry was an Irishman, + whose finer religious feelings revolted against paying money to a heathen. + I could not find it in my heart to say anything to See Yup about the + buttons; indeed, I spoke in complimentary terms about the gloss of my + shirts, and I think I meekly begged him to come again for my washing. When + I went home I expostulated with Mr. Barry, but succeeded only in + extracting from him the conviction that I was one of “thim black + Republican fellys that worshiped naygurs.” I had simply made an enemy of + him. But I did not know that, at the same time, I had made a friend of See + Yup! + </p> + <p> + I became aware of this a few days later, by the appearance on my desk of a + small pot containing a specimen of camellia japonica in flower. I knew the + school-children were in the habit of making presents to me in this furtive + fashion,—leaving their own nosegays of wild flowers, or perhaps a + cluster of roses from their parents' gardens,—but I also knew that + this exotic was too rare to come from them. I remembered that See Yup had + a Chinese taste for gardening, and a friend, another Chinaman, who kept a + large nursery in the adjoining town. But my doubts were set at rest by the + discovery of a small roll of red rice-paper containing my washing-bill, + fastened to the camellia stalk. It was plain that this mingling of + business and delicate gratitude was clearly See Yup's own idea. As the + finest flower was the topmost one, I plucked it for wearing, when I found, + to my astonishment, that it was simply wired to the stalk. This led me to + look at the others, which I found also wired! More than that, they seemed + to be an inferior flower, and exhaled that cold, earthy odor peculiar to + the camellia, even, as I thought, to an excess. A closer examination + resulted in the discovery that, with the exception of the first flower I + had plucked, they were one and all ingeniously constructed of thin slices + of potato, marvelously cut to imitate the vegetable waxiness and formality + of the real flower. The work showed an infinite and almost pathetic + patience in detail, yet strangely incommensurate with the result, + admirable as it was. Nevertheless, this was also like See Yup. But whether + he had tried to deceive me, or whether he only wished me to admire his + skill, I could not say. And as his persecution by my scholars had left a + balance of consideration in his favor, I sent him a warm note of thanks, + and said nothing of my discovery. + </p> + <p> + As our acquaintance progressed, I became frequently the recipient of other + small presents from him: a pot of preserves of a quality I could not + purchase in shops, and whose contents in their crafty, gingery + dissimulation so defied definition that I never knew whether they were + animal, vegetable, or mineral; two or three hideous Chinese idols, “for + luckee,” and a diabolical fire-work with an irregular spasmodic activity + that would sometimes be prolonged until the next morning. In return, I + gave him some apparently hopeless oral lessons in English, and certain + sentences to be copied, which he did with marvelous precision. I remember + one instance when this peculiar faculty of imitation was disastrous in + result. In setting him a copy, I had blurred a word which I promptly + erased, and then traced the letters more distinctly over the scratched + surface. To my surprise, See Yup triumphantly produced HIS copy with the + erasion itself carefully imitated, and, in fact, much more neatly done + than mine. + </p> + <p> + In our confidential intercourse, I never seemed to really get nearer to + him. His sympathy and simplicity appeared like his flowers—to be a + good-humored imitation of my own. I am satisfied that his particularly + soulless laugh was not derived from any amusement he actually felt, yet I + could not say it was forced. In his accurate imitations, I fancied he was + only trying to evade any responsibility of his own. THAT devolved upon his + taskmaster! In the attention he displayed when new ideas were presented to + him, there was a slight condescension, as if he were looking down upon + them from his three thousand years of history. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think the electric telegraph wonderful?” I asked one day. + </p> + <p> + “Very good for Mellican man,” he said, with his aimless laugh; “plenty + makee him jump!” + </p> + <p> + I never could tell whether he had confounded it with electro-galvanism, or + was only satirizing our American haste and feverishness. He was capable of + either. For that matter, we knew that the Chinese themselves possessed + some means of secretly and quickly communicating with one another. Any + news of good or ill import to their race was quickly disseminated through + the settlement before WE knew anything about it. An innocent basket of + clothes from the wash, sent up from the river-bank, became in some way a + library of information; a single slip of rice-paper, aimlessly fluttering + in the dust of the road, had the mysterious effect of diverging a whole + gang of coolie tramps away from our settlement. + </p> + <p> + When See Yup was not subject to the persecutions of the more ignorant and + brutal he was always a source of amusement to all, and I cannot recall an + instance when he was ever taken seriously. The miners found diversions + even in his alleged frauds and trickeries, whether innocent or + retaliatory, and were fond of relating with great gusto his evasion of the + Foreign Miners' Tax. This was an oppressive measure aimed principally at + the Chinese, who humbly worked the worn-out “tailings” of their Christian + fellow miners. It was stated that See Yup, knowing the difficulty—already + alluded to—of identifying any particular Chinaman by NAME, conceived + the additional idea of confusing recognition by intensifying the + monotonous facial expression. Having paid his tax himself to the + collector, he at once passed the receipt to his fellows, so that the + collector found himself confronted in different parts of the settlement + with the receipt and the aimless laugh of, apparently, See Yup himself. + Although we all knew that there were a dozen Chinamen or more at work at + the mines, the collector never was able to collect the tax from more than + TWO,—See Yup and one See Yin,—and so great was THEIR facial + resemblance that the unfortunate official for a long time hugged himself + with the conviction that he had made See Yup PAY TWICE, and withheld the + money from the government! It is very probable that the Californian's + recognition of the sanctity of a joke, and his belief that “cheating the + government was only cheating himself,” largely accounted for the + sympathies of the rest of the miners. + </p> + <p> + But these sympathies were not always unanimous. + </p> + <p> + One evening I strolled into the bar-room of the principal saloon, which, + so far as mere upholstery and comfort went, was also the principal house + in the settlement. The first rains had commenced; the windows were open, + for the influence of the southwest trades penetrated even this far-off + mountain mining settlement, but, oddly enough, there was a fire in the + large central stove, around which the miners had collected, with their + steaming boots elevated on a projecting iron railing that encircled it. + They were not attracted by the warmth, but the stove formed a social pivot + for gossip, and suggested that mystic circle dear to the gregarious + instinct. Yet they were decidedly a despondent group. For some moments the + silence was only broken by a gasp, a sigh, a muttered oath, or an + impatient change of position. There was nothing in the fortunes of the + settlement, nor in their own individual affairs to suggest this gloom. The + singular truth was that they were, one and all, suffering from the pangs + of dyspepsia. + </p> + <p> + Incongruous as such a complaint might seem to their healthy environment,—their + outdoor life, their daily exercise, the healing balsam of the mountain + air, their enforced temperance in diet, and the absence of all enervating + pleasures,—it was nevertheless the incontestable fact. Whether it + was the result of the nervous, excitable temperament which had brought + them together in this feverish hunt for gold; whether it was the quality + of the tinned meats or half-cooked provisions they hastily bolted, + begrudging the time it took to prepare and to consume them; whether they + too often supplanted their meals by tobacco or whiskey, the singular + physiological truth remained that these young, finely selected + adventurers, living the lives of the natural, aboriginal man, and looking + the picture of health and strength, actually suffered more from + indigestion than the pampered dwellers of the cities. The quantity of + “patent medicines,” “bitters,” “pills,” “panaceas,” and “lozenges” sold in + the settlement almost exceeded the amount of the regular provisions whose + effects they were supposed to correct. The sufferers eagerly scanned + advertisements and placards. There were occasional “runs” on new + “specifics,” and general conversation eventually turned into a discussion + of their respective merits. A certain childlike faith and trust in each + new remedy was not the least distressing and pathetic of the symptoms of + these grown-up, bearded men. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” said Cyrus Parker, glancing around at his fellow + sufferers, “ye kin talk of your patent medicines, and I've tackled 'em + all, but only the other day I struck suthin' that I'm goin' to hang on to, + you bet.” + </p> + <p> + Every eye was turned moodily to the speaker, but no one said anything. + </p> + <p> + “And I didn't get it outer advertisements, nor off of circulars. I got it + outer my head, just by solid thinking,” continued Parker. + </p> + <p> + “What was it, Cy?” said one unsophisticated and inexperienced sufferer. + </p> + <p> + Instead of replying, Parker, like a true artist, knowing he had the ear of + his audience, dramatically flashed a question upon them. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever hear of a Chinaman having dyspepsy?” + </p> + <p> + “Never heard he had sabe enough to hev ANYTHING,” said a scorner. + </p> + <p> + “No, but DID ye?” insisted Parker. + </p> + <p> + “Well, no!” chorused the group. They were evidently struck with the fact. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you didn't,” said Parker triumphantly. “'Cos they AIN'T. Well, + gentlemen, it didn't seem to me the square thing that a pesky lot o' + yellow-skinned heathens should be built different to a white man, and + never know the tortur' that a Christian feels; and one day, arter dinner, + when I was just a-lyin' flat down on the bank, squirmin', and clutching + the short grass to keep from yellin', who should go by but that pizened + See Yup, with a grin on his face. + </p> + <p> + “'Mellican man plenty playee to him Joss after eatin',' sez he; 'but + Chinaman smellee punk, allee same, and no hab got.' + </p> + <p> + “I knew the slimy cuss was just purtendin' he thought I was prayin' to my + Joss, but I was that weak I hadn't stren'th, boys, to heave a rock at him. + Yet it gave me an idea.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” they asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I went down to his shop the next day, when he was alone, and I was + feeling mighty bad, and I got hold of his pigtail and I allowed I'd stuff + it down his throat if he didn't tell me what he meant. Then he took a + piece of punk and lit it, and put it under my nose, and, darn my skin, + gentlemen, you migh'n't believe me, but in a minute I felt better, and + after a whiff or two I was all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it pow'ful strong, Cy?” asked the inexperienced one. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Parker, “and that's just what's got me. It was a sort o' + dreamy, spicy smell, like a hot night. But as I couldn't go 'round 'mong + you boys with a lighted piece o' punk in my hand, ez if I was settin' off + Fourth of July firecrackers, I asked him if he couldn't fix me up suthin' + in another shape that would be handier to use when I was took bad, and I'd + reckon to pay him for it like ez I'd pay for any other patent medicine. So + he fixed me up this.” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand in his pocket, and drew out a small red paper which, when + opened, disclosed a pink powder. It was gravely passed around the group. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it smells and tastes like ginger,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “It is only ginger!” said another scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe it is, and mebbe it isn't,” returned Cy Parker stoutly. “Mebbe ut's + only my fancy. But if it's the sort o' stuff to bring on that fancy, and + that fancy CURES me, it's all the same. I've got about two dollars' worth + o' that fancy or that ginger, and I'm going to stick to it. You hear me!” + And he carefully put it back in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + At which criticisms and gibes broke forth. If he (Cy Parker), a white man, + was going to “demean himself” by consulting a Chinese quack, he'd better + buy up a lot o' idols and stand 'em up around his cabin. If he had that + sort o' confidences with See Yup, he ought to go to work with him on his + cheap tailings, and be fumigated all at the same time. If he'd been + smoking an opium pipe, instead of smelling punk, he ought to be man enough + to confess it. Yet it was noticeable that they were all very anxious to + examine the packet again, but Cy Parker was alike indifferent to demand or + entreaty. + </p> + <p> + A few days later I saw Abe Wynford, one of the party, coming out of See + Yup's wash-house. He muttered something in passing about the infamous + delay in sending home his washing, but did not linger long in + conversation. The next day I met another miner AT the wash-house, but HE + lingered so long on some trifling details that I finally left him there + alone with See Yup. When I called upon Poker Jack of Shasta, there was a + singular smell of incense in HIS cabin, which he attributed to the very + resinous quality of the fir logs he was burning. I did not attempt to + probe these mysteries by any direct appeal to See Yup himself: I respected + his reticence; indeed, if I had not, I was quite satisfied that he would + have lied to me. Enough that his wash-house was well patronized, and he + was decidedly “getting on.” + </p> + <p> + It might have been a month afterwards that Dr. Duchesne was setting a + broken bone in the settlement, and after the operation was over, had + strolled into the Palmetto Saloon. He was an old army surgeon, much + respected and loved in the district, although perhaps a little feared for + the honest roughness and military precision of his speech. After he had + exchanged salutations with the miners in his usual hearty fashion, and + accepted their invitation to drink, Cy Parker, with a certain affected + carelessness which did not, however, conceal a singular hesitation in his + speech, began:— + </p> + <p> + “I've been wantin' to ask ye a question, Doc,—a sort o' darned fool + question, ye know,—nothing in the way of consultation, don't you + see, though it's kin er in the way o' your purfeshun. Sabe?” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Cy,” said the doctor good-humoredly, “this is my dispensary hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it ain't anything about symptoms, Doc, and there ain't anything the + matter with me. It's only just to ask ye if ye happened to know anything + about the medical practice of these yer Chinamen?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said the doctor bluntly, “and I don't know ANYBODY who + does.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden silence in the bar, and the doctor, putting down his + glass, continued with slight professional precision:— + </p> + <p> + “You see, the Chinese know nothing of anatomy from personal observation. + Autopsies and dissection are against their superstitions, which declare + the human body sacred, and are consequently never practiced.” + </p> + <p> + There was a slight movement of inquiring interest among the party, and Cy + Parker, after a meaning glance at the others, went on half aggressively, + half apologetically:— + </p> + <p> + “In course, they ain't surgeons like you, Doc, but that don't keep them + from having their own little medicines, just as dogs eat grass, you know. + Now I want to put it to you, as a fa'r-minded man, if you mean ter say + that, jest because those old women who sarve out yarbs and spring + medicines in families don't know anything of anatomy, they ain't fit to + give us their simple and nat'ral medicines?” + </p> + <p> + “But the Chinese medicines are not simple or natural,” said the doctor + coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Not simple?” echoed the party, closing round him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean to say,” continued the doctor, glancing around at their + eager, excited faces with an appearance of wonder, “that they are + positively noxious, unless taken in large quantities, for they are not + drugs at all, but I certainly should not call them 'simple.' Do YOU know + what they principally are?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no,” said Parker cautiously, “perhaps not EXACTLY.” + </p> + <p> + “Come a little closer, and I'll tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Not only Parker's head but the others were bent over the counter. Dr. + Duchesne uttered a few words in a tone inaudible to the rest of the + company. There was a profound silence, broken at last by Abe Wynford's + voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Ye kin pour me out about three fingers o' whiskey, Barkeep. I'll take it + straight.” + </p> + <p> + “Same to me,” said the others. + </p> + <p> + The men gulped down their liquor; two of them quietly passed out. The + doctor wiped his lips, buttoned his coat, and began to draw on his + riding-gloves. + </p> + <p> + “I've heerd,” said Poker Jack of Shasta, with a faint smile on his white + face, as he toyed with the last drops of liquor in his glass, “that the + darned fools sometimes smell punk as a medicine, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, THAT'S comparatively decent,” said the doctor reflectively. “It's + only sawdust mixed with a little gum and formic acid.” + </p> + <p> + “Formic acid? Wot's that?” + </p> + <p> + “A very peculiar acid secreted by ants. It is supposed to be used by them + offensively in warfare—just as the skunk, eh?” + </p> + <p> + But Poker Jack of Shasta had hurriedly declared that he wanted to speak to + a man who was passing, and had disappeared. The doctor walked to the door, + mounted his horse, and rode away. I noticed, however, that there was a + slight smile on his bronzed, impassive face. This led me to wonder if he + was entirely ignorant of the purpose for which he had been questioned, and + the effect of his information. I was confirmed in the belief by the + remarkable circumstances that nothing more was said of it; the incident + seemed to have terminated there, and the victims made no attempt to + revenge themselves on See Yup. That they had one and all, secretly and + unknown to one another, patronized him, there was no doubt; but, at the + same time, as they evidently were not sure that Dr. Duchesne had not + hoaxed them in regard to the quality of See Yup's medicines, they knew + that an attack on the unfortunate Chinaman would in either case reveal + their secret and expose them to the ridicule of their brother miners. So + the matter dropped, and See Yup remained master of the situation. + </p> + <p> + Meantime he was prospering. The coolie gang he worked on the river, when + not engaged in washing clothes, were “picking over” the “tailings,” or + refuse of gravel, left on abandoned claims by successful miners. As there + was no more expense attending this than in stone-breaking or rag-picking, + and the feeding of the coolies, which was ridiculously cheap, there was no + doubt that See Yup was reaping a fair weekly return from it; but, as he + sent his receipts to San Francisco through coolie managers, after the + Chinese custom, and did not use the regular Express Company, there was no + way of ascertaining the amount. Again, neither See Yup nor his fellow + countrymen ever appeared to have any money about them. In ruder times and + more reckless camps, raids were often made by ruffians on their cabins or + their traveling gangs, but never with any pecuniary result. This + condition, however, it seemed was destined to change. + </p> + <p> + One Saturday See Yup walked into Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express office + with a package of gold-dust, which, when duly weighed, was valued at five + hundred dollars. It was consigned to a Chinese company in San Francisco. + When the clerk handed See Yup a receipt, he remarked casually:— + </p> + <p> + “Washing seems to pay, See Yup.” + </p> + <p> + “Washee velly good pay. You wantee washee, John?” said See Yup eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said the clerk, with a laugh. “I was only thinking five hundred + dollars would represent the washing of a good many shirts.” + </p> + <p> + “No leplesent washee shirts at all! Catchee gold-dust when washee + tailings. Shabbee?” + </p> + <p> + The clerk DID “shabbee,” and lifted his eyebrows. The next Saturday See + Yup appeared with another package, worth about four hundred dollars, + directed to the same consignee. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't pan out quite so rich this week, eh?” said the clerk engagingly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” returned See Yup impassively; “next time he payee more.” + </p> + <p> + When the third Saturday came, with the appearance of See Yup and four + hundred and fifty dollars' worth of gold-dust, the clerk felt he was no + longer bound to keep the secret. He communicated it to others, and in + twenty-four hours the whole settlement knew that See Yup's coolie company + were taking out an average of four hundred dollars per week from the + refuse and tailings of the old abandoned Palmetto claim! + </p> + <p> + The astonishment of the settlement was profound. In earlier days jealousy + and indignation at the success of these degraded heathens might have taken + a more active and aggressive shape, and it would have fared ill with See + Yup and his companions. But the settlement had become more prosperous and + law-abiding; there were one or two Eastern families and some foreign + capital already there, and its jealousy and indignation were restricted to + severe investigation and legal criticism. Fortunately for See Yup, it was + an old-established mining law that an abandoned claim and its tailings + became the property of whoever chose to work it. But it was alleged that + See Yup's company had in reality “struck a lead,”—discovered a + hitherto unknown vein or original deposit of gold, not worked by the + previous company, and having failed legally to declare it by preemption + and public registry, in their foolish desire for secrecy, had thus + forfeited their right to the property. A surveillance of their working, + however, did not establish this theory; the gold that See Yup had sent + away was of the kind that might have been found in the tailings overlooked + by the late Palmetto owners. Yet it was a very large yield for mere + refuse. + </p> + <p> + “Them Palmetto boys were mighty keerless after they'd made their big + 'strike' and got to work on the vein, and I reckon they threw a lot of + gold away,” said Cy Parker, who remembered their large-handed recklessness + in the “flush days.” “On'y that WE didn't think it was white man's work to + rake over another man's leavin's, we might hev had what them derned + Chinamen hev dropped into. Tell ye what, boys, we've been a little too + 'high and mighty,' and we'll hev to climb down.” + </p> + <p> + At last the excitement reached its climax, and diplomacy was employed to + effect what neither intimidation nor espionage could secure. Under the + pretense of desiring to buy out See Yup's company, a select committee of + the miners was permitted to examine the property and its workings. They + found the great bank of stones and gravel, representing the cast-out + debris of the old claim, occupied by See Yup and four or five plodding + automatic coolies. At the end of two hours the committee returned to the + saloon bursting with excitement. They spoke under their breath, but enough + was gathered to satisfy the curious crowd that See Yup's pile of tailings + was rich beyond their expectations. The committee had seen with their own + eyes gold taken out of the sand and gravel to the amount of twenty dollars + in the two short hours of their examination. And the work had been + performed in the stupidest, clumsiest, yet PATIENT Chinese way. What might + not white men do with better appointed machinery! A syndicate was at once + formed. See Yup was offered twenty thousand dollars if he would sell out + and put the syndicate in possession of the claim in twenty-four hours. The + Chinaman received the offer stolidly. As he seemed inclined to hesitate, I + am grieved to say that it was intimated to him that if he declined he + might be subject to embarrassing and expensive legal proceedings to prove + his property, and that companies would be formed to “prospect” the ground + on either side of his heap of tailings. See Yup at last consented, with + the proviso that the money should be paid in gold into the hands of a + Chinese agent in San Francisco on the day of the delivery of the claim. + The syndicate made no opposition to this characteristic precaution of the + Chinaman. It was like them not to travel with money, and the implied + uncomplimentary suspicion of danger from the community was overlooked. See + Yup departed the day that the syndicate took possession. He came to see me + before he went. I congratulated him upon his good fortune; at the same + time, I was embarrassed by the conviction that he was unfairly forced into + a sale of his property at a figure far below its real value. + </p> + <p> + I think differently now. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the week it was said that the new company cleared up about + three hundred dollars. This was not so much as the community had expected, + but the syndicate was apparently satisfied, and the new machinery was put + up. At the end of the next week the syndicate were silent as to their + returns. One of them made a hurried visit to San Francisco. It was said + that he was unable to see either See Yup or the agent to whom the money + was paid. It was also noticed that there was no Chinaman remaining in the + settlement. Then the fatal secret was out. + </p> + <p> + The heap of tailings had probably never yielded the See Yup company more + than twenty dollars a week, the ordinary wage of such a company. See Yup + had conceived the brilliant idea of “booming” it on a borrowed capital of + five hundred dollars in gold-dust, which he OPENLY transmitted by express + to his confederate and creditor in San Francisco, who in turn SECRETLY + sent it back to See Yup by coolie messengers, to be again openly + transmitted to San Francisco. The package of gold-dust was thus passed + backwards and forwards between debtor and creditor, to the grave + edification of the Express Company and the fatal curiosity of the + settlement. When the syndicate had gorged the bait thus thrown out, See + Yup, on the day the self-invited committee inspected the claim, promptly + “salted” the tailings by CONSCIENTIOUSLY DISTRIBUTING THE GOLD-DUST OVER + IT so deftly that it appeared to be its natural composition and yield. + </p> + <p> + I have only to bid farewell to See Yup, and close this reminiscence of a + misunderstood man, by adding the opinion of an eminent jurist in San + Francisco, to whom the facts were submitted: “So clever was this alleged + fraud, that it is extremely doubtful if an action would lie against See + Yup in the premises, there being no legal evidence of the 'salting,' and + none whatever of his actual allegation that the gold-dust was the ORDINARY + yield of the tailings, that implication resting entirely with the + committee who examined it under false pretense, and who subsequently + forced the sale by intimidation.” + </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> + THE DESBOROUGH CONNECTIONS + </h2> + <p> + “Then it isn't a question of property or next of kin?” said the consul. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! no,” said the lady vivaciously. “Why, goodness me! I reckon old + Desborough could, at any time before he died, have 'bought up' or 'bought + out' the whole lot of his relatives on this side of the big pond, no + matter what they were worth. No, it's only a matter of curiosity and just + sociableness.” + </p> + <p> + The American consul at St. Kentigorn felt much relieved. He had feared it + was only the old story of delusive quests for imaginary estates and + impossible inheritances which he had confronted so often in nervous + wan-eyed enthusiasts and obstreperous claimants from his own land. + Certainly there was no suggestion of this in the richly dressed and + be-diamonded matron before him, nor in her pretty daughter, charming in a + Paris frock, alive with the consciousness of beauty and admiration, and + yet a little ennuye from gratified indulgence. He knew the mother to be + the wealthy widow of a New York millionaire, that she was traveling for + pleasure in Europe, and a chance meeting with her at dinner a few nights + before had led to this half-capricious, half-confidential appointment at + the consulate. + </p> + <p> + “No,” continued Mrs. Desborough; “Mr. Desborough came to America, when a + small boy, with an uncle who died some years ago. Mr. Desborough never + seemed to hanker much after his English relatives as long as I knew him, + but now that I and Sadie are over here, why we guessed we might look 'em + up and sort of sample 'em! 'Desborough' 's rather a good name,” added the + lady, with a complacency that, however, had a suggestion of query in it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the consul; “from the French, I fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Desborough was English—very English,” corrected the lady. + </p> + <p> + “I mean it may be an old Norman name,” said the consul. + </p> + <p> + “Norman's good enough for ME,” said the daughter, reflecting. “We'll just + settle it as Norman. I never thought about that DES.” + </p> + <p> + “Only you may find it called 'Debborough' here, and spelt so,” said the + consul, smiling. + </p> + <p> + Miss Desborough lifted her pretty shoulders and made a charming grimace. + “Then we won't acknowledge 'em. No Debborough for me!” + </p> + <p> + “You might put an advertisement in the papers, like the 'next of kin' + notice, intimating, in the regular way, that they would 'hear of something + to their advantage'—as they certainly would,” continued the consul, + with a bow. “It would be such a refreshing change to the kind of thing I'm + accustomed to, don't you know—this idea of one of my countrywomen + coming over just to benefit English relatives! By Jove! I wouldn't mind + undertaking the whole thing for you—it's such a novelty.” He was + quite carried away with the idea. + </p> + <p> + But the two ladies were far from participating in this joyous outlook. + “No,” said Mrs. Desborough promptly, “that wouldn't do. You see,” she went + on with superb frankness, “that would be just giving ourselves away, and + saying who WE were before we found out what THEY were like. Mr. Desborough + was all right in HIS way, but we don't know anything about his FOLKS! We + ain't here on a mission to improve the Desboroughs, nor to gather in any + 'lost tribes.'” + </p> + <p> + It was evident that, in spite of the humor of the situation and the levity + of the ladies, there was a characteristic national practicalness about + them, and the consul, with a sigh, at last gave the address of one or two + responsible experts in genealogical inquiry, as he had often done before. + He felt it was impossible to offer any advice to ladies as thoroughly + capable of managing their own affairs as his fair countrywomen, yet he was + not without some curiosity to know the result of their practical + sentimental quest. That he should ever hear of them again he doubted. He + knew that after their first loneliness had worn off in their gregarious + gathering at a London hotel they were not likely to consort with their own + country people, who indeed were apt to fight shy of one another, and even + to indulge in invidious criticism of one another when admitted in that + society to which they were all equally strangers. So he took leave of them + on their way back to London with the belief that their acquaintance + terminated with that brief incident. But he was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + In the year following he was spending his autumn vacation at a country + house. It was an historic house, and had always struck him as being—even + in that country of historic seats—a singular example of the + vicissitudes of English manorial estates and the mutations of its lords. + His host in his prime had been recalled from foreign service to + unexpectedly succeed to an uncle's title and estate. That estate, however, + had come into the possession of the uncle only through his marriage with + the daughter of an old family whose portraits still looked down from the + walls upon the youngest and alien branch. There were likenesses, effigies, + memorials, and reminiscences of still older families who had occupied it + through forfeiture by war or the favoritism of kings, and in its stately + cloisters and ruined chapel was still felt the dead hand of its evicted + religious founders, which could not be shaken off. + </p> + <p> + It was this strange individuality that affected all who saw it. For, + however changed were those within its walls, whoever were its inheritors + or inhabiters, Scrooby Priory never changed nor altered its own character. + However incongruous or ill-assorted the portraits that looked from its + walls,—so ill met that they might have flown at one another's + throats in the long nights when the family were away,—the great + house itself was independent of them all. The be-wigged, be-laced, and + be-furbelowed of one day's gathering, the round-headed, steel-fronted, and + prim-kerchiefed congregation of another day, and even the black-coated, + bare-armed, and bare-shouldered assemblage of to-day had no effect on the + austerities of the Priory. Modern houses might show the tastes and + prepossessions of their dwellers, might have caught some passing trick of + the hour, or have recorded the augmented fortunes or luxuriousness of the + owner, but Scrooby Priory never! No one had dared even to disturb its + outer rigid integrity; the breaches of time and siege were left untouched. + It held its calm indifferent sway over all who passed its low-arched + portals, and the consul was fain to believe that he—a foreign + visitor—was no more alien to the house than its present owner. + </p> + <p> + “I'm expecting a very charming compatriot of yours to-morrow,” said Lord + Beverdale as they drove from the station together. “You must tell me what + to show her.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think any countrywoman of mine would be quite satisfied with the + Priory,” said the consul, glancing thoughtfully towards the pile dimly + seen through the park. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't like her to be bored here,” continued Beverdale. “Algy met + her at Rome, where she was occupying a palace with her mother—they're + very rich, you know. He found she was staying with Lady Minever at Hedham + Towers, and I went over and invited her with a little party. She's a Miss + Desborough.” + </p> + <p> + The consul gave a slight start, and was aware that Beverdale was looking + at him. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you know her?” said Beverdale. + </p> + <p> + “Just enough to agree with you that she is charming,” said the consul. “I + dined with them, and saw them at the consulate.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes; I always forget you are a consul. Then, of course, you know all + about them. I suppose they're very rich, and in society over there?” said + Beverdale in a voice that was quite animated. + </p> + <p> + It was on the consul's lips to say that the late Mr. Desborough was an + Englishman, and even to speak playfully of their proposed quest, but a + sudden instinct withheld him. After all, perhaps it was only a caprice, or + idea, they had forgotten,—perhaps, who knows?—that they were + already ashamed of. They had evidently “got on” in English society, if + that was their real intent, and doubtless Miss Desborough, by this time, + was quite as content with the chance of becoming related to the Earl of + Beverdale, through his son and heir, Algernon, as if they had found a real + Lord Desborough among their own relatives. The consul knew that Lord + Beverdale was not a rich man, that like most men of old family he was not + a slave to class prejudice; indeed, the consul had seen very few noblemen + off the stage or out of the pages of a novel who were. So he said, with a + slight affectation of authority, that there was as little doubt of the + young lady's wealth as there was of her personal attractions. + </p> + <p> + They were nearing the house through a long avenue of chestnuts whose + variegated leaves were already beginning to strew the ground beneath, and + they could see the vista open upon the mullioned windows of the Priory, + lighted up by the yellow October sunshine. In that sunshine stood a tall, + clean-limbed young fellow, dressed in a shooting-suit, whom the consul + recognized at once as Lord Algernon, the son of his companion. As if to + accent the graces of this vision of youth and vigor, near him, in the + shadow, an old man had halted, hat in hand, still holding the rake with + which he had been gathering the dead leaves in the avenue; his back bent, + partly with years, partly with the obeisance of a servitor. There was + something so marked in this contrast, in this old man standing in the + shadow of the fading year, himself as dried and withered as the leaves he + was raking, yet pausing to make his reverence to this passing sunshine of + youth and prosperity in the presence of his coming master, that the + consul, as they swept by, looked after him with a stirring of pain. + </p> + <p> + “Rather an old man to be still at work,” said the consul. + </p> + <p> + Beverdale laughed. “You must not let him hear you say so; he considers + himself quite as fit as any younger man in the place, and, by Jove! though + he's nearly eighty, I'm inclined to believe it. He's not one of our + people, however; he comes from the village, and is taken on at odd times, + partly to please himself. His great aim is to be independent of his + children,—he has a granddaughter who is one of the maids at the + Priory,—and to keep himself out of the workhouse. He does not come + from these parts—somewhere farther north, I fancy. But he's a tough + lot, and has a deal of work in him yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to be going a bit stale lately,” said Lord Algernon, “and I think + is getting a little queer in his head. He has a trick of stopping and + staring straight ahead, at times, when he seems to go off for a minute or + two. There!” continued the young man, with a light laugh. “I say! he's + doing it now!” They both turned quickly and gazed at the bent figure—not + fifty yards away—standing in exactly the same attitude as before. + But, even as they gazed, he slowly lifted his rake and began his + monotonous work again. + </p> + <p> + At Scrooby Priory, the consul found that the fame of his fair countrywoman + had indeed preceded her, and that the other guests were quite as anxious + to see Miss Desborough as he was. One of them had already met her in + London; another knew her as one of the house party at the Duke of + Northforeland's, where she had been a central figure. Some of her naive + sallies and frank criticisms were repeated with great unction by the + gentlemen, and with some slight trepidation and a “fearful joy” by the + ladies. He was more than ever convinced that mother and daughter had + forgotten their lineal Desboroughs, and he resolved to leave any allusion + to it to the young lady herself. + </p> + <p> + She, however, availed herself of that privilege the evening after her + arrival. “Who'd have thought of meeting YOU here?” she said, sweeping her + skirts away to make room for him on a sofa. “It's a coon's age since I saw + you—not since you gave us that letter to those genealogical + gentlemen in London.” + </p> + <p> + The consul hoped that it had proved successful. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but maw guessed we didn't care to go back to Hengist and Horsa, and + when they let loose a lot of 'Debboroughs' and 'Daybrooks' upon us, maw + kicked! We've got a drawing ten yards long, that looks like a sour apple + tree, with lots of Desboroughs hanging up on the branches like last year's + pippins, and I guess about as worm-eaten. We took that well enough, but + when it came to giving us a map of straight lines and dashes with names + written under them like an old Morse telegraph slip, struck by lightning, + then maw and I guessed that it made us tired. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” she went on, opening her clear gray eyes on the consul, with a + characteristic flash of shrewd good sense through her quaint humor, “we + never reckoned where this thing would land us, and we found we were paying + a hundred pounds, not only for the Desboroughs, but all the people they'd + MARRIED, and their CHILDREN, and children's children, and there were a lot + of outsiders we'd never heard of, nor wanted to hear of. Maw once thought + she'd got on the trail of a Plantagenet, and followed it keen, until she + found she had been reading the dreadful thing upside down. Then we + concluded we wouldn't take any more stock in the family until it had + risen.” + </p> + <p> + During this speech the consul could not help noticing that, although her + attitude was playfully confidential to him, her voice really was pitched + high enough to reach the ears of smaller groups around her, who were not + only following her with the intensest admiration, but had shamelessly + abandoned their own conversation, and had even faced towards her. Was she + really posing in her naivete? There was a certain mischievous, even + aggressive, consciousness in her pretty eyelids. Then she suddenly dropped + both eyes and voice, and said to the consul in a genuine aside, “I like + this sort of thing much better.” + </p> + <p> + The consul looked puzzled. “What sort of thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, all these swell people, don't you see? those pictures on the walls! + this elegant room! everything that has come down from the past, all ready + and settled for you, you know—ages ago! Something you haven't to + pick up for yourself and worry over.” + </p> + <p> + But here the consul pointed out that the place itself was not “ancestral” + as regarded the present earl, and that even the original title of his + predecessors had passed away from it. “In fact, it came into the family by + one of those 'outsiders' you deprecate. But I dare say you'd find the + place quite as comfortable with Lord Beverdale for a host as you would if + you had found out he were a cousin,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Better,” said the young lady frankly. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose your mother participates in these preferences?” said the + consul, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Miss Desborough, with the same frankness, “I think maw's rather + cut up at not finding a Desborough. She was invited down here, but SHE'S + rather independent, you know, so she allowed I could take care of myself, + while she went off to stay with the old Dowager Lady Mistowe, who thinks + maw a very proper womanly person. I made maw mad by telling her that's + just what old Lady Mistowe would say of her cook—for I can't stand + these people's patronage. However, I shouldn't wonder if I was invited + here as a 'most original person.'” + </p> + <p> + But here Lord Algernon came up to implore her to sing them one of “those + plantation songs;” and Miss Desborough, with scarcely a change of voice or + manner, allowed herself to be led to the piano. The consul had little + chance to speak with her again, but he saw enough that evening to convince + him not only that Lord Algernon was very much in love with her, but that + the fact had been equally and complacently accepted by the family and + guests. That her present visit was only an opportunity for a formal + engagement was clear to every woman in the house—not excepting, I + fear, even the fair subject of gossip herself. Yet she seemed so + unconcerned and self-contained that the consul wondered if she really + cared for Lord Algernon. And having thus wondered, he came to the + conclusion that it didn't much matter, for the happiness of so practically + organized a young lady, if she loved him or not. + </p> + <p> + It is highly probable that Miss Sadie Desborough had not even gone so far + as to ask herself that question. She awoke the next morning with a sense + of easy victory and calm satisfaction that had, however, none of the + transports of affection. Her taste was satisfied by the love of a handsome + young fellow,—a typical Englishman,—who, if not exactly + original or ideal, was, she felt, of an universally accepted, + “hall-marked” standard, the legitimate outcome of a highly ordered, + carefully guarded civilization, whose repose was the absence of struggle + or ambition; a man whose regular features were not yet differentiated from + the rest of his class by any of those disturbing lines which people call + character. Everything was made ready for her, without care or preparation; + she had not even an ideal to realize or to modify. She could slip without + any jar or dislocation into this life which was just saved from + self-indulgence and sybaritic luxury by certain conventional rules of + activity and the occupation of amusement which, as obligations of her + position, even appeared to suggest the novel aspect of a DUTY! She could + accept all this without the sense of being an intruder in an unbroken + lineage—thanks to the consul's account of the Beverdales' + inheritance. She already pictured herself as the mistress of this fair + domain, the custodian of its treasures and traditions, and the dispenser + of its hospitalities, but—as she conscientiously believed—without + pride or vanity, in her position; only an intense and thoughtful + appreciation of it. Nor did she dream of ever displaying it ostentatiously + before her less fortunate fellow countrywomen; on the contrary, she looked + forward to their possible criticism of her casting off all transatlantic + ties with an uneasy consciousness that was perhaps her nearest approach to + patriotism. Yet, again, she reasoned that, as her father was an + Englishman, she was only returning to her old home. As to her mother, she + had already comforted herself by noticing certain discrepancies in that + lady's temperament, which led her to believe that she herself alone + inherited her father's nature—for her mother was, of course, + distinctly American! So little conscious was she of any possible + snobbishness in this belief, that in her superb naivete she would have + argued the point with the consul, and employed a wit and dialect that were + purely American. + </p> + <p> + She had slipped out of the Priory early that morning that she might enjoy + alone, unattended and unciceroned, the aspect of that vast estate which + might be hers for the mere accepting. Perhaps there was some instinct of + delicacy in her avoiding Lord Algernon that morning; not wishing, as she + herself might have frankly put it, “to take stock” of his inheritance in + his presence. As she passed into the garden through the low postern door, + she turned to look along the stretching facade of the main building, with + the high stained windows of its banqueting-hall and the state chamber + where a king had slept. Even in that crisp October air, and with the green + of its ivied battlements against the gold of the distant wood, it seemed + to lie in the languid repose of an eternal summer. She hurried on down the + other terrace into the Italian garden, a quaint survival of past grandeur, + passed the great orangery and numerous conservatories, making a crystal + hamlet in themselves—seeing everywhere the same luxury. But it was a + luxury that she fancied was redeemed from the vulgarity of ostentation by + the long custom of years and generations, so unlike the millionaire + palaces of her own land; and, in her enthusiasm, she even fancied it was + further sanctified by the grim monastic founders who had once been content + with bread and pulse in the crumbling and dismantled refectory. In the + plenitude of her feelings she felt a slight recognition of some beneficent + being who had rolled this golden apple at her feet, and felt as if she + really should like to “do good” in her sphere. + </p> + <p> + It so chanced that, passing through a small gate in the park, she saw + walking, a little ahead of her, a young girl whom she at once recognized + as a Miss Amelyn, one of the guests of the evening before. Miss Desborough + remembered that she played the accompaniment of one or two songs upon the + piano, and had even executed a long solo during the general conversation, + without attention from the others, and apparently with little irritation + to herself, subsiding afterwards into an armchair, quite on the fringe of + other people's conversation. She had been called “my dear” by one or two + dowagers, and by her Christian name by the earl, and had a way of + impalpably melting out of sight at times. These trifles led Miss + Desborough to conclude that she was some kind of dependent or poor + relation. Here was an opportunity to begin her work of “doing good.” She + quickened her pace and overtook Miss Amelyn. + </p> + <p> + “Let me walk with you,” she said graciously. + </p> + <p> + The young English girl smiled assent, but looked her surprise at seeing + the cynosure of last night's eyes unattended. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Sadie, answering the mute query, “I didn't want to be 'shown + round' by anybody, and I'm not going to bore YOU with asking to see sights + either. We'll just walk together; wherever YOU'RE going is good enough for + me.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going as far as the village,” said Miss Amelyn, looking down + doubtfully at Sadie's smart French shoes—“if you care to walk so + far.” + </p> + <p> + Sadie noticed that her companion was more solidly booted, and that her + straight, short skirts, although less stylish than her own, had a certain + character, better fitted to the freer outdoor life of the country. But she + only said, however, “The village will do,” and gayly took her companion's + arm. + </p> + <p> + “But I'm afraid you'll find it very uninteresting, for I am going to visit + some poor cottages,” persisted Miss Amelyn, with a certain timid + ingenuousness of manner which, however, was as distinct as Miss + Desborough's bolder frankness. “I promised the rector's daughter to take + her place to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “And I feel as if I was ready to pour oil and wine to any extent,” said + Miss Desborough, “so come along!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Amelyn laughed, and yet glanced around her timidly, as if she thought + that Miss Desborough ought to have a larger and more important audience. + Then she continued more confidentially and boldly, “But it isn't at all + like 'slumming,' you know. These poor people here are not very bad, and + are not at all extraordinary.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said Sadie, hurrying her along. After a pause she went on, + “You know the Priory very well, I guess?” + </p> + <p> + “I lived there when I was a little girl, with my aunt, the Dowager Lady + Beverdale,” said Miss Amelyn. “When my cousin Fred, who was the young + heir, died, and the present Lord Beverdale succeeded,—HE never + expected it, you know, for there were two lives, his two elder brothers, + besides poor Fred's, between, but they both died,—we went to live in + the Dower House.” + </p> + <p> + “The Dower House?” repeated Sadie. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Lady Beverdale's separate property.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought all this property—the Priory—came into the + family through HER.” + </p> + <p> + “It did—this was the Amelyns' place; but the oldest son or nearest + male heir always succeeds to the property and title.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that the present Lord Beverdale turned that old lady + out?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Amelyn looked shocked. “I mean to say,” she said gravely, “Lady + Beverdale would have had to go when her own son became of age, had he + lived.” She paused, and then said timidly, “Isn't it that way in America?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear no!” Miss Desborough had a faint recollection that there was + something in the Constitution or the Declaration of Independence against + primogeniture. “No! the men haven't it ALL their own way THERE—not + much!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Amelyn looked as if she did not care to discuss this problem. After a + few moments Sadie continued, “You and Lord Algernon are pretty old + friends, I guess?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Miss Amelyn. “He came once or twice to the Priory for the + holidays, when he was quite a boy at Marlborough—for the family + weren't very well off, and his father was in India. He was a very shy boy, + and of course no one ever thought of him succeeding.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Desborough felt half inclined to be pleased with this, and yet half + inclined to resent this possible snubbing of her future husband. But they + were nearing the village, and Miss Amelyn turned the conversation to the + object of her visit. It was a new village—an unhandsome village, for + all that it stood near one of the gates of the park. It had been given + over to some mines that were still worked in its vicinity, and to the + railway, which the uncle of the present earl had resisted; but the railway + had triumphed, and the station for Scrooby Priory was there. There was a + grim church, of a blackened or weather-beaten stone, on the hill, with a + few grim Amelyns reposing cross-legged in the chancel, but the character + of the village was as different from the Priory as if it were in another + county. They stopped at the rectory, where Miss Amelyn provided herself + with certain doles and gifts, which the American girl would have augmented + with a five-pound note but for Miss Amelyn's horrified concern. “As many + shillings would do, and they would be as grateful,” she said. “More they + wouldn't understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then keep it, and dole it out as you like,” said Sadie quickly. + </p> + <p> + “But I don't think that—that Lord Beverdale would quite approve,” + hesitated Miss Amelyn. + </p> + <p> + The pretty brow of her companion knit, and her gray eyes flashed + vivaciously. “What has HE to do with it?” she said pertly; “besides, you + say these are not HIS poor. Take that five-pound note—or—I'll + DOUBLE it, get it changed into sovereigns at the station, and hand 'em + round to every man, woman, and child.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Amelyn hesitated. The American girl looked capable of doing what she + said; perhaps it was a national way of almsgiving! She took the note, with + the mental reservation of making a full confession to the rector and Lord + Beverdale. + </p> + <p> + She was right in saying that the poor of Scrooby village were not + interesting. There was very little squalor or degradation; their poverty + seemed not a descent, but a condition to which they had been born; the + faces which Sadie saw were dulled and apathetic rather than sullen or + rebellious; they stood up when Miss Amelyn entered, paying HER the + deference, but taking little note of the pretty butterfly who was with + her, or rather submitting to her frank curiosity with that dull consent of + the poor, as if they had lost even the sense of privacy, or a right to + respect. It seemed to the American girl that their poverty was more + indicated by what they were SATISFIED with than what she thought they + MISSED. It is to be feared that this did not add to Sadie's sympathy; all + the beggars she had seen in America wanted all they could get, and she + felt as if she were confronted with an inferior animal. + </p> + <p> + “There's a wonderful old man lives here,” said Miss Amelyn, as they halted + before a stone and thatch cottage quite on the outskirts of the village. + “We can't call him one of our poor, for he still works, although over + eighty, and it's his pride to keep out of the poorhouse, and, as he calls + it, 'off' the hands of his granddaughters. But we manage to do something + for THEM, and we hope he profits by it. One of them is at the Priory; + they're trying to make a maid of her, but her queer accent—they're + from the north—is against her with the servants. I am afraid we + won't see old Debs, for he's at work again to-day, though the doctor has + warned him.” + </p> + <p> + “Debs! What a funny name!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but as many of these people cannot read or write, the name is + carried by the ear, and not always correctly. Some of the railway navvies, + who come from the north as he does, call him 'Debbers.'” + </p> + <p> + They were obliged to descend into the cottage, which was so low that it + seemed to have sunk into the earth until its drooping eaves of thatch + mingled with the straw heap beside it. Debs was not at home. But his + granddaughter was there, who, after a preliminary “bob,” continued the + stirring of the pot before the fire in tentative silence. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to find that your grandfather has gone to work again in spite + of the doctor's orders,” said Miss Amelyn. + </p> + <p> + The girl continued to stir the pot, and then said without looking up, but + as if also continuing a train of aggressive thoughts with her occupation: + “Eay, but 'e's so set oop in 'issen 'ee doan't take orders from nobbut—leastways + doctor. Moinds 'em now moor nor a floy. Says 'ee knaws there nowt wrong + wi' 'is 'eart. Mout be roight—how'siver, sarten sewer, 'is 'EAD'S a' + in a muddle! Toims 'ee goes off stamrin' and starin' at nowt, as if 'ee + a'nt a n'aporth o' sense. How'siver I be doing my duty by 'em—and + 'ere's 'is porritch when a' cooms—'gin a' be sick or maad.” + </p> + <p> + What the American understood of the girl's speech and manner struck her as + having very little sympathy with either her aged relative or her present + visitor. And there was a certain dogged selfish independence about her + that Miss Desborough half liked and half resented. However, Miss Amelyn + did not seem to notice it, and, after leaving a bottle of port for the + grandfather, she took her leave and led Sadie away. As they passed into + the village a carriage, returning to the Priory, filled with their fellow + guests, dashed by, but was instantly pulled up at a word from Lord + Algernon, who leaped from the vehicle, hat in hand, and implored the fair + truant and her companion to join them. + </p> + <p> + “We're just making a tour around Windover Hill, and back to luncheon,” he + said, with a rising color. “We missed you awfully! If we had known you + were so keen on 'good works,' and so early at it, by Jove! we'd have got + up a 'slummin' party,' and all joined!” + </p> + <p> + “And you haven't seen half,” said Lord Beverdale from the box. “Miss + Amelyn's too partial to the village. There's an old drunken retired + poacher somewhere in a hut in Crawley Woods, whom it's death to approach, + except with a large party. There's malignant diphtheria over at the South + Farm, eight down with measles at the keeper's, and an old woman who has + been bedridden for years.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Desborough was adamant, though sparkling. She thanked him, but + said she had just seen an old woman “who had been lying in bed for twenty + years, and hadn't spoken the truth once!” She proposed “going outside of + Lord Beverdale's own preserves of grain-fed poor,” and starting up her own + game. She would return in time for luncheon—if she could; if not, + she “should annex the gruel of the first kind incapable she met.” + </p> + <p> + Yet, actually, she was far from displeased at being accidentally + discovered by these people while following out her capricious whim of the + morning. One or two elder ladies, who had fought shy of her frocks and her + frankness the evening before, were quite touched now by this butterfly who + was willing to forego the sunlight of society, and soil her pretty wings + on the haunts of the impoverished, with only a single companion,—of + her own sex!—and smiled approvingly. And in her present state of + mind, remembering her companion's timid attitude towards Lord Beverdale's + opinions, she was not above administering this slight snub to him in her + presence. + </p> + <p> + When they had driven away, with many regrets, Miss Amelyn was deeply + concerned. “I am afraid,” she said, with timid conscientiousness, “I have + kept you from going with them. And you must be bored with what you have + seen, I know. I don't believe you really care one bit for it—and you + are only doing it to please me.” + </p> + <p> + “Trot out the rest of your show,” said Sadie promptly, “and we'll wind up + by lunching with the rector.” + </p> + <p> + “He'd be too delighted,” said Miss Amelyn, with disaster written all over + her girlish, truthful face, “but—but—you know—it really + wouldn't be quite right to Lord Beverdale. You're his principal guest—you + know, and—they'd think I had taken you off.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Miss Desborough impetuously, “what's the matter with that inn—the + Red Lion? We can get a sandwich there, I guess. I'm not VERY hungry.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Amelyn looked horrified for a moment, and then laughed; but + immediately became concerned again. “No! listen to me, REALLY now! Let me + finish my round alone! You'll have ample time if you go NOW to reach the + Priory for luncheon. Do, please! It would be ever so much better for + everybody. I feel quite guilty as it is, and I suppose I am already in + Lord Beverdale's black books.” + </p> + <p> + The trouble in the young girl's face was unmistakable, and as it suited + Miss Desborough's purpose just as well to show her independence by + returning, as she had set out, alone, she consented to go. Miss Amelyn + showed her a short cut across the park, and they separated—to meet + at dinner. In this brief fellowship, the American girl had kept a certain + supremacy and half-fascination over the English girl, even while she was + conscious of an invincible character in Miss Amelyn entirely different + from and superior to her own. Certainly there was a difference in the two + peoples. Why else this inherited conscientious reverence for Lord + Beverdale's position, shown by Miss Amelyn, which she, an American alive + to its practical benefits, could not understand? Would Miss Amelyn and + Lord Algernon have made a better match? The thought irritated her, even + while she knew that she herself possessed the young man's affections, the + power to marry him, and, as she believed, kept her own independence in the + matter. + </p> + <p> + As she entered the iron gates at the lower end of the park, and glanced at + the interwoven cipher and crest of the Amelyns still above, she was + conscious that the wind was blowing more chill, and that a few clouds had + gathered. As she walked on down the long winding avenue, the sky became + overcast, and, in one of those strange contrasts of the English climate, + the glory of the whole day went out with the sunshine. The woods suddenly + became wrinkled and gray, the distant hills sombre, the very English turf + beneath her feet grew brown; a mile and a half away, through the opening + of the trees, the west part of the Priory looked a crumbling, ivy-eaten + ruin. A few drops of rain fell. She hurried on. Suddenly she remembered + that the avenue made a long circuit before approaching the house, and that + its lower end, where she was walking, was but a fringe of the park. + Consequently there must be a short cut across some fields and farm + buildings to the back of the park and the Priory. She at once diverged to + the right, presently found a low fence, which she clambered over, and + again found a footpath which led to a stile. Crossing that, she could see + the footpath now led directly to the Priory,—now a grim and austere + looking pile in the suddenly dejected landscape,—and that it was + probably used only by the servants and farmers. A gust of wind brought + some swift needles of rain to her cheek; she could see the sad hills + beyond the Priory already veiling their faces; she gathered her skirts and + ran. The next field was a long one, but beside the further stile was a + small clump of trees, the only ones between her and the park. Hurrying on + to that shelter, she saw that the stile was already occupied by a tall but + bent figure, holding a long stick in his hand, which gave him the + appearance, against the horizon, of the figure of Time leaning on his + scythe. As she came nearer she saw it was, indeed, an old man, half + resting on his rake. He was very rugged and weather-beaten, and although + near the shelter of the trees, apparently unmindful of the rain that was + falling on his bald head, and the limp cap he was holding uselessly in one + hand. He was staring at her, yet apparently unconscious of her presence. A + sudden instinct came upon her—it was “Debs”! + </p> + <p> + She went directly up to him, and with that frank common sense which + ordinarily distinguished her, took his cap from his hand and put it on his + head, grasped his arm firmly, and led him to the shelter of the tree. Then + she wiped the raindrops from his face with her handkerchief, shook out her + own dress and her wet parasol, and, propping her companion against the + tree, said:— + </p> + <p> + “There, Mr. Debs! I've heard of people who didn't know enough to come in + when it rained, but I never met one before.” + </p> + <p> + The old man started, lifted his hairy, sinewy arm, bared to the elbow, and + wiped his bare throat with the dry side of it. Then a look of intelligence—albeit + half aggressive—came into his face. “Wheer beest tha going?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + Something in his voice struck Sadie like a vague echo. Perhaps it was only + the queer dialect—or some resemblance to his granddaughter's voice. + She looked at him a little more closely as she said:— + </p> + <p> + “To the Priory.” + </p> + <p> + “Whaat?” + </p> + <p> + She pointed with her parasol to the gray pile in the distance. It was + possible that this demented peasant didn't even UNDERSTAND English. + </p> + <p> + “The hall. Oh, ay!” Suddenly his brows knit ominously as he faced her. + “An' wassist tha doin' drest oop in this foinery? Wheer gettist thee that + goawn? Thissen, or thy maester? Nowt even a napron, fit for thy wark as + maaid at serviss; an' parson a gettin' tha plaace at Hall! So thou'lt be + high and moity will tha! thou'lt not walk wi' maaids, but traipse by + thissen like a slut in the toon—dang tha!” + </p> + <p> + Although it was plain to Sadie that the old man, in his wandering + perception, had mistaken her for his granddaughter in service at the + Priory, there was still enough rudeness in his speech for her to have + resented it. But, strange to say, there was a kind of authority in it that + touched her with an uneasiness and repulsion that was stronger than any + other feeling. “I think you have mistaken me for some one else,” she said + hurriedly, yet wondering why she had admitted it, and even irritated at + the admission. “I am a stranger here, a visitor at the Priory. I called + with Miss Amelyn at your cottage, and saw your other granddaughter; that's + how I knew your name.” + </p> + <p> + The old man's face changed. A sad, senile smile of hopeless bewilderment + crept into his hard mouth; he plucked his limp cap from his head and let + it hang submissively in his fingers, as if it were his sole apology. Then + he tried to straighten himself, and said, “Naw offins, miss, naw offins! + If tha knaws mea tha'll knaw I'm grandfeyther to two galls as moight be + tha owern age; tha'll tell 'ee that old Debs at haaty years 'as warked and + niver lost a day as man or boy; has niver coome oopen 'em for n'aporth. + An' 'e'll keep out o' warkus till he doy. An' 'ee's put by enow to by wi' + his own feythers in Lanksheer, an' not liggen aloane in parson's + choorchyard.” + </p> + <p> + It was part of her uneasiness that, scarcely understanding or, indeed, + feeling any interest in these maundering details, she still seemed to have + an odd comprehension of his character and some reminiscent knowledge of + him, as if she were going through the repetition of some unpleasant dream. + Even his wrinkled face was becoming familiar to her. Some weird attraction + was holding her; she wanted to get away from it as much as she wanted to + analyze it. She glanced ostentatiously at the sky, prepared to open her + parasol, and began to edge cautiously away. + </p> + <p> + “Then tha beant from these pearts?” he said suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she said quickly and emphatically,—“no, I'm an American.” + </p> + <p> + The old man started and moved towards her, eagerly, his keen eyes breaking + through the film that at times obscured them. “'Merrikan! tha baist + 'Merrikan? Then tha knaws ma son John, 'ee war nowt but a bairn when + brether Dick took un to 'Merriky! Naw! Now! that wor fifty years sen!—niver + wroate to his old feyther—niver coomed back, 'Ee wor tall-loike, an' + thea said 'e feavored mea.” He stopped, threw up his head, and with his + skinny fingers drew back his long, straggling locks from his sunken + cheeks, and stared in her face. The quick transition of fascination, + repulsion, shock, and indefinable apprehension made her laugh + hysterically. To her terror he joined in it, and eagerly clasped her + wrists. “Eh, lass! tha knaws John—tha coomes from un to ole + grandfeyther. Who-rr-u! Eay! but tha tho't to fool mea, did tha, lass? + Whoy, I knoawed tha voice, for a' tha foine peacock feathers. So tha be + John's gell coom from Ameriky. Dear! a dear! Coom neaur, lass! let's see + what tha's loike. Eh, but thou'lt kiss tha grandfather, sewerly?” + </p> + <p> + A wild terror and undefined consternation had completely overpowered her! + But she made a desperate effort to free her wrists, and burst out madly:— + </p> + <p> + “Let me go! How dare you! I don't know you or yours! I'm nothing to you or + your kin! My name is Desborough—do you understand—do you hear + me, Mr. Debs?—DESBOROUGH!” + </p> + <p> + At the word the old man's fingers stiffened like steel around her wrists, + as he turned upon her a hard, invincible face. + </p> + <p> + “So thou'lt call thissen Des-borough, wilt tha? Let me tell tha, then, + that 'Debs,' 'Debban,' 'Debbrook,' and 'Des-borough' are all a seame! Ay! + thy feyther and thy feyther's feyther! Thou'lt be a Des-borough, will tha? + Dang tha! and look doon on tha kin, and dress thissen in silks o' shame! + Tell 'ee thou'rt an ass, gell! Don't tha hear? An ass! for all tha bean + John's bairn! An ass! that's what tha beast!” + </p> + <p> + With flashing eyes and burning cheeks she made one more supreme effort, + lifting her arms, freeing her wrists, and throwing the old man staggering + from her. Then she leaped the stile, turned, and fled through the rain. + But before she reached the end of the field she stopped! She had freed + herself—she was stronger than he—what had she to fear? He was + crazy! Yes, he MUST be crazy, and he had insulted her, but he was an old + man—and God knows what! Her heart was beating rapidly, her breath + was hurried, but she ran back to the stile. + </p> + <p> + He was not there. The field sloped away on either side of it. But she + could distinguish nothing in the pouring rain above the wind-swept meadow. + He must have gone home. Relieved for a moment she turned and hurried on + towards the Priory. + </p> + <p> + But at every step she was followed, not by the old man's presence, but by + what he had said to her, which she could not shake off as she had shaken + off his detaining fingers. Was it the ravings of insanity, or had she + stumbled unwittingly upon some secret—was it after all a SECRET? + Perhaps it was something they all knew, or would know later. And she had + come down here for this. For back of her indignation, back even of her + disbelief in his insanity, there was an awful sense of truth! The names he + had flung out, of “Debs,” “Debban,” and “Debbrook” now flashed upon her as + something she had seen before, but had not understood. Until she satisfied + herself of this, she felt she could not live or breathe! She loathed the + Priory, with its austere exclusiveness, as it rose before her; she wished + she had never entered it; but it contained that which she must know, and + know at once! She entered the nearest door and ran up the grand staircase. + Her flushed face and disordered appearance were easily accounted for by + her exposure to the sudden storm. She went to her bedroom, sent her maid + to another room to prepare a change of dress, and sinking down before her + traveling-desk, groped for a document. Ah! there it was—the + expensive toy that she had played with! She hastily ran over its leaves to + the page she already remembered. And there, among the dashes and + perpendicular lines she had jested over last night, on which she had + thought was a collateral branch of the line, stood her father's name and + that of Richard, his uncle, with the bracketed note in red ink, “see + Debbrook, Daybrook, Debbers, and Debs.” Yes! this gaunt, half-crazy, + overworked peasant, content to rake the dead leaves before the rolling + chariots of the Beverdales, was her grandfather; that poorly clad girl in + the cottage, and even the menial in the scullery of this very house that + might be HERS, were her COUSINS! She burst into a laugh, and then refolded + the document and put it away. + </p> + <p> + At luncheon she was radiant and sparkling. Her drenched clothes were an + excuse for a new and ravishing toilette. She had never looked so beautiful + before, and significant glances were exchanged between some of the guests, + who believed that the expected proposal had already come. But those who + were of the carriage party knew otherwise, and of Lord Algernon's + disappointment. Lord Beverdale contented himself with rallying his fair + guest on the becomingness of “good works.” But he continued, “You're + offering a dreadful example to these ladies, Miss Desborough, and I know I + shall never hereafter be able to content them with any frivolous morning + amusement at the Priory. For myself, when I am grown gouty and hideous, I + know I shall bloom again as a district visitor.” + </p> + <p> + Yet under this surface sparkle and nervous exaltation Sadie never lost + consciousness of the gravity of the situation. If her sense of humor + enabled her to see one side of its grim irony; if she experienced a wicked + satisfaction in accepting the admiration and easy confidence of the + high-born guests, knowing that her cousin had assisted in preparing the + meal they were eating, she had never lost sight of the practical effect of + the discovery she had made. And she had come to a final resolution. She + should leave the Priory at once, and abandon all idea of a matrimonial + alliance with its heir! Inconsistent as this might seem to her selfish, + worldly nature, it was nevertheless in keeping with a certain pride and + independence that was in her blood. She did not love Lord Algernon, + neither did she love her grandfather; she was equally willing to sacrifice + either or both; she knew that neither Lord Algernon nor his father would + make her connections an objection, however they might wish to keep the + fact a secret, or otherwise dispose of them by pensions or emigration, but + she could not bear to KNOW IT HERSELF! She never could be happy as the + mistress of Scrooby Priory with that knowledge; she did not idealize it as + a principle! Carefully weighing it by her own practical common sense, she + said to herself that “it wouldn't pay.” The highest independence is often + akin to the lowest selfishness; she did not dream that the same pride + which kept her grandfather from the workhouse and support by his + daughters, and had even kept him from communicating with his own son, now + kept her from acknowledging them, even for the gift of a title and domain. + There was only one question before her: should she stay long enough to + receive the proposal of Lord Algernon, and then decline it? Why should she + not snatch that single feminine joy out of the ashes of her burnt-up + illusion? She knew that an opportunity would be offered that afternoon. + The party were to take tea at Broxby Hall, and Lord Algernon was to drive + her there in his dogcart. Miss Desborough had gone up to her bedroom to + put on a warmer cloak, and had rung twice or thrice impatiently for her + maid. + </p> + <p> + When the girl made her appearance, apologetic, voluble, and excited, Miss + Desborough scarcely listened to her excuses, until a single word suddenly + arrested her attention. It was “old Debs.” + </p> + <p> + “What ARE you talking about?” said Sadie, pausing in the adjustment of her + hat on her brown hair. + </p> + <p> + “Old Debs, miss,—that's what they call him; an old park-keeper, just + found dead in a pool of water in the fields; the grandfather of one of the + servants here; and there's such an excitement in the servants' hall. The + gentlemen all knew it, too, for I heard Lord Algernon say that he was + looking very queer lately, and might have had a fit; and Lord Beverdale + has sent word to the coroner. And only think, the people here are such + fools that they daren't touch or move the poor man, and him lyin' there in + the rain all the time, until the coroner comes!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Desborough had been steadily regarding herself in the glass to see if + she had turned pale. She had. She set her teeth together until the color + partly returned. But she kept her face away from the maid. “That'll do,” + she said quietly. “You can tell me all later. I have some important news + myself, and I may not go out after all. I want you to take a note for me.” + She went to her table, wrote a line in pencil, folded it, scribbled an + address upon it, handed it to the girl, and gently pushed her from the + room. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The consul was lingering on the terrace beside one of the carriages; at a + little distance a groom was holding the nervous thoroughbred of Lord + Algernon's dog-cart. Suddenly he felt a touch on his shoulder, and Miss + Desborough's maid put a note in his hand. It contained only a line:— + </p> + <p> + Please come and see me in the library, but without making any fuss about + it—at once. S. D. + </p> + <p> + The consul glanced around him; no one had apparently noticed the incident. + He slipped back into the house and made his way to the library. It was a + long gallery; at the further end Miss Desborough stood cloaked, veiled, + and coquettishly hatted. She was looking very beautiful and animated. “I + want you to please do me a great favor,” she said, with an adorable smile, + “as your own countrywoman, you know—for the sake of Fourth of July + and Pumpkin Pie and the Old Flag! I don't want to go to this circus + to-day. I am going to leave here to-night! I am! Honest Injin! I want YOU + to manage it. I want you to say that as consul you've received important + news for me: the death of some relative, if you like; or better, something + AFFECTING MY PROPERTY, you know,” with a little satirical laugh. “I guess + that would fetch 'em! So go at once.” + </p> + <p> + “But really, Miss Desborough, do let us talk this over before you decide!” + implored the bewildered consul. “Think what a disappointment to your host + and these ladies. Lord Algernon expects to drive you there; he is already + waiting! The party was got up for you!” Miss Desborough made a slight + grimace. “I mean you ought to sacrifice something—but I trust there + is really nothing serious—to them!” + </p> + <p> + “If YOU do not speak to them, I will!” said Miss Desborough firmly. “If + you say what I tell you, it will come the more plausibly from you. Come! + My mind is made up. One of us must break the news! Shall it be you or I?” + She drew her cloak over her shoulders and made a step forwards. + </p> + <p> + The consul saw she was determined. “Then wait here till I return, but keep + yourself out of sight,” he said, and hurried away. Between the library and + the terrace he conceived a plan. His perplexity lent him a seriousness + which befitted the gravity of the news he had to disclose. “I am sorry to + have to tell you,” he said, taking Lord Beverdale aside, “that I was the + unlucky bearer of some sad news to Miss Desborough this morning, through + my consular letters—some matter concerning the death of a relation + of hers, and some wearisome question of property. I thought that it was of + little importance, and that she would not take it seriously, but I find I + was mistaken. It may even oblige her to catch the London train to-night. I + promised to make her excuses to you for the present, and I'm afraid I must + add my own to them, as she wishes me to stay and advise her in this + matter, which requires some prompt action.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Desborough was right: the magic word “property” changed the slight + annoyance on the earl's face to a sympathetic concern. “Dear me! I trust + it is nothing really serious,” he said. “Of course, you will advise her, + and, by the way, if my solicitor, Withers, who'll be here to-morrow, can + do anything, you know, call him in. I hope she'll be able to see me later. + It could not be a NEAR relation who died, I fancy; she has no brothers or + sisters, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “A cousin, I think; an old friend,” said the consul hastily. He heard Lord + Beverdale say a few words to his companions, saw with a tinge of remorse a + cloud settle upon Lord Algernon's fresh face, as he appealed in a whisper + to old Lady Mesthyn, who leaned forward from the carriage, and said, “If + the dear child thought I could be of any service, I should only be too + glad to stay with her.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew she would appreciate Lady Mesthyn's sympathy,” said the ingenious + consul quickly, “but I really think the question is more a business one—and”— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes,” said the old lady, shaking her head, “it's dreadful, of course, + but we must all think of THAT!” + </p> + <p> + As the carriage drove away, the consul hurried back a little viciously to + his fair countrywoman. “There!” he said, “I have done it! If I have + managed to convey either the idea that you are a penniless orphan, or that + I have official information that you are suspected of a dynamite + conspiracy, don't blame me! And now,” he said, “as I have excused myself + on the ground that I must devote myself to this dreadful business of + yours, perhaps you'll tell me WHAT it really is.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word more,” said Miss Desborough; “except,” she added,—checking + her smile with a weary gesture,—“except that I want to leave this + dreadful place at once! There! don't ask me any more!” + </p> + <p> + There could be no doubt of the girl's sincerity. Nor was it the + extravagant caprice of a petted idol. What had happened? He might have + believed in a lovers' quarrel, but he knew that she and Lord Algernon + could have had no private interview that evening. He must perforce accept + her silence, yet he could not help saying:— + </p> + <p> + “You seemed to like the place so much last night. I say, you haven't seen + the Priory ghost, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “The Priory ghost,” she said quickly. “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “The old monk who passes through the cloisters with the sacred oil, the + bell, and the smell of incense whenever any one is to die here. By Jove! + it would have been a good story to tell instead of this cock-and-bull one + about your property. And there WAS a death here to-day. You'd have added + the sibyl's gifts to your other charms.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about that old man,” she said, looking past him out of the + window. “I was at his cottage this morning. But, no! first let us go out. + You can take me for a walk, if you like. You see I am all ready, and I'm + just stifling here.” + </p> + <p> + They descended to the terrace together. “Where would you like to go?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “To the village. I may want to telegraph, you know.” + </p> + <p> + They turned into the avenue, but Miss Desborough stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Is there not a shorter cut across the fields,” she asked, “over there?” + </p> + <p> + “There is,” said the consul. + </p> + <p> + They both turned into the footpath which led to the farm and stile. After + a pause she said, “Did you ever talk with that poor old man?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't know if he really was crazy, as they think.” + </p> + <p> + “No. But they may have thought an old man's forgetfulness of present + things and his habit of communing with the past was insanity. For all that + he was a plucky, independent old fellow, with a grim purpose that was + certainly rational.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose in his independence he would not have taken favors from these + people, or anybody?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think not.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think it was just horrid—their leaving him alone in the + rain, when he might have been only in a fit?” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor says he died suddenly of heart disease,” said the consul. “It + might have happened at any moment and without warning.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that was the coroner's verdict, then,” said Miss Desborough quickly. + </p> + <p> + “The coroner did not think it necessary to have any inquest after Lord + Beverdale's statement. It wouldn't have been very joyous for the Priory + party. And I dare say he thought it might not be very cheerful for YOU.” + </p> + <p> + “How very kind!” said the young girl, with a quick laugh. “But do you know + that it's about the only thing human, original, and striking that has + happened in this place since I've been here! And so unexpected, + considering how comfortably everything is ordered here beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet you seemed to like that kind of thing very well, last evening,” said + the consul mischievously. + </p> + <p> + “That was last night,” retorted Miss Desborough; “and you know the line, + 'Colors seen by candlelight do not look the same by day.' But I'm going to + be very consistent to-day, for I intend to go over to that poor man's + cottage again, and see if I can be of any service. Will you go with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the consul, mystified by his companion's extraordinary + conduct, yet apparent coolness of purpose, and hoping for some further + explanation. Was she only an inexperienced flirt who had found herself on + the point of a serious entanglement she had not contemplated? Yet even + then he knew she was clever enough to extricate herself in some other way + than this abrupt and brutal tearing through the meshes. Or was it possible + that she really had any intelligence affecting her property? He reflected + that he knew very little of the Desboroughs, but on the other hand he knew + that Beverdale knew them much better, and was a prudent man. He had no + right to demand her confidence as a reward for his secrecy; he must wait + her pleasure. Perhaps she would still explain; women seldom could resist + the triumph of telling the secret that puzzled others. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the village she halted before the low roof of Debs's + cottage. “I had better go in first,” she said; “you can come in later, and + in the meantime you might go to the station for me and find out the exact + time that the express train leaves for the north.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the astonished consul, “I thought you were going to London?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Miss Desborough quietly, “I am going to join some friends at + Harrogate.” + </p> + <p> + “But that train goes much earlier than the train south, and—and I'm + afraid Lord Beverdale will not have returned so soon.” + </p> + <p> + “How sad!” said Miss Desborough, with a faint smile, “but we must bear up + under it, and—I'll write him. I will be here until you return.” + </p> + <p> + She turned away and entered the cottage. The granddaughter she had already + seen and her sister, the servant at the Priory, were both chatting + comfortably, but ceased as she entered, and both rose with awkward + respect. There was little to suggest that the body of their grandfather, + already in a rough oak shell, was lying upon trestles beside them. + </p> + <p> + “You have carried out my orders, I see,” said Miss Desborough, laying down + her parasol. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, miss; but it was main haard gettin' et dooan so soon, and et cooast”— + </p> + <p> + “Never mind the cost. I've given you money enough, I think, and if I + haven't, I guess I can give you more.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, miss! Abbut the pa'son 'ead gi' un a funeral for nowt.” + </p> + <p> + “But I understood you to say,” said Miss Desborough, with an impatient + flash of eye, “that your grandfather wished to be buried with his kindred + in the north?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, miss,” said the girl apologetically, “an naw 'ees savit th' munny. + Abbut e'd bean tickled 'ad 'ee knowed it! Dear! dear! 'ee niver thowt et + 'ud be gi'en by stranger an' not 'es ownt fammaly.” + </p> + <p> + “For all that, you needn't tell anybody it was given by ME,” said Miss + Desborough. “And you'll be sure to be ready to take the train this + afternoon—without delay.” There was a certain peremptoriness in her + voice very unlike Miss Amelyn's, yet apparently much more effective with + the granddaughter. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, miss. Then, if tha'll excoose mea, I'll go streight to 'oory oop + sexten.” + </p> + <p> + She bustled away. “Now,” said Miss Desborough, turning to the other girl, + “I shall take the same train, and will probably see you on the platform at + York to give my final directions. That's all. Go and see if the gentleman + who came with me has returned from the station.” + </p> + <p> + The girl obeyed. Left entirely alone, Miss Desborough glanced around the + room, and then went quietly up to the unlidded coffin. The repose of death + had softened the hard lines of the old man's mouth and brow into a + resemblance she now more than ever understood. She had stood thus only a + few years before, looking at the same face in a gorgeously inlaid mahogany + casket, smothered amidst costly flowers, and surrounded by friends attired + in all the luxurious trappings of woe; yet it was the same face that was + now rigidly upturned to the bare thatch and rafters of that crumbling + cottage, herself its only companion. She lifted her delicate veil with + both hands, and, stooping down, kissed the hard, cold forehead, without a + tremor. Then she dropped her veil again over her dry eyes, readjusted it + in the little, cheap, black-framed mirror that hung against the wall, and + opened the door as the granddaughter returned. The gentleman was just + coming from the station. + </p> + <p> + “Remember to look out for me at York,” said Miss Desborough, extending her + gloved hand. “Good-by till then.” The young girl respectfully touched the + ends of Miss Desborough's fingers, dropped a curtsy, and Miss Desborough + rejoined the consul. + </p> + <p> + “You have barely time to return to the Priory and see to your luggage,” + said the consul, “if you must go. But let me hope that you have changed + your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not changed my mind,” said Miss Desborough quietly, “and my + baggage is already packed.” After a pause, she said thoughtfully, “I've + been wondering”— + </p> + <p> + “What?” said the consul eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I've been wondering if people brought up to speak in a certain dialect, + where certain words have their own significance and color, and are part of + their own lives and experience—if, even when they understand another + dialect, they really feel any sympathy with it, or the person who speaks + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Apropos of”—asked the consul. + </p> + <p> + “These people I've just left! I don't think I quite felt with them, and I + guess they didn't feel with me.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the consul laughingly, “you know that we Americans speak with + a decided dialect of our own, and attach the same occult meaning to it. + Yet, upon my word, I think that Lord Beverdale—or shall I say Lord + Algernon?—would not only understand that American word 'guess' as + you mean it, but would perfectly sympathize with you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Desborough's eyes sparkled even through her veil as she glanced at + her companion and said, “I GUESS NOT.” + </p> + <p> + As the “tea” party had not yet returned, it fell to the consul to + accompany Miss Desborough and her maid to the station. But here he was + startled to find a collection of villagers upon the platform, gathered + round two young women in mourning, and an ominous-looking box. He mingled + for a moment with the crowd, and then returned to Miss Desborough's side. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he said, with a concern that was scarcely assumed, “I ought not + to let you go. The omens are most disastrous! You came here to a death; + you are going away with a funeral!” + </p> + <p> + “Then it's high time I took myself off!” said the lady lightly. + </p> + <p> + “Unless, like the ghostly monk, you came here on a mission, and have + fulfilled it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I have. Good-by!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In spite of the bright and characteristic letter which Miss Desborough + left for her host,—a letter which mingled her peculiar shrewd sense + with her humorous extravagance of expression,—the consul spent a + somewhat uneasy evening under the fire of questions that assailed him in + reference to the fair deserter. But he kept loyal faith with her, adhering + even to the letter of her instructions, and only once was goaded into more + active mendacity. The conversation had turned upon “Debs,” and the consul + had remarked on the singularity of the name. A guest from the north + observed, however, that the name was undoubtedly a contraction. “Possibly + it might have been 'Debborough,' or even the same name as our fair + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “But didn't Miss Desborough tell you last night that she had been hunting + up her people, with a family tree, or something like that?” said Lord + Algernon eagerly. “I just caught a word here and there, for you were both + laughing.” + </p> + <p> + The consul smiled blandly. “You may well say so, for it was all the most + delightful piece of pure invention and utter extravagance. It would have + amused her still more if she had thought you were listening and took it + seriously!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course; I see!” said the young fellow, with a laugh and a slight rise + of color. “I knew she was taking some kind of a rise out of YOU, and that + remark reminded me of it.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, within a year, Lord Algernon was happily married to the + daughter of a South African millionaire, whose bridal offerings alone + touched the sum of half a million. It was also said that the mother was + “impossible” and the father “unspeakable,” the relations + “inextinguishable;” but the wedding was an “occasion,” and in the + succeeding year of festivity it is presumed that the names of “Debs” and + “Desborough” were alike forgotten. + </p> + <p> + But they existed still in a little hamlet near the edge of a bleak + northern moor, where they were singularly exalted on a soaring shaft of + pure marble above the submerged and moss-grown tombstones of a simple + country churchyard. So great was the contrast between the modern and + pretentious monument and the graves of the humbler forefathers of the + village, that even the Americans who chanced to visit it were shocked at + what they believed was the ostentatious and vulgar pride of one of their + own countrywomen. For on its pedestal was inscribed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sacred to the Memory + of + JOHN DEBS DESBOROUGH, + Formerly of this parish, + Who departed this life October 20th, 1892, + At Scrooby Priory, + At the age of eighty-two years. + This monument was erected as a loving testimony + by his granddaughter, + Sadie Desborough, of New York, U. S. A. + + “And evening brings us home.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SALOMY JANE'S KISS + </h2> + <p> + Only one shot had been fired. It had gone wide of its mark,—the + ringleader of the Vigilantes,—and had left Red Pete, who had fired + it, covered by their rifles and at their mercy. For his hand had been + cramped by hard riding, and his eye distracted by their sudden onset, and + so the inevitable end had come. He submitted sullenly to his captors; his + companion fugitive and horse-thief gave up the protracted struggle with a + feeling not unlike relief. Even the hot and revengeful victors were + content. They had taken their men alive. At any time during the long chase + they could have brought them down by a rifle shot, but it would have been + unsportsmanlike, and have ended in a free fight, instead of an example. + And, for the matter of that, their doom was already sealed. Their end, by + a rope and a tree, although not sanctified by law, would have at least the + deliberation of justice. It was the tribute paid by the Vigilantes to that + order which they had themselves disregarded in the pursuit and capture. + Yet this strange logic of the frontier sufficed them, and gave a certain + dignity to the climax. + </p> + <p> + “Ef you've got anything to say to your folks, say it NOW, and say it + quick,” said the ringleader. + </p> + <p> + Red Pete glanced around him. He had been run to earth at his own cabin in + the clearing, whence a few relations and friends, mostly women and + children, non-combatants, had outflowed, gazing vacantly at the twenty + Vigilantes who surrounded them. All were accustomed to scenes of violence, + blood-feud, chase, and hardship; it was only the suddenness of the onset + and its quick result that had surprised them. They looked on with dazed + curiosity and some disappointment; there had been no fight to speak of—no + spectacle! A boy, nephew of Red Pete, got upon the rain-barrel to view the + proceedings more comfortably; a tall, handsome, lazy Kentucky girl, a + visiting neighbor, leaned against the doorpost, chewing gum. Only a yellow + hound was actively perplexed. He could not make out if a hunt were just + over or beginning, and ran eagerly backwards and forwards, leaping + alternately upon the captives and the captors. + </p> + <p> + The ringleader repeated his challenge. Red Pete gave a reckless laugh and + looked at his wife. + </p> + <p> + At which Mrs. Red Pete came forward. It seemed that she had much to say, + incoherently, furiously, vindictively, to the ringleader. His soul would + roast in hell for that day's work! He called himself a man, skunkin' in + the open and afraid to show himself except with a crowd of other “Kiyi's” + around a house of women and children. Heaping insult upon insult, + inveighing against his low blood, his ancestors, his dubious origin, she + at last flung out a wild taunt of his invalid wife, the insult of a woman + to a woman, until his white face grew rigid, and only that + Western-American fetich of the sanctity of sex kept his twitching fingers + from the lock of his rifle. Even her husband noticed it, and with a + half-authoritative “Let up on that, old gal,” and a pat of his freed left + hand on her back, took his last parting. The ringleader, still white under + the lash of the woman's tongue, turned abruptly to the second captive. + “And if YOU'VE got anybody to say 'good-by' to, now's your chance.” + </p> + <p> + The man looked up. Nobody stirred or spoke. He was a stranger there, being + a chance confederate picked up by Red Pete, and known to no one. Still + young, but an outlaw from his abandoned boyhood, of which father and + mother were only a forgotten dream, he loved horses and stole them, fully + accepting the frontier penalty of life for the interference with that + animal on which a man's life so often depended. But he understood the good + points of a horse, as was shown by the ones he bestrode—until a few + days before the property of Judge Boompointer. This was his sole + distinction. + </p> + <p> + The unexpected question stirred him for a moment out of the attitude of + reckless indifference, for attitude it was, and a part of his profession. + But it may have touched him that at that moment he was less than his + companion and his virago wife. However, he only shook his head. As he did + so his eye casually fell on the handsome girl by the doorpost, who was + looking at him. The ringleader, too, may have been touched by his complete + loneliness, for HE hesitated. At the same moment he saw that the girl was + looking at his friendless captive. + </p> + <p> + A grotesque idea struck him. + </p> + <p> + “Salomy Jane, ye might do worse than come yere and say 'good-by' to a + dying man, and him a stranger,” he said. + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be a subtle stroke of poetry and irony in this that + equally struck the apathetic crowd. It was well known that Salomy Jane + Clay thought no small potatoes of herself, and always held off the local + swain with a lazy nymph-like scorn. Nevertheless, she slowly disengaged + herself from the doorpost, and, to everybody's astonishment, lounged with + languid grace and outstretched hand towards the prisoner. The color came + into the gray reckless mask which the doomed man wore as her right hand + grasped his left, just loosed by his captors. Then she paused; her shy, + fawn-like eyes grew bold, and fixed themselves upon him. She took the + chewing-gum from her mouth, wiped her red lips with the back of her hand, + by a sudden lithe spring placed her foot on his stirrup, and, bounding to + the saddle, threw her arms about his neck and pressed a kiss upon his + lips. + </p> + <p> + They remained thus for a hushed moment—the man on the threshold of + death, the young woman in the fullness of youth and beauty—linked + together. Then the crowd laughed; in the audacious effrontery of the + girl's act the ultimate fate of the two men was forgotten. She slipped + languidly to the ground; SHE was the focus of all eyes,—she only! + The ringleader saw it and his opportunity. He shouted: “Time's up—Forward!” + urged his horse beside his captives, and the next moment the whole + cavalcade was sweeping over the clearing into the darkening woods. + </p> + <p> + Their destination was Sawyer's Crossing, the headquarters of the + committee, where the council was still sitting, and where both culprits + were to expiate the offense of which that council had already found them + guilty. They rode in great and breathless haste,—a haste in which, + strangely enough, even the captives seemed to join. That haste possibly + prevented them from noticing the singular change which had taken place in + the second captive since the episode of the kiss. His high color remained, + as if it had burned through his mask of indifference; his eyes were quick, + alert, and keen, his mouth half open as if the girl's kiss still lingered + there. And that haste had made them careless, for the horse of the man who + led him slipped in a gopher-hole, rolled over, unseated his rider, and + even dragged the bound and helpless second captive from Judge + Boompointer's favorite mare. In an instant they were all on their feet + again, but in that supreme moment the second captive felt the cords which + bound his arms had slipped to his wrists. By keeping his elbows to his + sides, and obliging the others to help him mount, it escaped their notice. + By riding close to his captors, and keeping in the crush of the throng, he + further concealed the accident, slowly working his hands downwards out of + his bonds. + </p> + <p> + Their way lay through a sylvan wilderness, mid-leg deep in ferns, whose + tall fronds brushed their horses' sides in their furious gallop and + concealed the flapping of the captive's loosened cords. The peaceful + vista, more suggestive of the offerings of nymph and shepherd than of + human sacrifice, was in a strange contrast to this whirlwind rush of + stern, armed men. The westering sun pierced the subdued light and the + tremor of leaves with yellow lances; birds started into song on blue and + dove-like wings, and on either side of the trail of this vengeful storm + could be heard the murmur of hidden and tranquil waters. In a few moments + they would be on the open ridge, whence sloped the common turnpike to + “Sawyer's,” a mile away. It was the custom of returning cavalcades to take + this hill at headlong speed, with shouts and cries that heralded their + coming. They withheld the latter that day, as inconsistent with their + dignity; but, emerging from the wood, swept silently like an avalanche + down the slope. They were well under way, looking only to their horses, + when the second captive slipped his right arm from the bonds and succeeded + in grasping the reins that lay trailing on the horse's neck. A sudden + vaquero jerk, which the well-trained animal understood, threw him on his + haunches with his forelegs firmly planted on the slope. The rest of the + cavalcade swept on; the man who was leading the captive's horse by the + riata, thinking only of another accident, dropped the line to save himself + from being dragged backwards from his horse. The captive wheeled, and the + next moment was galloping furiously up the slope. + </p> + <p> + It was the work of a moment; a trained horse and an experienced hand. The + cavalcade had covered nearly fifty yards before they could pull up; the + freed captive had covered half that distance uphill. The road was so + narrow that only two shots could be fired, and these broke dust two yards + ahead of the fugitive. They had not dared to fire low; the horse was the + more valuable animal. The fugitive knew this in his extremity also, and + would have gladly taken a shot in his own leg to spare that of his horse. + Five men were detached to recapture or kill him. The latter seemed + inevitable. But he had calculated his chances; before they could reload he + had reached the woods again; winding in and out between the pillared tree + trunks, he offered no mark. They knew his horse was superior to their own; + at the end of two hours they returned, for he had disappeared without + track or trail. The end was briefly told in the “Sierra Record:”— + </p> + <p> + “Red Pete, the notorious horse-thief, who had so long eluded justice, was + captured and hung by the Sawyer's Crossing Vigilantes last week; his + confederate, unfortunately, escaped on a valuable horse belonging to Judge + Boompointer. The judge had refused one thousand dollars for the horse only + a week before. As the thief, who is still at large, would find it + difficult to dispose of so valuable an animal without detection, the + chances are against either of them turning up again.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Salomy Jane watched the cavalcade until it had disappeared. Then she + became aware that her brief popularity had passed. Mrs. Red Pete, in + stormy hysterics, had included her in a sweeping denunciation of the whole + universe, possibly for simulating an emotion in which she herself was + deficient. The other women hated her for her momentary exaltation above + them; only the children still admired her as one who had undoubtedly + “canoodled” with a man “a-going to be hung”—a daring flight beyond + their wildest ambition. Salomy Jane accepted the change with charming + unconcern. She put on her yellow nankeen sunbonnet,—a hideous affair + that would have ruined any other woman, but which only enhanced the + piquancy of her fresh brunette skin,—tied the strings, letting the + blue-black braids escape below its frilled curtain behind, jumped on her + mustang with a casual display of agile ankles in shapely white stockings, + whistled to the hound, and waving her hand with a “So long, sonny!” to the + lately bereft but admiring nephew, flapped and fluttered away in her short + brown holland gown. + </p> + <p> + Her father's house was four miles distant. Contrasted with the cabin she + had just quitted, it was a superior dwelling, with a long “lean-to” at the + rear, which brought the eaves almost to the ground and made it look like a + low triangle. It had a long barn and cattle sheds, for Madison Clay was a + “great” stock-raiser and the owner of a “quarter section.” It had a + sitting-room and a parlor organ, whose transportation thither had been a + marvel of “packing.” These things were supposed to give Salomy Jane an + undue importance, but the girl's reserve and inaccessibility to local + advances were rather the result of a cool, lazy temperament and the + preoccupation of a large, protecting admiration for her father, for some + years a widower. For Mr. Madison Clay's life had been threatened in one or + two feuds,—it was said, not without cause,—and it is possible + that the pathetic spectacle of her father doing his visiting with a + shotgun may have touched her closely and somewhat prejudiced her against + the neighboring masculinity. The thought that cattle, horses, and “quarter + section” would one day be hers did not disturb her calm. As for Mr. Clay, + he accepted her as housewifely, though somewhat “interfering,” and, being + one of “his own womankind,” therefore not without some degree of merit. + </p> + <p> + “Wot's this yer I'm hearin' of your doin's over at Red Pete's? + Honeyfoglin' with a horse-thief, eh?” said Mr. Clay two days later at + breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you heard about the straight thing, then,” said Salomy Jane + unconcernedly, without looking round. + </p> + <p> + “What do you kalkilate Rube will say to it? What are you goin' to tell + HIM?” said Mr. Clay sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + “Rube,” or Reuben Waters, was a swain supposed to be favored particularly + by Mr. Clay. Salomy Jane looked up. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell him that when HE'S on his way to be hung, I'll kiss him,—not + till then,” said the young lady brightly. + </p> + <p> + This delightful witticism suited the paternal humor, and Mr. Clay smiled; + but, nevertheless, he frowned a moment afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “But this yer hoss-thief got away arter all, and that's a hoss of a + different color,” he said grimly. + </p> + <p> + Salomy Jane put down her knife and fork. This was certainly a new and + different phase of the situation. She had never thought of it before, and, + strangely enough, for the first time she became interested in the man. + “Got away?” she repeated. “Did they let him off?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” said her father briefly. “Slipped his cords, and going down + the grade pulled up short, just like a vaquero agin a lassoed bull, almost + draggin' the man leadin' him off his hoss, and then skyuted up the grade. + For that matter, on that hoss o' Judge Boompointer's he mout have dragged + the whole posse of 'em down on their knees ef he liked! Sarved 'em right, + too. Instead of stringin' him up afore the door, or shootin' him on sight, + they must allow to take him down afore the hull committee 'for an + example.' 'Example' be blowed! Ther' 's example enough when some stranger + comes unbeknownst slap onter a man hanged to a tree and plugged full of + holes. THAT'S an example, and HE knows what it means. Wot more do ye want? + But then those Vigilantes is allus clingin' and hangin' onter some mere + scrap o' the law they're pretendin' to despise. It makes me sick! Why, + when Jake Myers shot your ole Aunt Viney's second husband, and I laid in + wait for Jake afterwards in the Butternut Hollow, did I tie him to his + hoss and fetch him down to your Aunt Viney's cabin 'for an example' before + I plugged him? No!” in deep disgust. “No! Why, I just meandered through + the wood, careless-like, till he comes out, and I just rode up to him, and + I said”— + </p> + <p> + But Salomy Jane had heard her father's story before. Even one's dearest + relatives are apt to become tiresome in narration. “I know, dad,” she + interrupted; “but this yer man,—this hoss-thief,—did HE get + clean away without gettin' hurt at all?” + </p> + <p> + “He did, and unless he's fool enough to sell the hoss he kin keep away, + too. So ye see, ye can't ladle out purp stuff about a 'dyin' stranger' to + Rube. He won't swaller it.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same, dad,” returned the girl cheerfully, “I reckon to say it, + and say MORE; I'll tell him that ef HE manages to get away too, I'll marry + him—there! But ye don't ketch Rube takin' any such risks in gettin' + ketched, or in gettin' away arter!” + </p> + <p> + Madison Clay smiled grimly, pushed back his chair, rose, dropped a + perfunctory kiss on his daughter's hair, and, taking his shotgun from the + corner, departed on a peaceful Samaritan mission to a cow who had dropped + a calf in the far pasture. Inclined as he was to Reuben's wooing from his + eligibility as to property, he was conscious that he was sadly deficient + in certain qualities inherent in the Clay family. It certainly would be a + kind of mesalliance. + </p> + <p> + Left to herself, Salomy Jane stared a long while at the coffee-pot, and + then called the two squaws who assisted her in her household duties, to + clear away the things while she went up to her own room to make her bed. + Here she was confronted with a possible prospect of that proverbial bed + she might be making in her willfulness, and on which she must lie, in the + photograph of a somewhat serious young man of refined features—Reuben + Waters—stuck in her window-frame. Salomy Jane smiled over her last + witticism regarding him and enjoyed, it, like your true humorist, and + then, catching sight of her own handsome face in the little mirror, smiled + again. But wasn't it funny about that horse-thief getting off after all? + Good Lordy! Fancy Reuben hearing he was alive and going round with that + kiss of hers set on his lips! She laughed again, a little more + abstractedly. And he had returned it like a man, holding her tight and + almost breathless, and he going to be hung the next minute! Salomy Jane + had been kissed at other times, by force, chance, or stratagem. In a + certain ingenuous forfeit game of the locality known as “I'm a-pinin',” + many had “pined” for a “sweet kiss” from Salomy Jane, which she had + yielded in a sense of honor and fair play. She had never been kissed like + this before—she would never again; and yet the man was alive! And + behold, she could see in the mirror that she was blushing! + </p> + <p> + She should hardly know him again. A young man with very bright eyes, a + flushed and sunburnt cheek, a kind of fixed look in the face, and no + beard; no, none that she could feel. Yet he was not at all like Reuben, + not a bit. She took Reuben's picture from the window, and laid it on her + workbox. And to think she did not even know this young man's name! That + was queer. To be kissed by a man whom she might never know! Of course he + knew hers. She wondered if he remembered it and her. But of course he was + so glad to get off with his life that he never thought of anything else. + Yet she did not give more than four or five minutes to these speculations, + and, like a sensible girl, thought of something else. Once again, however, + in opening the closet, she found the brown holland gown she had worn on + the day before; thought it very unbecoming, and regretted that she had not + worn her best gown on her visit to Red Pete's cottage. On such an occasion + she really might have been more impressive. + </p> + <p> + When her father came home that night she asked him the news. No, they had + NOT captured the second horse-thief, who was still at large. Judge + Boompointer talked of invoking the aid of the despised law. It remained, + then, to see whether the horse-thief was fool enough to try to get rid of + the animal. Red Pete's body had been delivered to his widow. Perhaps it + would only be neighborly for Salomy Jane to ride over to the funeral. But + Salomy Jane did not take to the suggestion kindly, nor yet did she explain + to her father that, as the other man was still living, she did not care to + undergo a second disciplining at the widow's hands. Nevertheless, she + contrasted her situation with that of the widow with a new and singular + satisfaction. It might have been Red Pete who had escaped. But he had not + the grit of the nameless one. She had already settled his heroic quality. + </p> + <p> + “Ye ain't harkenin' to me, Salomy.” + </p> + <p> + Salomy Jane started. + </p> + <p> + “Here I'm askin' ye if ye've see that hound Phil Larrabee sneaking by yer + today?” + </p> + <p> + Salomy Jane had not. But she became interested and self-reproachful, for + she knew that Phil Larrabee was one of her father's enemies. “He wouldn't + dare to go by here unless he knew you were out,” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “That's what gets me,” he said, scratching his grizzled head. “I've been + kind o' thinkin' o' him all day, and one of them Chinamen said he saw him + at Sawyer's Crossing. He was a kind of friend o' Pete's wife. That's why I + thought yer might find out ef he'd been there.” Salomy Jane grew more + self-reproachful at her father's self-interest in her “neighborliness.” + “But that ain't all,” continued Mr. Clay. “Thar was tracks over the far + pasture that warn't mine. I followed them, and they went round and round + the house two or three times, ez ef they mout hev bin prowlin', and then I + lost 'em in the woods again. It's just like that sneakin' hound Larrabee + to hev bin lyin' in wait for me and afraid to meet a man fair and square + in the open.” + </p> + <p> + “You just lie low, dad, for a day or two more, and let me do a little + prowlin',” said the girl, with sympathetic indignation in her dark eyes. + “Ef it's that skunk, I'll spot him soon enough and let you know whar he's + hiding.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll just stay where ye are, Salomy,” said her father decisively. “This + ain't no woman's work—though I ain't sayin' you haven't got more + head for it than some men I know.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, that night, after her father had gone to bed, Salomy Jane + sat by the open window of the sitting-room in an apparent attitude of + languid contemplation, but alert and intent of eye and ear. It was a fine + moonlit night. Two pines near the door, solitary pickets of the serried + ranks of distant forest, cast long shadows like paths to the cottage, and + sighed their spiced breath in the windows. For there was no frivolity of + vine or flower round Salomy Jane's bower. The clearing was too recent, the + life too practical for vanities like these. But the moon added a vague + elusiveness to everything, softened the rigid outlines of the sheds, gave + shadows to the lidless windows, and touched with merciful indirectness the + hideous debris of refuse gravel and the gaunt scars of burnt vegetation + before the door. Even Salomy Jane was affected by it, and exhaled + something between a sigh and a yawn with the breath of the pines. Then she + suddenly sat upright. + </p> + <p> + Her quick ear had caught a faint “click, click,” in the direction of the + wood; her quicker instinct and rustic training enabled her to determine + that it was the ring of a horse's shoe on flinty ground; her knowledge of + the locality told her it came from the spot where the trail passed over an + outcrop of flint scarcely a quarter of a mile from where she sat, and + within the clearing. It was no errant “stock,” for the foot was shod with + iron; it was a mounted trespasser by night, and boded no good to a man + like Clay. + </p> + <p> + She rose, threw her shawl over her head, more for disguise than shelter, + and passed out of the door. A sudden impulse made her seize her father's + shotgun from the corner where it stood,—not that she feared any + danger to herself, but that it was an excuse. She made directly for the + wood, keeping in the shadow of the pines as long as she could. At the + fringe she halted; whoever was there must pass her before reaching the + house. + </p> + <p> + Then there seemed to be a suspense of all nature. Everything was deadly + still—even the moonbeams appeared no longer tremulous; soon there + was a rustle as of some stealthy animal among the ferns, and then a + dismounted man stepped into the moonlight. It was the horse-thief—the + man she had kissed! + </p> + <p> + For a wild moment a strange fancy seized her usually sane intellect and + stirred her temperate blood. The news they had told her was NOT true; he + had been hung, and this was his ghost! He looked as white and spirit-like + in the moonlight, dressed in the same clothes, as when she saw him last. + He had evidently seen her approaching, and moved quickly to meet her. But + in his haste he stumbled slightly; she reflected suddenly that ghosts did + not stumble, and a feeling of relief came over her. And it was no assassin + of her father that had been prowling around—only this unhappy + fugitive. A momentary color came into her cheek; her coolness and + hardihood returned; it was with a tinge of sauciness in her voice that she + said:— + </p> + <p> + “I reckoned you were a ghost.” + </p> + <p> + “I mout have been,” he said, looking at her fixedly; “but I reckon I'd + have come back here all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a little riskier comin' back alive,” she said, with a levity that + died on her lips, for a singular nervousness, half fear and half + expectation, was beginning to take the place of her relief of a moment + ago. “Then it was YOU who was prowlin' round and makin' tracks in the far + pasture?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I came straight here when I got away.” + </p> + <p> + She felt his eyes were burning her, but did not dare to raise her own. + “Why,” she began, hesitated, and ended vaguely. “HOW did you get here?” + </p> + <p> + “You helped me!” + </p> + <p> + “I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That kiss you gave me put life into me—gave me strength to get + away. I swore to myself I'd come back and thank you, alive or dead.” + </p> + <p> + Every word he said she could have anticipated, so plain the situation + seemed to her now. And every word he said she knew was the truth. Yet her + cool common sense struggled against it. + </p> + <p> + “What's the use of your escaping, ef you're comin' back here to be ketched + again?” she said pertly. + </p> + <p> + He drew a little nearer to her, but seemed to her the more awkward as she + resumed her self-possession. His voice, too, was broken, as if by + exhaustion, as he said, catching his breath at intervals:— + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you. You did more for me than you think. You made another man + o' me. I never had a man, woman, or child do to me what you did. I never + had a friend—only a pal like Red Pete, who picked me up 'on shares.' + I want to quit this yer—what I'm doin'. I want to begin by doin' the + square thing to you”—He stopped, breathed hard, and then said + brokenly, “My hoss is over thar, staked out. I want to give him to you. + Judge Boompointer will give you a thousand dollars for him. I ain't lyin'; + it's God's truth! I saw it on the handbill agin a tree. Take him, and I'll + get away afoot. Take him. It's the only thing I can do for you, and I know + it don't half pay for what you did. Take it; your father can get a reward + for you, if you can't.” + </p> + <p> + Such were the ethics of this strange locality that neither the man who + made the offer nor the girl to whom it was made was struck by anything + that seemed illogical or indelicate, or at all inconsistent with justice + or the horse-thief's real conversion. Salomy Jane nevertheless dissented, + from another and weaker reason. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want your hoss, though I reckon dad might; but you're just + starvin'. I'll get suthin'.” She turned towards the house. + </p> + <p> + “Say you'll take the hoss first,” he said, grasping her hand. At the touch + she felt herself coloring and struggled, expecting perhaps another kiss. + But he dropped her hand. She turned again with a saucy gesture, said, + “Hol' on; I'll come right back,” and slipped away, the mere shadow of a + coy and flying nymph in the moonlight, until she reached the house. + </p> + <p> + Here she not only procured food and whiskey, but added a long dust-coat + and hat of her father's to her burden. They would serve as a disguise for + him and hide that heroic figure, which she thought everybody must now know + as she did. Then she rejoined him breathlessly. But he put the food and + whiskey aside. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” he said; “I've turned the hoss into your corral. You'll find him + there in the morning, and no one will know but that he got lost and joined + the other hosses.” + </p> + <p> + Then she burst out. “But you—YOU—what will become of you? + You'll be ketched!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll manage to get away,” he said in a low voice, “ef—ef”— + </p> + <p> + “Ef what?” she said tremblingly. “Ef you'll put the heart in me again,—as + you did!” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + She tried to laugh—to move away. She could do neither. Suddenly he + caught her in his arms, with a long kiss, which she returned again and + again. Then they stood embraced as they had embraced two days before, but + no longer the same. For the cool, lazy Salomy Jane had been transformed + into another woman—a passionate, clinging savage. Perhaps something + of her father's blood had surged within her at that supreme moment. The + man stood erect and determined. + </p> + <p> + “Wot's your name?” she whispered quickly. It was a woman's quickest way of + defining her feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Dart.” + </p> + <p> + “Yer first name?” + </p> + <p> + “Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go now, Jack. Lie low in the woods till to-morrow sunup. I'll come + again.” + </p> + <p> + He released her. Yet she lingered a moment. “Put on those things,” she + said, with a sudden happy flash of eyes and teeth, “and lie close till I + come.” And then she sped away home. + </p> + <p> + But midway up the distance she felt her feet going slower, and something + at her heartstrings seemed to be pulling her back. She stopped, turned, + and glanced to where he had been standing. Had she seen him then, she + might have returned. But he had disappeared. She gave her first sigh, and + then ran quickly again. It must be nearly ten o'clock! It was not very + long to morning! + </p> + <p> + She was within a few steps of her own door, when the sleeping woods and + silent air appeared to suddenly awake with a sharp “crack!” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, paralyzed. Another “crack!” followed, that echoed over to the + far corral. She recalled herself instantly and dashed off wildly to the + woods again. + </p> + <p> + As she ran she thought of one thing only. He had been “dogged” by one of + his old pursuers and attacked. But there were two shots, and he was + unarmed. Suddenly she remembered that she had left her father's gun + standing against the tree where they were talking. Thank God! she may + again have saved him. She ran to the tree; the gun was gone. She ran + hither and thither, dreading at every step to fall upon his lifeless body. + A new thought struck her; she ran to the corral. The horse was not there! + He must have been able to regain it, and escaped, AFTER the shots had been + fired. She drew a long breath of relief, but it was caught up in an + apprehension of alarm. Her father, awakened from his sleep by the shots, + was hurriedly approaching her. + </p> + <p> + “What's up now, Salomy Jane?” he demanded excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin',” said the girl with an effort. “Nothin', at least, that I can + find.” She was usually truthful because fearless, and a lie stuck in her + throat; but she was no longer fearless, thinking of HIM. “I wasn't abed; + so I ran out as soon as I heard the shots fired,” she answered in return + to his curious gaze. + </p> + <p> + “And you've hid my gun somewhere where it can't be found,” he said + reproachfully. “Ef it was that sneak Larrabee, and he fired them shots to + lure me out, he might have potted me, without a show, a dozen times in the + last five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + She had not thought since of her father's enemy! It might indeed have been + he who had attacked Jack. But she made a quick point of the suggestion. + “Run in, dad, run in and find the gun; you've got no show out here without + it.” She seized him by the shoulders from behind, shielding him from the + woods, and hurried him, half expostulating, half struggling, to the house. + </p> + <p> + But there no gun was to be found. It was strange; it must have been + mislaid in some corner! Was he sure he had not left it in the barn? But no + matter now. The danger was over; the Larrabee trick had failed; he must go + to bed now, and in the morning they would make a search together. At the + same time she had inwardly resolved to rise before him and make another + search of the wood, and perhaps—fearful joy as she recalled her + promise!—find Jack alive and well, awaiting her! + </p> + <p> + Salomy Jane slept little that night, nor did her father. But towards + morning he fell into a tired man's slumber until the sun was well up the + horizon. Far different was it with his daughter: she lay with her face to + the window, her head half lifted to catch every sound, from the creaking + of the sun-warped shingles above her head to the far-off moan of the + rising wind in the pine trees. Sometimes she fell into a breathless, + half-ecstatic trance, living over every moment of the stolen interview; + feeling the fugitive's arm still around her, his kisses on her lips; + hearing his whispered voice in her ears—the birth of her new life! + This was followed again by a period of agonizing dread—that he might + even then be lying, his life ebbing away, in the woods, with her name on + his lips, and she resting here inactive, until she half started from her + bed to go to his succor. And this went on until a pale opal glow came into + the sky, followed by a still paler pink on the summit of the white + Sierras, when she rose and hurriedly began to dress. Still so sanguine was + her hope of meeting him, that she lingered yet a moment to select the + brown holland skirt and yellow sunbonnet she had worn when she first saw + him. And she had only seen him twice! Only TWICE! It would be cruel, too + cruel, not to see him again! + </p> + <p> + She crept softly down the stairs, listening to the long-drawn breathing of + her father in his bedroom, and then, by the light of a guttering candle, + scrawled a note to him, begging him not to trust himself out of the house + until she returned from her search, and leaving the note open on the + table, swiftly ran out into the growing day. + </p> + <p> + Three hours afterwards Mr. Madison Clay awoke to the sound of loud + knocking. At first this forced itself upon his consciousness as his + daughter's regular morning summons, and was responded to by a grunt of + recognition and a nestling closer in the blankets. Then he awoke with a + start and a muttered oath, remembering the events of last night, and his + intention to get up early, and rolled out of bed. Becoming aware by this + time that the knocking was at the outer door, and hearing the shout of a + familiar voice, he hastily pulled on his boots, his jean trousers, and + fastening a single suspender over his shoulder as he clattered downstairs, + stood in the lower room. The door was open, and waiting upon the threshold + was his kinsman, an old ally in many a blood-feud—Breckenridge Clay! + </p> + <p> + “You ARE a cool one, Mad!” said the latter in half-admiring indignation. + </p> + <p> + “What's up?” said the bewildered Madison. + </p> + <p> + “YOU ought to be, and scootin' out o' this,” said Breckenridge grimly. + “It's all very well to 'know nothin';' but here Phil Larrabee's friends + hev just picked him up, drilled through with slugs and deader nor a crow, + and now they're lettin' loose Larrabee's two half-brothers on you. And you + must go like a derned fool and leave these yer things behind you in the + bresh,” he went on querulously, lifting Madison Clay's dust-coat, hat, and + shotgun from his horse, which stood saddled at the door. “Luckily I picked + them up in the woods comin' here. Ye ain't got more than time to get over + the state line and among your folks thar afore they'll be down on you. + Hustle, old man! What are you gawkin' and starin' at?” + </p> + <p> + Madison Clay had stared amazed and bewildered—horror-stricken. The + incidents of the past night for the first time flashed upon him clearly—hopelessly! + The shot; his finding Salomy Jane alone in the woods; her confusion and + anxiety to rid herself of him; the disappearance of the shotgun; and now + this new discovery of the taking of his hat and coat for a disguise! SHE + had killed Phil Larrabee in that disguise, after provoking his first + harmless shot! She, his own child, Salomy Jane, had disgraced herself by a + man's crime; had disgraced him by usurping his right, and taking a mean + advantage, by deceit, of a foe! + </p> + <p> + “Gimme that gun,” he said hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + Breckenridge handed him the gun in wonder and slowly gathering suspicion. + Madison examined nipple and muzzle; one barrel had been discharged. It was + true! The gun dropped from his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, old man,” said Breckenridge, with a darkening face, “there's + bin no foul play here. Thar's bin no hiring of men, no deputy to do this + job. YOU did it fair and square—yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by God!” burst out Madison Clay in a hoarse voice. “Who says I + didn't?” + </p> + <p> + Reassured, yet believing that Madison Clay had nerved himself for the act + by an over-draught of whiskey, which had affected his memory, Breckenridge + said curtly, “Then wake up and 'lite' out, ef ye want me to stand by you.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to the corral and pick me out a hoss,” said Madison slowly, yet not + without a certain dignity of manner. “I've suthin' to say to Salomy Jane + afore I go.” He was holding her scribbled note, which he had just + discovered, in his shaking hand. + </p> + <p> + Struck by his kinsman's manner, and knowing the dependent relations of + father and daughter, Breckenridge nodded and hurried away. Left to + himself, Madison Clay ran his fingers through his hair, and straightened + out the paper on which Salomy Jane had scrawled her note, turned it over, + and wrote on the back:— + </p> + <p> + You might have told me you did it, and not leave your ole father to find + it out how you disgraced yourself and him, too, by a low-down, + underhanded, woman's trick! I've said I done it, and took the blame + myself, and all the sneakiness of it that folks suspect. If I get away + alive—and I don't care much which—you needn't foller. The + house and stock are yours; but you ain't any longer the daughter of your + disgraced father, + </p> + <p> + MADISON CLAY. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely finished the note when, with a clatter of hoofs and a led + horse, Breckenridge reappeared at the door elate and triumphant. “You're + in nigger luck, Mad! I found that stole hoss of Judge Boompointer's had + got away and strayed among your stock in the corral. Take him and you're + safe; he can't be outrun this side of the state line.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't no hoss-thief,” said Madison grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody sez ye are, but you'd be wuss—a fool—ef you didn't + take him. I'm testimony that you found him among your hosses; I'll tell + Judge Boompointer you've got him, and ye kin send him back when you're + safe. The judge will be mighty glad to get him back, and call it quits. So + ef you've writ to Salomy Jane, come.” + </p> + <p> + Madison Clay no longer hesitated. Salomy Jane might return at any moment,—it + would be part of her “fool womanishness,”—and he was in no mood to + see her before a third party. He laid the note on the table, gave a + hurried glance around the house, which he grimly believed he was leaving + forever, and, striding to the door, leaped on the stolen horse, and swept + away with his kinsman. + </p> + <p> + But that note lay for a week undisturbed on the table in full view of the + open door. The house was invaded by leaves, pine cones, birds, and + squirrels during the hot, silent, empty days, and at night by shy, + stealthy creatures, but never again, day or night, by any of the Clay + family. It was known in the district that Clay had flown across the state + line, his daughter was believed to have joined him the next day, and the + house was supposed to be locked up. It lay off the main road, and few + passed that way. The starving cattle in the corral at last broke bounds + and spread over the woods. And one night a stronger blast than usual swept + through the house, carried the note from the table to the floor, where, + whirled into a crack in the flooring, it slowly rotted. + </p> + <p> + But though the sting of her father's reproach was spared her, Salomy Jane + had no need of the letter to know what had happened. For as she entered + the woods in the dim light of that morning she saw the figure of Dart + gliding from the shadow of a pine towards her. The unaffected cry of joy + that rose from her lips died there as she caught sight of his face in the + open light. + </p> + <p> + “You are hurt,” she said, clutching his arm passionately. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “But I wouldn't mind that if”— + </p> + <p> + “You're thinkin' I was afeard to come back last night when I heard the + shootin', but I DID come,” she went on feverishly. “I ran back here when I + heard the two shots, but you were gone. I went to the corral, but your + hoss wasn't there, and I thought you'd got away.” + </p> + <p> + “I DID get away,” said Dart gloomily. “I killed the man, thinkin' he was + huntin' ME, and forgettin' I was disguised. He thought I was your father.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the girl joyfully, “he was after dad, and YOU—you killed + him.” She again caught his hand admiringly. + </p> + <p> + But he did not respond. Possibly there were points of honor which this + horse-thief felt vaguely with her father. “Listen,” he said grimly. + “Others think it was your father killed him. When I did it—for he + fired at me first—I ran to the corral again and took my hoss, + thinkin' I might be follered. I made a clear circuit of the house, and + when I found he was the only one, and no one was follerin', I come back + here and took off my disguise. Then I heard his friends find him in the + wood, and I know they suspected your father. And then another man come + through the woods while I was hidin' and found the clothes and took them + away.” He stopped and stared at her gloomily. + </p> + <p> + But all this was unintelligible to the girl. “Dad would have got the + better of him ef you hadn't,” she said eagerly, “so what's the + difference?” + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” he said gloomily, “I must take his place.” + </p> + <p> + She did not understand, but turned her head to her master. “Then you'll go + back with me and tell him ALL?” she said obediently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She put her hand in his, and they crept out of the wood together. She + foresaw a thousand difficulties, but, chiefest of all, that he did not + love as she did. SHE would not have taken these risks against their + happiness. + </p> + <p> + But alas for ethics and heroism. As they were issuing from the wood they + heard the sound of galloping hoofs, and had barely time to hide themselves + before Madison Clay, on the stolen horse of Judge Boompointer, swept past + them with his kinsman. + </p> + <p> + Salomy Jane turned to her lover. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + And here I might, as a moral romancer, pause, leaving the guilty, + passionate girl eloped with her disreputable lover, destined to lifelong + shame and misery, misunderstood to the last by a criminal, fastidious + parent. But I am confronted by certain facts, on which this romance is + based. A month later a handbill was posted on one of the sentinel pines, + announcing that the property would be sold by auction to the highest + bidder by Mrs. John Dart, daughter of Madison Clay, Esq., and it was sold + accordingly. Still later—by ten years—the chronicler of these + pages visited a certain “stock” or “breeding farm,” in the “Blue Grass + Country,” famous for the popular racers it has produced. He was told that + the owner was the “best judge of horse-flesh in the country.” “Small + wonder,” added his informant, “for they say as a young man out in + California he was a horse-thief, and only saved himself by eloping with + some rich farmer's daughter. But he's a straight-out and respectable man + now, whose word about horses can't be bought; and as for his wife, she's a + beauty! To see her at the 'Springs,' rigged out in the latest fashion, + you'd never think she had ever lived out of New York or wasn't the wife of + one of its millionaires.” + </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> + THE MAN AND THE MOUNTAIN + </h2> + <p> + He was such a large, strong man that, when he first set foot in the little + parallelogram I called my garden, it seemed to shrink to half its size and + become preposterous. But I noticed at the same time that he was holding in + the open palm of his huge hand the roots of a violet, with such infinite + tenderness and delicacy that I would have engaged him as my gardener on + the spot. But this could not be, as he was already the proud proprietor of + a market-garden and nursery on the outskirts of the suburban Californian + town where I lived. He would, however, come for two days in the week, + stock and look after my garden, and impart to my urban intellect such + horticultural hints as were necessary. His name was “Rutli,” which I + presumed to be German, but which my neighbors rendered as “Rootleigh,” + possibly from some vague connection with his occupation. His own knowledge + of English was oral and phonetic. I have a delightful recollection of a + bill of his in which I was charged for “fioletz,” with the vague addition + of “maine cains.” Subsequent explanation proved it to be “many kinds.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, my little garden bourgeoned and blossomed under his large, + protecting hand. I became accustomed to walk around his feet respectfully + when they blocked the tiny paths, and to expect the total eclipse of that + garden-bed on which he worked, by his huge bulk. For the tiniest and most + reluctant rootlet seemed to respond to his caressing paternal touch; it + was a pretty sight to see his huge fingers tying up some slender stalk to + its stick with the smallest thread, and he had a reverent way of laying a + bulb or seed in the ground, and then gently shaping and smoothing a small + mound over it, which made the little inscription on the stick above more + like an affecting epitaph than ever. Much of this gentleness may have been + that apology for his great strength, common with large men; but his face + was distinctly amiable, and his very light blue eyes were at times wistful + and doglike in their kindliness. I was soon to learn, however, that + placability was not entirely his nature. + </p> + <p> + The garden was part of a fifty vara lot of land, on which I was + simultaneously erecting a house. But the garden was finished before the + house was, through certain circumstances very characteristic of that epoch + and civilization. I had purchased the Spanish title, the only LEGAL one, + to the land, which, however, had been in POSSESSION of a “squatter.” But + he had been unable to hold that possession against a “jumper,”—another + kind of squatter who had entered upon it covertly, fenced it in, and + marked it out in building sites. Neither having legal rights, they could + not invoke the law; the last man held possession. There was no doubt that + in due course of litigation and time both these ingenuous gentlemen would + have been dispossessed in favor of the real owner,—myself,—but + that course would be a protracted one. Following the usual custom of the + locality, I paid a certain sum to the jumper to yield up peaceably HIS + possession of the land, and began to build upon it. It might be reasonably + supposed that the question was settled. But it was not. The house was + nearly finished when, one morning, I was called out of my editorial + sanctum by a pallid painter, looking even more white-leaded than usual, + who informed me that my house was in the possession of five armed men! The + entry had been made peaceably during the painters' absence to dinner under + a wayside tree. When they returned, they had found their pots and brushes + in the road, and an intimation from the windows that their reentrance + would be forcibly resisted as a trespass. + </p> + <p> + I honestly believe that Rutli was more concerned than myself over this + dispossession. While he loyally believed that I would get back my + property, he was dreadfully grieved over the inevitable damage that would + be done to the garden during this interval of neglect and carelessness. I + even think he would have made a truce with my enemies, if they would only + have let him look after his beloved plants. As it was, he kept a passing + but melancholy surveillance of them, and was indeed a better spy of the + actions of the intruders than any I could have employed. One day, to my + astonishment, he brought me a moss-rose bud from a bush which had been + trained against a column of the veranda. It appeared that he had called, + from over the fence, the attention of one of the men to the neglected + condition of the plant, and had obtained permission to “come in and tie it + up.” The men, being merely hirelings of the chief squatter, had no + personal feeling, and I was not therefore surprised to hear that they + presently allowed Rutli to come in occasionally and look after his + precious “slips.” If they had any suspicions of his great strength, it was + probably offset by his peaceful avocation and his bland, childlike face. + Meantime, I had begun the usual useless legal proceeding, but had also + engaged a few rascals of my own to be ready to take advantage of any want + of vigilance on the part of my adversaries. I never thought of Rutli in + that connection any more than they had. + </p> + <p> + A few Sundays later I was sitting in the little tea-arbor of Rutli's + nursery, peacefully smoking with him. Presently he took his long + china-bowled pipe from his mouth, and, looking at me blandly over his + yellow mustache, said:— + </p> + <p> + “You vonts sometimes to go in dot house, eh?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “Decidedly.” + </p> + <p> + “Mit a revolver, and keep dot house dose men out?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Vell! I put you in dot house—today!” + </p> + <p> + “Sunday?” + </p> + <p> + “Shoost so! It is a goot day! On der Suntay DREE men vill out go to valk + mit demselluffs, and visky trinken. TWO,” holding up two gigantic fingers, + apparently only a shade or two smaller than his destined victims, “stay + dere. Dose I lift de fence over.” + </p> + <p> + I hastened to inform him that any violence attempted against the parties + WHILE IN POSSESSION, although that possession was illegal, would, by a + fatuity of the law, land him in the county jail. I said I would not hear + of it. + </p> + <p> + “But suppose dere vos no fiolence? Suppose dose men vos villin', eh? How + vos dot for high?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + “So! You shall NOT understand! Dot is better. Go away now and dell your + men to coom dot house arount at halluff past dree. But YOU coom, mit + yourselluff alone, shoost as if you vos spazieren gehen, for a valk, by + dat fence at dree! Ven you shall dot front door vide open see, go in, and + dere you vos! You vill der rest leef to me!” + </p> + <p> + It was in vain that I begged Rutli to divulge his plan, and pointed out + again the danger of his technically breaking the law. But he was firm, + assuring me that I myself would be a witness that no assault would be + made. I looked into his clear, good-humored eyes, and assented. I had a + burning desire to right my wrongs, but I think I also had considerable + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + I passed a miserable quarter of an hour after I had warned my partisans, + and then walked alone slowly down the broad leafy street towards the scene + of contest. I have a very vivid recollection of my conflicting emotions. I + did not believe that I would be killed; I had no distinct intention of + killing any of my adversaries; but I had some considerable concern for my + loyal friend Rutli, whom I foresaw might be in some peril from the + revolver in my unpracticed hand. If I could only avoid shooting HIM, I + would be satisfied. I remember that the bells were ringing for church,—a + church of which my enemy, the chief squatter, was a deacon in good + standing,—and I felt guiltily conscious of my revolver in my + hip-pocket, as two or three church-goers passed me with their hymn-books + in their hands. I walked leisurely, so as not to attract attention, and to + appear at the exact time, a not very easy task in my youthful excitement. + At last I reached the front gate with a beating heart. There was no one on + the high veranda, which occupied three sides of the low one-storied house, + nor in the garden before it. But the front door was open; I softly passed + through the gate, darted up the veranda and into the house. A single + glance around the hall and bare, deserted rooms, still smelling of paint, + showed me it was empty, and with my pistol in one hand and the other on + the lock of the door, I stood inside, ready to bolt it against any one but + Rutli. But where was HE? + </p> + <p> + The sound of laughter and a noise like skylarking came from the rear of + the house and the back yard. Then I suddenly heard Rutli's heavy tread on + the veranda, but it was slow, deliberate, and so exaggerated in its weight + that the whole house seemed to shake with it. Then from the window I + beheld an extraordinary sight! It was Rutli, swaying from side to side, + but steadily carrying with outstretched arms two of the squatter party, + his hands tightly grasping their collars. Yet I believe his touch was as + gentle as with the violets. His face was preternaturally grave; theirs, to + my intense astonishment, while they hung passive from his arms, wore that + fatuous, imbecile smile seen on the faces of those who lend themselves to + tricks of acrobats and strong men in the arena. He slowly traversed the + whole length of one side of the house, walked down the steps to the gate, + and then gravely deposited them OUTSIDE. I heard him say, “Dot vins der + pet, ain't it?” and immediately after the sharp click of the gate-latch. + </p> + <p> + Without understanding a thing that had happened, I rightly conceived this + was the cue for my appearance with my revolver at the front door. As I + opened it I still heard the sound of laughter, which, however, instantly + stopped at a sentence from Rutli, which I could not hear. There was an + oath, the momentary apparition of two furious and indignant faces over the + fence; but these, however, seemed to be instantly extinguished and put + down by the enormous palms of Rutli clapped upon their heads. There was a + pause, and then Rutli turned around and quietly joined me in the doorway. + But the gate was not again opened until the arrival of my partisans, when + the house was clearly in my possession. + </p> + <p> + Safe inside with the door bolted, I turned eagerly to Rutli for an + explanation. It then appeared that during his occasional visits to the + garden he had often been an object of amusement and criticism to the men + on account of his size, which seemed to them ridiculously inconsistent + with his great good humor, gentleness, and delicacy of touch. They had + doubted his strength and challenged his powers. He had responded once or + twice before, lifting weights or even carrying one of his critics at arm's + length for a few steps. But he had reserved his final feat for this day + and this purpose. It was for a bet, which they had eagerly accepted, + secure in their belief in his simplicity, the sincerity of his motives in + coming there, and glad of the opportunity of a little Sunday diversion. In + their security they had not locked the door when they came out, and had + not noticed that HE had opened it. This was his simple story. His only + comment, “I haf von der pet, but I dinks I shall nod gollect der money.” + The two men did not return that afternoon, nor did their comrades. Whether + they wisely conceived that a man who was so powerful in play might be + terrible in earnest; whether they knew that his act, in which they had + been willing performers, had been witnessed by passing citizens, who + supposed it was skylarking; or whether their employer got tired of his + expensive occupation, I never knew. The public believed the latter; Rutli, + myself, and the two men he had evicted alone kept our secret. + </p> + <p> + From that time Rutli and I became firm friends, and, long after I had no + further need of his services in the recaptured house, I often found myself + in the little tea-arbor of his prosperous nursery. He was frugal, sober, + and industrious; small wonder that in that growing town he waxed rich, and + presently opened a restaurant in the main street, connected with his + market-garden, which became famous. His relations to me never changed with + his changed fortunes; he was always the simple market-gardener and florist + who had aided my first housekeeping, and stood by me in an hour of need. + Of all things regarding himself he was singularly reticent; I do not think + he had any confidants or intimates, even among his own countrymen, whom I + believed to be German. But one day he quite accidentally admitted he was a + Swiss. As a youthful admirer of the race I was delighted, and told him so, + with the enthusiastic addition that I could now quite understand his + independence, with his devoted adherence to another's cause. He smiled + sadly, and astonished me by saying that he had not heard from Switzerland + since he left six years ago. He did not want to hear anything; he even + avoided his countrymen lest he should. I was confounded. + </p> + <p> + “But,” I said, “surely you have a longing to return to your country; all + Swiss have! You will go back some day just to breathe the air of your + native mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall go back some days,” said Rutli, “after I have made mooch, mooch + money, but not for dot air.” + </p> + <p> + “What for, then?” + </p> + <p> + “For revenge—to get efen.” + </p> + <p> + Surprised, and for a moment dismayed as I was, I could not help laughing. + “Rutli and revenge!” Impossible! And to make it the more absurd, he was + still smoking gently and regarding me with soft, complacent eyes. So + unchanged was his face and manner that he might have told me he was going + back to be married. + </p> + <p> + “You do not oonderstand,” he said forgivingly. “Some days I shall dell to + you id. Id is a story. You shall make it yourselluff for dose babers dot + you write. It is not bretty, berhaps, ain't it, but it is droo. And de + endt is not yet.” + </p> + <p> + Only that Rutli never joked, except in a ponderous fashion with many + involved sentences, I should have thought he was taking a good-humored + rise out of me. But it was not funny. I am afraid I dismissed it from my + mind as a revelation of something weak and puerile, quite inconsistent + with his practical common sense and strong simplicity, and wished he had + not alluded to it. I never asked him to tell me the story. It was a year + later, and only when he had invited me to come to the opening of a new + hotel, erected by him at a mountain spa of great resort, that he himself + alluded to it. + </p> + <p> + The hotel was a wonderful affair, even for those days, and Rutli's outlay + of capital convinced me that by this time he must have made the “mooch + money” he coveted. Something of this was in my mind when we sat by the window + of his handsomely furnished private office, overlooking the pines of a + Californian canyon. I asked him if the scenery was like Switzerland. + </p> + <p> + “Ach! no!” he replied; “but I vill puild a hotel shoost like dis dare.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that a part of your revenge?” I asked, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so! a bart.” + </p> + <p> + I felt relieved; a revenge so practical did not seem very malicious or + idiotic. After a pause he puffed contemplatively at his pipe, and then + said, “I dell you somedings of dot story now.” + </p> + <p> + He began. I should like to tell it in his own particular English, mixed + with American slang, but it would not convey the simplicity of the + narrator. He was the son of a large family who had lived for centuries in + one of the highest villages in the Bernese Oberland. He attained his size + and strength early, but with a singular distaste to use them in the rough + regular work on the farm, although he was a great climber and mountaineer, + and, what was at first overlooked as mere boyish fancy, had an insatiable + love and curious knowledge of plants and flowers. He knew the haunts of + Edelweiss, Alpine rose, and blue gentian, and had brought home rare and + unknown blossoms from under the icy lips of glaciers. But as he did this + when his time was supposed to be occupied in looking after the cows in the + higher pastures and making cheeses, there was trouble in that + hard-working, practical family. A giant with the tastes and disposition of + a schoolgirl was an anomaly in a Swiss village. Unfortunately again, he + was not studious; his record in the village school had been on a par with + his manual work, and the family had not even the consolation of believing + that they were fostering a genius. In a community where practical industry + was the highest virtue, it was not strange, perhaps, that he was called + “lazy” and “shiftless;” no one knew the long climbs and tireless vigils he + had undergone in remote solitudes in quest of his favorites, or, knowing, + forgave him for it. Abstemious, frugal, and patient as he was, even the + crusts of his father's table were given him grudgingly. He often went + hungry rather than ask the bread he had failed to earn. How his great + frame was nurtured in those days he never knew; perhaps the giant + mountains recognized some kin in him and fed and strengthened him after + their own fashion. Even his gentleness was confounded with cowardice. “Dot + vos de hardtest,” he said simply; “it is not goot to be opligit to half + crush your brudder, ven he would make a laugh of you to your sweetheart.” + The end came sooner than he expected, and, oddly enough, through this + sweetheart. “Gottlieb,” she said to him one day, “the English Fremde who + stayed here last night met me when I was carrying some of those beautiful + flowers you gave me. He asked me where they were to be found, and I told + him only YOU knew. He wants to see you; go to him. It may be luck to you.” + Rutli went. The stranger, an English Alpine climber of scientific tastes, + talked with him for an hour. At the end of that time, to everybody's + astonishment, he engaged this hopeless idler as his personal guide for + three months, at the sum of five francs a day! It was inconceivable, it + was unheard of! The Englander was as mad as Gottlieb, whose intellect had + always been under suspicion! The schoolmaster pursed up his lips, the + pastor shook his head; no good could come of it; the family looked upon it + as another freak of Gottlieb's, but there was one big mouth less to feed + and more room in the kitchen, and they let him go. They parted from him as + ungraciously as they had endured his presence. + </p> + <p> + Then followed two months of sunshine in Rutli's life—association + with his beloved plants, and the intelligent sympathy and direction of a + cultivated man. Even in altitudes so dangerous that they had to take other + and more experienced guides, Rutli was always at his master's side. That + savant's collection of Alpine flora excelled all previous ones; he talked + freely with Rutli of further work in the future, and relaxed his English + reserve so far as to confide to him that the outcome of their collection + and observation might be a book. He gave a flower a Latin name, in which + even the ignorant and delighted Rutli could distinguish some likeness to + his own. But the book was never compiled. In one of their later and more + difficult ascents they and their two additional guides were overtaken by a + sudden storm. Swept from their feet down an ice-bound slope, Rutli alone + of the roped-together party kept a foothold on the treacherous incline. + Here this young Titan, with bleeding fingers clenched in a rock cleft, + sustained the struggles and held up the lives of his companions by that + precious thread for more than an hour. Perhaps he might have saved them, + but in their desperate efforts to regain their footing the rope slipped + upon a jagged edge of outcrop and parted as if cut by a knife. The two + guides passed without an outcry into obscurity and death; Rutli, with a + last despairing exertion, dragged to his own level his unconscious master, + crippled by a broken leg. + </p> + <p> + Your true hero is apt to tell his tale simply. Rutli did not dwell upon + these details, nor need I. Left alone upon a treacherous ice slope in + benumbing cold, with a helpless man, eight hours afterwards he staggered, + half blind, incoherent, and inarticulate, into a “shelter” hut, with the + dead body of his master in his stiffened arms. The shelter-keepers turned + their attention to Rutli, who needed it most. Blind and delirious, with + scarce a chance for life, he was sent the next day to a hospital, where he + lay for three months, helpless, imbecile, and unknown. The dead body of + the Englishman was identified, and sent home; the bodies of the guides + were recovered by their friends; but no one knew aught of Rutli, even his + name. While the event was still fresh in the minds of those who saw him + enter the hut with the body of his master, a paragraph appeared in a Berne + journal recording the heroism of this nameless man. But it could not be + corroborated nor explained by the demented hero, and was presently + forgotten. Six months from the day he had left his home he was discharged + cured. He had not a kreutzer in his pocket; he had never drawn his wages + from his employer; he had preferred to have it in a lump sum that he might + astonish his family on his return. His eyes were still weak, his memory + feeble; only his great physical strength remained through his long + illness. A few sympathizing travelers furnished him the means to reach his + native village, many miles away. He found his family had heard of the loss + of the Englishman and the guides, and had believed he was one of them. + Already he was forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “Ven you vos once peliefed to be det,” said Rutli, after a philosophic + pause and puff, “it vos not goot to ondeceif beoples. You oopset + somedings, soomdimes always. Der hole dot you hef made in der grount, + among your frients and your family, vos covered up alretty. You are loocky + if you vill not fint some vellars shtanding upon id! My frent, ven you vos + DINK det, SHTAY det, BE det, and you vill lif happy!” + </p> + <p> + “But your sweetheart?” I said eagerly. + </p> + <p> + A slight gleam of satire stole into Rutli's light eyes. “My sweetheart, + ven I vos dinks det, is der miller engaged do bromply! It is mooch better + dan to a man dot vos boor and plint and grazy! So! Vell, der next day I + pids dem goot-py, und from der door I say, 'I am det now; but ven I next + comes pack alife, I shall dis village py! der lants, der houses all + togedders. And den for yourselluffs look oudt!'” + </p> + <p> + “Then that's your revenge? That is what you really intend to do?” I said, + half laughing, yet with an uneasy recollection of his illness and + enfeebled mind. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Look here! I show you somedings.” He opened a drawer of his desk and + took out what appeared to be some diagrams, plans, and a small + water-colored map, like a surveyor's tracing. “Look,” he said, laying his + finger on the latter, “dat is a map from my fillage. I hef myselluff made + it out from my memory. Dot,” pointing to a blank space, “is der mountain + side high up, so far. It is no goot until I vill a tunnel make or der + grade lefel. Dere vas mine fader's house, dere vos der church, der + schoolhouse, dot vos de burgomaster's house,” he went on, pointing to the + respective plots in this old curving parallelogram of the mountain shelf. + “So was the fillage when I leave him on the 5th of March, eighteen hundred + and feefty. Now you shall see him shoost as I vill make him ven I go + back.” He took up another plan, beautifully drawn and colored, and + evidently done by a professional hand. It was a practical, yet almost + fairylike transformation of the same spot! The narrow mountain shelf was + widened by excavation, and a boulevard stretched on either side. A great + hotel, not unlike the one in which we sat, stood in an open terrace, with + gardens and fountains—the site of his father's house. Blocks of + pretty dwellings, shops, and cafes filled the intermediate space. I laid + down the paper. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you had this idea?” + </p> + <p> + “Efer since I left dere, fifteen years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “But your father and mother may be dead by this time?” + </p> + <p> + “So, but dere vill be odders. Und der blace—it vill remain.” + </p> + <p> + “But all this will cost a fortune, and you are not sure”— + </p> + <p> + “I know shoost vot id vill gost, to a cend.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think you can ever afford to carry out your idea?” + </p> + <p> + “I VILL affort id. Ven you shall make yet some moneys and go to Europe, + you shall see. I VILL infite you dere first. Now coom and look der house + around.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + I did NOT make “some moneys,” but I DID go to Europe. Three years after + this last interview with Rutli I was coming from Interlaken to Berne by + rail. I had not heard from him, and I had forgotten the name of his + village, but as I looked up from the paper I was reading, I suddenly + recognized him in the further end of the same compartment I occupied. His + recognition of me was evidently as sudden and unexpected. After our first + hand-grasp and greeting, I said:— + </p> + <p> + “And how about our new village?” + </p> + <p> + “Dere is no fillage.” + </p> + <p> + “What! You have given up the idea?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. There is no fillage, olt or new.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me a moment. “You have not heard?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + He gently picked up a little local guidebook that lay in my lap, and + turning its leaves, pointed to a page, and read as follows:— + </p> + <p> + “5 M. beyond, the train passes a curve R., where a fine view of the lake + may be seen. A little to the R. rises the steep slopes of the ——, + the scene of a terrible disaster. At three o'clock on March 5, 1850, the + little village of ——, lying midway of the slope, with its + population of 950 souls, was completely destroyed by a landslip from the + top of the mountain. So sudden was the catastrophe that not a single + escape is recorded. A large portion of the mountain crest, as will be + observed when it is seen in profile, descended to the valley, burying the + unfortunate village to a depth variously estimated at from 1000 ft. to + 1800 ft. The geological causes which produced this extraordinary + displacement have been fully discussed, but the greater evidence points to + the theory of subterranean glaciers. 5 M. beyond —— the train + crosses the R. bridge.” + </p> + <p> + I laid down the guide-book in breathless astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “And you never heard of this in all these years?” + </p> + <p> + “Nefer! I asked no questions, I read no pooks. I have no ledders from + home.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you”—I stopped, I could not call him a fool; neither could + I, in the face of his perfect composure and undisturbed eyes, exhibit a + concern greater than his own. An uneasy recollection of what he confessed + had been his mental condition immediately after his accident came over me. + Had he been the victim of a strange hallucination regarding his house and + family all these years? Were these dreams of revenge, this fancy of + creating a new village, only an outcome of some shock arising out of the + disaster itself, which he had long since forgotten? + </p> + <p> + He was looking from the window. “Coom,” he said, “ve are near der blace. I + vill show id to you.” He rose and passed out to the rear platform. We were + in the rear car, and a new panorama of the lake and mountains flashed upon + us at every curve of the line. I followed him. Presently he pointed to + what appeared to be a sheer wall of rock and stunted vegetation towering + two or three thousand feet above us, which started out of a gorge we were + passing. “Dere it vos!” he said. I saw the vast stretch of rock face + rising upward and onward, but nothing else. No debris, no ruins, nor even + a swelling or rounding of the mountain flank over that awful tomb. Yet, + stay! as we dashed across the gorge, and the face of the mountain shifted, + high up, the sky-line was slightly broken as if a few inches, a mere + handful, of the crest was crumbled away. And then—both gorge and + mountain vanished. + </p> + <p> + I was still embarrassed and uneasy, and knew not what to say to this man + at my side, whose hopes and ambition had been as quickly overthrown and + buried, and whose life-dream had as quickly vanished. But he himself, + taking his pipe from his lips, broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + “It vos a narrow esgabe!” + </p> + <p> + “What was?” + </p> + <p> + “Vy, dis dings. If I had stayed in my fader's house, I vould haf been det + for goot, and perried too! Somedimes dose dings cooms oudt apout right, + don't id?” + </p> + <p> + Unvanquished philosopher! As we stood there looking at the flying + landscape and sinking lesser hills, one by one the great snow peaks slowly + arose behind them, lifting themselves, as if to take a last wondering look + at the man they had triumphed over, but had not subdued. + </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> + THE PASSING OF ENRIQUEZ + </h2> + <p> + When Enriquez Saltillo ran away with Miss Mannersley, as already recorded + in these chronicles,* her relatives and friends found it much easier to + forgive that ill-assorted union than to understand it. For, after all, + Enriquez was the scion of an old Spanish-Californian family, and in due + time would have his share of his father's three square leagues, whatever + incongruity there was between his lively Latin extravagance and Miss + Mannersley's Puritan precision and intellectual superiority. They had gone + to Mexico; Mrs. Saltillo, as was known, having an interest in Aztec + antiquities, and he being utterly submissive to her wishes. For myself + from my knowledge of Enriquez's nature, I had grave doubts of his entire + subjugation, although I knew the prevailing opinion was that Mrs. + Saltillo's superiority would speedily tame him. Since his brief and + characteristic note apprising me of his marriage, I had not heard from + him. It was, therefore, with some surprise, a good deal of reminiscent + affection, and a slight twinge of reproach that, two years after, I looked + up from some proofs, in the sanctum of the “Daily Excelsior,” to recognize + his handwriting on a note that was handed to me by a yellow Mexican boy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * See “The Devotion of Enriquez,” in Selected Stories by + Bret Harte Gutenberg #1312. +</pre> + <p> + A single glance at its contents showed me that Mrs. Saltillo's correct + Bostonian speech had not yet subdued Enriquez's peculiar Spanish-American + slang:— + </p> + <p> + “Here we are again,—right side up with care,—at 1110 Dupont + Street, Telegraph Hill. Second floor from top. 'Ring and push.' 'No book + agents need apply.' How's your royal nibs? I kiss your hand! Come at six,—the + band shall play at seven,—and regard your friend 'Mees Boston,' who + will tell you about the little old nigger boys, and your old Uncle + 'Ennery.” + </p> + <p> + Two things struck me: Enriquez had not changed; Mrs. Saltillo had + certainly yielded up some of her peculiar prejudices. For the address + given, far from being a fashionable district, was known as the “Spanish + quarter,” which, while it still held some old Spanish families, was + chiefly given over to half-castes and obscurer foreigners. Even poverty + could not have driven Mrs. Saltillo to such a refuge against her will; + nevertheless, a good deal of concern for Enriquez's fortune mingled with + my curiosity, as I impatiently waited for six o'clock to satisfy it. + </p> + <p> + It was a breezy climb to 1110 Dupont Street; and although the street had + been graded, the houses retained their airy elevation, and were accessible + only by successive flights of wooden steps to the front door, which still + gave perilously upon the street, sixty feet below. I now painfully + appreciated Enriquez's adaptation of the time-honored joke about the + second floor. An invincible smell of garlic almost took my remaining + breath away as the door was opened to me by a swarthy Mexican woman, whose + loose camisa seemed to be slipping from her unstable bust, and was held on + only by the mantua-like shawl which supplemented it, gripped by one brown + hand. Dizzy from my ascent to that narrow perch, which looked upon nothing + but the distant bay and shores of Contra Costa, I felt as apologetic as if + I had landed from a balloon; but the woman greeted me with a languid + Spanish smile and a lazy display of white teeth, as if my arrival was + quite natural. Don Enriquez, “of a fact,” was not himself in the casa, but + was expected “on the instant.” “Donna Urania” was at home. + </p> + <p> + “Donna Urania”? For an instant I had forgotten that Mrs. Saltillo's first + name was Urania, so pleasantly and spontaneously did it fall from the + Spanish lips. Nor was I displeased at this chance of learning something of + Don Enriquez's fortunes and the Saltillo menage before confronting my old + friend. The servant preceded me to the next floor, and, opening a door, + ushered me into the lady's presence. + </p> + <p> + I had carried with me, on that upward climb, a lively recollection of Miss + Mannersley as I had known her two years before. I remembered her upright, + almost stiff, slight figure, the graceful precision of her poses, the + faultless symmetry and taste of her dress, and the atmosphere of a + fastidious and wholesome cleanliness which exhaled from her. In the lady I + saw before me, half reclining in a rocking-chair, there was none of the + stiffness and nicety. Habited in a loose gown of some easy, flexible, but + rich material, worn with that peculiarly indolent slouch of the Mexican + woman, Mrs. Saltillo had parted with half her individuality. Even her + arched feet and thin ankles, the close-fitting boots or small slippers of + which were wont to accent their delicacy, were now lost in a short, + low-quartered kid shoe of the Spanish type, in which they moved loosely. + Her hair, which she had always worn with a certain Greek simplicity, was + parted at one side. Yet her face, with its regularity of feature, and + small, thin, red-lipped mouth, was quite unchanged; and her velvety brown + eyes were as beautiful and inscrutable as ever. + </p> + <p> + With the same glance I had taken in her surroundings, quite as incongruous + to her former habits. The furniture, though of old and heavy mahogany, had + suffered from careless alien hands, and was interspersed with modern and + unmatchable makeshifts, yet preserving the distinctly scant and formal + attitude of furnished lodgings. It was certainly unlike the artistic + trifles and delicate refinements of her uncle's drawing-room, which we all + knew her taste had dictated and ruled. The black and white engravings, the + outlined heads of Minerva and Diana, were excluded from the walls for two + cheap colored Catholic prints,—a soulless Virgin, and the mystery of + the Bleeding Heart. Against the wall, in one corner, hung the only object + which seemed a memento of their travels,—a singular-looking upright + Indian “papoose-case” or cradle, glaringly decorated with beads and paint, + probably an Aztec relic. On a round table, the velvet cover of which + showed marks of usage and abusage, there were scattered books and writing + materials; and my editorial instinct suddenly recognized, with a thrill of + apprehension, the loose leaves of an undoubted manuscript. This + circumstance, taken with the fact of Donna Urania's hair being parted on + one side, and the general negligee of her appearance, was a disturbing + revelation. + </p> + <p> + My wandering eye apparently struck her, for after the first greeting she + pointed to the manuscript with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that is THE manuscript. I suppose Enriquez told you all about it? He + said he had written.” + </p> + <p> + I was dumfounded. I certainly had not understood ALL of Enriquez's slang; + it was always so decidedly his own, and peculiar. Yet I could not recall + any allusion to this. + </p> + <p> + “He told me something of it, but very vaguely,” I ventured to say + deprecatingly; “but I am afraid that I thought more of seeing my old + friend again than of anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “During our stay in Mexico,” continued Mrs. Saltillo, with something of + her old precision, “I made some researches into Aztec history, a subject + always deeply interesting to me, and I thought I would utilize the result + by throwing it on paper. Of course it is better fitted for a volume of + reference than for a newspaper, but Enriquez thought you might want to use + it for your journal.” + </p> + <p> + I knew that Enriquez had no taste for literature, and had even rather + depreciated it in the old days, with his usual extravagance; but I managed + to say very pleasantly that I was delighted with his suggestion and should + be glad to read the manuscript. After all, it was not improbable that Mrs. + Saltillo, who was educated and intelligent, should write well, if not + popularly. “Then Enriquez does not begrudge you the time that your work + takes from him,” I added laughingly. “You seem to have occupied your + honeymoon practically.” + </p> + <p> + “We quite comprehend our respective duties,” said Mrs. Saltillo dryly; + “and have from the first. We have our own lives to live, independent of my + uncle and Enriquez's father. We have not only accepted the responsibility + of our own actions, but we both feel the higher privilege of creating our + own conditions without extraneous aid from our relatives.” + </p> + <p> + It struck me that this somewhat exalted statement was decidedly a pose, or + a return of Urania Mannersley's old ironical style. I looked quietly into + her brown, near-sighted eyes; but, as once before, my glance seemed to + slip from their moist surface without penetrating the inner thought + beneath. “And what does Enriquez do for HIS part?” I asked smilingly. + </p> + <p> + I fully expected to hear that the energetic Enriquez was utilizing his + peculiar tastes and experiences by horse-breaking, stock-raising, + professional bull-fighting, or even horse-racing, but was quite astonished + when she answered quietly:— + </p> + <p> + “Enriquez is giving himself up to geology and practical metallurgy, with a + view to scientific, purely scientific, mining.” + </p> + <p> + Enriquez and geology! In that instant all I could remember of it were his + gibes at the “geologian,” as he was wont to term Professor Dobbs, a former + admirer of Miss Mannersley's. To add to my confusion Mrs. Saltillo at the + same moment absolutely voiced my thought. + </p> + <p> + “You may remember Professor Dobbs,” she went on calmly, “one of the most + eminent scientists over here, and a very old Boston friend. He has taken + Enriquez in hand. His progress is most satisfactory; we have the greatest + hopes of him.” + </p> + <p> + “And how soon do you both hope to have some practical results of his + study?” I could not help asking a little mischievously; for I somehow + resented the plural pronoun in her last sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Very soon,” said Mrs. Saltillo, ignoring everything but the question. + “You know Enriquez's sanguine temperament. Perhaps he is already given to + evolving theories without a sufficient basis of fact. Still, he has the + daring of a discoverer. His ideas of the oolitic formation are not without + originality, and Professor Dobbs says that in his conception of the + Silurian beach there are gleams that are distinctly precious.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at Mrs. Saltillo, who had reinforced her eyes with her old + piquant pince-nez, but could detect no irony in them. She was prettily + imperturbable, that was all. There was an awkward silence. Then it was + broken by a bounding step on the stairs, a wide-open fling of the door, + and Enriquez pirouetted into the room: Enriquez, as of old, unchanged from + the crown of his smooth, coal-black hair to the tips of his small, narrow + Arabian feet; Enriquez, with his thin, curling mustache, his dancing eyes + set in his immovable face, just as I had always known him! + </p> + <p> + He affected to lapse against the door for a minute, as if staggered by a + resplendent vision. Then he said:— + </p> + <p> + “What do I regard? Is it a dream, or have I again got them—thees + jimjams? My best friend and my best—I mean my ONLY—wife! + Embrace me!” + </p> + <p> + He gave me an enthusiastic embrace and a wink like sheet-lightning, passed + quickly to his wife, before whom he dropped on one knee, raised the toe of + her slipper to his lips, and then sank on the sofa in simulated collapse, + murmuring, “Thees is too mooch of white stone for one day!” + </p> + <p> + Through all this I saw his wife regarding him with exactly the same + critically amused expression with which she had looked upon him in the + days of their strange courtship. She evidently had not tired of his + extravagance, and yet I feel as puzzled by her manner as then. She rose + and said: “I suppose you have a good deal to say to each other, and I will + leave you by yourselves.” Turning to her husband, she added, “I have + already spoken about the Aztec manuscript.” + </p> + <p> + The word brought Enriquez to his feet again. “Ah! The little old nigger—you + have read?” I began to understand. “My wife, my best friend, and the + little old nigger, all in one day. Eet is perfect!” Nevertheless, in spite + of this ecstatic and overpowering combination, he hurried to take his + wife's hand; kissing it, he led her to a door opening into another room, + made her a low bow to the ground as she passed out, and then rejoined me. + </p> + <p> + “So these are the little old niggers you spoke of in your note,” I said, + pointing to the manuscript. “Deuce take me if I understood you!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my leetle brother, it is YOU who have changed!” said Enriquez + dolorously. “Is it that you no more understand American, or have the 'big + head' of the editor? Regard me! Of these Aztecs my wife have made study. + She have pursued the little nigger to his cave, his grotto, where he is + dead a thousand year. I have myself assist, though I like it not, because + thees mummy, look you, Pancho, is not lively. And the mummy who is not + dead, believe me! even the young lady mummy, you shall not take to your + heart. But my wife”—he stopped, and kissed his hand toward the door + whence she had flitted—“ah, SHE is wonderful! She has made the story + of them, the peecture of them, from the life and on the instant! You shall + take them, my leetle brother, for your journal; you shall announce in the + big letter: 'Mooch Importance. The Aztec, He is Found.' 'How He Look and + Lif.' 'The Everlasting Nigger.' You shall sell many paper, and Urania + shall have scoop in much spondulics and rocks. Hoop-la! For—you + comprehend?—my wife and I have settled that she shall forgif her + oncle; I shall forgif my father; but from them we take no cent, not a red, + not a scad! We are independent! Of ourselves we make a Fourth of July. + United we stand; divided we shall fall over! There you are! Bueno!” + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to resist his wild, yet perfectly sincere, extravagance, + his dancing black eyes and occasional flash of white teeth in his + otherwise immovable and serious countenance. Nevertheless, I managed to + say:— + </p> + <p> + “But how about yourself, Enriquez, and this geology, you know?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes twinkled. “Ah, you shall hear. But first you shall take a drink. + I have the very old Bourbon. He is not so old as the Aztec, but, believe + me, he is very much liflier. Attend! Hol' on!” He was already rummaging on + a shelf, but apparently without success; then he explored a buffet, with + no better results, and finally attacked a large drawer, throwing out on + the floor, with his old impetuosity, a number of geological specimens, + carefully labeled. I picked up one that had rolled near me. It was labeled + “Conglomerate sandstone.” I picked up another: it had the same label. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are really collecting?” I said, with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Ciertamente,” responded Enriquez,—“what other fool shall I look? I + shall relate of this geology when I shall have found this beast of a + bottle. Ah, here he have hide!” He extracted from a drawer a bottle nearly + full of spirits,—tippling was not one of Enriquez's vices. “You + shall say 'when.' 'Ere's to our noble selfs!” + </p> + <p> + When he had drunk, I picked up another fragment of his collection. It had + the same label. “You are very rich in 'conglomerate sandstone,'” I said. + “Where do you find it?” + </p> + <p> + “In the street,” said Enriquez, with great calmness. + </p> + <p> + “In the street?” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my friend! He ees call the 'cobblestone,' also the 'pouding-stone,' + when he ees at his home in the country. He ees also a small 'boulder.' I + pick him up; I crack him; he made three separate piece of conglomerate + sandstone. I bring him home to my wife in my pocket. She rejoice; we are + happy. When comes the efening, I sit down and make him a label; while my + wife, she sit down and write of the Aztec. Ah, my friend, you shall say of + the geology it ees a fine, a BEAUTIFUL study; but the study of the wife, + and what shall please her, believe me, ees much finer! Believe your old + Uncle 'Ennery every time! On thees question he gets there; he gets left, + nevarre!” + </p> + <p> + “But Professor Dobbs, your geologian, what does HE say to this frequent + recurrence of the conglomerate sandstone period in your study?” I asked + quickly. + </p> + <p> + “He say nothing. You comprehend? He ees a profound geologian, but he also + has the admiration excessif for my wife Urania.” He stopped to kiss his + hand again toward the door, and lighted a cigarette. “The geologian would + not that he should break up the happy efening of his friends by thees + small detail. He put aside his head—so; he say, 'A leetle freestone, + a leetle granite, now and then, for variety; they are building in + Montgomery Street.' I take the hint, like a wink to the horse that has + gone blind. I attach to myself part of the edifice that is erecting + himself in Montgomery Street. I crack him; I bring him home. I sit again + at the feet of my beautiful Urania, and I label him 'Freestone,' + 'Granite;' but I do not say 'from Parrott's Bank'—eet is not + necessary for our happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “And you do this sort of thing only because you think it pleases your + wife?” I asked bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” rejoined Enriquez, perching himself on the back of the sofa, + and caressing his knees as he puffed his cigarette meditatively, “you have + ask a conundrum. Gif to me an easier one! It is of truth that I make much + of these thing to please Urania. But I shall confess all. Behold, I appear + to you, my leetle brother, in my camisa—my shirt! I blow on myself; + I gif myself away.” + </p> + <p> + He rose gravely from the sofa, and drew a small box from one of the + drawers of the wardrobe. Opening it, he discovered several specimens of + gold-bearing quartz, and one or two scales of gold. “Thees,” he said, + “friend Pancho, is my own geology; for thees I am what you see. But I say + nothing to Urania; for she have much disgust of mere gold,—of what + she calls 'vulgar mining,'—and believe me, a fear of the effect of + 'speculation' upon my temperamento—you comprehend my complexion, my + brother? Reflect upon it, Pancho! I, who am the filosofo, if that I am + anything!” He looked at me with great levity of eye and supernatural + gravity of demeanor. “But eet ees the jealous affection of the wife, my + friend, for which I make play to her with the humble leetle pouding-stone + rather than the gold quartz that affrights.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you want with them, if you have no shares in anything and do + not speculate?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon! That ees where you slip up, my leetle friend.” He took from the + same drawer a clasped portfolio, and unlocked it, producing half a dozen + prospectuses and certificates of mining shares. I stood aghast as I + recognized the names of one or two extravagant failures of the last ten + years,—“played-out” mines that had been galvanized into deceptive + life in London, Paris, and New York, to the grief of shareholders abroad + and the laughter of the initiated at home. I could scarcely keep my + equanimity. “You do not mean to say that you have any belief or interest + in this rubbish?” I said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “What you call 'rubbish,' my good Pancho, ees the rubbish that the + American speculator have dump himself upon them in the shaft, the rubbish + of the advertisement, of the extravagant expense, of the salary, of the + assessment, of the 'freeze-out.' For thees, look you, is the old Mexican + mine. My grandfather and hees father have both seen them work before you + were born, and the American knew not there was gold in California.” + </p> + <p> + I knew he spoke truly. One or two were original silver mines in the south, + worked by peons and Indian slaves, a rope windlass, and a venerable + donkey. + </p> + <p> + “But those were silver mines,” I said suspiciously, “and these are gold + specimens.” + </p> + <p> + “They are from the same mother,” said the imperturbable Enriquez,—“the + same mine. The old peons worked him for SILVER, the precious dollar that + buy everything, that he send in the galleon to the Philippines for the + silk and spice! THAT is good enough for HIM! For the gold he made nothing, + even as my leetle wife Urania. And regard me here! There ees a proverb of + my father's which say that 'it shall take a gold mine to work a silver + mine,' so mooch more he cost. You work him, you are lost! Naturalmente, if + you turn him round, if it take you only a silver mine to work a gold mine, + you are gain. Thees ees logic!” + </p> + <p> + The intense gravity of his face at this extraordinary deduction upset my + own. But as I was never certain that Enriquez was not purposely mystifying + me, with some ulterior object, I could not help saying a little wickedly:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I understand all that; but how about this geologian? Will he not + tell your wife? You know he was a great admirer of hers.” + </p> + <p> + “That shall show the great intelligence of him, my Pancho. He will have + the four S's,' especially the secreto!” + </p> + <p> + There could be no serious discussion in his present mood. I gathered up + the pages of his wife's manuscript, said lightly that, as she had the + first claim upon my time, I should examine the Aztec material and report + in a day or two. As I knew I had little chance in the hands of these two + incomprehensibles together, I begged him not to call his wife, but to + convey my adieus to her, and, in spite of his embraces and protestations, + I managed to get out of the room. But I had scarcely reached the front + door when I heard Enriquez's voice and his bounding step on the stairs. In + another moment his arm was round my neck. + </p> + <p> + “You must return on the instant! Mother of God! I haf forget, SHE haf + forget, WE all haf forget! But you have not seen him!” + </p> + <p> + “Seen whom?” + </p> + <p> + “El nino, the baby! You comprehend, pig! The criaturica, the leetle child + of ourselfs!” + </p> + <p> + “The baby?” I said confusedly. “IS there—is there a BABY?” + </p> + <p> + “You hear him?” said Enriquez, sending an appealing voice upward. “You + hear him, Urania? You comprehend. This beast of a leetle brother demands + if there ees one!” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” I said, hurriedly reascending the stairs. On the + landing I met Mrs. Saltillo, but as calm, composed, and precise as her + husband was extravagant and vehement. “It was an oversight of Enriquez's,” + she said quietly, reentering the room with us; “and was all the more + strange, as the child was in the room with you all the time.” + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the corner of the wall, where hung what I had believed to + be an old Indian relic. To my consternation, it WAS a bark “papoose-case,” + occupied by a LIVING child, swathed and bandaged after the approved Indian + fashion. It was asleep, I believe, but it opened a pair of bright + huckleberry eyes, set in the smallest of features, that were like those of + a carved ivory idol, and uttered a “coo” at the sound of its mother's + voice. She stood on one side with unruffled composure, while Enriquez + threw himself into an attitude before it, with clasped hands, as if it had + been an image of the Holy Child. For myself, I was too astounded to speak; + luckily, my confusion was attributed to the inexperience of a bachelor. + </p> + <p> + “I have adopted,” said Mrs. Saltillo, with the faintest touch of maternal + pride in her manner, “what I am convinced is the only natural and hygienic + mode of treating the human child. It may be said to be a reversion to the + aborigine, but I have yet to learn that it is not superior to our + civilized custom. By these bandages the limbs of the infant are kept in + proper position until they are strong enough to support the body, and such + a thing as malformation is unknown. It is protected by its cradle, which + takes the place of its incubating-shell, from external injury, the + injudicious coddling of nurses, the so-called 'dancings' and pernicious + rockings. The supine position, as in the adult, is imposed only at night. + By the aid of this strap it may be carried on long journeys, either by + myself or by Enriquez, who thus shares with me, as he fully recognizes, + its equal responsibility and burden.” + </p> + <p> + “It—certainly does not—cry,” I stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Crying,” said Mrs. Saltillo, with a curve of her pretty red lip, “is the + protest of the child against insanitary and artificial treatment. In its + upright, unostentatious cradle it is protected against that injudicious + fondling and dangerous promiscuous osculation to which, as an infant in + human arms, it is so often subjected. Above all, it is kept from that + shameless and mortifying publicity so unjust to the weak and unformed + animal. The child repays this consideration by a gratifying silence. It + cannot be expected to understand our thoughts, speech, or actions; it + cannot participate in our pleasures. Why should it be forced into + premature contact with them, merely to feed our vanity or selfishness? Why + should we assume our particular parental accident as superior to the + common lot? If we do not give our offspring that prominence before our + visitors so common to the young wife and husband, it is for that reason + solely; and this may account for what seemed the forgetfulness of Enriquez + in speaking of it or pointing it out to you. And I think his action in + calling you back to see it was somewhat precipitate. As one does not + usually introduce an unknown and inferior stranger without some previous + introduction, he might have asked you if you wished to see the baby before + he recalled you.” + </p> + <p> + I looked from Urania's unfathomable eyes to Enriquez's impenetrable + countenance. I might have been equal to either of them alone, but together + they were invincible. I looked hopelessly at the baby. With its sharp + little eyes and composed face, it certainly was a marvelous miniature of + Enriquez. I said so. + </p> + <p> + “It would be singular if it was not,” said Mrs. Saltillo dryly; “and as I + believe it is by no means an uncommon fact in human nature, it seems to me + strange that people should insist upon it as a discovery. It is an + inheritance, however, that in due time progress and science will no doubt + interrupt, to the advancement of the human race. I need not say that both + Enriquez and myself look forward to it with confident tranquillity.” + </p> + <p> + There was clearly nothing for me to do now but to shake hands again and + take my leave. Yet I was so much impressed with the unreality of the whole + scene that when I reached the front door I had a strong impulse to return + suddenly and fall in upon them in their relaxed and natural attitudes. + They could not keep up this pose between themselves; and I half expected + to see their laughing faces at the window, as I glanced up before wending + my perilous way to the street. + </p> + <p> + I found Mrs. Saltillo's manuscript well written and, in the narrative + parts, even graphic and sparkling. I suppressed some general remarks on + the universe, and some correlative theories of existence, as not + appertaining particularly to the Aztecs, and as not meeting any + unquenchable thirst for information on the part of the readers of the + “Daily Excelsior.” I even promoted my fair contributor to the position of + having been commissioned, at great expense, to make the Mexican journey + especially for the “Excelsior.” This, with Mrs. Saltillo's somewhat + precise preraphaelite drawings and water-colors, vilely reproduced by + woodcuts, gave quite a sensational air to her production, which, divided + into parts, for two or three days filled a whole page of the paper. I am + not aware of any particular service that it did to ethnology; but, as I + pointed out in the editorial column, it showed that the people of + California were not given over by material greed to the exclusion of + intellectual research; and as it was attacked instantly in long + communications from one or two scientific men, it thus produced more copy. + </p> + <p> + Briefly, it was a boom for the author and the “Daily Excelsior.” I should + add, however, that a rival newspaper intimated that it was also a boom for + Mrs. Saitillo's HUSBAND, and called attention to the fact that a deserted + Mexican mine, known as “El Bolero,” was described graphically in the Aztec + article among the news, and again appeared in the advertising columns of + the same paper. I turned somewhat indignantly to the file of the + “Excelsior,” and, singularly enough, found in the elaborate prospectus of + a new gold-mining company the description of the El Bolero mine as a + QUOTATION from the Aztec article, with extraordinary inducements for the + investment of capital in the projected working of an old mine. If I had + had any difficulty in recognizing in the extravagant style the flamboyant + hand of Enriquez in English writing, I might have read his name plainly + enough displayed as president of the company. It was evidently the + prospectus of one of the ventures he had shown me. I was more amused than + indignant at the little trick he had played upon my editorial astuteness. + After all, if I had thus benefited the young couple I was satisfied. I had + not seen them since my first visit, as I was very busy,—my + communications with Mrs. Saltillo had been carried on by letters and + proofs,—and when I did finally call at their house, it was only to + find that they were visiting at San Jose. I wondered whether the baby was + still hanging on the wall, or, if he was taken with them, who carried him. + </p> + <p> + A week later the stock of El Bolero was quoted at par. More than that, an + incomprehensible activity had been given to all the deserted Mexican + mines, and people began to look up scrip hitherto thrown aside as + worthless. Whether it was one of those extraordinary fevers which attacked + Californian speculation in the early days, or whether Enriquez Saltillo + had infected the stock-market with his own extravagance, I never knew; but + plans as wild, inventions as fantastic, and arguments as illogical as ever + emanated from his own brain, were set forth “on 'Change” with a gravity + equal to his own. The most reasonable hypothesis was that it was the + effect of the well-known fact that the Spanish Californian hitherto had + not been a mining speculator, nor connected in any way with the gold + production on his native soil, deeming it inconsistent with his + patriarchal life and landed dignity, and that when a “son of one of the + oldest Spanish families, identified with the land and its peculiar + character for centuries, lent himself to its mineral exploitations,”—I + beg to say that I am quoting from the advertisement in the “Excelsior,”—“it + was a guerdon of success.” This was so far true that in a week Enriquez + Saltillo was rich, and in a fair way to become a millionaire. + </p> + <p> + It was a hot afternoon when I alighted from the stifling Wingdam coach, + and stood upon the cool, deep veranda of the Carquinez Springs Hotel. + After I had shaken off the dust which had lazily followed us, in our + descent of the mountain road, like a red smoke, occasionally overflowing + the coach windows, I went up to the room I had engaged for my brief + holiday. I knew the place well, although I could see that the hotel itself + had lately been redecorated and enlarged to meet the increasing + requirements of fashion. I knew the forest of enormous redwoods where one + might lose one's self in a five minutes' walk from the veranda. I knew the + rocky trail that climbed the mountain to the springs, twisting between + giant boulders. I knew the arid garden, deep in the wayside dust, with its + hurriedly planted tropical plants, already withering in the dry autumn + sunshine, and washed into fictitious freshness, night and morning by the + hydraulic irrigating-hose. I knew, too, the cool, reposeful night winds + that swept down from invisible snow-crests beyond, with the hanging out of + monstrous stars, that too often failed to bring repose to the feverish + guests. For the overstrained neurotic workers who fled hither from the + baking plains of Sacramento, or from the chill sea-fogs of San Francisco, + never lost the fierce unrest that had driven them here. Unaccustomed to + leisure, their enforced idleness impelled them to seek excitement in the + wildest gayeties; the bracing mountain air only reinvigorated them to + pursue pleasure as they had pursued the occupations they had left behind. + Their sole recreations were furious drives over break-neck roads; mad, + scampering cavalcades through the sedate woods; gambling parties in + private rooms, where large sums were lost by capitalists on leave; + champagne suppers; and impromptu balls that lasted through the calm, + reposeful night to the first rays of light on the distant snowline. + Unimaginative men, in their temporary sojourn they more often outraged or + dispossessed nature in her own fastnesses than courted her for sympathy or + solitude. There were playing-cards left lying behind boulders, and empty + champagne bottles forgotten in forest depths. + </p> + <p> + I remembered all this when, refreshed by a bath, I leaned from the balcony + of my room and watched the pulling up of a brake, drawn by six dusty, + foam-bespattered horses, driven by a noted capitalist. As its hot, + perspiring, closely veiled yet burning-faced fair occupants descended, in + all the dazzling glory of summer toilets, and I saw the gentlemen consult + their watches with satisfaction, and congratulate their triumphant driver, + I knew the characteristic excitement they had enjoyed from a “record run,” + probably for a bet, over a mountain road in a burning sun. + </p> + <p> + “Not bad, eh? Forty-four minutes from the summit!” + </p> + <p> + The voice seemed at my elbow. I turned quickly, to recognize an + acquaintance, a young San Francisco broker, leaning from the next balcony + to mine. But my attention was just then preoccupied by the face and + figure, which seemed familiar to me, of a woman who was alighting from the + brake. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” I asked; “the straight slim woman in gray, with the white + veil twisted round her felt hat?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Saltillo,” he answered; “wife of 'El Bolero' Saltillo, don't you + know. Mighty pretty woman, if she is a little stiffish and set up.” + </p> + <p> + Then I had not been mistaken! “Is Enriquez—is her husband—here?” + I asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + The man laughed. “I reckon not. This is the place for other people's + husbands, don't you know.” + </p> + <p> + Alas! I DID know; and as there flashed upon me all the miserable scandals + and gossip connected with this reckless, frivolous caravansary, I felt + like resenting his suggestion. But my companion's next words were more + significant:— + </p> + <p> + “Besides, if what they say is true, Saltillo wouldn't be very popular + here.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand,” I said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, after all that row he had with the El Bolero Company.” + </p> + <p> + “I never heard of any row,” I said, in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + The broker laughed incredulously. “Come! and YOU a newspaper man! Well, + maybe they DID try to hush it up, and keep it out of the papers, on + account of the stock. But it seems he got up a reg'lar shindy with the + board, one day; called 'em thieves and swindlers, and allowed he was + disgracing himself as a Spanish hidalgo by having anything to do with 'em. + Talked, they say, about Charles V. of Spain, or some other royal galoot, + giving his ancestors the land in trust! Clean off his head, I reckon. Then + shunted himself off the company, and sold out. You can guess he wouldn't + be very popular around here, with Jim Bestley, there,” pointing to the + capitalist who had driven the brake, “who used to be on the board with + him. No, sir. He was either lying low for something, or was off his head. + Think of his throwing up a place like that!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” I said indignantly. “He is mercurial, and has the quick + impulsiveness of his race, but I believe him as sane as any who sat with + him on the board. There must be some mistake, or you haven't got the whole + story.” Nevertheless, I did not care to discuss an old friend with a mere + acquaintance, and I felt secretly puzzled to account for his conduct, in + the face of his previous cleverness in manipulating the El Bolero, and the + undoubted fascination he had previously exercised over the stockholders. + The story had, of course, been garbled in repetition. I had never before + imagined what might be the effect of Enriquez's peculiar eccentricities + upon matter-of-fact people,—I had found them only amusing,—and + the broker's suggestion annoyed me. However, Mrs. Saltillo was here in the + hotel, and I should, of course, meet her. Would she be as frank with me? + </p> + <p> + I was disappointed at not finding her in the drawing-room or on the + veranda; and the heat being still unusually oppressive, I strolled out + toward the redwoods, hesitating for a moment in the shade before I ran the + fiery gauntlet of the garden. To my surprise, I had scarcely passed the + giant sentinels on its outskirts before I found that, from some unusual + condition of the atmosphere, the cold undercurrent of air which generally + drew through these pillared aisles was withheld that afternoon; it was + absolutely hotter than in the open, and the wood was charged throughout + with the acrid spices of the pine. I turned back to the hotel, reascended + to my bedroom, and threw myself in an armchair by the open window. My room + was near the end of a wing; the corner room at the end was next to mine, + on the same landing. Its closed door, at right angles to my open one, gave + upon the staircase, but was plainly visible from where I sat. I remembered + being glad that it was shut, as it enabled me without offense to keep my + own door open. + </p> + <p> + The house was very quiet. The leaves of a catalpa, across the roadway, + hung motionless. Somebody yawned on the veranda below. I threw away my + half-finished cigar, and closed my eyes. I think I had not lost + consciousness for more than a few seconds before I was awakened by the + shaking and thrilling of the whole building. As I staggered to my feet, I + saw the four pictures hanging against the wall swing outwardly from it on + their cords, and my door swing back against the wall. At the same moment, + acted upon by the same potential impulse, the door of the end room in the + hall, opposite the stairs, also swung open. In that brief moment I had a + glimpse of the interior of the room, of two figures, a man and a woman, + the latter clinging to her companion in abject terror. It was only for an + instant, for a second thrill passed through the house, the pictures + clattered back against the wall, the door of the end room closed violently + on its strange revelation, and my own door swung back also. Apprehensive + of what might happen, I sprang toward it, but only to arrest it an inch or + two before it should shut, when, as my experience had taught me, it might + stick by the subsidence of the walls. But it did stick ajar, and remained + firmly fixed in that position. From the clattering of the knob of the + other door, and the sound of hurried voices behind it, I knew that the + same thing had happened there when that door had fully closed. + </p> + <p> + I was familiar enough with earthquakes to know that, with the second shock + or subsidence of the earth, the immediate danger was passed, and so I was + able to note more clearly what else was passing. There was the usual + sudden stampede of hurrying feet, the solitary oath and scream, the + half-hysterical laughter, and silence. Then the tumult was reawakened to + the sound of high voices, talking all together, or the impatient calling + of absentees in halls and corridors. Then I heard the quick swish of + female skirts on the staircase, and one of the fair guests knocked + impatiently at the door of the end room, still immovably fixed. At the + first knock there was a sudden cessation of the hurried whisperings and + turning of the doorknob. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Saltillo, are you there? Are you frightened?” she called. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Saltillo”! It was SHE, then, who was in the room! I drew nearer my + door, which was still fixed ajar. Presently a voice,—Mrs. Saltillo's + voice,—with a constrained laugh in it, came from behind the door: + “Not a bit. I'll come down in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Do,” persisted the would-be intruder. “It's all over now, but we're all + going out into the garden; it's safer.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” answered Mrs. Saltillo. “Don't wait, dear. I'll follow. Run + away, now.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor, who was evidently still nervous, was glad to hurry away, and + I heard her retreating step on the staircase. The rattling of the door + began again, and at last it seemed to yield to a stronger pull, and opened + sufficiently to allow Mrs. Saltillo to squeeze through. I withdrew behind + my door. I fancied that it creaked as she passed, as if, noticing it ajar, + she had laid an inquiring hand upon it. I waited, but she was not followed + by any one. I wondered if I had been mistaken. I was going to the + bell-rope to summon assistance to move my own door when a sudden instinct + withheld me. If there was any one still in that room, he might come from + it just as the servant answered my call, and a public discovery would be + unavoidable. I was right. In another instant the figure of a man, whose + face I could not discern, slipped out of the room, passed my door, and + went stealthily down the staircase. + </p> + <p> + Convinced of this, I resolved not to call public attention to my being in + my own room at the time of the incident; so I did not summon any one, but, + redoubling my efforts, I at last opened the door sufficiently to pass out, + and at once joined the other guests in the garden. Already, with + characteristic recklessness and audacity, the earthquake was made light + of; the only dictate of prudence had resolved itself into a hilarious + proposal to “camp out” in the woods all night, and have a “torch-light + picnic.” Even then preparations were being made for carrying tents, + blankets, and pillows to the adjacent redwoods; dinner and supper, cooked + at campfires, were to be served there on stumps of trees and fallen logs. + The convulsion of nature had been used as an excuse for one of the wildest + freaks of extravagance that Carquinez Springs had ever known. Perhaps that + quick sense of humor which dominates the American male in exigencies of + this kind kept the extravagances from being merely bizarre and grotesque, + and it was presently known that the hotel and its menage were to be + appropriately burlesqued by some of the guests, who, attired as Indians, + would personate the staff, from the oracular hotel proprietor himself down + to the smart hotel clerk. + </p> + <p> + During these arrangements I had a chance of drawing near Mrs. Saltillo. I + fancied she gave a slight start as she recognized me; but her greetings + were given with her usual precision. “Have you been here long?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have only just come,” I replied laughingly; “in time for the shock.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you felt it, then? I was telling these ladies that our eminent + geologist, Professor Dobbs, assured me that these seismic disturbances in + California have a very remote centre, and are seldom serious.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be very satisfactory to have the support of geology at such a + moment,” I could not help saying, though I had not the slightest idea + whose the figure was that I had seen, nor, indeed, had I recognized it + among the guests. She did not seem to detect any significance in my + speech, and I added: “And where is Enriquez? He would enjoy this proposed + picnic to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Enriquez is at Salvatierra Rancho, which he lately bought from his + cousin.” + </p> + <p> + “And the baby? Surely, here is a chance for you to hang him up on a + redwood tonight, in his cradle.” + </p> + <p> + “The boy,” said Mrs. Saltillo quickly, “is no longer in his cradle; he has + passed the pupa state, and is now free to develop his own perfected limbs. + He is with his father. I do not approve of children being submitted to the + indiscriminate attentions of a hotel. I am here myself only for that + supply of ozone indicated for brain exhaustion.” + </p> + <p> + She looked so pretty and prim in her gray dress, so like her old correct + self, that I could not think of anything but her mental attitude, which + did not, by the way, seem much like mental depression. Yet I was aware + that I was getting no information of Enriquez's condition or affairs, + unless the whole story told by the broker was an exaggeration. I did not, + however, dare to ask more particularly. + </p> + <p> + “You remember Professor Dobbs?” she asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + This recalled a suspicion awakened by my vision, so suddenly that I felt + myself blushing. She did not seem to notice it, and was perfectly + composed. + </p> + <p> + “I do remember him. Is he here?” + </p> + <p> + “He is; that is what makes it so particularly unfortunate for me. You see, + after that affair of the board, and Enriquez's withdrawal, although + Enriquez may have been a little precipitate in his energetic way, I + naturally took my husband's part in public; for although we preserve our + own independence inviolable, we believe in absolute confederation as + against society.” + </p> + <p> + “But what has Professor Dobbs to do with the board?” I interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “The professor was scientific and geological adviser to the board, and it + was upon some report or suggestion of his that Enriquez took issue, + against the sentiment of the board. It was a principle affecting + Enriquez's Spanish sense of honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Do tell me all about it,” I said eagerly; “I am very anxious to know the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + “As I was not present at the time,” said Mrs. Saltillo, rebuking my + eagerness with a gentle frigidity, “I am unable to do so. Anything else + would be mere hearsay, and more or less ex parte. I do not approve of + gossip.” + </p> + <p> + “But what did Enriquez tell you? You surely know that.” + </p> + <p> + “THAT, being purely confidential, as between husband and wife,—perhaps + I should say partner and partner,—of course you do not expect me to + disclose. Enough that I was satisfied with it. I should not have spoken to + you about it at all, but that, through myself and Enriquez, you are an + acquaintance of the professor's, and I might save you the awkwardness of + presenting yourself with him. Otherwise, although you are a friend of + Enriquez, it need not affect your acquaintance with the professor.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang the professor!” I ejaculated. “I don't care a rap for HIM.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I differ with you,” said Mrs. Saltillo, with precision. “He is + distinctly an able man, and one cannot but miss the contact of his + original mind and his liberal teachings.” + </p> + <p> + Here she was joined by one of the ladies, and I lounged away. I dare say + it was very mean and very illogical, but the unsatisfactory character of + this interview made me revert again to the singular revelation I had seen + a few hours before. I looked anxiously for Professor Dobbs; but when I did + meet him, with an indifferent nod of recognition, I found I could by no + means identify him with the figure of her mysterious companion. And why + should I suspect him at all, in the face of Mrs. Saltillo's confessed + avoidance of him? Who, then, could it have been? I had seen them but an + instant, in the opening and the shutting of a door. It was merely the + shadowy bulk of a man that flitted past my door, after all. Could I have + imagined the whole thing? Were my perceptive faculties—just aroused + from slumber, too insufficiently clear to be relied upon? Would I not have + laughed had Urania, or even Enriquez himself, told me such a story? + </p> + <p> + As I reentered the hotel the clerk handed me a telegram. “There's been a + pretty big shake all over the country,” he said eagerly. “Everybody is + getting news and inquiries from their friends. Anything fresh?” He paused + interrogatively as I tore open the envelope. The dispatch had been + redirected from the office of the “Daily Excelsior.” It was dated, + “Salvatierra Rancho,” and contained a single line: “Come and see your old + uncle 'Ennery.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing in the wording of the message that was unlike Enriquez's + usual light-hearted levity, but the fact that he should have TELEGRAPHED + it to me struck me uneasily. That I should have received it at the hotel + where his wife and Professor Dobbs were both staying, and where I had had + such a singular experience, seemed to me more than a mere coincidence. An + instinct that the message was something personal to Enriquez and myself + kept me from imparting it to Mrs. Saltillo. After worrying half the night + in our bizarre camp in the redwoods, in the midst of a restless festivity + which was scarcely the repose I had been seeking at Carquinez Springs, I + resolved to leave the next day for Salvatierra Rancho. I remembered the + rancho,—a low, golden-brown, adobe-walled quadrangle, sleeping like + some monstrous ruminant in a hollow of the Contra Costa Range. I recalled, + in the midst of this noisy picnic, the slumberous coolness of its long + corridors and soundless courtyard, and hailed it as a relief. The telegram + was a sufficient excuse for my abrupt departure. In the morning I left, + but without again seeing either Mrs. Saltillo or the professor. + </p> + <p> + It was late the next afternoon when I rode through the canada that led to + the rancho. I confess my thoughts were somewhat gloomy, in spite of my + escape from the noisy hotel; but this was due to the sombre scenery + through which I had just ridden, and the monotonous russet of the leagues + of wild oats. As I approached the rancho, I saw that Enriquez had made no + attempt to modernize the old casa, and that even the garden was left in + its lawless native luxuriance, while the rude tiled sheds near the walled + corral contained the old farming implements, unchanged for a century, even + to the ox-carts, the wheels of which were made of a single block of wood. + A few peons, in striped shirts and velvet jackets, were sunning themselves + against a wall, and near them hung a half-drained pellejo, or goatskin + water-bag. The air of absolute shiftlessness must have been repellent to + Mrs. Saltillo's orderly precision, and for a moment I pitied her. But it + was equally inconsistent with Enriquez's enthusiastic ideas of American + progress, and the extravagant designs he had often imparted to me of the + improvements he would make when he had a fortune. I was feeling uneasy + again, when I suddenly heard the rapid clack of unshod hoofs on a rocky + trail that joined my own. At the same instant a horseman dashed past me at + full speed. I had barely time to swerve my own horse aside to avoid a + collision, yet in that brief moment I recognized the figure of Enriquez. + But his face I should have scarcely known. It was hard and fixed. His + upper lip and thin, penciled mustache were drawn up over his teeth, which + were like a white gash in his dark face. He turned into the courtyard of + the rancho. I put spurs to my horse, and followed, in nervous expectation. + He turned in his saddle as I entered. But the next moment he bounded from + his horse, and, before I could dismount, flew to my side and absolutely + lifted me from the saddle to embrace me. It was the old Enriquez again; + his face seemed to have utterly changed in that brief moment. + </p> + <p> + “This is all very well, old chap,” I said; “but do you know that you + nearly ran me down, just now, with that infernal half-broken mustang? Do + you usually charge the casa at that speed?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, my leetle brother! But here you shall slip up. The mustang is not + HALF-broken; he is not broke at all! Look at his hoof—never have a + shoe been there. For myself—attend me! When I ride alone, I think + mooch; when I think mooch I think fast; my idea he go like a cannon-ball! + Consequent, if I ride not thees horse like the cannon-ball, my thought HE + arrive first, and where are you? You get left! Believe me that I fly thees + horse, thees old Mexican plug, and your de' uncle 'Ennery and his leetle + old idea arrive all the same time, and on the instant.” + </p> + <p> + It WAS the old Enriquez! I perfectly understood his extravagant speech and + illustration, and yet for the first time I wondered if others did. + </p> + <p> + “Tak'-a-drink!” he said, all in one word. “You shall possess the old + Bourbon or the rhum from the Santa Cruz! Name your poison, gentlemen!” + </p> + <p> + He had already dragged me up the steps from the patio to the veranda, and + seated me before a small round table still covered with the chocolate + equipage of the morning. A little dried-up old Indian woman took it away, + and brought the spirits and glasses. + </p> + <p> + “Mirar the leetle old one!” said Enriquez, with unflinching gravity. + “Consider her, Pancho, to the bloosh! She is not truly an Aztec, but she + is of years one hundred and one, and LIFS! Possibly she haf not the beauty + which ravishes, which devastates. But she shall attent you to the hot + water, to the bath. Thus shall you be protect, my leetle brother, from + scandal.” + </p> + <p> + “Enriquez,” I burst out suddenly, “tell me about yourself. Why did you + leave the El Bolero board? What was the row about?” + </p> + <p> + Enriquez's eyes for a moment glittered; then they danced as before. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” he said, “you have heard?” + </p> + <p> + “Something; but I want to know the truth from you.” + </p> + <p> + He lighted a cigarette, lifted himself backward into a grass hammock, on + which he sat, swinging his feet. Then, pointing to another hammock, he + said: “Tranquillize yourself there. I will relate; but, truly, it ees + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + He took a long pull at his cigarette, and for a few moments seemed quietly + to exude smoke from his eyes, ears, nose, even his finger-ends—everywhere, + in fact, but his mouth. That and his mustache remained fixed. Then he said + slowly, flicking away the ashes with his little finger:— + </p> + <p> + “First you understand, friend Pancho, that I make no row. The other + themself make the row, the shindig. They make the dance, the howl, the + snap of the finger, the oath, the 'Helen blazes,' the 'Wot the devil,' the + 'That be d—d,' the bad language; they themselves finger the + revolver, advance the bowie-knife, throw off the coat, square off, and say + 'Come on.' I remain as you see me now, little brother—tranquil.” He + lighted another cigarette, made his position more comfortable in the + hammock, and resumed: “The Professor Dobbs, who is the geologian of the + company, made a report for which he got two thousand dollar. But thees + report—look you, friend Pancho—he is not good for the mine. + For in the hole in the ground the Professor Dobbs have found a 'hoss.'” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “A hoss,” repeated Enriquez, with infinite gravity. “But not, leetle + Pancho, the hoss that run, the hoss that buck-jump, but what the miner + call a 'hoss,' a something that rear up in the vein and stop him. You pick + around the hoss; you pick under him; sometimes you find the vein, + sometimes you do not. The hoss rear up, and remain! Eet ees not good for + the mine. The board say, 'D—- the hoss!' 'Get rid of the hoss.' + 'Chuck out the hoss.' Then they talk together, and one say to the + Professor Dobbs: 'Eef you cannot thees hoss remove from the mine, you can + take him out of the report.' He look to me, thees professor. I see + nothing; I remain tranquil. Then the board say: 'Thees report with the + hoss in him is worth two thousand dollar, but WITHOUT the hoss he is worth + five thousand dollar. For the stockholder is frighted of the rearing hoss. + It is of a necessity that the stockholder should remain tranquil. Without + the hoss the report is good; the stock shall errise; the director shall + sell out, and leave the stockholder the hoss to play with.' The professor + he say, 'Al-right;' he scratch out the hoss, sign his name, and get a + check for three thousand dollar.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I errise—so!” He got up from the hammock, suiting the action + to the word, and during the rest of his narrative, I honestly believe, + assumed the same attitude and deliberate intonation he had exhibited at + the board. I could even fancy I saw the reckless, cynical faces of his + brother directors turned upon his grim, impassive features. “I am + tranquil. I smoke my cigarette. I say that for three hundred year my + family have held the land of thees mine; that it pass from father to son, + and from son to son; it pass by gift, it pass by grant, but that NEVARRE + THERE PASS A LIE WITH IT! I say it was a gift by a Spanish Christian king + to a Christian hidalgo for the spread of the gospel, and not for the cheat + and the swindle! I say that this mine was worked by the slave, and by the + mule, by the ass, but never by the cheat and swindler. I say that if they + have struck the hoss in the mine, they have struck a hoss IN THE LAND, a + Spanish hoss; a hoss that have no bridle worth five thousand dollar in his + mouth, but a hoss to rear, and a hoss that cannot be struck out by a + Yankee geologian; and that hoss is Enriquez Saltillo!” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and laid aside his cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Then they say, 'Dry up,' and 'Sell out;' and the great bankers say, 'Name + your own price for your stock, and resign.' And I say, 'There is not + enough gold in your bank, in your San Francisco, in the mines of + California, that shall buy a Spanish gentleman. When I leave, I leave the + stock at my back; I shall take it, nevarre! Then the banker he say, 'And + you will go and blab, I suppose?' And then, Pancho, I smile, I pick up my + mustache—so! and I say: 'Pardon, senor, you haf mistake, The + Saltillo haf for three hundred year no stain, no blot upon him. Eet is not + now—the last of the race—who shall confess that he haf sit at + a board of disgrace and dishonor!' And then it is that the band begin to + play, and the animals stand on their hind leg and waltz, and behold, the + row he haf begin!” + </p> + <p> + I ran over to him, and fairly hugged him. But he put me aside with a + gentle and philosophical calm. “Ah, eet is nothing, Pancho. It is, believe + me, all the same a hundred years to come, and where are you, then? The + earth he turn round, and then come el temblor, the earthquake, and there + you are! Bah! eet is not of the board that I have asked you to come; it is + something else I would tell you. Go and wash yourself of thees journey, my + leetle brother, as I have”—looking at his narrow, brown, well-bred + hands—“wash myself of the board. Be very careful of the leetle old + woman, Pancho; do not wink to her of the eye! Consider, my leetle brother, + for one hundred and one year he haf been as a nun, a saint! Disturb not + her tranquillity.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was the old Enriquez; but he seemed graver,—if I could use + that word of one of such persistent gravity; only his gravity heretofore + had suggested a certain irony rather than a melancholy which I now fancied + I detected. And what was this “something else” he was to “tell me later”? + Did it refer to Mrs. Saltillo? I had purposely waited for him to speak of + her, before I should say anything of my visit to Carquinez Springs. I + hurried through my ablutions in the hot water, brought in a bronze jar on + the head of the centenarian handmaid; and even while I was smiling over + Enriquez's caution regarding this aged Ruth, I felt I was getting nervous + to hear his news. + </p> + <p> + I found him in his sitting-room, or study,—a long, low apartment + with small, deep windows like embrasures in the outer adobe wall, but + glazed in lightly upon the veranda. He was sitting quite abstractedly, + with a pen in his hand, before a table, on which a number of sealed + envelopes were lying. He looked SO formal and methodical for Enriquez. + </p> + <p> + “You like the old casa, Pancho?” he said in reply to my praise of its + studious and monastic gloom. “Well, my leetle brother, some day that is + fair—who knows?—it may be at your disposicion; not of our + politeness, but of a truth, friend Pancho. For, if I leave it to my wife”—it + was the first time he had spoken of her—“for my leetle child,” he + added quickly, “I shall put in a bond, an obligacion, that my friend + Pancho shall come and go as he will.” + </p> + <p> + “The Saltillos are a long-lived race,” I laughed. “I shall be a + gray-haired man, with a house and family of my own by that time.” But I + did not like the way he had spoken. + </p> + <p> + “Quien sabe?” he only said, dismissing the question with the national + gesture. After a moment he added: “I shall tell you something that is + strrange, so strrange that you shall say, like the banker say, 'Thees + Enriquez, he ees off his head; he ees a crank, a lunatico;' but it ees a + FACT; believe me, I have said!” + </p> + <p> + He rose, and, going to the end of the room, opened a door. It showed a + pretty little room, femininely arranged in Mrs. Saltillo's refined taste. + “Eet is pretty; eet is the room of my wife. Bueno! attend me now.” He + closed the door, and walked back to the table. “I have sit here and write + when the earthquake arrive. I have feel the shock, the grind of the walls + on themselves, the tremor, the stagger, and—that—door—he + swing open!” + </p> + <p> + “The door?” I said, with a smile that I felt was ghastly. + </p> + <p> + “Comprehend me,” he said quickly; “it ees not THAT which ees strrange. The + wall lift, the lock slip, the door he fell open; it is frequent; it comes + so ever when the earthquake come. But eet is not my wife's room I see; it + is ANOTHER ROOM, a room I know not. My wife Urania, she stand there, of a + fear, of a tremble; she grasp, she cling to someone. The earth shake + again; the door shut. I jump from my table; I shake and tumble to the + door. I fling him open. Maravilloso! it is the room of my wife again. She + is NOT there; it is empty; it is nothing!” + </p> + <p> + I felt myself turning hot and cold by turns. I was horrified, and—and + I blundered. “And who was the other figure?” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” repeated Enriquez, with a pause, a fixed look at me, and a sublime + gesture. “Who SHOULD it be, but myself, Enriquez Saltillo?” + </p> + <p> + A terrible premonition that this was a chivalrous LIE, that it was NOT + himself he had seen, but that our two visions were identical, came upon + me. “After all,” I said, with a fixed smile, “if you could imagine you saw + your wife, you could easily imagine you saw yourself too. In the shock of + the moment you thought of HER naturally, for then she would as naturally + seek your protection. You have written for news of her?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Enriquez quietly. + </p> + <p> + “No?” I repeated amazedly. + </p> + <p> + “You understand, Pancho! Eef it was the trick of my eyes, why should I + affright her for the thing that is not? If it is the truth, and it arrive + to ME, as a warning, why shall I affright her before it come?” + </p> + <p> + “Before WHAT comes? What is it a warning of?” I asked impetuously. + </p> + <p> + “That we shall be separated! That I go, and she do not.” + </p> + <p> + To my surprise, his dancing eyes had a slight film over them. “I don't + understand you,” I said awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “Your head is not of a level, my Pancho. Thees earthquake he remain for + only ten seconds, and he fling open the door. If he remain for twenty + seconds, he fling open the wall, the hoose toomble, and your friend + Enriquez is feenish.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” I said. “Professor—I mean the geologists—say that + the centre of disturbance of these Californian earthquakes is some + far-away point in the Pacific and there never will be any serious + convulsions here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the geologist,” said Enriquez gravely, “understand the hoss that rear + in the mine, and the five thousand dollar, believe me, no more. He haf lif + here three year. My family haf lif here three hundred. My grandfather saw + the earth swallow the church of San Juan Baptista.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed, until, looking up, I was shocked to see for the first time that + his dancing eyes were moist and shining. But almost instantly he jumped + up, and declared that I had not seen the garden and the corral, and, + linking his arm in mine, swept me like a whirlwind into the patio. For an + hour or two he was in his old invincible spirits. I was glad I had said + nothing of my visit to Carquinez Springs and of seeing his wife; I + determined to avoid it as long as possible; and as he did not again refer + to her, except in the past, it was not difficult. At last he infected me + with his extravagance, and for a while I forgot even the strangeness of + his conduct and his confidences. We walked and talked together as of old. + I understood and enjoyed him perfectly, and it was not strange that in the + end I began to believe that this strange revelation was a bit of his + extravagant acting, got up to amuse me. The coincidence of his story with + my own experience was not, after all, such a wonderful thing, considering + what must have been the nervous and mental disturbance produced by the + earthquake. We dined together, attended only by Pedro, an old half-caste + body-servant. It was easy to see that the household was carried on + economically, and, from a word or two casually dropped by Enriquez, it + appeared that the rancho and a small sum of money were all that he + retained from his former fortune when he left the El Bolero. The stock he + kept intact, refusing to take the dividend upon it until that collapse of + the company should occur which he confidently predicted, when he would + make good the swindled stockholders. I had no reason to doubt his perfect + faith in this. + </p> + <p> + The next morning we were up early for a breezy gallop over the three + square miles of Enriquez's estate. I was astounded, when I descended to + the patio, to find Enriquez already mounted, and carrying before him, + astride of the horn of his saddle, a small child,—the identical + papoose of my memorable first visit. But the boy was no longer swathed and + bandaged, although, for security, his plump little body was engirt by the + same sash that encircled his father's own waist. I felt a stirring of + self-reproach; I had forgotten all about him! To my suggestion that the + exercise might be fatiguing to him, Enriquez shrugged his shoulders:— + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, no! He is ever with me when I go on the pasear. He is not too + yonge. For he shall learn 'to rride, to shoot, and to speak the truth,' + even as the Persian chile. Eet ees all I can gif to him.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, I think the boy enjoyed it, and I knew he was safe with such + an accomplished horseman as his father. Indeed, it was a fine sight to see + them both careering over the broad plain, Enriquez with jingling spurs and + whirling riata, and the boy, with a face as composed as his father's, and + his tiny hand grasping the end of the flapping rein with a touch scarcely + lighter than the skillful rider's own. It was a lovely morning; though + warm and still, there was a faint haze—a rare thing in that climate—on + the distant range. The sun-baked soil, arid and thirsty from the long + summer drought, and cracked into long fissures, broke into puffs of dust, + with a slight detonation like a pistol-shot, at each stroke of our + pounding hoofs. Suddenly my horse swerved in full gallop, almost lost his + footing, “broke,” and halted with braced fore feet, trembling in every + limb. I heard a shout from Enriquez at the same instant, and saw that he + too had halted about a hundred paces from me, with his hand uplifted in + warning, and between us a long chasm in the dry earth, extending across + the whole field. But the trembling of the horse continued until it + communicated itself to me. I was shaking, too, and, looking about for the + cause, when I beheld the most weird and remarkable spectacle I had ever + witnessed. The whole llano, or plain, stretching to the horizon-line, was + DISTINCTLY UNDULATING! The faint haze of the hills was repeated over its + surface, as if a dust had arisen from some grinding displacement of the + soil. I threw myself from my horse, but the next moment was fain to cling + to him, as I felt the thrill under my very feet. Then there was a pause, + and I lifted my head to look for Enriquez. He was nowhere to be seen! With + a terrible recollection of the fissure that had yawned between us, I + sprang to the saddle again, and spurred the frightened beast toward that + point. BUT IT WAS GONE, TOO! I rode backward and forward repeatedly along + the line where I had seen it only a moment before. The plain lay compact + and uninterrupted, without a crack or fissure. The dusty haze that had + arisen had passed as mysteriously away; the clear outline of the valley + returned; the great field was empty! + </p> + <p> + Presently I was aware of the sound of galloping hoofs. I remembered then—what + I had at first forgotten—that a few moments before we had crossed an + arroyo, or dried bed of a stream, depressed below the level of the field. + How foolish that I had not remembered! He had evidently sought that + refuge; there were his returning hoofs. I galloped toward it, but only to + meet a frightened vaquero, who had taken that avenue of escape to the + rancho. + </p> + <p> + “Did you see Don Enriquez?” I asked impatiently. + </p> + <p> + I saw that the man's terror was extreme, and his eyes were staring in + their sockets. He hastily crossed himself:— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, God, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” I demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me with staring, vacant eyes, and, pointing to the ground, + said in Spanish: “He has returned to the land of his fathers!” + </p> + <p> + We searched for him that day and the next, when the country was aroused + and his neighbors joined in a quest that proved useless. Neither he nor + his innocent burden was ever seen again of men. Whether he had been + engulfed by mischance in some unsuspected yawning chasm in that brief + moment, or had fulfilled his own prophecy by deliberately erasing himself + for some purpose known only to himself, no one ever knew. His + country-people shook their heads and said “it was like a Saltillo.” And + the few among his retainers who knew him and loved him, whispered still + more ominously: “He will yet return to his land to confound the + Americanos.” + </p> + <p> + Yet the widow of Enriquez did NOT marry Professor Dobbs. But she too + disappeared from California, and years afterward I was told that she was + well known to the ingenuous Parisians as the usual wealthy widow “from + South America.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Stories in Light and Shadow, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW *** + +***** This file should be named 2508-h.htm or 2508-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/0/2508/ + +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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