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diff --git a/2556-h/2556-h.htm b/2556-h/2556-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5a412e --- /dev/null +++ b/2556-h/2556-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7216 @@ +<?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> + Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation, 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 Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation and Other +Stories, by Bret Harte + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation and Other Stories + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 18, 2006 [EBook #2556] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. JACK HAMLIN'S MEDIATION *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; An Anonymous Volunteer; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + MR. JACK HAMLIN'S MEDIATION + </h1> + <h2> + By Bret Harte + </h2> + <h3> + From: “ARGONAUT EDITION” OF THE WORKS OF BRET HARTE, VOL. 12.<br /> <br /> + P. F. COLLIER & SON<br /> <br /> NEW YORK <br /> <br /> + </h3> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> MR. JACK HAMLIN'S MEDIATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE MAN AT THE SEMAPHORE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> AN ESMERALDA OF ROCKY CANYON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> DICK SPINDLER'S FAMILY CHRISTMAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> WHEN THE WATERS WERE UP AT “JULES'” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE BOOM IN THE “CALAVERAS CLARION” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE SECRET OF SOBRIENTE'S WELL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> LIBERTY JONES'S DISCOVERY </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> + <h2> + MR. JACK HAMLIN'S MEDIATION + </h2> + <p> + At nightfall it began to rain. The wind arose too, and also began to + buffet a small, struggling, nondescript figure, creeping along the trail + over the rocky upland meadow towards Rylands's rancho. At times its head + was hidden in what appeared to be wings thrown upward from its shoulders; + at times its broad-brimmed hat was cocked jauntily on one side, and again + the brim was fixed over the face like a visor. At one moment a drifting + misshapen mass of drapery, at the next its vague garments, beaten back + hard against the figure, revealed outlines far too delicate for that rude + enwrapping. For it was Mrs. Rylands herself, in her husband's hat and her + “hired man's” old blue army overcoat, returning from the post-office two + miles away. The wind continued its aggression until she reached the front + door of her newly plastered farmhouse, and then a heavier blast shook the + pines above the low-pitched, shingled roof, and sent a shower of arrowy + drops after her like a Parthian parting, as she entered. She threw aside + the overcoat and hat, and somewhat inconsistently entered the + sitting-room, to walk to the window and look back upon the path she had + just traversed. The wind and the rain swept down a slope, half meadow, + half clearing,—a mile away,—to a fringe of sycamores. A mile + further lay the stage road, where, three hours later, her husband would + alight on his return from Sacramento. It would be a long wet walk for + Joshua Rylands, as their only horse had been borrowed by a neighbor. + </p> + <p> + In that fading light Mrs. Rylands's oval cheek was shining still from the + raindrops, but there was something in the expression of her worried face + that might have as readily suggested tears. She was strikingly handsome, + yet quite as incongruous an ornament to her surroundings as she had been + to her outer wrappings a moment ago. Even the clothes she now stood in + hinted an inadaptibility to the weather—the house—the position + she occupied in it. A figured silk dress, spoiled rather than overworn, + was still of a quality inconsistent with her evident habits, and the + lace-edged petticoat that peeped beneath it was draggled with mud and + unaccustomed usage. Her glossy black hair, which had been tossed into + curls in some foreign fashion, was now wind-blown into a burlesque of it. + This incongruity was still further accented by the appearance of the room + she had entered. It was coldly and severely furnished, making the chill of + the yet damp white plaster unpleasantly obvious. A black harmonium organ + stood in one corner, set out with black and white hymn-books; a + trestle-like table contained a large Bible; half a dozen black, + horsehair-cushioned chairs stood, geometrically distant, against the + walls, from which hung four engravings of “Paradise Lost” in black + mourning frames; some dried ferns and autumn leaves stood in a vase on the + mantelpiece, as if the chill of the room had prematurely blighted them. + The coldly glittering grate below was also decorated with withered sprays, + as if an attempt had been made to burn them, but was frustrated through + damp. Suddenly recalled to a sense of her wet boots and the new carpet, + she hurriedly turned away, crossed the hall into the dining-room, and + thence passed into the kitchen. The “hired girl,” a large-boned + Missourian, a daughter of a neighboring woodman, was peeling potatoes at + the table. Mrs. Rylands drew a chair before the kitchen stove, and put her + wet feet on the hob. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet a cooky, Mess Rylands, you've done forgot the vanillar,” said + the girl, with a certain domestic and confidential familiarity. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rylands started guiltily. She made a miserable feint of looking in + her lap and on the table. “I'm afraid I did, Jane, if I didn't bring it in + HERE.” + </p> + <p> + “That you didn't,” returned Jane. “And I reckon ye forgot that 'ar + pepper-sauce for yer husband.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rylands looked up with piteous contrition. “I really don't know + what's the matter with me. I certainly went into the shop, and had it on + my list,—and—really”— + </p> + <p> + Jane evidently knew her mistress, and smiled with superior toleration. + “It's kinder bewilderin' goin' in them big shops, and lookin' round them + stuffed shelves.” The shop at the cross roads and post-office was 14 x 14, + but Jane was nurtured on the plains. “Anyhow,” she added good-humoredly, + “the expressman is sure to look in as he goes by, and you've time to give + him the order.” + </p> + <p> + “But is he SURE to come?” asked Mrs. Rylands anxiously. “Mr. Rylands will + be so put out without his pepper-sauce.” + </p> + <p> + “He's sure to come ef he knows you're here. Ye kin always kalkilate on + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” said Mrs. Rylands abstractedly. + </p> + <p> + “Why? 'cause he just can't keep his eyes off ye! That's why he comes every + day,—'tain't jest for trade!” + </p> + <p> + This was quite true, not only of the expressman, but of the butcher and + baker, and the “candlestick-maker,” had there been so advanced a vocation + at the cross roads. All were equally and curiously attracted by her + picturesque novelty. Mrs. Rylands knew this herself, but without vanity or + coquettishness. Possibly that was why the other woman told her. She only + slightly deepened the lines of discontent in her cheek and said + abstractedly, “Well, when he comes, YOU ask him.” + </p> + <p> + She dried her shoes, put on a pair of slippers that had a faded splendor + about them, and went up to her bedroom. Here she hesitated for some time + between the sewing-machine and her knitting-needles, but finally settled + upon the latter, and a pair of socks for her husband which she had begun a + year ago. But she presently despaired of finishing them before he + returned, three hours hence, and so applied herself to the sewing-machine. + For a little while its singing hum was heard between the blasts that shook + the house, but the thread presently snapped, and the machine was put aside + somewhat impatiently, with a discontented drawing of the lines around her + handsome mouth. Then she began to “tidy” the room, putting a great many + things away and bringing out a great many more, a process that was + necessarily slow, owing to her falling into attitudes of minute inspection + of certain articles of dress, with intervals of trying them on, and + observing their effect in her mirror. This kind of interruption also + occurred while she was putting away some books that were lying about on + chairs and tables, stopping midway to open their pages, becoming + interested, and quite finishing one chapter, with the book held close + against the window to catch the fading light of day. The feminine reader + will gather from this that Mrs. Rylands, though charming, was not facile + in domestic duties. She had just glanced at the clock, and lit the candle + to again set herself to work, and thus bridge over the two hours more of + waiting, when there came a tap at the door. She opened it to Jane. + </p> + <p> + “There's an entire stranger downstairs, ez hez got a lame hoss and wants + to borry a fresh one.” + </p> + <p> + “We have none, you know,” said Mrs. Rylands, a little impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Thet's what I told him. Then he wanted to know ef he could lie by here + till he could get one or fix up his own hoss.” + </p> + <p> + “As you like; you know if you can manage it,” said Mrs. Rylands, a little + uneasily. “When Mr. Rylands comes you can arrange it between you. Where is + he now?” + </p> + <p> + “In the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + “The kitchen!” echoed Mrs. Rylands. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am, I showed him into the parlor, but he kinder shivered his + shoulders, and reckoned ez how he'd go inter the kitchen. Ye see, ma'am, + he was all wet, and his shiny big boots was sloppy. But he ain't one o' + the stuck-up kind, and he's willin' to make hisself cowf'ble before the + kitchen stove.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, he don't want ME,” said Mrs. Rylands, with a relieved voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” said Jane, apparently equally relieved. “Only, I thought I'd just + tell you.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, in crossing the upper hall, Mrs. Rylands heard Jane's + voice from the kitchen raised in rustic laughter. Had she been satirically + inclined, she might have understood Jane's willingness to relieve her + mistress of the duty of entertaining the stranger; had she been + philosophical, she might have considered the girl's dreary, monotonous + life at the rancho, and made allowance for her joy at this rare + interruption of it. But I fear that Mrs. Rylands was neither satirical nor + philosophical, and presently, when Jane reentered, with color in her + alkaline face, and light in her huckleberry eyes, and said she was going + over to the cattle-sheds in the “far pasture,” to see if the hired man + didn't know of some horse that could be got for the stranger, Mrs. Rylands + felt a little bitterness in the thought that the girl would have scarcely + volunteered to go all that distance in the rain for HER. Yet, in a few + moments she forgot all about it, and even the presence of her guest in the + house, and in one of her fitful abstracted employments passed through the + dining-room into the kitchen, and had opened the door with an “Oh, Jane!” + before she remembered her absence. + </p> + <p> + The kitchen, lit by a single candle, could be only partly seen by her as + she stood with her hand on the lock, although she herself was plainly + visible. There was a pause, and then a quiet, self-possessed, yet amused, + voice answered:— + </p> + <p> + “My name isn't Jane, and if you're the lady of the house, I reckon yours + wasn't ALWAYS Rylands.” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of the voice Mrs. Rylands threw the door wide open, and as + her eyes fell upon the speaker—her unknown guest—she recoiled + with a little cry, and a white, startled face. Yet the stranger was young + and handsome, dressed with a scrupulousness and elegance which even the + stress of travel had not deranged, and he was looking at her with a smile + of recognition, mingled with that careless audacity and self-possession + which seemed to be the characteristic of his face. + </p> + <p> + “Jack Hamlin!” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “That's me, all the time,” he responded easily, “and YOU'RE Nell + Montgomery!” + </p> + <p> + “How did you know I was here? Who told you?” she said impetuously. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody! never was so surprised in my life! When you opened that door just + now you might have knocked me down with a feather.” Yet he spoke lazily, + with an amused face, and looked at her without changing his position. + </p> + <p> + “But you MUST have known SOMETHING! It was no mere accident,” she went on + vehemently, glancing around the room. + </p> + <p> + “That's where you slip up, Nell,” said Hamlin imperturbably. “It WAS an + accident and a bad one. My horse lamed himself coming down the grade. I + sighted the nearest shanty, where I thought I might get another horse. It + happened to be this.” For the first time he changed his attitude, and + leaned back contemplatively in his chair. + </p> + <p> + She came towards him quickly. “You didn't use to lie, Jack,” she said + hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't afford it in my business,—and can't now,” said Jack + cheerfully. “But,” he added curiously, as if recognizing something in his + companion's agitation, and lifting his brown lashes to her, the window, + and the ceiling, “what's all this about? What's your little game here?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm married,” she said, with nervous intensity,—“married, and this + is my husband's house!” + </p> + <p> + “Not married straight out!—regularly fixed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “One of the boys? Don't remember any Rylands. SPELTER used to be very + sweet on you,—but Spelter mightn't have been his real name?” + </p> + <p> + “None of our lot! No one you ever knew; a—a straight out, square + man,” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Nell, look here! You ought to have shown up your cards without + even a call. You ought to have told him that you danced at the Casino.” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Before he asked you to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “Before.” + </p> + <p> + Jack got up from his chair, put his hands in his pockets, and looked at + her curiously. This Nell Montgomery, this music-hall “dance and song + girl,” this girl of whom so much had been SAID and so little PROVED! Well, + this was becoming interesting. + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand,” she said, with nervous feverishness; “you remember + after that row I had with Jim, that night the manager gave us a supper,—when + he treated me like a dog?” + </p> + <p> + “He did that,” interrupted Jack. + </p> + <p> + “I felt fit for anything,” she said, with a half-hysterical laugh, that + seemed voiced, however, to check some slumbering memory. “I'd have cut my + throat or his, it didn't matter which”— + </p> + <p> + “It mattered something to us, Nell,” put in Jack again, with polite + parenthesis; “don't leave US out in the cold.” + </p> + <p> + “I started from 'Frisco that night on the boat ready to fling myself into + anything—or the river!” she went on hurriedly. “There was a man in + the cabin who noticed me, and began to hang around. I thought he knew who + I was,—had seen me on the posters; and as I didn't feel like + foolin', I told him so. But he wasn't that kind. He said he saw I was in + trouble and wanted me to tell him all.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin regarded her cheerfully. “And you told him,” he said, “how you + had once run away from your childhood's happy home to go on the stage! How + you always regretted it, and would have gone back but that the doors were + shut forever against you! How you longed to leave, but the wicked men and + women around you always”— + </p> + <p> + “I didn't!” she burst out, with sudden passion; “you know I didn't. I told + him everything: who I was, what I had done, what I expected to do again. I + pointed out the men—who were sitting there, whispering and grinning + at us, as if they were in the front row of the theatre—and said I + knew them all, and they knew me. I never spared myself a thing. I said + what people said of me, and didn't even care to say it wasn't true!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come!” protested Jack, in perfunctory politeness. + </p> + <p> + “He said he liked me for telling the truth, and not being ashamed to do + it! He said the sin was in the false shame and the hypocrisy; for that's + the sort of man he is, you see, and that's like him always! He asked if I + would marry him—out of hand—and do my best to be his lawful + wife. He said he wanted me to think it over and sleep on it, and to-morrow + he would come and see me for an answer. I slipped off the boat at 'Frisco, + and went alone to a hotel where I wasn't known. In the morning I didn't + know whether he'd keep his word or I'd keep mine. But he came! He said + he'd marry me that very day, and take me to his farm in Santa Clara. I + agreed. I thought it would take me out of everybody's knowledge, and + they'd think me dead! We were married that day, before a regular + clergyman. I was married under my own name,”—she stopped and looked + at Jack, with a hysterical laugh,—“but he made me write underneath + it, 'known as Nell Montgomery;' for he said HE wasn't ashamed of it, nor + should I be.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he wear long hair and stick straws in it?” said Hamlin gravely. + “Does he 'hear voices' and have 'visions'?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a shrewd, sensible, hard-working man,—no more mad than you + are, nor as mad as I was the day I married him. He's lived up to + everything he's said.” She stopped, hesitated in her quick, nervous + speech; her lip quivered slightly, but she recalled herself, and looking + imploringly, yet hopelessly, at Jack, gasped, “And that's what's the + matter!” + </p> + <p> + Jack fixed his eyes keenly upon her. “And you?” he said curtly. + </p> + <p> + “I?” she repeated wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, what have YOU done?” he said, with sudden sharpness. + </p> + <p> + The wonder was so apparent in her eyes that his keen glance softened. + “Why,” she said bewilderingly, “I have been his dog, his slave,—as + far as he would let me. I have done everything; I have not been out of the + house until he almost drove me out. I have never wanted to go anywhere or + see any one; but he has always insisted upon it. I would have been willing + to slave here, day and night, and have been happy. But he said I must not + seem to be ashamed of my past, when he is not. I would have worn common + homespun clothes and calico frocks, and been glad of it, but he insists + upon my wearing my best things, even my theatre things; and as he can't + afford to buy more, I wear these things I had. I know they look beastly + here, and that I'm a laughing-stock, and when I go out I wear almost + anything to try and hide them; but,” her lip quivered dangerously again, + “he wants me to do it, and it pleases him.” + </p> + <p> + Jack looked down. After a pause he lifted his lashes towards her draggled + skirt, and said in an easier, conversational tone, “Yes! I thought I knew + that dress. I gave it to you for that walking scene in 'High Life,' didn't + I?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said quickly, “it was the blue one with silver trimming,—don't + you remember? I tried to turn it the first year I was married, but it + never looked the same.” + </p> + <p> + “It was sweetly pretty,” said Jack encouragingly, “and with that blue hat + lined with silver, it was just fetching! Somehow I don't quite remember + this one,” and he looked at it critically. + </p> + <p> + “I had it at the races in '58, and that supper Judge Boompointer gave us + at 'Frisco where Colonel Fish upset the table trying to get at Jim. Do you + know,” she said, with a little laugh, “it's got the stains of the + champagne on it yet; it never would come off. See!” and she held the + candle with great animation to the breadth of silk before her. + </p> + <p> + “And there's more of it on the sleeve,” said Jack; “isn't there?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rylands looked reproachfully at Jack. + </p> + <p> + “That isn't champagne; don't you know what it is?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “It's blood,” she said gravely; “when that Mexican cut poor Ned so bad,—don't + you remember? I held his head upon my arm while you bandaged him.” She + heaved a little sigh, and then added, with a faint laugh, “That's the + worst thing about the clothes of a girl in the profession, they get + spoiled or stained before they wear out.” + </p> + <p> + This large truth did not seem to impress Mr. Hamlin. “Why did you leave + Santa Clara?” he said abruptly, in his previous critical tone. + </p> + <p> + “Because of the folks there. They were standoffish and ugly. You see, + Josh”— + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Josh Rylands!—HIM! He told everybody who I was, even those who had + never seen me in the bills,—how good I was to marry him, how he had + faith in me and wasn't ashamed,—until they didn't believe we were + married at all. So they looked another way when they met us, and didn't + call. And all the while I was glad they didn't, but he wouldn't believe + it, and allowed I was pining on account of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And were you?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to God, Jack, I'd have been content, and more, to have been just + there with him, seein' nobody, letting every one believe I was dead and + gone, but he said it was wrong, and weak! Maybe it was,” she added, with a + shy, interrogating look at Jack, of which, however, he took no notice. + “Then when he found they wouldn't call, what do you think he did?” + </p> + <p> + “Beat you, perhaps,” suggested Jack cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “He never did a thing to me that wasn't straight out, square, and kind,” + she said, half indignantly, half hopelessly. “He thought if HIS kind of + people wouldn't see me, I might like to see my own sort. So without saying + anything to me, he brought down, of all things! Tinkie Clifford, she that + used to dance in the cheap variety shows at 'Frisco, and her particular + friend, Captain Sykes. It would have just killed you, Jack,” she said, + with a sudden hysteric burst of laughter, “to have seen Josh, in his + square, straight-out way, trying to be civil and help things along. But,” + she went on, as suddenly relapsing into her former attitude of worried + appeal, “I couldn't stand it, and when she got to talking free and easy + before Josh, and Captain Sykes to guzzling champagne, she and me had a + row. She allowed I was putting on airs, and I made her walk, in spite of + Josh.” + </p> + <p> + “And Josh seemed to like it,” said Hamlin carelessly. “Has he seen her + since?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I reckon he's cured of asking that kind of company for me. And then + we came here. But I persuaded him not to begin by going round telling + people who I was,—as he did the last time,—but to leave it to + folks to find out if they wanted to, and he gave in. Then he let me fix up + this house and furnish it my own way, and I did!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that YOU fixed up that family vault of a + sitting-room?” said Jack, in horror. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I didn't want any fancy furniture or looking-glasses, and such like, + to attract folks, nor anything to look like the old times. I don't think + any of the boys would care to come here. And I got rid of a lot of + sporting travelers, 'wild-cat' managers, and that kind of tramp in this + way. But”—She hesitated, and her face fell again. + </p> + <p> + “But what?” said Jack. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think that Josh likes it either. He brought home the other day + 'My Johnny is a Shoemakiyure,' and wanted me to try it on the organ. But + it reminded me how we used to get just sick of singing it on and off the + boards, and I couldn't touch it. He wanted me to go to the circus that was + touring over at the cross roads, but it was the old Flanigin's circus, you + know, the one Gussie Riggs used to ride in, with its old clown and its old + ringmaster and the old 'wheezes,' and I chucked it.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” said Jack, rising and surveying Mrs. Rylands critically. “If + you go on at this gait, I'll tell you what that man of yours will do. + He'll bolt with some of your old friends!” + </p> + <p> + She turned a quick, scared face upon him for an instant. But only for an + instant. Her hysteric little laugh returned, at once, followed by her + weary, worried look. “No, Jack, you don't know him! If it was only that! + He cares only for me in his own way,—and,” she stammered as she went + on, “I've no luck in making him happy.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped. The wind shook the house and fired a volley of rain against + the windows. She took advantage of it to draw a torn lace-edged + handkerchief from her pocket behind, and keeping the tail of her eyes in a + frightened fashion on Jack, applied the handkerchief furtively, first to + her nose, and then to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Don't do that,” said Jack fastidiously, “it's wet enough outside.” + Nevertheless, he stood up and gazed at her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he began. + </p> + <p> + She timidly drew nearer to him, and took a seat on the kitchen table, + looking up wistfully into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” resumed Jack argumentatively, “if he won't 'chuck' you, why don't + you 'chuck' HIM?” + </p> + <p> + She turned quite white, and suddenly dropped her eyes. “Yes,” she said, + almost inaudibly, “lots of girls would do that.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean go back to your old life,” continued Jack. “I reckon you've + had enough of that. But get into some business, you know, like other + women. A bonnet shop, or a candy shop for children, see? I'll help start + you. I've got a couple of hundred, if not in my own pocket in somebody's + else, just burning to be used! And then you can look about you; and + perhaps some square business man will turn up and you can marry him. You + know you can't live this way, nohow. It's killing you; it ain't fair on + you, nor on Rylands either.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said quickly, “it ain't fair on HIM. I know it, I know it isn't, + I know it isn't,” she repeated, “only”—She stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Only what?” said Jack impatiently. + </p> + <p> + She did not speak. After a pause she picked up the rolling-pin from the + table and began absently rolling it down her lap to her knee, as if + pressing out the stained silk skirt. “Only,” she stammered, slowly rolling + the pin handles in her open palms, “I—I can't leave Josh.” + </p> + <p> + “Why can't you?” said Jack quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Because—because—I,” she went on, with a quivering lip, + working the rolling-pin heavily down her knee as if she were crushing her + answer out of it,—“because—I—love him!” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, a dash of rain against the window, and another dash + from her eyes upon her hands, the rolling-pin, and the skirts she had + gathered up hastily, as she cried, “O Jack! Jack! I never loved anybody + like him! I never knew what love was! I never knew a man like him before! + There never WAS one before!” + </p> + <p> + To this large, comprehensive, and passionate statement Mr. Jack Hamlin + made no reply. An audacity so supreme had conquered his. He walked to the + window, looked out upon the dark, rain-filmed pane that, however, + reflected no equal change in his own dark eyes, and then returned and + walked round the kitchen table. When he was at her back, without looking + at her, he reached out his hand, took her passive one that lay on the + table in his, grasped it heartily for a single moment, laid it gently + down, and returned around the table, where he again confronted her + cheerfully face to face. + </p> + <p> + “You'll make the riffle yet,” he said quietly. “Just now I don't see what + I could do, or where I could chip in your little game; but if I DO, or you + do, count me in and let me know. You know where to write,—my old + address at Sacramento.” He walked to the corner, took up his still wet + serape, threw it over his shoulders, and picked up his broad-brimmed + riding-hat. + </p> + <p> + “You're not going, Jack?” she said hesitatingly, as she rubbed her wet + eyes into a consciousness of his movements. “You'll wait to see HIM? He'll + be here in an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I've been here too long already,” said Jack. “And the less you say about + my calling, even accidentally, the better. Nobody will believe it,—YOU + didn't yourself. In fact, unless you see how I can help you, the sooner + you consider us all dead and buried, the sooner your luck will change. + Tell your girl I've found my own horse so much better that I have pushed + on with him, and give her that.” + </p> + <p> + He threw a gold coin on the table. + </p> + <p> + “But your horse is still lame,” she said wonderingly. “What will you do in + this storm?” + </p> + <p> + “Get into the cover of the next wood and camp out. I've done it before.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Jack!” + </p> + <p> + He suddenly made a slight gesture of warning. His quick ear had caught the + approach of footsteps along the wet gravel outside. A mischievous light + slid into his dark eyes as he coolly moved backward to the door and, + holding it open, said, in a remarkably clear and distinct voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, as you say, society is becoming very mixed and frivolous everywhere, + and you'd scarcely know San Francisco now. So delighted, however, to have + made your acquaintance, and regret my business prevents my waiting to see + your good husband. So odd that I should have known your Aunt Jemima! But, + as you say, the world is very small, after all. I shall tell the deacon + how well you are looking,—in spite of the kitchen smoke in your + eyes. Good-by! A thousand thanks for your hospitality.” + </p> + <p> + And Jack, bowing profoundly to the ground, backed out upon Jane, the hired + man, and the expressman, treading, I grieve to say, with some deliberation + upon the toes of the two latter, in order, possibly, that in their + momentary pain and discomposure they might not scan too closely the face + of this ingenious gentleman, as he melted into the night and the storm. + </p> + <p> + Jane entered, with a slight toss of her head. + </p> + <p> + “Here's your expressman,—ef you're wantin' him NOW.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rylands was too preoccupied to notice her handmaiden's significant + emphasis, as she indicated a fresh-looking, bashful young fellow, whose + confusion was evidently heightened by the unexpected egress of Mr. Hamlin, + and the point-blank presence of the handsome Mrs. Rylands. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly,” said Mrs. Rylands quickly. “So kind of him to oblige us. + Give him the order, Jane, please.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to escape from the kitchen and these new intruders, when her + eye fell upon the coin left by Mr. Hamlin. “The gentleman wished you to + take that for your trouble, Jane,” she said hastily, pointing to it, and + passed out. + </p> + <p> + Jane cast a withering look after her retreating skirts, and picking the + coin from the table, turned to the hired man. “Run to the stable after + that dandified young feller, Dick, and hand that back to him. Ye kin say + that Jane Mackinnon don't run arrants fur money, nor play gooseberry to + other folks fur fun.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Joshua Rylands had, according to the vocabulary of his class, “found + grace” at the age of sixteen, while still in the spiritual state of + “original sin” and the political one of Missouri. He had not indeed found + it by persistent youthful seeking or spiritual insight, but somewhat + violently and turbulently at a camp-meeting. A village boy, naturally + gentle and impressible, with an original character,—limited, + however, in education and experience,—he had, after his first rustic + debauch with some vulgar companions, fallen upon the camp-meeting in + reckless audacity; and instead of being handed over to the district + constable, was taken in and placed upon “the anxious bench,” “rastled + with,” and exhorted by a strong revivalist preacher, “convicted of sin,” + and—converted! It is doubtful if the shame of a public arrest and + legal punishment would have impressed his youthful spirit as much as did + this spiritual examination and trial, in which he himself became accuser. + Howbeit, its effect, though punitive, was also exemplary. He at once cast + off his evil companions; remaining faithful to his conversion, in spite of + their later “backslidings.” When, after the Western fashion, the time came + for him to forsake his father's farm and seek a new “quarter section” on + some more remote frontier, he carried into that secluded, lonely, + half-monkish celibacy of pioneer life—which has been the foundation + of so much strong Western character—more than the usual religious + feeling. At once industrious and adventurous, he lived by “the Word,” as + he called it, and Nature as he knew it,—tempted by none of the vices + or sentiments of civilization. When he finally joined the Californian + emigration, it was not as a gold-seeker, but as a discoverer of new + agricultural fields; if the hardship was as great and the rewards fewer, + he nevertheless knew that he retained his safer isolation and independence + of spirit. Vice and civilization were to him synonymous terms; it was the + natural condition of the worldly and unregenerate. Such was the man who + chanced to meet “Nell Montgomery, the Pearl of the Variety Stage,” on the + Sacramento boat, in one of his forced visits to civilization. Without + knowing her in her profession, her frank exposition of herself did not + startle him; he recognized it, accepted it, and strove to convert it. And + as long as this daughter of Folly forsook her evil ways for him, it was a + triumph in which there was no shame, and might be proclaimed from the + housetop. When his neighbors thought differently, and avoided them, he saw + no inconsistency in bringing his wife's old friends to divert her: she + might in time convert THEM. He had no more fear of her returning to their + ways than he had of himself “backsliding.” Narrow as was his creed, he had + none of the harshness nor pessimism of the bigot. With the keenest + self-scrutiny, his credulity regarding others was touching. + </p> + <p> + The storm was still raging when he alighted that evening from the up coach + at the trail nearest his house. Although incumbered with a heavy + carpet-bag, he started resignedly on his two-mile tramp without begrudging + the neighborly act of his wife which had deprived him of his horse. It was + “like her” to do these things in her good-humored abstraction, an + abstraction, however, that sometimes worried him, from the fear that it + indicated some unhappiness with her present lot. He was longing to rejoin + her after his absence of three days, the longest time they had been + separated since their marriage, and he hurried on with a certain + lover-like excitement, quite new to his usually calm and temperate blood. + </p> + <p> + Struggling with the storm and darkness, but always with the happy + consciousness of drawing nearer to her in that struggle, he labored on, + finding his perilous way over the indistinguishable trail by certain + landmarks in the distance, visible only to his pioneer eye. That heavier + shadow to the right was not the hillside, but the SLOPE to the distant + hill; that low, regular line immediately before him was not a fence or + wall, but the line of distant gigantic woods, a mile from his home. Yet as + he began to descend the slope towards the wood, he stopped and rubbed his + eyes. There was distinctly a light in it. His first idea was that he had + lost the trail and was nearing the woodman Mackinnon's cabin. But a more + careful scrutiny revealed to him that it was really the wood, and the + light was a camp-fire. It was a rough night for camping out, but they were + probably some belated prospectors. + </p> + <p> + When he had reached the fringe of woodland, he could see quite plainly + that the fire was built beside one of the large pines, and that the little + encampment, which looked quite comfortable and secluded from the + storm-beaten trail, was occupied apparently by a single figure. By the + good glow of the leaping fire, that figure standing erect before it, + elegantly shaped, in the graceful folds of a serape, looked singularly + romantic and picturesque, and reminded Joshua Rylands—whose ideas of + art were purely reminiscent of boyish reading—of some picture in a + novel. The heavy black columns of the pines, glancing out of the concave + shadow, also seemed a fitting background to what might have been a scene + in a play. So strongly was he impressed by it that but for his anxiety to + reach his home, still a mile distant, and the fact that he was already + late, he would have penetrated the wood and the seclusion of the stranger + with an offer of hospitality for the night. The man, however, was + evidently capable of taking care of himself, and the outline of a tethered + horse was faintly visible under another tree. It might be a surveyor or + engineer,—the only men of a better class who were itinerant. + </p> + <p> + But another and even greater surprise greeted him as he toiled up the + rocky slope towards his farmhouse. The windows of the sitting-room, which + were usually blank and black by night, were glittering with unfamiliar + light. Like most farmers, he seldom used the room except for formal + company, his wife usually avoiding it, and even he himself now preferred + the dining-room or the kitchen. His first suggestion that his wife had + visitors gave him a sense of pleasure on her account, mingled, however, + with a slight uneasiness of his own which he could not account for. More + than that, as he approached nearer he could hear the swell of the organ + above the roar of the swaying pines, and the cadences were not of a + devotional character. He hesitated for a moment, as he had hesitated at + the fire in the woods; yet it was surely his own house! He hurried to the + door, opened it; not only the light of the sitting-room streamed into the + hall, but the ruddier glow of an actual fire in the disused grate! The + familiar dark furniture had been rearranged to catch some of the glow and + relieve its sombreness. And his wife, rising from the music-stool, was the + room's only occupant! + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rylands gazed anxiously and timidly at her husband's astonished face, + as he threw off his waterproof and laid down his carpet-bag. Her own face + was a little flurried with excitement, and his, half hidden in his tawny + beard, and, possibly owing to his self-introspective nature, never + spontaneously sympathetic, still expressed only wonder! Mrs. Rylands was a + little frightened. It is sometimes dangerous to meddle with a man's + habits, even when he has grown weary of them. + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” she began hesitatingly, “that it would be more cheerful for + you in here, this stormy evening. I thought you might like to put your wet + things to dry in the kitchen, and we could sit here together, after + supper, alone.” + </p> + <p> + I am afraid that Mrs. Rylands did not offer all her thoughts. Ever since + Mr. Hamlin's departure she had been uneasy and excited, sometimes falling + into fits of dejection, and again lighting up into hysterical levity; at + other times carefully examining her wardrobe, and then with a sudden + impulse rushing downstairs again to give orders for her husband's supper, + and to make the extraordinary changes in the sitting-room already noted. + Only a few moments before he arrived, she had covertly brought down a + piece of music, and put aside the hymn-books, and taken, with a little + laugh, a pack of cards from her pocket, which she placed behind the + already dismantled vase on the chimney. + </p> + <p> + “I reckoned you had company, Ellen,” he said gravely, kissing her. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said quickly. “That is,” she stopped with a sudden surge of + color in her face that startled her, “there was—a man—here, in + the kitchen—who had a lame horse, and who wanted to get a fresh one. + But he went away an hour ago. And he wasn't in this room—at least, + after it was fixed up. So I've had no company.” + </p> + <p> + She felt herself again blushing at having blushed, and a little terrified. + There was no reason for it. But for Jack's warning, she would have been + quite ready to tell her husband all. She had never blushed before him over + her past life; why she should now blush over seeing Jack, of all people! + made her utter a little hysterical laugh. I am afraid that this + experienced little woman took it for granted that her husband knew that if + Jack or any man had been there as a clandestine lover, she would not have + blushed at all. Yet with all her experience, she did not know that she had + blushed simply because it was to Jack that she had confessed that she + loved the man before her. Her husband noted the blush as part of her + general excitement. He permitted her to drag him into the room and seat + him before the hearth, where she sank down on one knee to pull off his + heavy rubber boots. But he waved her aside at this, pulled them off with + his own hands, and let her take them to the kitchen and bring back his + slippers. By this time a smile had lighted up his hard face. The room was + certainly more comfortable and cheerful. Still he was a little worried; + was there not in these changes a falling away from the grace of + self-abnegation which she had so sedulously practiced? + </p> + <p> + When supper was served by Jane, in the dull dining-room, Mr. Rylands, had + he not been more engaged in these late domestic changes, might have + noticed that the Missouri girl waited upon him with a certain + commiserating air that was remarkable by its contrast with the frigid + ceremonious politeness with which she attended her mistress. It had not + escaped Mrs. Rylands, however, who ever since Jack's abrupt departure had + noticed this change in the girl's demeanor to herself, and with a woman's + intuitive insight of another woman, had fathomed it. The comfortable + tete-a-tete with Jack, which Jane had looked forward to, Mrs. Rylands had + anticipated herself, and then sent him off! When Joshua thanked his wife + for remembering the pepper-sauce, and Mrs. Rylands pathetically admitted + her forgetfulness, the head-toss which Jane gave as she left the room was + too marked to be overlooked by him. Mrs. Rylands gave a hysterical little + laugh. “I am afraid Jane doesn't like my sending away the expressman just + after I had also dismissed the stranger whom she had taken a fancy to, and + left her without company,” she said unwisely. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands did not laugh. “I reckon,” he returned slowly, “that Jane must + feel kinder lonely; she bears all the burden of our bein' outer the world, + without any of our glory in the cause of it.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when supper was over, and the pair were seated in the + sitting-room before the fire, this episode was forgotten. Mrs. Rylands + produced her husband's pipe and tobacco-pouch. He looked around the formal + walls and hesitated. He had been in the habit of smoking in the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Why not here?” said Mrs. Rylands, with a sudden little note of decision. + “Why should we keep this room only for company that don't come? I call it + silly.” + </p> + <p> + This struck Mr. Rylands as logical. Besides, undoubtedly the fire had + mellowed the room. After a puff or two he looked at his wife musingly. + “Couldn't you make yourself one of them cigarettys, as they call 'em? + Here's the tobacco, and I'll get you the paper.” + </p> + <p> + “I COULD,” she said tentatively. Then suddenly, “What made you think of + it? You never saw ME smoke!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Rylands, “but that lady, your old friend, Miss Clifford, does, + and I thought you might be hankering after it.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know Tinkie Clifford smokes?” said Mrs. Rylands quickly. + </p> + <p> + “She lit a cigaretty that day she called.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate it,” said Mrs. Rylands shortly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands nodded approval, and puffed meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Josh, have you seen that girl since?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Joshua. + </p> + <p> + “Nor any other girl like her?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Joshua wonderingly. “You see I only got to know her on your + account, Ellen, that she might see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don't you do it any more! None of 'em! Promise me!” She leaned + forward eagerly in her chair. + </p> + <p> + “But Ellen,”—her husband began gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you're going to say, but they can't do me any good, and you + can't do them any good as you did ME, so there!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands was silent, and smiled meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Josh!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “When you met me that night on the Sacramento boat, and looked at me, did + you—did I,” she hesitated,—“did you look at me because I had + been crying?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were troubled in spirit, and looked so.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I looked worried, of course; I had no time to change or even + fix my hair; I had on that green dress, and it NEVER was becoming. And you + only spoke to me on account of my awful looks?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw only your wrestling soul, Ellen, and I thought you needed comfort + and help.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment, and then, leaning forward, picked up the + poker and began to thrust it absently between the bars. + </p> + <p> + “And if it had been some other girl crying and looking awful, you'd have + spoken to her all the same?” + </p> + <p> + This was a new idea to Mr. Rylands, but with most men logic is supreme. “I + suppose I would,” he said slowly. + </p> + <p> + “And married her?” She rattled the bars of the grate with the poker as if + to drown the inevitable reply. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands loved the woman before him, but it pleased him to think that + he loved truth better. “If it had been necessary to her salvation, yes,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “Not Tinkie?” she said suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “SHE never would have been in your contrite condition.” + </p> + <p> + “Much you know! Girls like that can cry as well as laugh, just as they + want to. Well! I suppose I DID look horrid.” Nevertheless, she seemed to + gain some gratification from her husband's reply, and changed the subject + as if fearful of losing that satisfaction by further questioning. + </p> + <p> + “I tried some of those songs you brought, but I don't think they go well + with the harmonium,” she said, pointing to some music on its rack, “except + one. Just listen.” She rose, and with the same nervous quickness she had + shown before, went to the instrument and began to sing and play. There was + a hopeless incongruity between the character of the instrument and the + spirit of the song. Mrs. Rylands's voice was rather forced and crudely + trained, but Joshua Rylands, sitting there comfortably slippered by the + fire and conscious of the sheeted rain against the window, felt it good. + Presently he arose, and lounging heavily over to the fair performer, + leaned down and imprinted a kiss on the labyrinthine fringes of her hair. + At which Mrs. Rylands caught blindly at his hand nearest her, and without + lifting her other hand from the keys, or her eyes from the music, said + tentatively:— + </p> + <p> + “You know there's a chorus just here! Why can't you try it with me?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands hesitated a moment, then, with a preliminary cough, lifted a + voice as crude as hers, but powerful through much camp-meeting exercise, + and roared a chorus which was remarkable chiefly for requiring that + archness and playfulness in execution which he lacked. As the whole house + seemed to dilate with the sound, and the wind outside to withhold its + fury, Mr. Rylands felt that physical delight which children feel in + personal outcry, and was grateful to his wife for the opportunity. Laying + his hand affectionately on her shoulder, he noticed for the first time + that she was in a kind of evening-dress, and that her delicate white + shoulder shone through the black lace that enveloped it. + </p> + <p> + For an instant Mr. Rylands was shocked at this unwonted exposure. He had + never seen his wife in evening-dress before. It was true they were alone, + and in their own sitting-room, but the room was still invested with that + formality and publicity which seemed to accent this indiscretion. The + simple-minded frontier man's mind went back to Jane, to the hired man, to + the expressman, the stranger, all of whom might have noticed it also. + </p> + <p> + “You have a new dress,” he said slowly, “have you worn it all day?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, with a timid smile. “I only put it on just before you + came. It's the one I used to wear in the ballroom scene in 'Gay Times in + 'Frisco.' You don't know it, I know. I thought I would wear it tonight, + and then,” she suddenly grasped his hand, “you'll let me put all these + things away forever! Won't you, Josh? I've seen such nice pretty calico at + the store to-day, and I can make up one or two home dresses, like Jane's, + only better fitting, of course. In fact, I asked them to send the roll up + here to-morrow for you to see.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands felt relieved. Perhaps his views had changed about the moral + effect of her retaining these symbols of her past, for he consented to the + calico dresses, not, however, without an inward suspicion that she would + not look so well in them, and that the one she had on was more becoming. + </p> + <p> + Meantime she tried another piece of music. It was equally incongruous and + slightly Bacchantic. + </p> + <p> + “There used to be a mighty pretty dance went to that,” she said, nodding + her head in time with the music, and assisting the heavily spasmodic + attempts of the instrument with the pleasant levity of her voice. “I used + to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye might try it now, Ellen,” suggested her husband, with a + half-frightened, half-amused tolerance. + </p> + <p> + “YOU play, then,” said Mrs. Rylands quickly, offering her seat to him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands sat down to the harmonium, as Mrs. Rylands briskly moved the + table and chairs against the wall. Mr. Rylands played slowly and + strenuously, as from a conscientious regard of the instrument. Mrs. + Rylands stood in the centre of the floor, making a rather pretty, animated + picture, as she again stimulated the heavy harmonium swell not only with + her voice but her hands and feet. Presently she began to skip. + </p> + <p> + I should warn the reader here that this was before the “shawl” or “skirt” + dancing was in vogue, and I am afraid that pretty Mrs. Rylands's + performances would now be voted slow. Her silk skirt and frilled petticoat + were lifted just over her small ankles and tiny bronze-kid shoes. In the + course of a pirouette or two, there was a slight further revelation of + blue silk stockings and some delicate embroidery, but really nothing more + than may be seen in the sweep of a modern waltz. Suddenly the music + ceased. Mr. Rylands had left the harmonium and walked over to the hearth. + Mrs. Rylands stopped, and came towards him with a flushed, anxious face. + </p> + <p> + “It don't seem to go right, does it?” she said, with her nervous laugh. “I + suppose I'm getting too old now, and I don't quite remember it.” + </p> + <p> + “Better forget it altogether,” he replied gravely. He stopped at seeing a + singular change in her face, and added awkwardly, “When I told you I + didn't want you to be ashamed of your past, nor to try to forget what you + were, I didn't mean such things as that!” + </p> + <p> + “What did you mean?” she said timidly. + </p> + <p> + The truth was that Mr. Rylands did not know. He had known this sort of + thing only in the abstract. He had never had the least acquaintance with + the class to which his wife had belonged, nor known anything of their + methods. It was a revelation to him now, in the woman he loved, and who + was his wife. He was not shocked so much as he was frightened. + </p> + <p> + “You shall have the dress to-morrow, Ellen,” he said gently, “and you can + put away these gewgaws. You don't need to look like Tinkie Clifford.” + </p> + <p> + He did not see the look of triumph that lit up her eye, but added, “Go on + and play.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down obediently to the instrument. He watched her for a few + moments from the toe of her kid slipper on the pedals to the swell of her + shoulders above the keyboard, with a strange, abstracted face. Presently + she stopped and came over to him. + </p> + <p> + “And when I've got these nice calico frocks, and you can't tell me from + Jane, and I'm a good housekeeper, and settle down to be a farmer's wife, + maybe I'll have a secret to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “A secret?” he repeated gravely. “Why not now?” + </p> + <p> + Her face was quite aglow with excitement and a certain timid mischief as + she laughed: “Not while you are so solemn. It can wait.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at his watch. “I must give some orders to Jim about the stock + before he turns in,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “He's gone to the stables already,” said Mrs. Rylands. + </p> + <p> + “No matter; I can go there and find him.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I bring your boots?” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I'll put them on when I pass through the kitchen. I won't be long away. + Now go to bed. You are looking tired,” he said gently, as he gazed at the + drawn lines about her eyes and mouth. Her former pretty color struck him + also as having changed of late, and as being irregular and inharmonious. + </p> + <p> + As Mrs. Rylands obediently ascended the stairs she heaved a faint sigh, + her only recognition of her husband's criticism. He turned and passed + quickly into the kitchen. He wanted to be alone to collect his thoughts. + But he was surprised to find Jane still there, sitting bolt upright in a + chair in the corner. Apparently she had been expecting him, for as he + entered she stood up, and wiped her cheek and mouth with one hand, as if + to compress her lips the more tightly. + </p> + <p> + “I reckoned,” she began, “that unless you war for forgettin' everythin' in + these yer goings on, ye'd be passin' through here to tend to your stock. + I've got a word to say to ye, Mr. Rylands. When I first kem over here to + help, I got word from the folks around that your wife afore you married + her was just one o' them bally dancers. Well, that was YOUR lookout, not + mine! Jane Mackinnon ain't the kind to take everybody's sayin' as gospil, + but she kalkilates to treat folks ez she finds 'em. When she finds 'em + lyin' and deceivin'; when she finds em purtendin' one thing and doin' + another; when she finds 'em makin' fools tumble to 'em; playing soots on + their own husbands, and turnin' an honest house into a music-hall and a + fandango shop, she kicks! You hear me! Jane Mackinnon kicks!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” said Mr. Rylands sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” said Miss Mackinnon, striking her hips with the back of her + hands smartly, and accenting each word that dropped like a bullet from her + mouth with an additional blow,—“I—mean—that—your—wife—had + one—of—her—old—hangers-on—from—'Frisco—here—in—this + very—kitchen—all—the—arternoon; there! I mean that + whiles she was waitin' here for you, she was canoodlin' and cryin' over + old times with him! I saw her myself through the winder. That's what I + mean, Mr. Joshua Rylands.” + </p> + <p> + “It's false! She had some poor stranger here with a lame horse. She told + me so herself.” + </p> + <p> + Jane Mackinnon laughed shrilly. + </p> + <p> + “Did she tell you that the poor stranger was young and pretty-faced, with + black moustarches? that his store clothes must have cost a fortin, saying + nothing of his gold-lined, broadcloth sarrapper? Did she say that his + horse was so lame that when I went to get another he wouldn't WAIT for it? + Did she tell you WHO he was?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she did not know,” said Rylands sternly, but with a whitening face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you! The gambler, the shooter!—the man whose name + is black enough to stain any woman he knows. Jim recognized him like a + shot; he sez, the moment he clapped eyes on him at the door, 'Dod blasted, + if it ain't Jack Hamlin!'” + </p> + <p> + Little as Mr. Rylands knew of the world, he had heard that name. But it + was not THAT he was thinking of. He was thinking of the camp-fire in the + wood, the handsome figure before it, the tethered horse. He was thinking + of the lighted sitting-room, the fire, his wife's bare shoulders, her + slippers, stockings, and the dance. He saw it all,—a lightning-flash + to his dull imagination. The room seemed to expand and then grow smaller, + the figure of Jane to sway backwards and forwards before him. He murmured + the name of God with lips that were voiceless, caught at the kitchen table + to steady himself, held it till he felt his arms grow rigid, and then + recovered himself,—white, cold, and sane. + </p> + <p> + “Speak a word of this to HER,” he said deliberately, “enter her room while + I'm gone, even leave the kitchen before I come back, and I'll throw you + into the road. Tell that hired man, if he dares to breathe it to a soul + I'll strangle him.” + </p> + <p> + The unlooked-for rage of this quiet, God-fearing man, and dupe, as she + believed, was terrible, but convincing. She shrank back into the corner as + he coolly drew on his boots and waterproof, and without another word left + the house. + </p> + <p> + He knew what he was going to do as well as if it had been ordained for + him. He knew he would find the young man in the wood; for whatever were + the truth of the other stories, he and the visitor were identical; he had + seen him with his own eyes. He would confront him face to face and know + all; and until then, he could not see his wife again. He walked on + rapidly, but without feverishness or mental confusion. He saw his duty + plainly,—if Ellen had “backslidden,” he must give her another trial. + These were his articles of faith. He should not put her away; but she + should nevermore be wife to him. It was HE who had tempted her, it was + true; perhaps God would forgive her for that reason, but HE could never + love her again. + </p> + <p> + The fury of the storm had somewhat abated as he reached the wood. The fire + was still there, but no longer a leaping flame. A dull glow in the + darkness of the forest aisles was all that indicated its position. Rylands + at once plunged in that direction; he was near enough to see the red + embers when he heard a sharp click, and a voice called:— + </p> + <p> + “Hold up!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin was a light sleeper. The crackle of underbrush had been enough + to disturb him. The voice was his; the click was the cocking of his + revolver. + </p> + <p> + Rylands was no coward, but halted diplomatically. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” said Mr. Hamlin's voice, “a little more this way, IN THE + LIGHT, if you please!” + </p> + <p> + Rylands moved as directed, and saw Mr. Hamlin lying before the fire, + resting easily on one hand, with his revolver in the other. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you!” said Jack. “Excuse my precautions, but it is night, and this + is, for the present, my bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Rylands; you called at my house this afternoon and saw my + wife,” said Rylands slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” said Hamlin. “It was mighty kind of you to return my call so + soon, but I didn't expect it.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon not. But I know who you are, and that you are an old associate + of hers, in the days of her sin and unregeneration. I want you to answer + me, before God and man, what was your purpose in coming there to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Look here! I don't think it's necessary to drag in strangers to hear my + answer,” said Jack, lying down again, “but I came to borrow a horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the truth?” + </p> + <p> + Jack got upon his feet very solemnly, put on his hat, drew down his + waistcoat, and approached Mr. Rylands with his hands in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Rylands,” he said, with great suavity of manner, “this is the second + time today that I have had the honor of having my word doubted by your + family. Your wife was good enough to question my assertion that I didn't + know that she was living here, but that was a woman's vanity. You have no + such excuse. There is my horse yonder, lame, as you may see. I didn't lame + him for the sake of seeing your wife nor you.” + </p> + <p> + There was that in Mr. Hamlin's audacity and perfect self-possession which, + even while it irritated, never suggested deceit. He was too reckless of + consequence to lie. Mr. Rylands was staggered and half convinced. + Nevertheless, he hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Dare you tell me everything that happened between my wife and you?” + </p> + <p> + “Dare you listen?” said Mr. Hamlin quietly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands turned a little white. After a moment he said:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said Mr. Hamlin. “I like your grit, though I don't mind telling + you it's the ONLY thing I like about you. Sit down. Well, I haven't seen + Nell Montgomery for three years until I met her as your wife, at your + house. She was surprised as I was, and frightened as I wasn't. She spent + the whole interview in telling me the history of her marriage and her life + with you, and nothing more. I cannot say that it was remarkably + entertaining, or that she was as amusing as your wife as she was as Nell + Montgomery, the variety actress. When she had finished, I came away.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rylands, who had seated himself, made a movement as if to rise. But + Mr. Hamlin laid his hand on his knee. + </p> + <p> + “I asked you if you dared to listen. I have something myself to say of + that interview. I found your wife wearing the old dresses that other men + had given her, and she said she wore them because she thought it pleased + you. I found that you, who are questioning my calling upon her, had + already got the worst of her old chums to visit her without asking her + consent; I found that instead of being the first one to lie for her and + hide her, you were the first one to tell anybody her history, just because + you thought it was to the glory of God generally, and of Joshua Rylands in + particular.” + </p> + <p> + “A man's motives are his own,” stammered Rylands. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry you didn't see it when you questioned mine just now,” said Jack + coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Then she complained to you?” said Rylands hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say that,” said Jack shortly. + </p> + <p> + “But you found her unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + “Damnably.” + </p> + <p> + “And you advised her”—said Rylands tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “I advised her to chuck you and try to get a better husband.” He paused, + and then added, with a disgusted laugh, “but she didn't tumble to it, for + a d——d silly reason.” + </p> + <p> + “What reason?” said Rylands hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “Said she LOVED you,” returned Jack, kicking a brand back into the fire. + Mr. Rylands's white cheeks flamed out suddenly like the brand. Seeing + which, Jack turned upon him deliberately. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Joshua Rylands, I've seen many fools in my time. I've seen men + holding four aces backed down because they thought they KNEW the other man + had a royal flush! I've seen a man sell his claim for a wild-cat share, + with the gold lying a foot below him in the ground he walked on. I've seen + a dead shot shoot wild because he THOUGHT he saw something in the other + man's eye. I've seen a heap of God-forsaken fools, but I never saw one + before who claimed God as a pal. You've got a wife a d——d + sight truer to you for what you call her 'sin,' than you've ever been to + her, with all your d——d salvation! And as you couldn't make + her otherwise, though you've tried to hard enough, it seems to me that for + square downright chuckle-headedness, you can take the cake! Good-night! + Now, run away and play! You're making me tired.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment,” said Mr. Rylands awkwardly and hurriedly. “I may have + wronged you; I was mistaken. Won't you come back with me and accept my—our—hospitality?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” said Jack. “I left your house because I thought it better for + you and her that no one should know of my being there.” + </p> + <p> + “But you were already recognized,” said Mr. Rylands. “It was Jane who lied + about you, and your return with me will confute her slanders.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” asked Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Jane, our hired girl.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin uttered an indescribable laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That's just as well! You simply tell Jane you SAW me; that I was greatly + shocked at what she said, but that I forgive her. I don't think she'll say + any more.” + </p> + <p> + Strange to add, Mr. Hamlin's surmise was correct. Mr. Rylands found Jane + still in the kitchen alone, terrified, remorseful, yet ever after silent + on the subject. Stranger still, the hired man became equally + uncommunicative. Mrs. Rylands, attributing her husband's absence only to + care of the stock, had gone to bed in a feverish condition, and Mr. + Rylands did not deem it prudent to tell her of his interview. The next day + she sent for the doctor, and it was deemed necessary for her to keep her + bed for a few days. Her husband was singularly attentive and considerate + during that time, and it was probable that Mrs. Rylands seized that + opportunity to tell him the secret she spoke of the night before. Whatever + it was,—for it was not generally known for a few months later,—it + seemed to draw them closer together, imparted a protecting dignity to + Joshua Rylands, which took the place of his former selfish austerity, gave + them a future to talk of confidentially, hopefully, and sometimes + foolishly, which took the place of their more foolish past, and when the + roll of calico came from the cross roads, it contained also a quantity of + fine linen, laces, small caps, and other trifles, somewhat in contrast to + the more homely materials ordered. + </p> + <p> + And when three months were past, the sitting-room was often lit up and + made cheerful, particularly on that supreme occasion when, with a great + deal of enthusiasm, all the women of the countryside flocked to see Mrs. + Rylands and her first baby. And a more considerate and devoted couple than + the father and mother they had never known. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAN AT THE SEMAPHORE + </h2> + <p> + In the early days of the Californian immigration, on the extremest point + of the sandy peninsula, where the bay of San Francisco debouches into the + Pacific, there stood a semaphore telegraph. Tossing its black arms against + the sky,—with its back to the Golden Gate and that vast expanse of + sea whose nearest shore was Japan,—it signified to another semaphore + further inland the “rigs” of incoming vessels, by certain uncouth signs, + which were again passed on to Telegraph Hill, San Francisco, where they + reappeared on a third semaphore, and read to the initiated “schooner,” + “brig” “ship,” or “steamer.” But all homesick San Francisco had learned + the last sign, and on certain days of the month every eye was turned to + welcome those gaunt arms widely extended at right angles, which meant + “sidewheel steamer” (the only steamer which carried the mails) and + “letters from home.” In the joyful reception accorded to that herald of + glad tidings, very few thought of the lonely watcher on the sand dunes who + dispatched them, or even knew of that desolate Station. + </p> + <p> + For desolate it was beyond description. The Presidio, with its voiceless, + dismounted cannon and empty embrasures hidden in a hollow, and the Mission + Dolores, with its crumbling walls and belfry tower lost in another, made + the ultima thule of all San Francisco wandering. The Cliff house and Fort + Point did not then exist; from Black Point the curving line of shore of + “Yerba Buena”—or San Francisco—showed only a stretch of + glittering wind-swept sand dunes, interspersed with straggling gullies of + half-buried black “scrub oak.” The long six months' summer sun fiercely + beat upon it from the cloudless sky above; the long six months' trade + winds fiercely beat upon it from the west; the monotonous roll-call of the + long Pacific surges regularly beat upon it from the sea. Almost impossible + to face by day through sliding sands and buffeting winds, at night it was + impracticable through the dense sea-fog that stole softly through the + Golden Gate at sunset. Thence, until morning, sea and shore were a + trackless waste, bounded only by the warning thunders of the unseen sea. + The station itself, a rudely built cabin, with two windows,—one + furnished with a telescope,—looked like a heap of driftwood, or a + stranded wreck left by the retiring sea; the semaphore—the only + object for leagues—lifted above the undulating dunes, took upon + itself various shapes, more or less gloomy, according to the hour or + weather,—a blasted tree, the masts and clinging spars of a beached + ship, a dismantled gallows; or, with the background of a golden sunset + across the Gate, and its arms extended at right angles, to a more hopeful + fancy it might have seemed the missionary Cross, which the enthusiast + Portala lifted on that heathen shore a hundred years before. + </p> + <p> + Not that Dick Jarman—the solitary station keeper—ever indulged + this fancy. An escaped convict from one of her Britannic Majesty's penal + colonies, a “stowaway” in the hold of an Australian ship, he had landed + penniless in San Francisco, fearful of contact with his more honest + countrymen already there, and liable to detection at any moment. Luckily + for him, the English immigration consisted mainly of gold-seekers en route + to Sacramento and the southern mines. He was prudent enough to resist the + temptation to follow them, and accepted the post of semaphore keeper,—the + first work offered him,—which the meanest immigrant, filled with + dreams of gold, would have scorned. His employers asked him no questions, + and demanded no references; his post could be scarcely deemed one of + trust,—there was no property for him to abscond with but the + telescope; he was removed from temptation and evil company in his lonely + waste; his duties were as mechanical as the instrument he worked, and + interruption of them would be instantly known at San Francisco. For this + he would receive his board and lodging and seventy-five dollars a month,—a + sum to be ridiculed in those “flush days,” but which seemed to the + broken-spirited and half-famished stowaway a princely independence. + </p> + <p> + And then there was rest and security! He was free from that torturing + anxiety and fear of detection which had haunted him night and day for + three months. The ceaseless vigilance and watchful dread he had known + since his escape, he could lay aside now. The rude cabin on the sand dune + was to him as the long-sought cave to some hunted animal. It seemed + impossible that any one would seek him there. He was spared alike the + contact of his enemies or the shame of recognizing even a friendly face, + until by each he would be forgotten. From his coign of vantage on that + desolate waste, and with the aid of his telescope, no stranger could + approach within two or three miles of his cabin without undergoing his + scrutiny. And at the worst, if he was pursued here, before him was the + trackless shore and the boundless sea! + </p> + <p> + And at times there was a certain satisfaction in watching, unseen and in + perfect security, the decks of passing ships. With the aid of his glass he + could mingle again with the world from which he was debarred, and gloomily + wonder who among those passengers knew their solitary watcher, or had + heard of his deeds; it might have made him gloomier had he known that in + those eager faces turned towards the golden haven there was little thought + of anything but themselves. He tried to read in faces on board the few + outgoing ships the record of their success with a strange envy. They were + returning home! HOME! For sometimes—but seldom—he thought of + his own home and his past. It was a miserable past of forgery and + embezzlement that had culminated a career of youthful dissipation and + self-indulgence, and shut him out, forever, from the staid old English + cathedral town where he was born. He knew that his relations believed and + wished him dead. He thought of this past with little pleasure, but with + little remorse. Like most of his stamp, he believed it was ill-luck, + chance, somebody else's fault, but never his own responsible action. He + would not repent; he would be wiser only. And he would not be retaken—alive! + </p> + <p> + Two or three months passed in this monotonous duty, in which he partly + recovered his strength and his nerves. He lost his furtive, restless, + watchful look; the bracing sea air and the burning sun put into his face + the healthy tan and the uplifted frankness of a sailor. His eyes grew + keener from long scanning of the horizon; he knew where to look for sails, + from the creeping coastwise schooner to the far-rounding merchantman from + Cape Horn. He knew the faint line of haze that indicated the steamer long + before her masts and funnels became visible. He saw no soul except the + solitary boatman of the little “plunger,” who landed his weekly provisions + at a small cove hard by. The boatman thought his secretiveness and + reticence only the surliness of his nation, and cared little for a man who + never asked for the news, and to whom he brought no letters. The long + nights which wrapped the cabin in sea-fog, and at first seemed to heighten + the exile's sense of security, by degrees, however, became monotonous, and + incited an odd restlessness, which he was wont to oppose by whiskey,—allowed + as a part of his stores,—which, while it dulled his sensibilities, + he, however, never permitted to interfere with his mechanical duties. + </p> + <p> + He had been there five months, and the hills on the opposite shore between + Tamalpais were already beginning to show their russet yellow sides. One + bright morning he was watching the little fleet of Italian fishing-boats + hovering in the bay. This was always a picturesque spectacle, perhaps the + only one that relieved the general monotony of his outlook. The quaint + lateen sails of dull red, or yellow, showing against the sparkling waters, + and the red caps or handkerchiefs of the fishermen, might have attracted + even a more abstracted man. Suddenly one of the larger boats tacked, and + made directly for the little cove where his weekly plunger used to land. + In an instant he was alert and suspicious. But a close examination of the + boat through his glass satisfied him that it contained, in addition to the + crew, only two or three women, apparently the family of the fishermen. As + it ran up on the beach and the entire party disembarked he could see it + was merely a careless, peaceable invasion, and he thought no more about + it. The strangers wandered about the sands, gesticulating and laughing; + they brought a pot ashore, built a fire, and cooked a homely meal. He + could see that from time to time the semaphore—evidently a novelty + to them—had attracted their attention; and having occasion to signal + the arrival of a bark, the working of the uncouth arms of the instrument + drew the children in half-frightened curiosity towards it, although the + others held aloof, as if fearful of trespassing upon some work of the + government, no doubt secretly guarded by the police. A few mornings later + he was surprised to see upon the beach, near the same locality, a small + heap of lumber which had evidently been landed in the early morning fog. + The next day an old tent appeared on the spot, and the men, evidently + fishermen, began the erection of a rude cabin beside it. Jarman had been + long enough there to know that it was government land, and that these + manifestly humble “squatters” upon it would not be interfered with for + some time to come. He began to be uneasy again; it was true they were + fully half a mile from him, and they were foreigners; but might not their + reckless invasion of the law attract others, in this lawless country, to + do the same? It ought to be stopped. For once Richard Jarman sided with + legal authority. + </p> + <p> + But when the cabin was completed, it was evident from what he saw of its + rude structure that it was only a temporary shelter for the fisherman's + family and the stores, and refitting of the fishing-boat, more convenient + to them than the San Francisco wharves. The beach was utilized for the + mending of nets and sails, and thus became half picturesque. In spite of + the keen northwestern trades, the cloudless, sunshiny mornings tempted + these southerners back to their native al fresco existence; they not only + basked in the sun, but many of their household duties, and even the + mysteries of their toilet, were performed in the open air. They did not + seem to care to penetrate into the desolate region behind them; their + half-amphibious habit kept them near the water's edge, and Richard Jarman, + after taking his limited walks for the first few mornings in another + direction, found it no longer necessary to avoid the locality, and even + forgot their propinquity. + </p> + <p> + But one morning, as the fog was clearing away and the sparkle of the + distant sea was beginning to show from his window, he rose from his + belated breakfast to fetch water from the “breaker” outside, which had to + be replenished weekly from Sancelito, as there was no spring in his + vicinity. As he opened the door, he was inexpressibly startled by the + figure of a young woman standing in front of it, who, however, half + fearfully, half laughingly withdrew before him. But his own manifest + disturbance apparently gave her courage. + </p> + <p> + “I jess was looking at that thing,” she said bashfully, pointing to the + semaphore. + </p> + <p> + He was still more astonished, for, looking at her dark eyes and olive + complexion, he had expected her to speak Italian or broken English. And, + possibly because for a long time he had seen and known little of women, he + was quite struck with her good looks. He hesitated, stammered, and then + said:— + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come in?” + </p> + <p> + She drew back still farther and made a rapid gesture of negation with her + head, her hand, and even her whole lithe figure. Then she said, with a + decided American intonation:— + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said Jarman mechanically. + </p> + <p> + The girl sidled up against the cabin, keeping her eyes fixed on Jarman + with a certain youthful shrewdness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I really do not. Tell me why.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up against the wall a little proudly, though still + youthfully, with her hands behind her. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't that kind of girl,” she said simply. + </p> + <p> + The blood rushed to Jarman's checks. Dissipated and abandoned as his life + had been, small respecter of women as he was, he was shocked and shamed. + Knowing too, as he did, how absorbed he was in other things, he was + indignant, because not guilty. + </p> + <p> + “Do as you please, then,” he said shortly, and reentered the cabin. But + the next moment he saw his error in betraying an irritation that was open + to misconstruction. He came out again, scarcely looking at the girl, who + was lounging away. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to explain to you how the thing works?” he said + indifferently. “I can't show you unless a ship comes in.” + </p> + <p> + The girl's eyes brightened softly as she turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “Do tell me,” she said, with an anticipatory smile and flash of white + teeth. “Won't you?” + </p> + <p> + She certainly was very pretty and simple, in spite of her late speech. + Jarman briefly explained to her the movements of the semaphore arms and + their different significance. She listened with her capped head a little + on one side like an attentive bird, and her arms unconsciously imitating + the signs. Certainly, for all that she SPOKE like an American, her + gesticulation was Italian. + </p> + <p> + “And then,” she said triumphantly when he paused, “when the sailors see + that sign up they know they are coming in the harbor.” + </p> + <p> + Jarman smiled, as he had not smiled since he had been there. He corrected + this mistake of her eager haste to show her intelligence, and, taking the + telescope, pointed out the other semaphore,—a thin black outline on + a distant inland hill. He then explained how HIS signs were repeated by + that instrument to San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + “My! Why, I always allowed that was only the cross stuck up in the Lone + Mountain Cemetery,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You are a Catholic?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are an Italian?” + </p> + <p> + “Father is, but mother was a 'Merikan, same as me. Mother's dead.” + </p> + <p> + “And your father is the fisherman yonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—but,” with a look of pride, “he's got the biggest boat of + any.” + </p> + <p> + “And only you and your family are ashore here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and sometimes Mark.” She laughed an odd little laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Mark? Who's he?” he asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + He had not noticed the sudden coquettish pose and half-affected + bashfulness of the girl; he was thinking only of the possibility of + detection by strangers. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is Marco Franti, but I call him 'Mark.' It's the same name, you + know, and it makes him mad,” said the girl, with the same suggestion of + archness and coquetry. + </p> + <p> + But all this was lost on Jarman. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, another Italian,” he said, relieved. She turned away a little + awkwardly when he added, “But you haven't told me YOUR name, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Cara.” + </p> + <p> + “Cara,—that's 'dear' in Italian, isn't it?” he said, with a + reminiscence of the opera and a half smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said a little scornfully, “but it means Carlotta,—Charlotte, + you know. Some girls call me Charley,” she said hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “I see—Cara—or Carlotta Franti.” + </p> + <p> + To his surprise she burst into a peal of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon not YET. Franti is Mark's name, not mine. Mine is Murano,—Carlotta + Murano. Good-by.” She moved away, then stopped suddenly and said, “I'm + comin' again some time when the thing is working,” and with a nod of her + head, ran away. He looked after her; could see the outlines of her + youthful figure in her slim cotton gown,—limp and clinging in the + damp sea air, and the sudden revelation of her bare ankles thrust + stockingless into canvas shoes. + </p> + <p> + He went back into his cabin, when presently his attention was engrossed by + an incoming vessel. He made the signals, half expecting, almost hoping, + that the girl would return to watch him. But her figure was already lost + in the sand dunes. Yet he fancied he still heard the echoes of her voice + and his own in this cabin which had so long been dumb and voiceless, and + he now started at every sound. For the first time he became aware of the + dreadful disorder and untidiness of its uninvaded privacy. He could + scarcely believe he had been living with his stove, his bed, and cooking + utensils all in one corner of the barnlike room, and he began to put them + “to rights” in a rough, hard formality, strongly suggestive of his convict + experience. He rolled up his blankets into a hard cylinder at the head of + his cot. He scraped out his kettles and saucepans, and even “washed down” + the floor, afterwards sprinkling clean dry sand, hot with the noonday + sunshine, on its half-dried boards. In arranging these domestic details he + had to change the position of a little mirror; and glancing at it for the + first time in many days, he was dissatisfied with his straggling beard,—grown + during his voyage from Australia,—and although he had retained it as + a disguise, he at once shaved it off, leaving only a mustache, and + revealing a face from which a healthier life and out-of-door existence had + removed the last traces of vice and dissipation. But he did not know it. + </p> + <p> + All the next day he thought of his fair visitor, and found himself often + repeating her odd remark that she was “not that kind of girl,” with a + smile that was alternately significant or vacant. Evidently she could take + care of herself, he thought, although her very good looks no doubt had + exposed her to the rude attentions of fishermen or the common drift of San + Francisco wharves. Perhaps this was why her father brought her here. When + the day passed and she came not, he began vaguely to wonder if he had been + rude to her. Perhaps he had taken her simple remark too seriously; perhaps + she had expected he would only laugh, and had found him dull and stupid. + Perhaps he had thrown away an opportunity. An opportunity for what? To + renew his old life and habits? No, no! The horrors of his recent + imprisonment and escape were still too fresh in his memory; he was not + safe yet. Then he wondered if he had not grown spiritless and + pigeon-livered in his solitude and loneliness. The next day he searched + for her with his glass, and saw her playing with one of the children on + the beach,—a very picture of child or nymphlike innocence. Perhaps + it was because she was not “that kind of girl” that she had attracted him. + He laughed bitterly. Yes; that was very funny; he, an escaped convict, + drawn towards honest, simple innocence! Yet he knew—he was positive—he + had not thought of any ill when he spoke to her. He took a singular, a + ridiculous pride in and credit to himself for that. He repeated it + incessantly to himself. Then what made her angry? Himself! The devil! Did + he carry, then, the record of his past life forever in his face—in + his speech—in his manners? The thought made him sullen. The next day + he would not look towards the shore; it was wonderful what excitement and + satisfaction he got out of that strange act of self-denial; it made the + day seem full that had been so vacant before; yet he could not tell why or + wherefore. He felt injured, but he rather liked it. Yet in the night he + was struck with the idea that she might have gone back to San Francisco, + and he lay awake longing for the morning light to satisfy him. Yet when + the fog cleared, and from a nearer point, behind a sand dune, he + discovered, by the aid of his glass, that she was seated on the sun-warmed + sands combing out her long hair like a mermaid, he immediately returned to + the cabin, and that morning looked no more that way. In the afternoon, + there being no sails in sight, he turned aside from the bay and walked + westward towards the ocean, halting only at the league-long line of foam + which marked the breaking Pacific surges. Here he was surprised to see a + little child, half-naked, following barefooted the creeping line of spume, + or running after the detached and quivering scraps of foam that chased + each other over the wet sand, and only a little further on, to come upon + Cara herself, sitting with her elbows on her knees and her round chin in + her hands, apparently gazing over the waste of waters before her. A sudden + and inexplicable shyness overtook him. He hesitated, and stepped + half-hidden in a gully between the sand dunes. + </p> + <p> + As yet he had not been observed; the young girl called to the child and, + suddenly rising, threw off her red cap and shawl and quietly began to + disrobe herself. A couple of coarse towels were at her feet. Jarman + instantly comprehended that she was going to bathe with the child. She + undoubtedly knew as well as he did that she was safe in that solitude; + that no one could intrude upon her privacy from the bay shore, nor from + the desolate inland trail to the sea, without her knowledge. Of his own + contiguity she had evidently taken no thought, believing him safely housed + in his cabin beside the semaphore. She lifted her hands, and with a sudden + movement shook out her long hair and let it fall down her back at the same + moment that her unloosened blouse began to slip from her shoulders. + Richard Jarman turned quickly and walked noiselessly and rapidly away, + until the little hillock had shut out the beach. + </p> + <p> + His retreat was as sudden, unreasoning, and unpremeditated as his + intrusion. It was not like himself, he knew, and yet it was as perfectly + instinctive and natural as if he had intruded upon a sister. In the South + Seas he had seen native girls diving beside the vessels for coins, but + they had provoked no such instinct as that which possessed him now. More + than that, he swept a quick, wrathful glance along the horizon on either + side, and then, mounting a remote hillock which still hid him from the + beach, he sat there and kept watch and ward. From time to time the strong + sea-breeze brought him the sound of infantine screams and shouts of + girlish laughter from the unseen shore; he only looked the more keenly and + suspiciously for any wandering trespasser, and did not turn his head. He + lay there nearly half an hour, and when the sounds had ceased, rose and + made his way slowly back to the cabin. He had not gone many yards before + he heard the twitter of voices and smothered laughter behind him. He + turned; it was Cara and the child,—a girl of six or seven. Cara's + face was rosy,—possibly from her bath, and possibly from some + shame-faced consciousness. He slackened his pace, and as they ranged + beside him said, “Good-morning!” + </p> + <p> + “Lord!” said Cara, stifling another laugh, “we didn't know you were + around; we thought you were always 'tending your telegraph, didn't we, + Lucy?” (to the child, who was convulsed with mirth and sheepishness). + “Why, we've been taking a wash in the sea.” She tried to gather up her + long hair, which had been left to stray over her shoulders and dry in the + sunlight, and even made a slight pretense of trying to conceal the wet + towels they were carrying. + </p> + <p> + Jarman did not laugh. “If you had told me,” he said gravely, “I could have + kept watch for you with my glass while you were there. I could see further + than you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tould you see US?” asked the little girl, with hopeful vivacity. + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Jarman, with masterly evasion. “There are little sandhills + between this and the beach.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how tould other people see us?” persisted the child. + </p> + <p> + Jarman could see that the older girl was evidently embarrassed, and + changed the subject. “I sometimes go out,” he said, “when I can see there + are no vessels in sight, and I take ray glass with me. I can always get + back in time to make signals. I thought, in fact,” he said, glancing at + Cara's brightening face, “that I might get as far as your house on the + shore some day.” To his surprise, her embarrassment suddenly seemed to + increase, although she had looked relieved before, and she did not reply. + After a moment she said abruptly:— + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see the sea-lions?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jarman. + </p> + <p> + “Not the big ones on Seal Rock, beyond the cliffs?” continued the girl, in + real astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “No,” repeated Jarman. “I never walked in that direction.” He vaguely + remembered that they were a curiosity which sometimes attracted parties + thither, and for that reason he had avoided the spot. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I have sailed all around the rock in father's boat,” continued Cara, + with importance. “That's the best way to see 'em, and folks from Frisco + sometimes takes a sail out there just on purpose,—it's too sandy to + walk or drive there. But it's only a step from here. Look here!” she said + suddenly, and frankly opening her fine eyes upon him. “I'm going to take + Lucy there to-morrow, and I'll show you.” Jarman felt his cheeks flush + quickly with a pleasure that embarrassed him. “It won't take long,” added + Cara, mistaking his momentary hesitation, “and you can leave your + telegraph alone. Nobody will be there, so no one will see you and nobody + know it.” + </p> + <p> + He would have gone then, anyway, he knew, yet in his absurd + self-consciousness he was glad that her last suggestion had relieved him + of a sense of reckless compliance. He assented eagerly, when with a wave + of her hand, a flash of her white teeth, and the same abruptness she had + shown at their last parting, she caught Lucy by the arm and darted away in + a romping race to her dwelling. Jarman started after her. He had not + wanted to go to her father's house particularly, but why was SHE evidently + as averse to it? With the subtle pleasure that this admission gave him + there was a faint stirring of suspicion. + </p> + <p> + It was gone when he found her and Lucy the next morning, radiant with the + sunshine, before his door. The restraint of their previous meetings had + been removed in some mysterious way, and they chatted gayly as they walked + towards the cliffs. She asked him frankly many questions about himself, + why he had come there, and if he “wasn't lonely;” she answered frankly—I + fear much more frankly than he answered her—the many questions he + asked her about herself and her friends. When they reached the cliffs they + descended to the beach, which they found deserted. Before them—it + seemed scarce a pistol shot from the shore arose a high, broad rock, + beaten at its base by the long Pacific surf, on which a number of + shapeless animals were uncouthly disporting. This was Seal Rock, the goal + of their journey. + </p> + <p> + Yet after a few moments they no longer looked at it, but seated on the + sand, with Lucy gathering shells at the water's edge, they continued their + talk. Presently the talk became eager confidences, and then,—there + were long and dangerous lapses of silence, when both were fain to make + perfunctory talk with Lucy on the beach. After one of those silences + Jarman said:— + </p> + <p> + “Do you know I rather thought yesterday you didn't want me to come to your + father's house. Why was that?” + </p> + <p> + “Because Marco was there,” said the girl frankly. + </p> + <p> + “What had HE to do with it?” said Jarman abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “He wants to marry me.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you want to marry HIM?” said Jarman quickly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the girl passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you get rid of him, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't, he's hiding here,—he's father's friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Hiding? What's he been doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Stealing. Stealing gold-dust from miners. I never cared for him anyway. + And I hate a thief!” + </p> + <p> + She looked up quickly. Jarman had risen to his feet, his face turned to + sea. + </p> + <p> + “What are you looking at?” she said wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “A ship,” said Jarman, in a strange, hoarse voice. “I must hurry back and + signal. I'm afraid I haven't even time to walk with you,—I must run + for it. Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + He turned without offering his hand and ran hurriedly in the direction of + the semaphore. + </p> + <p> + Cara, discomfited, turned her black eyes to the sea. But it seemed empty + as before, no sail, no ship on the horizon line, only a little schooner + slowly beating out of the Gate. Ah, well! It no doubt was there,—that + sail,—though she could not see it; how keen and far-seeing his + handsome, honest eyes were! She heaved a little sigh, and, calling Lucy to + her side, began to make her way homeward. But she kept her eyes on the + semaphore; it seemed to her the next thing to seeing him,—this man + she was beginning to love. She waited for the gaunt arms to move with the + signal of the vessel he had seen. But, strange to say, it was motionless. + He must have been mistaken. + </p> + <p> + All this, however, was driven from her mind in the excitement that she + found on her return thrilling her own family. They had been warned that a + police boat with detectives on board had been dispatched from San + Francisco to the cove. Luckily, they had managed to convey the fugitive + Franti on board a coastwise schooner,—Cara started as she remembered + the one she had seen beating out of the Gate,—and he was now safe + from pursuit. Cara felt relieved; at the same time she felt a strange joy + at her heart, which sent the conscious blood to her cheek. She was not + thinking of the escaped Marco, but of Jarman. Later, when the police boat + arrived,—whether the detectives had been forewarned of Marco's + escape or not,—they contented themselves with a formal search of the + little fishing-hut and departed. But their boat remained lying off the + shore. + </p> + <p> + That night Cara tossed sleeplessly on her bed; she was sorry she had ever + spoken of Marco to Jarman. It was unnecessary now; perhaps he disbelieved + her and thought she loved Marco; perhaps that was the reason of his + strange and abrupt leave-taking that afternoon. She longed for the next + day, she could tell him everything now. + </p> + <p> + Towards morning she slept fitfully, but was awakened by the sound of + voices on the sands outside the hut. Its flimsy structure, already warped + by the fierce day-long sun, allowed her through chinks and crevices not + only to recognize the voices of the detectives, but to hear distinctly + what they said. Suddenly the name of Jarman struck upon her ear. She sat + upright in bed, breathless. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure it's the same man?” asked a second voice. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” answered the first. “He was tracked to 'Frisco, but + disappeared the day he landed. We knew from our agents that he never left + the bay. And when we found that somebody answering his description got the + post of telegraph operator out here, we knew that we had spotted our man + and the L250 sterling offered for his capture.” + </p> + <p> + “But that was five months ago. Why didn't you take him then?” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't! For we couldn't hold him without the extradition papers from + Australia. We sent for 'em; they're due to-day or to-morrow on the mail + steamer.” + </p> + <p> + “But he might have got away at any time?” + </p> + <p> + “He couldn't without our knowing it. Don't you see? Every time the signals + went up, we in San Francisco knew he was at his post. We had him safe, out + here on these sandhills, as if he'd been under lock and key in 'Frisco. He + was his own keeper, and reported to us.” + </p> + <p> + “But since you're here and expect the papers to-morrow, why don't you + 'cop' him now?” + </p> + <p> + “Because there isn't a judge in San Francisco that would hold him a moment + unless he had those extradition papers before him. He'd be discharged, and + escape.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as the steamer is signaled in 'Frisco, we'll board her in the + bay, get the papers, and drop down upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “I see; and as HE'S the signal man, the darned fool”— + </p> + <p> + “Will give the signal himself.” + </p> + <p> + The laugh that followed was so cruel that the young girl shuddered. But + the next moment she slipped from the bed, erect, pale, and determined. + </p> + <p> + The voices seemed gradually to retreat. She dressed herself hurriedly, and + passed noiselessly through the room of her still sleeping parent, and + passed out. A gray fog was lifting slowly over the sands and sea, and the + police boat was gone. She no longer hesitated, but ran quickly in the + direction of Jarman's cabin. As she ran, her mind seemed to be swept clear + of all illusion and fancy; she saw plainly everything that had happened; + she knew the mystery of Jarman's presence here,—the secret of his + life,—the dreadful cruelty of her remark to him,—the man that + she knew now she loved. The sun was painting the black arms of the + semaphore as she toiled over the last stretch of sand and knocked loudly + at the door. There was no reply. She knocked again; the cabin was silent. + Had he already fled?—and without seeing her and knowing all! She + tried the handle of the door; it yielded; she stepped boldly into the + room, with his name upon her lips. He was lying fully dressed upon his + couch. She ran eagerly to his side and stopped. It needed only a single + glance at his congested face, his lips parted with his heavy breath, to + see that the man was hopelessly, helplessly drunk! + </p> + <p> + Yet even then, without knowing that it was her thoughtless speech which + had driven him to seek this foolish oblivion of remorse and sorrow, she + saw only his HELPLESSNESS. She tried in vain to rouse him; he only + muttered a few incoherent words and sank back again. She looked + despairingly around. Something must be done; the steamer might be visible + at any moment. Ah, yes,—the telescope! She seized it and swept the + horizon. There was a faint streak of haze against the line of sea and sky, + abreast the Golden Gate. He had once told her what it meant. It WAS the + steamer! A sudden thought leaped into her clear and active brain. If the + police boat should chance to see that haze too, and saw no warning signal + from the semaphore, they would suspect something. That signal must be + made, BUT NOT THE RIGHT ONE! She remembered quickly how he had explained + to her the difference between the signals for a coasting steamer and the + one that brought the mails. At that distance the police boat could not + detect whether the semaphore's arms were extended to perfect right angles + for the mail steamer, or if the left arm slightly deflected for a coasting + steamer. She ran out to the windlass and seized the crank. For a moment it + defied her strength; she redoubled her efforts: it began to creak and + groan, the great arms were slowly uplifted, and the signal made. + </p> + <p> + But the familiar sounds of the moving machinery had pierced through + Jarman's sluggish consciousness as no other sound in heaven or earth could + have done, and awakened him to the one dominant sense he had left,—the + habit of duty. She heard him roll from the bed with an oath, stumble to + the door, and saw him dash forward with an affrighted face, and plunge his + head into a bucket of water. He emerged from it pale and dripping, but + with the full light of reason and consciousness in his eyes. He started + when he saw her; even then she would have fled, but he caught her firmly + by the wrist. + </p> + <p> + Then with a hurried, trembling voice she told him all and everything. He + listened in silence, and only at the end raised her hand gravely to his + lips. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” she added tremulously, “you must fly—quick—at once; + or it will be too late!” + </p> + <p> + But Richard Jarman walked slowly to the door of his cabin, still holding + her hand, and said quietly, pointing to his only chair:— + </p> + <p> + “Sit down; we must talk first.” + </p> + <p> + What they said was never known, but a few moments later they left the + cabin, Jarman carrying in a small bag all his possessions, and Cara + leaning on his arm. An hour later the priest of the Mission Dolores was + called upon to unite in matrimony a frank, honest-looking sailor and an + Italian gypsy-looking girl. There were many hasty unions in those days, + and the Holy Church was only too glad to be able to give them its legal + indorsement. But the good Padre was a little sorry for the honest sailor, + and gave the girl some serious advice. + </p> + <p> + The San Francisco papers the next morning threw some dubious light upon + the matter in a paragraph headed, “Another Police Fiasco.” + </p> + <p> + “We understand that the indefatigable police of San Francisco, after + ascertaining that Marco Franti, the noted gold-dust thief, was hiding on + the shore near the Presidio, proceeded there with great solemnity, and + arrived, as usual, a few hours after their man had escaped. But the climax + of incapacity was reached when, as it is alleged, the sweetheart of the + absconding Franti, and daughter of a brother fisherman, eloped still + later, and joined her lover under the very noses of the police. The + attempt of the detectives to excuse themselves at headquarters by + reporting that they were also on the track of an alleged escaped Sydney + Duck was received with the derision and skepticism it deserved, as it + seemed that these worthies mistook the mail steamer, which they should + have boarded to get certain extradition papers, for a coasting steamer.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It was not until four years later that Murano was delighted to recognize + in the husband of his long-lost daughter a very rich cattle-owner in + Southern California, called Jarman; but he never knew that he had been an + escaped convict from Sydney, who had lately received a full pardon through + the instrumentality of divers distinguished people in Australia. + </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> + AN ESMERALDA OF ROCKY CANYON + </h2> + <p> + It is to be feared that the hero of this chronicle began life as an + impostor. He was offered to the credulous and sympathetic family of a San + Francisco citizen as a lamb, who, unless bought as a playmate for the + children, would inevitably pass into the butcher's hands. A combination of + refined sensibility and urban ignorance of nature prevented them from + discerning certain glaring facts that betrayed his caprid origin. So a + ribbon was duly tied round his neck, and in pleasing emulation of the + legendary “Mary,” he was taken to school by the confiding children. Here, + alas the fraud was discovered, and history was reversed by his being + turned out by the teacher, because he was NOT “a lamb at school.” + Nevertheless, the kind-hearted mother of the family persisted in retaining + him, on the plea that he might yet become “useful.” To her husband's + feeble suggestion of “gloves,” she returned a scornful negative, and spoke + of the weakly infant of a neighbor, who might later receive nourishment + from this providential animal. But even this hope was destroyed by the + eventual discovery of his sex. Nothing remained now but to accept him as + an ordinary kid, and to find amusement in his accomplishments,—eating, + climbing, and butting. It must be confessed that these were of a superior + quality; a capacity to eat everything from a cambric handkerchief to an + election poster, an agility which brought him even to the roofs of houses, + and a power of overturning by a single push the chubbiest child who + opposed him, made him a fearful joy to the nursery. This last quality was + incautiously developed in him by a negro boy-servant, who, later, was + hurriedly propelled down a flight of stairs by his too proficient scholar. + Having once tasted victory, “Billy” needed no further incitement to his + performances. The small wagon which he sometimes consented to draw for the + benefit of the children never hindered his attempts to butt the passer-by. + On the contrary, on well-known scientific principles he added the impact + of the bodies of the children projected over his head in his charge, and + the infelicitous pedestrian found himself not only knocked off his legs by + Billy, but bombarded by the whole nursery. + </p> + <p> + Delightful as was this recreation to juvenile limbs, it was felt to be + dangerous to the adult public. Indignant protestations were made, and as + Billy could not be kept in the house, he may be said to have at last + butted himself out of that sympathetic family and into a hard and + unfeeling world. One morning he broke his tether in the small back yard. + For several days thereafter he displayed himself in guilty freedom on the + tops of adjacent walls and outhouses. The San Francisco suburb where his + credulous protectors lived was still in a volcanic state of disruption, + caused by the grading of new streets through rocks and sandhills. In + consequence the roofs of some houses were on the level of the doorsteps of + others, and were especially adapted to Billy's performances. One + afternoon, to the admiring and perplexed eyes of the nursery, he was + discovered standing on the apex of a neighbor's new Elizabethan chimney, + on a space scarcely larger than the crown of a hat, calmly surveying the + world beneath him. High infantile voices appealed to him in vain; baby + arms were outstretched to him in hopeless invitation; he remained exalted + and obdurate, like Milton's hero, probably by his own merit “raised to + that bad eminence.” Indeed, there was already something Satanic in his + budding horns and pointed mask as the smoke curled softly around him. Then + he appropriately vanished, and San Francisco knew him no more. At the same + time, however, one Owen M'Ginnis, a neighboring sandhill squatter, also + disappeared, leaving San Francisco for the southern mines, and he was said + to have taken Billy with him,—for no conceivable reason except for + companionship. Howbeit, it was the turning-point of Billy's career; such + restraint as kindness, civilization, or even policemen had exercised upon + his nature was gone. He retained, I fear, a certain wicked intelligence, + picked up in San Francisco with the newspapers and theatrical and election + posters he had consumed. He reappeared at Rocky Canyon among the miners as + an exceedingly agile chamois, with the low cunning of a satyr. That was + all that civilization had done for him! + </p> + <p> + If Mr. M'Ginnis had fondly conceived that he would make Billy “useful,” as + well as companionable, he was singularly mistaken. Horses and mules were + scarce in Rocky Canyon, and he attempted to utilize Billy by making him + draw a small cart, laden with auriferous earth, from his claim to the + river. Billy, rapidly gaining strength, was quite equal to the task, but + alas! not his inborn propensity. An incautious gesture from the first + passing miner Billy chose to construe into the usual challenge. Lowering + his head, from which his budding horns had been already pruned by his + master, he instantly went for his challenger, cart and all. Again the + scientific law already pointed out prevailed. With the shock of the onset + the entire contents of the cart arose and poured over the astonished + miner, burying him from sight. In any other but a Californian mining-camp + such a propensity in a draught animal would have been condemned, on + account of the damage and suffering it entailed, but in Rocky Canyon it + proved unprofitable to the owner from the very amusement and interest it + excited. Miners lay in wait for Billy with a “greenhorn,” or new-comer, + whom they would put up to challenge the animal by some indiscreet gesture. + In this way hardly a cartload of “pay-gravel” ever arrived safely at its + destination, and the unfortunate M'Ginnis was compelled to withdraw Billy + as a beast of burden. It was whispered that so great had his propensity + become, under repeated provocation, that M'Ginnis himself was no longer + safe. Going ahead of his cart one day to remove a fallen bough from the + trail, Billy construed the act of stooping into a playful challenge from + his master,—with the inevitable result. + </p> + <p> + The next day M'Ginnis appeared with a wheelbarrow, but without Billy. From + that day he was relegated to the rocky crags above the camp, from whence + he was only lured occasionally by the mischievous miners, who wished to + exhibit his peculiar performances. For although Billy had ample food and + sustenance among the crags, he had still a civilized longing for posters; + and whenever a circus, a concert, or a political meeting was “billed” in + the settlement, he was on hand while the paste was yet fresh and + succulent. In this way it was averred that he once removed a gigantic + theatre bill setting forth the charms of the “Sacramento Pet,” and being + caught in the act by the advance agent, was pursued through the main + street, carrying the damp bill on his horns, eventually affixing it, after + his own peculiar fashion, on the back of Judge Boompointer, who was + standing in front of his own court-house. + </p> + <p> + In connection with the visits of this young lady another story concerning + Billy survives in the legends of Rocky Canyon. Colonel Starbottle was at + that time passing through the settlement on election business, and it was + part of his chivalrous admiration for the sex to pay a visit to the pretty + actress. The single waiting-room of the little hotel gave upon the + veranda, which was also level with the street. After a brief yet gallant + interview, in which he oratorically expressed the gratitude of the + settlement with old-fashioned Southern courtesy, Colonel Starbottle lifted + the chubby little hand of the “Pet” to his lips, and, with a low bow, + backed out upon the veranda. But the Pet was astounded by his instant + reappearance, and by his apparently casting himself passionately and + hurriedly at her feet! It is needless to say that he was followed closely + by Billy, who from the street had casually noticed him, and construed his + novel exit into an ungentlemanly challenge. + </p> + <p> + Billy's visits, however, became less frequent, and as Rocky Canyon + underwent the changes incidental to mining settlements, he was presently + forgotten in the invasion of a few Southwestern families, and the adoption + of amusements less practical and turbulent than he had afforded. It was + alleged that he was still seen in the more secluded fastnesses of the + mountains, having reverted to a wild state, and it was suggested by one or + two of the more adventurous that he might yet become edible, and a fair + object of chase. A traveler through the Upper Pass of the canyon related + how he had seen a savage-looking, hairy animal like a small elk perched + upon inaccessible rocks, but always out of gunshot. But these and other + legends were set at naught and overthrown by an unexpected incident. + </p> + <p> + The Pioneer Coach was toiling up the long grade towards Skinners Pass when + Yuba Bill suddenly pulled up, with his feet on the brake. + </p> + <p> + “Jimminy!” he ejaculated, drawing a deep breath. + </p> + <p> + The startled passenger beside him on the box followed the direction of his + eyes. Through an opening in the wayside pines he could see, a few hundred + yards away, a cuplike hollow in the hillside of the vividest green. In the + centre a young girl of fifteen or sixteen was dancing and keeping step to + the castanet “click” of a pair of “bones,” such as negro minstrels use, + held in her hands above her head. But, more singular still, a few paces + before her a large goat, with its neck roughly wreathed with flowers and + vines, was taking ungainly bounds and leaps in imitation of its companion. + The wild background of the Sierras, the pastoral hollow, the + incongruousness of the figures, and the vivid color of the girl's red + flannel petticoat showing beneath her calico skirt, that had been pinned + around her waist, made a striking picture, which by this time had + attracted all eyes. Perhaps the dancing of the girl suggested a negro + “break-down” rather than any known sylvan measure; but all this, and even + the clatter of the bones, was made gracious by the distance. + </p> + <p> + “Esmeralda! by the living Harry!” shouted the excited passenger on the + box. + </p> + <p> + Yuba Bill took his feet off the brake, and turned a look of deep scorn + upon his companion as he gathered the reins again. + </p> + <p> + “It's that blanked goat, outer Rocky Canyon beyond, and Polly Harkness! + How did she ever come to take up with HIM?” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, as soon as the coach reached Rocky Canyon, the story was + quickly told by the passengers, corroborated by Yuba Bill, and highly + colored by the observer on the box-seat. Harkness was known to be a + new-comer who lived with his wife and only daughter on the other side of + Skinners Pass. He was a “logger” and charcoal-burner, who had eaten his + way into the serried ranks of pines below the pass, and established in + these efforts an almost insurmountable cordon of fallen trees, stripped + bark, and charcoal pits around the clearing where his rude log hut stood,—which + kept his seclusion unbroken. He was said to be a half-savage mountaineer + from Georgia, in whose rude fastnesses he had distilled unlawful whiskey, + and that his tastes and habits unfitted him for civilization. His wife + chewed and smoked; he was believed to make a fiery brew of his own from + acorns and pine nuts; he seldom came to Rocky Canyon except for + provisions; his logs were slipped down a “shoot” or slide to the river, + where they voyaged once a month to a distant mill, but HE did not + accompany them. The daughter, seldom seen at Rocky Canyon, was a + half-grown girl, brown as autumn fern, wild-eyed, disheveled, in a + homespun skirt, sunbonnet, and boy's brogans. Such were the plain facts + which skeptical Rocky Canyon opposed to the passengers' legends. + Nevertheless, some of the younger miners found it not out of their way to + go over Skinners Pass on the journey to the river, but with what success + was not told. It was said, however, that a celebrated New York artist, + making a tour of California, was on the coach one day going through the + pass, and preserved the memory of what he saw there in a well-known + picture entitled “Dancing Nymph and Satyr,” said by competent critics to + be “replete with the study of Greek life.” This did not affect Rocky + Canyon, where the study of mythology was presumably displaced by an + experience of more wonderful flesh-and-blood people, but later it was + remembered with some significance. + </p> + <p> + Among the improvements already noted, a zinc and wooden chapel had been + erected in the main street, where a certain popular revivalist preacher of + a peculiar Southwestern sect regularly held exhortatory services. His rude + emotional power over his ignorant fellow-sectarians was well known, while + curiosity drew others. His effect upon the females of his flock was + hysterical and sensational. Women prematurely aged by frontier drudgery + and child-bearing, girls who had known only the rigors and pains of a + half-equipped, ill-nourished youth in their battling with the hard + realities of nature around them, all found a strange fascination in the + extravagant glories and privileges of the unseen world he pictured to + them, which they might have found in the fairy tales and nursery legends + of civilized children, had they known them. Personally he was not + attractive; his thin pointed face, and bushy hair rising on either side of + his square forehead in two rounded knots, and his long, straggling, wiry + beard dropping from a strong neck and shoulders, were indeed of a common + Southwestern type; yet in him they suggested something more. This was + voiced by a miner who attended his first service, and as the Reverend Mr. + Withholder rose in the pulpit, the former was heard to audibly ejaculate, + “Dod blasted!—if it ain't Billy!” But when on the following Sunday, + to everybody's astonishment, Polly Harkness, in a new white muslin frock + and broad-brimmed Leghorn hat, appeared before the church door with the + real Billy, and exchanged conversation with the preacher, the likeness was + appalling. + </p> + <p> + I grieve to say that the goat was at once christened by Rocky Canyon as + “The Reverend Billy,” and the minister himself was Billy's “brother.” More + than that, when an attempt was made by outsiders, during the service, to + inveigle the tethered goat into his old butting performances, and he took + not the least notice of their insults and challenges, the epithet “blanked + hypocrite” was added to his title. + </p> + <p> + Had he really reformed? Had his pastoral life with his nymph-like mistress + completely cured him of his pugnacious propensity, or had he simply found + it was inconsistent with his dancing, and seriously interfered with his + “fancy steps”? Had he found tracts and hymn-books were as edible as + theatre posters? These were questions that Rocky canyon discussed lightly, + although there was always the more serious mystery of the relations of the + Reverend Mr. Withholder, Polly Harkness, and the goat towards each other. + The appearance of Polly at church was no doubt due to the minister's + active canvass of the districts. But had he ever heard of Polly's dancing + with the goat? And where in this plain, angular, badly dressed Polly was + hidden that beautiful vision of the dancing nymph which had enthralled so + many? And when had Billy ever given any suggestion of his Terpsichorean + abilities—before or since? Were there any “points” of the kind to be + discerned in him now? None! Was it not more probable that the Reverend Mr. + Withholder had himself been dancing with Polly, and been mistaken for the + goat? Passengers who could have been so deceived with regard to Polly's + beauty might have as easily mistaken the minister for Billy. About this + time another incident occurred which increased the mystery. + </p> + <p> + The only male in the settlement who apparently dissented from the popular + opinion regarding Polly was a new-comer, Jack Filgee. While discrediting + her performance with the goat,—which he had never seen,—he was + evidently greatly prepossessed with the girl herself. Unfortunately, he + was equally addicted to drinking, and as he was exceedingly shy and timid + when sober, and quite unpresentable at other times, his wooing, if it + could be so called, progressed but slowly. Yet when he found that Polly + went to church, he listened so far to the exhortations of the Reverend Mr. + Withholder as to promise to come to “Bible class” immediately after the + Sunday service. It was a hot afternoon, and Jack, who had kept sober for + two days, incautiously fortified himself for the ordeal by taking a drink + before arriving. He was nervously early, and immediately took a seat in + the empty church near the open door. The quiet of the building, the drowsy + buzzing of flies, and perhaps the soporific effect of the liquor caused + his eyes to close and his head to fall forward on his breast repeatedly. + He was recovering himself for the fourth time when he suddenly received a + violent cuff on the ear, and was knocked backward off the bench on which + he was sitting. That was all he knew. + </p> + <p> + He picked himself up with a certain dignity, partly new to him, and partly + the result of his condition, and staggered, somewhat bruised and + disheveled, to the nearest saloon. Here a few frequenters who had seen him + pass, who knew his errand and the devotion to Polly which had induced it, + exhibited a natural concern. + </p> + <p> + “How's things down at the gospel shop?” said one. “Look as ef you'd been + wrastlin' with the Sperit, Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Old man must hev exhorted pow'ful,” said another, glancing at his + disordered Sunday attire. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't be'n hevin' a row with Polly? I'm told she slings an awful left.” + </p> + <p> + Jack, instead of replying, poured out a dram of whiskey, drank it, and + putting down his glass, leaned heavily against the counter as he surveyed + his questioners with a sorrow chastened by reproachful dignity. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a stranger here, gentlemen,” he said slowly “ye've known me only a + little; but ez ye've seen me both blind drunk and sober, I reckon ye've + caught on to my gin'ral gait! Now I wanter put it to you, ez fair-minded + men, ef you ever saw me strike a parson?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said a chorus of sympathetic voices. The barkeeper, however, with a + swift recollection of Polly and the Reverend Withholder, and some possible + contingent jealousy in Jack, added prudently, “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + The chorus instantly added reflectively, “Well, no not yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Did ye ever,” continued Jack solemnly, “know me to cuss, sass, bully-rag, + or say anything agin parsons, or the church?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the crowd, overthrowing prudence in curiosity, “ye never did,—we + swear it! And now, what's up?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't what you call 'a member in good standin','” he went on, + artistically protracting his climax. “I ain't be'n convicted o' sin; I + ain't 'a meek an' lowly follower;' I ain't be'n exactly what I orter be'n; + I hevn't lived anywhere up to my lights; but is thet a reason why a parson + should strike me?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? What? When did he? Who did?” asked the eager crowd, with one voice. + </p> + <p> + Jack then painfully related how he had been invited by the Reverend Mr. + Withholder to attend the Bible class. How he had arrived early, and found + the church empty. How he had taken a seat near the door to be handy when + the parson came. How he just felt “kinder kam and good,” listenin' to the + flies buzzing, and must have fallen asleep,—only he pulled himself + up every time,—though, after all, it warn't no crime to fall asleep + in an empty church! How “all of a suddent” the parson came in, “give him a + clip side o' the head,” and knocked him off the bench, and left him there! + </p> + <p> + “But what did he SAY?” queried the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Nuthin'. Afore I could get up, he got away.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure it was him?” they asked. “You know you SAY you was asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I sure?” repeated Jack scornfully. “Don't I know thet face and beard? + Didn't I feel it hangin' over me?” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do about it?” continued the crowd eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Wait till he comes out—and you'll see,” said Jack, with dignity. + </p> + <p> + This was enough for the crowd; they gathered excitedly at the door, where + Jack was already standing, looking towards the church. The moments dragged + slowly; it might be a long meeting. Suddenly the church door opened and a + figure appeared, looking up and down the street. Jack colored—he + recognized Polly—and stepped out into the road. The crowd + delicately, but somewhat disappointedly, drew back in the saloon. They did + not care to interfere in THAT sort of thing. + </p> + <p> + Polly saw him, and came hurriedly towards him. She was holding something + in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I picked this up on the church floor,” she said shyly, “so I reckoned you + HAD be'n there,—though the parson said you hadn't,—and I just + excused myself and ran out to give it ye. It's yourn, ain't it?” She held + up a gold specimen pin, which he had put on in honor of the occasion. “I + had a harder time, though, to git this yer,—it's yourn too,—for + Billy was laying down in the yard, back o' the church, and just comf'bly + swallerin' it.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” said Jack quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Billy,—my goat.” + </p> + <p> + Jack drew a long breath, and glanced back at the saloon. “Ye ain't goin' + back to class now, are ye?” he said hurriedly. “Ef you ain't, I'll—I'll + see ye home.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind,” said Polly demurely, “if it ain't takin' ye outer y'ur + way.” + </p> + <p> + Jack offered his arm, and hurrying past the saloon, the happy pair were + soon on the road to Skinners Pass. + </p> + <p> + Jack did not, I regret to say, confess his blunder, but left the Reverend + Mr. Withholder to remain under suspicion of having committed an unprovoked + assault and battery. It was characteristic of Rocky Canyon, however, that + this suspicion, far from injuring his clerical reputation, incited a + respect that had been hitherto denied him. A man who could hit out + straight from the shoulder had, in the language of the critics, “suthin' + in him.” Oddly enough, the crowd that had at first sympathized with Jack + now began to admit provocations. His subsequent silence, a disposition + when questioned on the subject to smile inanely, and, later, when + insidiously asked if he had ever seen Polly dancing with the goat, his + bursting into uproarious laughter completely turned the current of opinion + against him. The public mind, however, soon became engrossed by a more + interesting incident. + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Mr. Withholder had organized a series of Biblical tableaux at + Skinnerstown for the benefit of his church. Illustrations were to be given + of “Rebecca at the Well,” “The Finding of Moses,” “Joseph and his + Brethren;” but Rocky Canyon was more particularly excited by the + announcement that Polly Harkness would personate “Jephthah's Daughter.” On + the evening of the performance, however, it was found that this tableau + had been withdrawn and another substituted, for reasons not given. Rocky + Canyon, naturally indignant at this omission to represent native talent, + indulged in a hundred wild surmises. But it was generally believed that + Jack Filgee's revengeful animosity to the Reverend Mr. Withholder was at + the bottom of it. Jack, as usual, smiled inanely, but nothing was to be + got from him. It was not until a few days later, when another incident + crowned the climax of these mysteries, that a full disclosure came from + his lips. + </p> + <p> + One morning a flaming poster was displayed at Rocky Canyon, with a + charming picture of the “Sacramento Pet” in the briefest of skirts, + disporting with a tambourine before a goat garlanded with flowers, who + bore, however, an undoubted likeness to Billy. The text in enormous + letters, and bristling with points of admiration, stated that the “Pet” + would appear as “Esmeralda,” assisted by a performing goat, especially + trained by the gifted actress. The goat would dance, play cards, and + perform those tricks of magic familiar to the readers of Victor Hugo's + beautiful story of the “Hunchback of Notre Dame,” and finally knock down + and overthrow the designing seducer, Captain Phoebus. The marvelous + spectacle would be produced under the patronage of the Hon. Colonel + Starbottle and the Mayor of Skinnerstown. + </p> + <p> + As all Rocky Canyon gathered open-mouthed around the poster, Jack demurely + joined the group. Every eye was turned upon him. + </p> + <p> + “It don't look as if yer Polly was in THIS show, any more than she was in + the tablows,” said one, trying to conceal his curiosity under a slight + sneer. “She don't seem to be doin' any dancin'!” + </p> + <p> + “She never DID any dancin',” said Jack, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Never DID! Then what was all these yarns about her dancin' up at the + pass?” + </p> + <p> + “It was the Sacramento Pet who did all the dancin'; Polly only LENT the + goat. Ye see, the Pet kinder took a shine to Billy arter he bowled + Starbottle over thet day at the hotel, and she thought she might teach him + tricks. So she DID, doing all her teachin' and stage-rehearsin' up there + at the pass, so's to be outer sight, and keep this thing dark. She bribed + Polly to lend her the goat and keep her secret, and Polly never let on a + word to anybody but me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it was the Pet that Yuba Bill saw dancin' from the coach?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And that yer artist from New York painted as an 'Imp and Satire'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that's how Polly didn't show up in them tablows at Skinnerstown? It + was Withholder who kinder smelt a rat, eh? and found out it was only a + theayter gal all along that did the dancin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see,” said Jack, with affected hesitation, “thet's another + yarn. I don't know mebbe ez I oughter tell it. Et ain't got anything to do + with this advertisement o' the Pet, and might be rough on old man + Withholder! Ye mustn't ask me, boys.” + </p> + <p> + But there was that in his eye, and above all in this lazy procrastination + of the true humorist when he is approaching his climax, which rendered the + crowd clamorous and unappeasable. They WOULD have the story! + </p> + <p> + Seeing which, Jack leaned back against a rock with great gravity, put his + hands in his pockets, looked discontentedly at the ground, and began: “You + see, boys, old Parson Withholder had heard all these yarns about Polly and + thet trick-goat, and he kinder reckoned that she might do for some one of + his tablows. So he axed her if she'd mind standin' with the goat and a + tambourine for Jephthah's Daughter, at about the time when old Jeph comes + home, sailin' in and vowin' he'll kill the first thing he sees,—jest + as it is in the Bible story. Well, Polly didn't like to say it wasn't HER + that performed with the goat, but the Pet, for thet would give the Pet + dead away; so Polly agrees to come thar with the goat and rehearse the + tablow. Well, Polly's thar, a little shy; and Billy,—you bet HE'S + all there, and ready for the fun; but the darned fool who plays Jephthah + ain't worth shucks, and when HE comes in he does nothin' but grin at Polly + and seem skeert at the goat. This makes old Withholder jest wild, and at + last he goes on the platform hisself to show them how the thing oughter be + done. So he comes bustlin' and prancin' in, and ketches sight o' Polly + dancin' in with the goat to welcome him; and then he clasps his hands—so—and + drops on his knees, and hangs down his head—so—and sez, 'Me + chyld! me vow! Oh, heavens!' But jest then Billy—who's gettin' + rather tired o' all this foolishness—kinder slues round on his hind + legs, and ketches sight o' the parson!” Jack paused a moment, and + thrusting his hands still deeper in his pockets, said lazily, “I don't + know if you fellers have noticed how much old Withholder looks like + Billy?” + </p> + <p> + There was a rapid and impatient chorus of “Yes! yes!” and “Go on!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued Jack, “when Billy sees Withholder kneelin' thar with his + head down, he gives a kind o' joyous leap and claps his hoofs together, ez + much ez to say, 'I'm on in this scene,' drops his own head, and jest + lights out for the parson!” + </p> + <p> + “And butts him clean through the side scenes into the street,” interrupted + a delighted auditor. + </p> + <p> + But Jack's face never changed. “Ye think so?” he said gravely. “But thet's + jest whar ye slip up; and thet's jest whar Billy slipped up!” he added + slowly. “Mebbe ye've noticed, too, thet the parson's built kinder solid + about the head and shoulders. It mought hev be'n thet, or thet Billy + didn't get a fair start, but thet goat went down on his fore legs like a + shot, and the parson gave one heave, and jest scooted him off the + platform! Then the parson reckoned thet this yer 'tablow' had better be + left out, as thar didn't seem to be any other man who could play Jephthah, + and it wasn't dignified for HIM to take the part. But the parson allowed + thet it might be a great moral lesson to Billy!” + </p> + <p> + And it WAS, for from that moment Billy never attempted to butt again. He + performed with great docility later on in the Pet's engagement at + Skinnerstown; he played a distinguished role throughout the provinces; he + had had the advantages of Art from “the Pet,” and of Simplicity from + Polly, but only Rocky Canyon knew that his real education had come with + his first rehearsal with the Reverend Mr. Withholder. + </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> + DICK SPINDLER'S FAMILY CHRISTMAS + </h2> + <p> + There was surprise and sometimes disappointment in Rough and Ready, when + it was known that Dick Spindler intended to give a “family” Christmas + party at his own house. That he should take an early opportunity to + celebrate his good fortune and show hospitality was only expected from the + man who had just made a handsome “strike” on his claim; but that it should + assume so conservative, old-fashioned, and respectable a form was quite + unlooked-for by Rough and Ready, and was thought by some a trifle + pretentious. There were not half-a-dozen families in Rough and Ready; + nobody ever knew before that Spindler had any relations, and this “ringing + in” of strangers to the settlement seemed to indicate at least a lack of + public spirit. “He might,” urged one of his critics, “hev given the boys,—that + had worked alongside o' him in the ditches by day, and slung lies with him + around the camp-fire by night,—he might hev given them a square + 'blow out,' and kep' the leavin's for his old Spindler crew, just as other + families do. Why, when old man Scudder had his house-raisin' last year, + his family lived for a week on what was left over, arter the boys had + waltzed through the house that night,—and the Scudders warn't + strangers, either.” It was also evident that there was an uneasy feeling + that Spindler's action indicated an unhallowed leaning towards the + minority of respectability and exclusiveness, and a desertion—without + the excuse of matrimony—of the convivial and independent bachelor + majority of Rough and Ready. + </p> + <p> + “Ef he was stuck after some gal and was kinder looking ahead, I'd hev + understood it,” argued another critic. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ye be too sure he ain't,” said Uncle Jim Starbuck gloomily. “Ye'll + find that some blamed woman is at the bottom of this yer 'family' + gathering. That and trouble ez almost all they're made for!” + </p> + <p> + There happened to be some truth in this dark prophecy, but none of the + kind that the misogynist supposed. In fact, Spindler had called a few + evenings before at the house of the Rev. Mr. Saltover, and Mrs. Saltover, + having one of her “Saleratus headaches,” had turned him over to her widow + sister, Mrs. Huldy Price, who obediently bestowed upon him that practical + and critical attention which she divided with the stocking she was + darning. She was a woman of thirty-five, of singular nerve and practical + wisdom, who had once smuggled her wounded husband home from a border + affray, calmly made coffee for his deceived pursuers while he lay hidden + in the loft, walked four miles for that medical assistance which arrived + too late to save him, buried him secretly in his own “quarter section,” + with only one other witness and mourner, and so saved her position and + property in that wild community, who believed he had fled. There was very + little of this experience to be traced in her round, fresh-colored + brunette cheek, her calm black eyes, set in a prickly hedge of stiff + lashes, her plump figure, or her frank, courageous laugh. The latter + appeared as a smile when she welcomed Mr. Spindler. “She hadn't seen him + for a coon's age,” but “reckoned he was busy fixin' up his new house.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes,” said Spindler, with a slight hesitation, “ye see, I'm + reckonin' to hev a kinder Christmas gatherin' of my”—he was about to + say “folks,” but dismissed it for “relations,” and finally settled upon + “relatives” as being more correct in a preacher's house. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price thought it a very good idea. Christmas was the natural season + for the family to gather to “see who's here and who's there, who's gettin' + on and who isn't, and who's dead and buried. It was lucky for them who + were so placed that they could do so and be joyful.” Her invincible + philosophy probably carried her past any dangerous recollections of the + lonely grave in Kansas, and holding up the stocking to the light, she + glanced cheerfully along its level to Mr. Spindler's embarrassed face by + the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can't say much ez to that,” responded Spindler, still awkwardly, + “for you see I don't know much about it anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “How long since you've seen 'em?” asked Mrs. Price, apparently addressing + herself to the stocking. + </p> + <p> + Spindler gave a weak laugh. “Well, you see, ef it comes to that, I've + never seen 'em!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price put the stocking in her lap and opened her direct eyes on + Spindler. “Never seen 'em?” she repeated. “Then, they're not near + relations?” + </p> + <p> + “There are three cousins,” said Spindler, checking them off on his + fingers, “a half-uncle, a kind of brother-in-law,—that is, the + brother of my sister-in-law's second husband,—and a niece. That's + six.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you've not seen them, I suppose they've corresponded with you?” + said Mrs. Price. + </p> + <p> + “They've nearly all of 'em written to me for money, seeing my name in the + paper ez hevin' made a strike,” returned Spindler simply; “and hevin' sent + it, I jest know their addresses.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mrs. Price, returning to the stocking. + </p> + <p> + Something in the tone of her ejaculation increased Spindler's + embarrassment, but it also made him desperate. “You see, Mrs. Price,” he + blurted out, “I oughter tell ye that I reckon they are the folks that + 'hevn't got on,' don't you see, and so it seemed only the square thing for + me, ez had 'got on,' to give them a sort o' Christmas festival. Suthin', + don't ye know, like what your brother-in-law was sayin' last Sunday in the + pulpit about this yer peace and goodwill 'twixt man and man.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price looked again at the man before her. His sallow, perplexed face + exhibited some doubt, yet a certain determination, regarding the prospect + the quotation had opened to him. “A very good idea, Mr. Spindler, and one + that does you great credit,” she said gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I'm mighty glad to hear you say so, Mrs. Price,” he said, with an accent + of great relief, “for I reckoned to ask you a great favor! You see,” he + fell into his former hesitation, “that is—the fact is—that + this sort o' thing is rather suddent to me,—a little outer my line, + don't you see, and I was goin' to ask ye ef you'd mind takin' the hull + thing in hand and runnin it for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Running it for you,” said Mrs. Price, with a quick eye-shot from under + the edge of her lashes. “Man alive! What are you thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + “Bossin' the whole job for me,” hurried on Spindler, with nervous + desperation. “Gettin' together all the things and makin' ready for 'em,—orderin' + in everythin' that's wanted, and fixin' up the rooms,—I kin step out + while you're doin' it,—and then helpin' me receivin' 'em, and + sittin' at the head o' the table, you know,—like ez ef you was the + mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Mrs. Price, with her frank laugh, “that's the duty of one of + your relations,—your niece, for instance,—or cousin, if one of + them is a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” persisted Spindler, “you see, they're strangers to me; I don't know + 'em, and I do you. You'd make it easy for 'em,—and for me,—don't + you see? Kinder introduce 'em,—don't you know? A woman of your + gin'ral experience would smooth down all them little difficulties,” + continued Spindler, with a vague recollection of the Kansas story, “and + put everybody on velvet. Don't say 'No,' Mrs. Price! I'm just kalkilatin' + on you.” + </p> + <p> + Sincerity and persistency in a man goes a great way with even the best of + women. Mrs. Price, who had at first received Spindler's request as an + amusing originality, now began to incline secretly towards it. And, of + course, began to suggest objections. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid it won't do,” she said thoughtfully, awakening to the fact + that it would do and could be done. “You see, I've promised to spend + Christmas at Sacramento with my nieces from Baltimore. And then there's + Mrs. Saltover and my sister to consult.” + </p> + <p> + But here Spindler's simple face showed such signs of distress that the + widow declared she would “think it over,”—a process which the + sanguine Spindler seemed to consider so nearly akin to talking it over + that Mrs. Price began to believe it herself, as he hopefully departed. + </p> + <p> + She “thought it over” sufficiently to go to Sacramento and excuse herself + to her nieces. But here she permitted herself to “talk it over,” to the + infinite delight of those Baltimore girls, who thought this extravaganza + of Spindler's “so Californian and eccentric!” So that it was not strange + that presently the news came back to Rough and Ready, and his old + associates learned for the first time that he had never seen his + relatives, and that they would be doubly strangers. This did not increase + his popularity; neither, I grieve to say, did the intelligence that his + relatives were probably poor, and that the Reverend Mr. Saltover had + approved of his course, and had likened it to the rich man's feast, to + which the halt and blind were invited. Indeed, the allusion was supposed + to add hypocrisy and a bid for popularity to Spindler's defection, for it + was argued that he might have feasted “Wall-eyed Joe” or “Tangle-foot + Billy,”—who had once been “chawed” by a bear while prospecting,—if + he had been sincere. Howbeit, Spindler's faith was oblivious to these + criticisms, in his joy at Mr. Saltover's adhesion to his plans and the + loan of Mrs. Price as a hostess. In fact, he proposed to her that the + invitation should also convey that information in the expression, “by the + kind permission of the Rev. Mr. Saltover,” as a guarantee of good faith, + but the widow would have none of it. The invitations were duly written and + dispatched. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose,” suggested Spindler, with a sudden lugubrious apprehension,—“suppose + they shouldn't come?” + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear of that,” said Mrs. Price, with a frank laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Or ef they was dead,” continued Spindler. + </p> + <p> + “They couldn't all be dead,” said the widow cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “I've written to another cousin by marriage,” said Spindler dubiously, “in + case of accident; I didn't think of him before, because he was rich.” + </p> + <p> + “And have you ever seen him either, Mr. Spindler?” asked the widow, with a + slight mischievousness. + </p> + <p> + “Lordy! No!” he responded, with unaffected concern. + </p> + <p> + Only one mistake was made by Mrs. Price in her arrangements for the party. + She had noticed what the simple-minded Spindler could never have + conceived,—the feeling towards him held by his old associates, and + had tactfully suggested that a general invitation should be extended to + them in the evening. + </p> + <p> + “You can have refreshments, you know, too, after the dinner, and games and + music.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the unsophisticated host, “won't the boys think I'm playing it + rather low down on them, so to speak, givin' 'em a kind o' second table, + as ef it was the tailings after a strike?” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” said Mrs. Price, with decision. “It's quite fashionable in San + Francisco, and just the thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + To this decision Spindler, in his blind faith in the widow's management, + weakly yielded. An announcement in the “Weekly Banner” that, “On Christmas + evening Richard Spindler, Esq., proposed to entertain his friends and + fellow citizens at an 'at home,' in his own residence,” not only widened + the breach between him and the “boys,” but awakened an active resentment + that only waited for an outlet. It was understood that they were all + coming; but that they should have “some fun out of it” which might not + coincide with Spindler's nor his relatives' sense of humor seemed a + foregone conclusion. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, too, subsequent events lent themselves to this irony of the + situation. + </p> + <p> + He was so obviously sincere in his intent, and, above all, seemed to place + such a pathetic reliance on her judgment, that she hesitated to let him + know the shock his revelation had given her. And what might his other + relations prove to be? Good Lord! Yet, oddly enough, she was so + prepossessed by him, and so fascinated by his very Quixotism, that it was + perhaps for these complex reasons that she said a little stiffly:— + </p> + <p> + “One of these cousins, I see, is a lady, and then there is your niece. Do + you know anything about them, Mr. Spindler?” + </p> + <p> + His face grew serious. “No more than I know of the others,” he said + apologetically. After a moment's hesitation he went on: “Now you speak of + it, it seems to me I've heard that my niece was di-vorced. But,” he added, + brightening up, “I've heard that she was popular.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price gave a short laugh, and was silent for a few minutes. Then this + sublime little woman looked up at him. What he might have seen in her eyes + was more than he expected, or, I fear, deserved. “Cheer up, Mr. Spindler,” + she said manfully. “I'll see you through this thing, don't you mind! But + don't you say anything about—about—this Vigilance Committee + business to anybody. Nor about your niece—it was your niece, wasn't + it?—being divorced. Charley (the late Mr. Price) had a queer sort of + sister, who—but that's neither here nor there! And your niece mayn't + come, you know; or if she does, you ain't bound to bring her out to the + general company.” + </p> + <p> + At parting, Spindler, in sheer gratefulness, pressed her hand, and + lingered so long over it that a little color sprang into the widow's brown + cheek. Perhaps a fresh courage sprang into her heart, too, for she went to + Sacramento the next day, previously enjoining Spindler on no account to + show any answers he might receive. At Sacramento her nieces flew to her + with confidences. + </p> + <p> + “We so wanted to see you, Aunt Huldy, for we've heard something so + delightful about your funny Christmas Party!” Mrs. Price's heart sank, but + her eyes snapped. “Only think of it! One of Mr. Spindler's long-lost + relatives—a Mr. Wragg—lives in this hotel, and papa knows him. + He's a sort of half-uncle, I believe, and he's just furious that Spindler + should have invited him. He showed papa the letter; said it was the + greatest piece of insolence in the world; that Spindler was an + ostentatious fool, who had made a little money and wanted to use him to + get into society; and the fun of the whole thing was that this half-uncle + and whole brute is himself a parvenu,—a vulgar, ostentatious + creature, who was only a”— + </p> + <p> + “Never mind what he was, Kate,” interrupted Mrs. Price hastily. “I call + his conduct a shame.” + </p> + <p> + “So do we,” said both girls eagerly. After a pause Kate clasped her knees + with her locked fingers, and rocking backwards and forwards, said, “Milly + and I have got an idea, and don't you say 'No' to it. We've had it ever + since that brute talked in that way. Now, through him, we know more about + this Mr. Spindler's family connections than you do; and we know all the + trouble you and he'll have in getting up this party. You understand? Now, + we first want to know what Spindler's like. Is he a savage, bearded + creature, like the miners we saw on the boat?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price said that, on the contrary, he was very gentle, soft-spoken, + and rather good-looking. + </p> + <p> + “Young or old?” + </p> + <p> + “Young,—in fact, a mere boy, as you may judge from his actions,” + returned Mrs. Price, with a suggestive matronly air. + </p> + <p> + Kate here put up a long-handled eyeglass to her fine gray eyes, fitted it + ostentatiously over her aquiline nose, and then said, in a voice of + simulated horror, “Aunt Huldy,—this revelation is shocking!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price laughed her usual frank laugh, albeit her brown cheek took upon + it a faint tint of Indian red. “If that's the wonderful idea you girls + have got, I don't see how it's going to help matters,” she said dryly. + </p> + <p> + “No, that's not it? We really have an idea. Now look here.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Price “looked here.” This process seemed to the superficial observer + to be merely submitting her waist and shoulders to the arms of her nieces, + and her ears to their confidential and coaxing voices. + </p> + <p> + Twice she said “it couldn't be thought of,” and “it was impossible;” once + addressed Kate as “You limb!” and finally said that she “wouldn't promise, + but might write!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It was two days before Christmas. There was nothing in the air, sky, or + landscape of that Sierran slope to suggest the season to the Eastern + stranger. A soft rain had been dropping for a week on laurel, pine, and + buckeye, and the blades of springing grasses and shyly opening flowers. + Sedate and silent hillsides that had grown dumb and parched towards the + end of the dry season became gently articulate again; there were murmurs + in hushed and forgotten canyons, the leap and laugh of water among the dry + bones of dusty creeks, and the full song of the larger forks and rivers. + Southwest winds brought the warm odor of the pine sap swelling in the + forest, or the faint, far-off spice of wild mustard springing in the lower + valleys. But, as if by some irony of Nature, this gentle invasion of + spring in the wild wood brought only disturbance and discomfort to the + haunts and works of man. The ditches were overflowed, the fords of the + Fork impassable, the sluicing adrift, and the trails and wagon roads to + Rough and Ready knee-deep in mud. The stage-coach from Sacramento, + entering the settlement by the mountain highway, its wheels and panels + clogged and crusted with an unctuous pigment like mud and blood, passed + out of it through the overflowed and dangerous ford, and emerged in + spotless purity, leaving its stains behind with Rough and Ready. A week of + enforced idleness on the river “Bar” had driven the miners to the more + comfortable recreation of the saloon bar, its mirrors, its florid + paintings, its armchairs, and its stove. The steam of their wet boots and + the smoke of their pipes hung over the latter like the sacrificial incense + from an altar. But the attitude of the men was more critical and + censorious than contented, and showed little of the gentleness of the + weather or season. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear if the stage brought down any more relations of Spindler's?” + </p> + <p> + The barkeeper, to whom this question was addressed, shifted his lounging + position against the bar and said, “I reckon not, ez far ez I know.” + </p> + <p> + “And that old bloat of a second cousin—that crimson beak—what + kem down yesterday,—he ain't bin hangin' round here today for his + reg'lar pizon?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the barkeeper thoughtfully, “I reckon Spindler's got him locked + up, and is settin' on him to keep him sober till after Christmas, and + prevent you boys gettin' at him.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll have the jimjams before that,” returned the first speaker; “and how + about that dead beat of a half-nephew who borrowed twenty dollars of Yuba + Bill on the way down, and then wanted to get off at Shootersvilie, but + Bill wouldn't let him, and scooted him down to Spindler's and collected + the money from Spindler himself afore he'd give him up?” + </p> + <p> + “He's up thar with the rest of the menagerie,” said the barkeeper, “but I + reckon that Mrs. Price hez bin feedin' him up. And ye know the old woman—that + fifty-fifth cousin by marriage—whom Joe Chandler swears he remembers + ez an old cook for a Chinese restaurant in Stockton,—darn my skin ef + that Mrs. Price hasn't rigged her out in some fancy duds of her own, and + made her look quite decent.” + </p> + <p> + A deep groan here broke from Uncle Jim Starbuck. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell ye?” he said, turning appealingly to the others. “It's that + darned widow that's at the bottom of it all! She first put Spindler up to + givin' the party, and now, darn my skin, ef she ain't goin to fix up these + ragamuffins and drill 'em so we can't get any fun outer 'em after all! And + it's bein' a woman that's bossin' the job, and not Spindler, we've got to + draw things mighty fine and not cut up too rough, or some of the boys will + kick.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet,” said a surly but decided voice in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “And,” said another voice, “Mrs. Price didn't live in 'Bleeding Kansas' + for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's the programme you've settled on, Uncle Jim?” said the barkeeper + lightly, to check what seemed to promise a dangerous discussion. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Starbuck, “we kalkilate to gather early Christmas night in + Hooper's Hollow and rig ourselves up Injun fashion, and then start for + Spindler's with pitch-pine torches, and have a 'torchlight dance' around + the house; them who does the dancin' and yellin' outside takin' their turn + at goin' in and hevin' refreshment. Jake Cooledge, of Boston, sez if + anybody objects to it, we've only got to say we're 'Mummers of the Olden + Times,' sabe? Then, later, we'll have 'Them Sabbath Evening Bells' + performed on prospectin' pans by the band. Then, at the finish, Jake + Cooledge is goin' to give one of his surkastic speeches,—kinder + welcomin' Spindler's family to the Free Openin' o' Spindler's Almshouse + and Reformatory.” He paused, possibly for that approbation which, however, + did not seem to come spontaneously. “It ain't much,” he added + apologetically, “for we're hampered by women; but we'll add to the + programme ez we see how things pan out. Ye see, from what we can hear, all + of Spindler's relations ain't on hand yet! We've got to wait, like in + elckshun times, for 'returns from the back counties.' Hello! What's that?” + </p> + <p> + It was the swish and splutter of hoofs on the road before the door. The + Sacramento coach! In an instant every man was expectant, and Starbuck + darted outside on the platform. Then there was the usual greeting and + bustle, the hurried ingress of thirsty passengers into the saloon, and a + pause. Uncle Jim returned, excitedly and pantingly. “Look yer, boys! Ef + this ain't the richest thing out! They say there's two more relations o' + Spindler's on the coach, come down as express freight, consigned,—d'ye + hear?—consigned to Spindler!” + </p> + <p> + “Stiffs, in coffins?” suggested an eager voice. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't get to hear more. But here they are.” + </p> + <p> + There was the sudden irruption of a laughing, curious crowd into the + bar-room, led by Yuba Bill, the driver. Then the crowd parted, and out of + their midst stepped two children, a boy and a girl, the oldest apparently + of not more than six years, holding each other's hands. They were coarsely + yet cleanly dressed, and with a certain uniform precision that suggested + formal charity. But more remarkable than all, around the neck of each was + a little steel chain, from which depended the regular check and label of + the powerful Express Company, Wells; Fargo & Co., and the words: “To + Richard Spindler.” “Fragile.” “With great care.” “Collect on delivery.” + Occasionally their little hands went up automatically and touched their + labels, as if to show them. They surveyed the crowd, the floor, the gilded + bar, and Yuba Bill without fear and without wonder. There was a pathetic + suggestion that they were accustomed to this observation. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Bobby,” said Yuba Bill, leaning back against the bar, with an air + half-paternal, half-managerial, “tell these gents how you came here.” + </p> + <p> + “By Wellth, Fargoth Expreth,” lisped Bobby. + </p> + <p> + “Whar from?” + </p> + <p> + “Wed Hill, Owegon.” + </p> + <p> + “Red Hill, Oregon? Why, it's a thousand miles from here,” said a + bystander. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon,” said Yuba Bill coolly, “they kem by stage to Portland, by + steamer to 'Frisco, steamer again to Stockton, and then by stage over the + whole line. Allers by Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express, from agent to + agent, and from messenger to messenger. Fact! They ain't bin tetched or + handled by any one but the Kempany's agents; they ain't had a line or + direction except them checks around their necks! And they've wanted for + nothin' else. Why, I've carried heaps o' treasure before, gentlemen, and + once a hundred thousand dollars in greenbacks, but I never carried + anythin' that was watched and guarded as them kids! Why, the division + inspector at Stockton wanted to go with 'em over the line; but Jim Bracy, + the messenger, said he'd call it a reflection on himself and resign, ef + they didn't give 'em to him with the other packages! Ye had a pretty good + time, Bobby, didn't ye? Plenty to eat and drink, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The two children laughed a little weak laugh, turned each other bashfully + around, and then looked up shyly at Yuba Bill and said, “Yeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where you are goin'?” asked Starbuck, in a constrained voice. + </p> + <p> + It was the little girl who answered quickly and eagerly:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to Krissmass and Sandy Claus.” + </p> + <p> + “To what?” asked Starbuck. + </p> + <p> + Here the boy interposed with a superior air:— + </p> + <p> + “Thee meanth Couthin Dick. He'th got Krithmath.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead.” + </p> + <p> + “And your father?” + </p> + <p> + “In orthpittal.” + </p> + <p> + There was a laugh somewhere on the outskirts of the crowd. Every one faced + angrily in that direction, but the laugher had disappeared. Yuba Bill, + however, sent his voice after him. “Yes, in hospital! Funny, ain't it?—amoosin' + place! Try it. Step over here, and in five minutes, by the living Hoky, + I'll qualify you for admission, and not charge you a cent!” He stopped, + gave a sweeping glance of dissatisfaction around him, and then, leaning + back against the bar, beckoned to some one near the door, and said in a + disgusted tone, “You tell these galoots how it happened, Bracy. They make + me sick!” + </p> + <p> + Thus appealed to, Bracy, the express messenger, stepped forward in Yuba + Bill's place. + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing particular, gentlemen,” he said, with a laugh, “only it + seems that some man called Spindler, who lives about here, sent an + invitation to the father of these children to bring his family to a + Christmas party. It wasn't a bad sort of thing for Spindler to do, + considering that they were his poor relations, though they didn't know him + from Adam,—was it?” He paused; several of the bystanders cleared + their throats, but said nothing. “At least,” resumed Bracy, “that's what + the boys up at Red Hill, Oregon, thought, when they heard of it. Well, as + the father was in hospital with a broken leg, and the mother only a few + weeks dead, the boys thought it mighty rough on these poor kids if they + were done out of their fun because they had no one to bring them. The boys + couldn't afford to go themselves, but they got a little money together, + and then got the idea of sendin' 'em by express. Our agent at Red Hill + tumbled to the idea at once; but he wouldn't take any money in advance, + and said he would send 'em 'C. O. D.' like any other package. And he did, + and here they are! That's all! And now, gentlemen, as I've got to deliver + them personally to this Spindler, and get his receipt and take off their + checks, I reckon we must toddle. Come, Bill, help take 'em up!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” said a dozen voices. A dozen hands were thrust into a dozen + pockets; I grieve to say some were regretfully withdrawn empty, for it was + a hard season in Rough and Ready. But the expressman stepped before them, + with warning, uplifted hand. + </p> + <p> + “Not a cent, boys,—not a cent! Wells, Fargo's Express Company don't + undertake to carry bullion with those kids, at least on the same + contract!” He laughed, and then looking around him, said confidentially in + a lower voice, which, however, was quite audible to the children, “There's + as much as three bags of silver in quarter and half dollars in my treasure + box in the coach that has been poured, yes, just showered upon them, ever + since they started, and have been passed over from agent to agent and + messenger to messenger,—enough to pay their passage from here to + China! It's time to say quits now. But bet your life, they are not going + to that Christmas party poor!” + </p> + <p> + He caught up the boy, as Yuba Bill lifted the little girl to his shoulder, + and both passed out. Then one by one the loungers in the bar-room silently + and awkwardly followed, and when the barkeeper turned back from putting + away his decanters and glasses, to his astonishment the room was empty. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Spindler's house, or “Spindler's Splurge,” as Rough and Ready chose to + call it, stood above the settlement, on a deforested hillside, which, + however, revenged itself by producing not enough vegetation to cover even + the few stumps that were ineradicable. A large wooden structure in the + pseudo-classic style affected by Westerners, with an incongruous cupola, + it was oddly enough relieved by a still more incongruous veranda extending + around its four sides, upheld by wooden Doric columns, which were already + picturesquely covered with flowering vines and sun-loving roses. Mr. + Spindler had trusted the furnishing of its interior to the same contractor + who had upholstered the gilded bar-room of the Eureka Saloon, and who had + apparently bestowed the same design and material, impartially, on each. + There were gilded mirrors all over the house and chilly marble-topped + tables, gilt plaster Cupids in the corners, and stuccoed lions “in the + way” everywhere. The tactful hands of Mrs. Price had screened some of + these with seasonable laurels, fir boughs, and berries, and had imparted a + slight Christmas flavor to the house. But the greater part of her time had + been employed in trying to subdue the eccentricities of Spindler's amazing + relations; in tranquilizing Mrs. “Aunt” Martha Spindler,—the elderly + cook before alluded to,—who was inclined to regard the gilded + splendors of the house as indicative of dangerous immorality; in + restraining “Cousin” Morley Hewlett from considering the dining-room + buffet as a bar for “intermittent refreshment;” and in keeping the + weak-minded nephew, Phinney Spindler, from shooting at bottles from the + veranda, wearing his uncle's clothes, or running up an account in his + uncle's name for various articles at the general stores. Yet the + unlooked-for arrival of the two children had been the one great + compensation and diversion for her. She wrote at once to her nieces a + brief account of her miraculous deliverance. “I think these poor children + dropped from the skies here to make our Christmas party possible, to say + nothing of the sympathy they have created in Rough and Ready for Spindler. + He is going to keep them as long as he can, and is writing to the father. + Think of the poor little tots traveling a thousand miles to 'Krissmass,' + as they call it!—though they were so well cared for by the + messengers that their little bodies were positively stuffed like quails. + So, you see, dear, we will be able to get along without airing your famous + idea. I'm sorry, for I know you're just dying to see it all.” + </p> + <p> + Whatever Kate's “idea” might have been, there certainly seemed now no need + of any extraneous aid to Mrs. Price's management. Christmas came at last, + and the dinner passed off without serious disaster. But the ordeal of the + reception of Rough and Ready was still to come. For Mrs. Price well knew + that although “the boys” were more subdued, and, indeed, inclined to + sympathize with their host's uncouth endeavor, there was still much in the + aspect of Spindler's relations to excite their sense of the ludicrous. + </p> + <p> + But here Fortune again favored the house of Spindler with a dramatic + surprise, even greater than the advent of the children had been. In the + change that had come over Rough and Ready, “the boys” had decided, out of + deference to the women and children, to omit the first part of their + programme, and had approached and entered the house as soberly and quietly + as ordinary guests. But before they had shaken hands with the host and + hostess, and seen the relations, the clatter of wheels was heard before + the open door, and its lights flashed upon a carriage and pair,—an + actual private carriage,—the like of which had not been seen since + the governor of the State had come down to open the new ditch! Then there + was a pause, the flash of the carriage lamps upon white silk, the light + tread of a satin foot on the veranda and in the hall, and the entrance of + a vision of loveliness! Middle-aged men and old dwellers of cities + remembered their youth; younger men bethought themselves of Cinderella and + the Prince! There was a thrill and a hush as this last guest—a + beautiful girl, radiant with youth and adornment—put a dainty glass + to her sparkling eye and advanced familiarly, with outstretched hand, to + Dick Spindler. Mrs. Price gave a single gasp, and drew back speechless. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Dick,” said a laughing contralto voice, which, indeed, somewhat + recalled Mrs. Price's own, in its courageous frankness, “I am so delighted + to come, even if a little late, and so sorry that Mr. M'Kenna could not + come on account of business.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody listened eagerly, but none more eagerly and surprisingly than + the host himself. M'Kenna! The rich cousin who had never answered the + invitation! And Uncle Dick! This, then, was his divorced niece! Yet even + in his astonishment he remembered that of course no one but himself and + Mrs. Price knew it,—and that lady had glanced discreetly away. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued the half-niece brightly. “I came from Sacramento with + some friends to Shootersville, and from thence I drove here; and though I + must return to-night, I could not forego the pleasure of coming, if it was + only for an hour or two, to answer the invitation of the uncle I have not + seen for years.” She paused, and, raising her glasses, turned a politely + questioning eye towards Mrs. Price. “One of our relations?” she said + smilingly to Spindler. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Spindler, with some embarrassment, “a—a friend!” + </p> + <p> + The half-niece extended her hand. Mrs. Price took it. + </p> + <p> + But the fair stranger,—what she did and said were the only things + remembered in Rough and Ready on that festive occasion; no one thought of + the other relations; no one recalled them nor their eccentricities; + Spindler himself was forgotten. People only recollected how Spindler's + lovely niece lavished her smiles and courtesies on every one, and brought + to her feet particularly the misogynist Starbuck and the sarcastic + Cooledge, oblivious of his previous speech; how she sat at the piano and + sang like an angel, hushing the most hilarious and excited into + sentimental and even maudlin silence; how, graceful as a nymph, she led + with “Uncle Dick” a Virginia reel until the whole assembly joined, eager + for a passing touch of her dainty hand in its changes; how, when two hours + had passed,—all too swiftly for the guests,—they stood with + bared heads and glistening eyes on the veranda to see the fairy coach + whirl the fairy princess away! How—but this incident was never known + to Rough and Ready. + </p> + <p> + It happened in the sacred dressing-room, where Mrs. Price was cloaking + with her own hands the departing half-niece of Mr. Spindler. Taking that + opportunity to seize the lovely relative by the shoulders and shake her + violently, she said: “Oh, yes, and it's all very well for you, Kate, you + limb! For you're going away, and will never see Rough and Ready and poor + Spindler again. But what am I to do, miss? How am I to face it out? For + you know I've got to tell him at least that you're no half-niece of his!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you?” said the young lady. + </p> + <p> + “Have I?” repeated the widow impatiently. “Have I? Of course I have! What + are you thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking, aunty,” said the girl audaciously, “that from what I've + seen and heard to-night, if I'm not his half-niece now, it's only a + question of time! So you'd better wait. Good-night, dear.” + </p> + <p> + And, really,—it turned out that she was right! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHEN THE WATERS WERE UP AT “JULES'” + </h2> + <p> + When the waters were up at “Jules'” there was little else up on that + monotonous level. For the few inhabitants who calmly and methodically + moved to higher ground, camping out in tents until the flood had subsided, + left no distracting wreckage behind them. A dozen half-submerged log + cabins dotted the tranquil surface of the waters, without ripple or + disturbance, looking in the moonlight more like the ruins of centuries + than of a few days. There was no current to sap their slight foundations + or sweep them away; nothing stirred that silent lake but the occasional + shot-like indentations of a passing raindrop, or, still more rarely, a + raft, made of a single log, propelled by some citizen on a tour of + inspection of his cabin roof-tree, where some of his goods were still + stored. There was no sense of terror in this bland obliteration of the + little settlement; the ruins of a single burnt-up cabin would have been + more impressive than this stupid and even grotesquely placid effect of the + rival destroying element. People took it naturally; the water went as it + had come,—slowly, impassively, noiselessly; a few days of fervid + Californian sunshine dried the cabins, and in a week or two the red dust + lay again as thickly before their doors as the winter mud had lain. The + waters of Rattlesnake Creek dropped below its banks, the stage-coach from + Marysville no longer made a detour of the settlement. There was even a + singular compensation to this amicable invasion; the inhabitants sometimes + found gold in those breaches in the banks made by the overflow. To wait + for the “old Rattlesnake sluicing” was a vernal hope of the trusting + miner. + </p> + <p> + The history of “Jules',” however, was once destined to offer a singular + interruption of this peaceful and methodical process. The winter of + 1859-60 was an exceptional one. But little rain had fallen in the valleys, + although the snow lay deep in the high Sierras. Passes were choked, + ravines filled, and glaciers found on their slopes. And when the tardy + rains came with the withheld southwesterly “trades,” the regular + phenomenon recurred; Jules' Flat silently, noiselessly, and peacefully + went under water; the inhabitants moved to the higher ground, perhaps a + little more expeditiously from an impatience born of the delay. The + stagecoach from Marysville made its usual detour and stopped before the + temporary hotel, express offices, and general store of “Jules',” under + canvas, bark, and the limp leaves of a spreading alder. It deposited a + single passenger,—Miles Hemmingway, of San Francisco, but originally + of Boston,—the young secretary of a mining company, dispatched to + report upon the alleged auriferous value of “Jules'.” Of this he had been + by no means impressed as he looked down upon the submerged cabins from the + box-seat of the coach and listened to the driver's lazy recital of the + flood, and of the singularly patient acceptance of it by the inhabitants. + </p> + <p> + It was the old story of the southwestern miner's indolence and + incompetency,—utterly distasteful to his northern habits of thought + and education. Here was their old fatuous endurance of Nature's wild + caprices, without that struggle against them which brought others strength + and success; here was the old philosophy which accepted the prairie fire + and cyclone, and survived them without advancement, yet without repining. + Perhaps in different places and surroundings a submission so stoic might + have impressed him; in gentlemen who tucked their dirty trousers in their + muddy boots and lived only for the gold they dug, it did not seem to him + heroic. Nor was he mollified as he stood beside the rude refreshment bar—a + few planks laid on trestles—and drank his coffee beneath the + dripping canvas roof, with an odd recollection of his boyhood and an + inclement Sunday-school picnic. Yet these men had been living in this + shiftless fashion for three weeks! It exasperated him still more to think + that he might have to wait there a few days longer for the water to + subside sufficiently for him to make his examination and report. As he + took a proffered seat on a candle-box, which tilted under him, and another + survey of the feeble makeshifts around him, his irascibility found vent. + </p> + <p> + “Why, in the name of God, didn't you, after you had been flooded out ONCE, + build your cabins PERMANENTLY on higher ground?” + </p> + <p> + Although the tone of his voice was more disturbing than his question, it + pleased one of the loungers to affect to take it literally. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ez you've put it that way,—'in the name of God!'”—returned + the man lazily, “it mout hev struck us that ez HE was bossin' the job, so + to speak, and handlin' things round here generally, we might leave it to + Him. It wasn't OUR flood to monkey with.” + </p> + <p> + “And as He didn't coven-ant, so to speak, to look arter this higher ground + 'speshally, and make an Ararat of it for us, ez far ez we could see, we + didn't see any reason for SETTLIN' yer,” put in a second speaker, with + equal laziness. + </p> + <p> + The secretary saw his mistake instantly, and had experience enough of + Western humor not to prolong the disadvantage of his unfortunate + adjuration. He colored slightly and said, with a smile, “You know what I + mean; you could have protected yourselves better. A levee on the bank + would have kept you clear of the highest watermark.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey you ever heard WHAT the highest watermark was?” said the first + speaker, turning to another of the loungers without looking at the + secretary. + </p> + <p> + “Never heard it,—didn't know there was a limit before,” responded + the man. + </p> + <p> + The first speaker turned back to the secretary. “Did you ever know what + happened at 'Bulger's,' on the North Fork? They had one o' them levees.” + </p> + <p> + “No. What happened?” asked the secretary impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “They was fixed suthin' like us,” returned the first speaker. “THEY + allowed they'd build a levee above THEIR highest watermark, and did. It + worked like a charm at first; but the water hed to go somewhere, and it + kinder collected at the first bend. Then it sorter raised itself on its + elbows one day, and looked over the levee down upon whar some of the boys + was washin' quite comf'ble. Then it paid no sorter attention to the limit + o' that high watermark, but went six inches better! Not slow and quiet + like ez it useter to, ez it does HERE, kinder fillin' up from below, but + went over with a rush and a current, hevin' of course the whole height of + the levee to fall on t'other side where the boys were sluicing.” He + paused, and amidst a profound silence added, “They say that 'Bulger's' was + scattered promiscuous-like all along the fort for five miles. I only know + that one of his mules and a section of sluicing was picked up at Red Flat, + eight miles away!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hemmingway felt that there WAS an answer to this, but, being wise, + also felt that it would be unavailing. He smiled politely and said + nothing, at which the first speaker turned to him:— + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't anything to see to-day, but to-morrow, ez things go, the water + oughter be droppin'. Mebbe you'd like to wash up now and clean yourself,” + he added, with a glance at Hemmingway's small portmanteau. “Ez we thought + you'd likely be crowded here, we've rigged up a corner for you at + Stanton's shanty with the women.” + </p> + <p> + The young man's cheek flushed slightly at some possible irony in this, and + he protested with considerable stress that he was quite ready “to rough + it” where he was. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon it's already fixed,” returned the man decisively, “so you'd + better come and I'll show you the way.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment,” said Hemmingway, with a smile; “my credentials are addressed + to the manager of the Boone Ditch Company at 'Jules'.' Perhaps I ought to + see him first.” + </p> + <p> + “All right; he's Stanton.” + </p> + <p> + “And”—hesitated the secretary, “YOU, who appear to understand the + locality so well,—I trust I may have the pleasure”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm Jules.” + </p> + <p> + The secretary was a little startled and amused. So “Jules” was a person, + and not a place! + </p> + <p> + “Then you're a pioneer?” asked Hemmingway, a little less dictatorially, as + they passed out under the dripping trees. + </p> + <p> + “I struck this creek in the fall of '49, comin' over Livermore's Pass with + Stanton,” returned Jules, with great brevity of speech and deliberate + tardiness of delivery. “Sent for my wife and two children the next year; + wife died same winter, change bein' too sudden for her, and contractin' + chills and fever at Sweetwater. When I kem here first thar wasn't six + inches o' water in the creek; out there was a heap of it over there where + you see them yallowish-green patches and strips o' brush and grass; all + that war water then, and all that growth hez sprung up since.” + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway looked around him. The “higher ground” where they stood was in + reality only a mound-like elevation above the dead level of the flat, and + the few trees were merely recent young willows and alders. The area of + actual depression was much greater than he had imagined, and its + resemblance to the bed of some prehistoric inland sea struck him forcibly. + A previous larger inundation than Jules' brief experience had ever known + had been by no means improbable. His cheek reddened at his previous hasty + indictment of the settlers' ignorance and shiftlessness, and the thought + that he had probably committed his employers to his own rash confidence + and superiority of judgment. However, there was no evidence that this + diluvial record was not of the remote past. He smiled again with greater + security as he thought of the geological changes that had since tempered + these cataclysms, and the amelioration brought by settlement and + cultivation. Nevertheless, he would make a thorough examination to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + Stanton's cabin was the furthest of these temporary habitations, and was + partly on the declivity which began to slope to the river's bank. It was, + like the others, a rough shanty of unplaned boards, but, unlike the + others, it had a base of logs laid lengthwise on the ground and parallel + with each other, on which the flooring and structure were securely + fastened. This gave it the appearance of a box slid on runners, or a + Noah's Ark whose bulk had been reduced. Jules explained that the logs, + laid in that manner, kept the shanty warmer and free from damp. In reply + to Hemmingway's suggestion that it was a great waste of material, Jules + simply replied that the logs were the “flotsam and jetsam” of the creek + from the overflowed mills below. + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway again smiled. It was again the old story of Western waste and + prodigality. Accompanied by Jules, however, he climbed up the huge, + slippery logs which made a platform before the door, and entered. + </p> + <p> + The single room was unequally divided; the larger part containing three + beds, by day rolled in a single pile in one corner to make room for a + table and chairs. A few dresses hanging from nails on the wall showed that + it was the women's room. The smaller compartment was again subdivided by a + hanging blanket, behind which was a rude bunk or berth against the wall, a + table made of a packing-box, containing a tin basin and a can of water. + This was his apartment. + </p> + <p> + “The women-folks are down the creek, bakin', to-day,” said Jules + explanatorily; “but I reckon that one of 'em will be up here in a jiffy to + make supper, so you just take it easy till they come. I've got to meander + over to the claim afore I turn in, but you just lie by to-night and take a + rest.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away, leaving Hemmingway standing in the doorway still + distraught and hesitating. Nor did the young man recognize the delicacy of + Jules' leave-taking until he had unstrapped his portmanteau and found + himself alone, free to make his toilet, unembarrassed by company. But even + then he would have preferred the rough companionship of the miners in the + common dormitory of the general store to this intrusion upon the + half-civilization of the women, their pitiable little comforts and secret + makeshifts. His disgust of his own indecision which brought him there + naturally recoiled in the direction of his host and hostesses, and after a + hurried ablution, a change of linen, and an attempt to remove the stains + of travel from his clothes, he strode out impatiently into the open air + again. + </p> + <p> + It was singularly mild even for the season. The southwest trades blew + softly, and whispered to him of San Francisco and the distant Pacific, + with its long, steady swell. He turned again to the overflowed Flat + beneath him, and the sluggish yellow water that scarcely broke a ripple + against the walls of the half-submerged cabins. And this was the water for + whose going down they were waiting with an immobility as tranquil as the + waters themselves! What marvelous incompetency,—or what infinite + patience! He knew, of course, their expected compensation in this “ground + sluicing” at Nature's own hand; the long rifts in the banks of the creek + which so often showed “the color” in the sparkling scales of river gold + disclosed by the action of the water; the heaps of reddish mud left after + its subsidence around the walls of the cabins,—a deposit that often + contained a treasure a dozen times more valuable than the cabin itself! + And then he heard behind him a laugh, a short and panting breath, and + turning, beheld a young woman running towards him. + </p> + <p> + In his first astounded sight of her, in her limp nankeen sunbonnet, thrown + back from her head by the impetus of her flight, he saw only too much + hair, two much white teeth, too much eye-flash, and, above all,—as + it appeared to him,—too much confidence in the power of these + qualities. Even as she ran, it seemed to him that she was pulling down + ostentatiously the rolled-up sleeves of her pink calico gown over her + shapely arms. I am inclined to think that the young gentleman's temper was + at fault, and his conclusion hasty; a calmer observer would have detected + nothing of this in her frankly cheerful voice. Nevertheless, her evident + pleasure in the meeting seemed to him only obtrusive coquetry. + </p> + <p> + “Lordy! I reckoned to git here afore you'd get through fixin' up, and in + time to do a little prinkin' myself, and here you're out already.” She + laughed, glancing at his clean shirt and damp hair. “But all the same, we + kin have a talk, and you kin tell me all the news afore the other wimmen + get up here. It's a coon's age since I was at Sacramento and saw anybody + or anything.” She stopped and, instinctively detecting some vague + reticence in the man before her, said, still laughing, “You're Mr. + Hemmingway, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway took off his hat quickly, with a slight start at his + forgetfulness. “I beg your pardon; yes, certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunty Stanton thought it was 'Hummingbird,'” said the girl, with a laugh, + “but I reckoned not. I'm Jinney Jules, you know; folks call me 'J. J.' It + wouldn't do for a Hummingbird and a Jay Jay to be in the same camp, would + it? It would be just TOO funny!” + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway did not find the humor of this so singularly exhaustive, but he + was already beginning to be ashamed of his attitude towards her. “I'm very + sorry to be giving you all this trouble by my intrusion, for I was quite + willing to stay at the store yonder. Indeed,” he added, with a burst of + frankness quite as sincere as her own, “if you think your father will not + be offended, I would gladly go there now.” + </p> + <p> + If he still believed in her coquetry and vanity, he would have been + undeceived and crushed by the equal and sincere frankness with which she + met this ungallant speech. + </p> + <p> + “No! I reckon he wouldn't care, if you'd be as comf'ble and fit for + to-morrow. But ye WOULDN'T,” she said reflectively. “The boys thar sit up + late over euchre, and swear a heap, and Simpson, who'd sleep alongside of + ye, snores pow'ful, I've heard. Aunty Stanton kin do her level at that, + too, and they say”—with a laugh—“that I kin, too, but you're + away off in that corner, and it won't reach you. So, takin' it all, by the + large, you'd better stay whar ye are. We wimmen, that is, the most of us, + will be off and away down to Rattlesnake Bar shoppin' afore sun up, so + ye'll sleep ez long ez ye want to, and find yer breakfast ready when ye + wake. So I'll jest set to and get ye some supper, and ye kin tell me all + the doin's in Sacramento and 'Frisco while I'm workin'.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of her unconscious rebuff to his own vanity, Hemmingway felt a + sense of relief and less constraint in his relations to this decidedly + provincial hostess. + </p> + <p> + “Can I help you in any way?” he asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ye MIGHT bring me an armful o' wood from the pile under the alders, + ef ye ain't afraid o' dirtyin' your coat,” she said tentatively. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hemmingway was not afraid; he declared himself delighted. He brought a + generous armful of small cut willow boughs, and deposited them before a + small stove, which seemed a temporary substitute for the usual large adobe + chimney that generally occupied the entire gable of a miner's cabin. An + elbow and short length of stovepipe carried the smoke through the cabin + side. But he also noticed that his fair companion had used the interval to + put on a pair of white cuffs and a collar. However, she brushed the green + moss from his sleeve with some toweling, and although this operation + brought her so near to him that her breath—as soft and warm as the + southwest trades—stirred his hair, it was evident that this + contiguity was only frontier familiarity, as far removed from conscious + coquetry as it was, perhaps, from educated delicacy. + </p> + <p> + “The boys gin'rally kem to take up enough wood for me to begin with,” she + said, “but I reckon they didn't know I was comin' up so soon.” + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway's distrust returned a little at this obvious suggestion that he + was only a substitute for their general gallantry, but he smiled and said + somewhat bluntly, “I don't suppose you lack for admirers here.” + </p> + <p> + The girl, however, took him literally. “Lordy, no! Me and Mamie Robinson + are the only girls for fifteen miles along the creek. ADMIRIN'! I call it + jest PESTERIN' sometimes! I reckon I'll hev to keep a dog!” + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway shivered. Yes, she was not only conscious, but spoilt already. + He pictured to himself the uncouth gallantries of the settlement, the + provincial badinage, the feeble rivalries of the young men whom he had + seen at the general store. Undoubtedly this was what she was expecting in + HIM! + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, turning from the fire she had kindled, “while I'm + settin' the table, tell me what's a-doin' in Sacramento! I reckon you've + got heaps of lady friends thar,—I'm told there's lots of fashions + just from the States.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I don't know enough of them to interest you,” he said dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Go on and talk,” she replied. “Why, when Tom Flynn kem back from + Sacramento, and he warn't thar more nor a week, he jest slung yarns about + his doin's thar to last the hull rainy season.” + </p> + <p> + Half amused and half annoyed, Hemmingway seated himself on the little + platform beside the open door, and began a conscientious description of + the progress of Sacramento, its new buildings, hotels, and theatres, as it + had struck him on his last visit. For a while he was somewhat entertained + by the girl's vivacity and eager questioning, but presently it began to + pall. He continued, however, with a grim sense of duty, and partly as a + reason for watching her in her household duties. Certainly she was + graceful! Her tall, lithe, but beautifully moulded figure, even in its + characteristic southwestern indolence, fell into poses as picturesque as + they were unconscious. She lifted the big molasses-can from its shelf on + the rafters with the attitude of a Greek water-bearer. She upheaved the + heavy flour-sack to the same secure shelf with the upraised palms of an + Egyptian caryatid. Suddenly she interrupted Hemmingway's perfunctory talk + with a hearty laugh. He started, looked up from his seat on the platform, + and saw that she was standing over him and regarding him with a kind of + mischievous pity. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” she said, “I reckon that'll do! You kin pull up short! I kin + see what's the matter with you; you're jest plumb tired, tuckered out, and + want to turn in! So jest you sit that quiet until I get supper ready and + never mind me.” In vain Hemmingway protested, with a rising color. The + girl only shook her head. “Don't tell me! You ain't keering to talk, and + you're only playin' Sacramento statistics on me,” she retorted, with + unfeigned cheerfulness. “Anyhow, here's the wimmen comin', and supper is + ready.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of weary, resigned ejaculations and pantings, and three + gaunt women in lustreless alpaca gowns appeared before the cabin. They + seemed prematurely aged and worn with labor, anxiety, and ill nourishment. + Doubtless somewhere in these ruins a flower like Jay Jules had once + flourished; doubtless somewhere in that graceful nymph herself the germ of + this dreary maturity was hidden. Hemmingway welcomed them with a + seriousness equal to their own. The supper was partaken with the kind of + joyless formality which in the southwest is supposed to indicate deep + respect, even the cheerful Jay falling under the influence, and it was + with a feeling of relief that at last the young man retired to his + fenced-off corner for solitude and repose. He gathered, however, that + before “sun up” the next morning the elder women were going to Rattlesnake + Bar for the weekly shopping, leaving Jay as before to prepare his + breakfast and then join them later. It was already a change in his + sentiments to find himself looking forward to that tete-a-tete with the + young girl, as a chance of redeeming his character in her eyes. He was + beginning to feel he had been stupid, unready, and withal prejudiced. He + undressed himself in his seclusion, broken only by the monotonous voices + in the adjoining apartment. From time to time he heard fragments and + scraps of their conversation, always in reference to affairs of the + household and settlement, but never of himself,—not even the + suggestion of a prudent lowering of their voices,—and fell asleep. + He woke up twice in the night with a sensation of cold so marked and + distinct from his experience of the early evening, that he was fain to + pile his clothes over his blankets to keep warm. He fell asleep again, + coming once more to consciousness with a sense of a slight jar, but + relapsing again into slumber for he knew not how long. Then he was fully + awakened by a voice calling him, and, opening his eyes, beheld the blanket + partition put aside, and the face of Jay thrust forward. To his surprise + it wore a look of excited astonishment dominated by irrepressible + laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Get up quick as you kin,” she said gaspingly; “this is about the + killingest thing that ever happened!” + </p> + <p> + She disappeared, but he could still hear her laughing, and to his utter + astonishment with her disappearance the floor seemed to change its level. + A giddy feeling seized him; he put his feet to the floor; it was + unmistakably wet and oozing. He hurriedly clothed himself, still + accompanied by the strange feeling of oscillation and giddiness, and + passed though the opening into the next room. Again his step produced the + same effect upon the floor, and he actually stumbled against her shaking + figure, as she wiped the tears of uncontrollable mirth from her eyes with + her apron. The contact seemed to upset her remaining gravity. She dropped + into a chair, and, pointing to the open door, gasped, “Look thar! Lordy! + How's that for high?” threw her apron over her head, and gave way to an + uproarious fit of laughter. + </p> + <p> + Hemmingway turned to the open door. A lake was before him on the level of + the cabin. He stepped forward on the platform; the water was right and + left, all around him. The platform dipped slightly to his step. The cabin + was afloat,—afloat upon its base of logs like a raft, the whole + structure upheld by the floor on which the logs were securely fastened. + The high ground had disappeared—the river—its banks the green + area beyond. They, and THEY alone, were afloat upon an inland sea. + </p> + <p> + He turned an astounded and serious face upon her mirth. “When did it + happen?” he demanded. She checked her laugh, more from a sense of polite + deference to his mood than any fear, and said quietly, “That gets me. + Everything was all right two hours ago when the wimmen left. It was too + early to get your breakfast and rouse ye out, and I felt asleep, I reckon, + until I felt a kind o' slump and a jar.” Hemmingway remembered his own + half-conscious sensation. “Then I got up and saw we was adrift. I didn't + waken ye, for I thought it was only a sort of wave that would pass. It + wasn't until I saw we were movin' and the hull rising ground gettin' away, + that I thought o' callin' ye.” + </p> + <p> + He thought of the vanished general store, of her father, the workers on + the bank, the helpless women on their way to the Bar, and turned almost + savagely on her. + </p> + <p> + “But the others,—where are they?” he said indignantly. “Do you call + that a laughing matter?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped at the sound of his voice as at a blow. Her face hardened into + immobility, yet when she replied it was with the deliberate indolence of + her father. “The wimmen are up on the hills by this time. The boys hev bin + drowned out many times afore this and got clear off, on sluice boxes and + timber, without squealing. Tom Flynn went down ten miles to Sayer's once + on two bar'ls, and I never heard that HE was cryin' when they picked him + up.” + </p> + <p> + A flush came to Hemmingway's cheek, but with it a gleam of intelligence. + Of course the inundation was known to them FIRST, and there was the + wreckage to support them. They had clearly saved themselves. If they had + abandoned the cabin, it was because they knew its security, perhaps had + even seen it safely adrift. + </p> + <p> + “Has this ever happened to the cabin before?” he asked, as he thought of + its peculiar base. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at the water again. There was a decided current. The overflow + was evidently no part of the original inundation. He put his hand in the + water. It was icy cold. Yes, he understood it now. It was the sudden + melting of snow in the Sierras which had brought this volume down the + canyon. But was there more still to come? + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything like a long pole or stick in the cabin?” + </p> + <p> + “Nary,” said the girl, opening her big eyes and shaking her head with a + simulation of despair, which was, however, flatly contradicted by her + laughing mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Nor any cord or twine?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + She handed him a ball of coarse twine. + </p> + <p> + “May I take a couple of these hooks?” he asked, pointing to some rough + iron hooks in the rafters, on which bacon and jerked beef were hanging. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. He dislodged the hooks, greased them with the bacon rind, and + affixed them to the twine. + </p> + <p> + “Fishin'?” she asked demurely. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” he replied gravely. + </p> + <p> + He threw the line in the water. It slackened at about six feet, + straightened, and became taut at an angle, and then dragged. After one or + two sharp jerks he pulled it up. A few leaves and grasses were caught in + the hooks. He examined them attentively. + </p> + <p> + “We're not in the creek,” he said, “nor in the old overflow. There's no + mud or gravel on the hooks, and these grasses don't grow near water.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that's mighty cute of you,” she said admiringly, as she knelt beside + him on the platform. “Let's see what you've caught. Look yer!” she added, + suddenly lifting a limp stalk, “that's 'old man,' and thar ain't a scrap + of it grows nearer than Springer's Rise,—four miles from home.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” he asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Sure as pop! I used to go huntin' it for smellidge.” + </p> + <p> + “For what?” he said, with a bewildered smile. + </p> + <p> + “For this,”—she thrust the leaves to his nose and then to her own + pink nostrils; “for—for”—she hesitated, and then with a + mischievous simulation of correctness added, “for the perfume.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her admiringly. For all her five feet ten inches, what a mere + child she was, after all! What a fool he was to have taken a resentful + attitude towards her! How charming and graceful she looked, kneeling there + beside him! + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he said suddenly, in a gentler voice, “what were you laughing + at just now?” + </p> + <p> + Her brown eyes wavered for a moment, and then brimmed with merriment. She + threw herself sideways, in a leaning posture, supporting herself on one + arm, while with her other hand she slowly drew out her apron string, as + she said, in a demure voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, I reckoned it was jest too killin' to think of you, who didn't want + to talk to me, and would hev given your hull pile to hev skipped out o' + this, jest stuck here alongside o' me, whether you would or no, for Lord + knows how long!” + </p> + <p> + “But that was last night,” he said, in a tone of raillery. “I was tired, + and you said so yourself, you know. But I'm ready to talk now. What shall + I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Anything,” said the girl, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “What I am thinking of?” he said, with frankly admiring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, everything.” She stopped, and leaning forward, suddenly caught the + brim of his soft felt hat, and drawing it down smartly over his audacious + eyes, said, “Everything BUT THAT.” + </p> + <p> + It was with some difficulty and some greater embarrassment that he + succeeded in getting his eyes free again. When he did so, she had risen + and entered the cabin. Disconcerted as he was, he was relieved to see that + her expression of amusement was unchanged. Was her act a piece of rustic + coquetry, or had she resented his advances? Nor did her next words settle + the question. + </p> + <p> + “Ye kin do yer nice talk and philanderin' after we've settled whar we are, + what we're goin', and what's goin' to happen. Jest now it 'pears to me + that ez these yere logs are the only thing betwixt us and 'kingdom come,' + ye'd better be hustlin' round with a few spikes to clinch 'em to the + floor.” + </p> + <p> + She handed him a hammer and a few spikes. He obediently set to work, with + little confidence, however, in the security of the fastening. There was + neither rope nor chain for lashing the logs together; a stronger current + and a collision with some submerged stump or wreckage would loosen them + and wreck the cabin. But he said nothing. It was the girl who broke the + silence. + </p> + <p> + “What's your front name?” + </p> + <p> + “Miles.” + </p> + <p> + “MILES,—that's a funny name. I reckon that's why you war so FAR OFF + and DISTANT at first.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hemmingway thought this very witty, and said so. “But,” he added, + “when I was a little nearer a moment ago, you stopped me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you was moving faster than the shanty was. I reckon you don't take + that gait with your lady friends at Sacramento! However, you kin talk + now.” + </p> + <p> + “But you forget I don't know 'where we are,' nor 'what's going to + happen.'” + </p> + <p> + “But I do,” she said quietly. “In a couple of hours we'll be picked up, so + you'll be free again.” + </p> + <p> + Something in the confidence of her manner made him go to the door again + and look out. There was scarcely any current now, and the cabin seemed + motionless. Even the wind, which might have acted upon it, was wanting. + They were apparently in the same position as before, but his sounding-line + showed that the water was slightly falling. He came back and imparted the + fact with a certain confidence born of her previous praise of his + knowledge. To his surprise she only laughed and said lazily, “We'll be all + right, and you'll be free, in about two hours.” + </p> + <p> + “I see no sign of it,” he said, looking through the door again. + </p> + <p> + “That's because you're looking in the water and the sky and the mud for + it,” she said, with a laugh. “I reckon you've been trained to watch them + things a heap better than to study the folks about here.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay you're right,” said Hemmingway cheerfully, “but I don't clearly + see what the folks about here have to do with our situation just now.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll see,” she said, with a smile of mischievous mystery. “All the + same,” she added, with a sudden and dangerous softness in her eyes, “I + ain't sayin' that YOU ain't kinder right neither.” + </p> + <p> + An hour ago he would have laughed at the thought that a mere look and + sentence like this from the girl could have made his heart beat. “Then I + may go on and talk?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, but her eyes said, “Yes,” plainly. + </p> + <p> + He turned to take a chair near her. Suddenly the cabin trembled, there was + a sound of scraping, a bump, and then the whole structure tilted to one + side and they were both thrown violently towards the corner, with a swift + inrush of water. Hemmingway quickly caught the girl by the waist; she + clung to him instinctively, yet still laughing, as with a desperate effort + he succeeded in dragging her to the upper side of the slanting cabin, and + momentarily restoring its equilibrium. They remained for an instant + breathless. But in that instant he had drawn her face to his and kissed + her. + </p> + <p> + She disengaged herself gently with neither excitement nor emotion, and + pointing to the open door said, “Look there!” + </p> + <p> + Two of the logs which formed the foundation of their floor were quietly + floating in the water before the cabin! The submerged obstacle or snag + which had torn them from their fastening was still holding the cabin fast. + Hemmingway saw the danger. He ran along the narrow ledge to the point of + contact and unhesitatingly leaped into the icy cold water. It reached his + armpits before his feet struck the obstacle,—evidently a stump with + a projecting branch. Bracing himself against it, he shoved off the cabin. + But when he struck out to follow it, he found that the log nearest him was + loose and his grasp might tear it away. At the same moment, however, a + pink calico arm fluttered above his head, and a strong grasp seized his + coat collar. The cabin half revolved as the girl dragged him into the open + door. + </p> + <p> + “You bantam!” she said, with a laugh, “why didn't you let ME do that? I'm + taller than you! But,” she added, looking at his dripping clothes and + dragging out a blanket from the corner, “I couldn't dry myself as quick as + you kin!” To her surprise, however, Hemmingway tossed the blanket aside, + and pointing to the floor, which was already filmed with water, ran to the + still warm stove, detached it from its pipe, and threw it overboard. The + sack of flour, bacon, molasses, and sugar, and all the heavier articles + followed it into the stream. Relieved of their weight the cabin base rose + an inch or two higher. Then he sat down and said, “There! that may keep us + afloat for that 'couple of hours' you speak of. So I suppose I may talk + now!” + </p> + <p> + “Ye haven't no time,” she said, in a graver voice. “It won't be as long as + a couple of hours now. Look over thar!” + </p> + <p> + He looked where she pointed across the gray expanse of water. At first he + could see nothing. Presently he saw a mere dot on its face which at times + changed to a single black line. + </p> + <p> + “It's a log, like these,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It's no log. It's an Injun dug-out*—comin' for me.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * A canoe made from a hollowed log. +</pre> + <p> + “Your father?” he said joyfully. + </p> + <p> + She smiled pityingly. “It's Tom Flynn. Father's got suthin' else to look + arter. Tom Flynn hasn't.” + </p> + <p> + “And who's Tom Flynn?” he asked, with an odd sensation. + </p> + <p> + “The man I'm engaged to,” she said gravely, with a slight color. + </p> + <p> + The rose that blossomed on her cheek faded in his. There was a moment of + silence. Then he said frankly, “I owe you some apology. Forgive my folly + and impertinence a moment ago. How could I have known this?” + </p> + <p> + “You took no more than you deserved, or that Tom would have objected to,” + she said, with a little laugh. “You've been mighty kind and handy.” + </p> + <p> + She held out her hand; their fingers closed together in a frank pressure. + Then his mind went back to his work, which he had forgotten,—to his + first impressions of the camp and of her. They both stood silent, watching + the canoe, now quite visible, and the man that was paddling it, with an + intensity that both felt was insincere. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid,” he said, with a forced laugh, “that I was a little too hasty + in disposing of your goods and possessions. We could have kept afloat a + little longer.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all the same,” she said, with a slight laugh; “it's jest as well we + didn't look too comf'ble—to HIM.” + </p> + <p> + He did not reply; he did not dare to look at her. Yes! It was the same + coquette he had seen last night. His first impressions were correct. + </p> + <p> + The canoe came on rapidly now, propelled by a powerful arm. In a few + moments it was alongside, and its owner leaped on the platform. It was the + gentleman with his trousers tucked in his boots, the second voice in the + gloomy discussion in the general store last evening. He nodded simply to + the girl, and shook Hemmingway's hand warmly. + </p> + <p> + Then he made a hurried apology for his delay: it was so difficult to find + “the lay” of the drifted cabin. He had struck out first for the most + dangerous spot,—the “old clearing,” on the right bank, with its + stumps and new growths,—and it seemed he was right. And all the rest + were safe, and “nobody was hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same, Tom,” she said, when they were seated and paddling off + again, “you don't know HOW NEAR YOU CAME TO LOSING ME.” Then she raised + her beautiful eyes and looked significantly, not at HIM, but at + Hemmingway. + </p> + <p> + When the water was down at “Jules'” the next day, they found certain + curious changes and some gold, and the secretary was able to make a + favorable report. But he made none whatever of his impressions “when the + water was up at 'Jules','” though he often wondered if they were strictly + trustworthy. + </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 BOOM IN THE “CALAVERAS CLARION” + </h2> + <p> + The editorial sanctum of the “Calaveras Clarion” opened upon the + “composing-room” of that paper on the one side, and gave apparently upon + the rest of Calaveras County upon the other. For, situated on the very + outskirts of the settlement and the summit of a very steep hill, the pines + sloped away from the editorial windows to the long valley of the South + Fork and—infinity. The little wooden building had invaded Nature + without subduing it. It was filled night and day with the murmur of pines + and their fragrance. Squirrels scampered over its roof when it was not + preoccupied by woodpeckers, and a printer's devil had once seen a + nest-building blue jay enter the composing window, flutter before one of + the slanting type-cases with an air of deliberate selection, and then fly + off with a vowel in its bill. + </p> + <p> + Amidst these sylvan surroundings the temporary editor of the “Clarion” sat + at his sanctum, reading the proofs of an editorial. As he was occupying + that position during a six weeks' absence of the bona fide editor and + proprietor, he was consequently reading the proof with some anxiety and + responsibility. It had been suggested to him by certain citizens that the + “Clarion” needed a firmer and more aggressive policy towards the Bill + before the Legislature for the wagon road to the South Fork. Several + Assembly men had been “got at” by the rival settlement of Liberty Hill, + and a scathing exposure and denunciation of such methods was necessary. + The interests of their own township were also to be “whooped up.” All this + had been vigorously explained to him, and he had grasped the spirit, if + not always the facts, of his informants. It is to be feared, therefore, + that he was perusing his article more with reference to its vigor than his + own convictions. And yet he was not so greatly absorbed as to be unmindful + of the murmur of the pines without, his half-savage environment, and the + lazy talk of his sole companions,—the foreman and printer in the + adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + “Bet your life! I've always said that a man INSIDE a newspaper office + could hold his own agin any outsider that wanted to play rough or tried to + raid the office! Thar's the press, and thar's the printin' ink and roller! + Folks talk a heap o' the power o' the Press!—I tell ye, ye don't + half know it. Why, when old Kernel Fish was editin' the 'Sierra Banner,' + one o' them bullies that he'd lampooned in the 'Banner' fought his way + past the Kernel in the office, into the composin'-room, to wreck + everythin' and 'pye' all the types. Spoffrel—ye don't remember + Spoffrel?—little red-haired man?—was foreman. Spoffrel fended + him off with the roller and got one good dab inter his eyes that blinded + him, and then Spoffrel sorter skirmished him over to the press,—a + plain lever just like ours,—whar the locked-up form of the inside + was still a-lyin'! Then, quick as lightnin', Spoffrel tilts him over agin + it, and HE throws out his hand and ketches hold o' the form to steady + himself, when Spoffrel just runs the form and the hand under the press and + down with the lever! And that held the feller fast as grim death! And when + at last he begs off, and Spoff lets him loose, the hull o' that 'ere + lampooning article he objected to was printed right onto the skin o' his + hand! Fact, and it wouldn't come off, either.” + </p> + <p> + “Gosh, but I'd like to hev seen it,” said the printer. “There ain't any + chance, I reckon, o' such a sight here. The boss don't take no risks + lampoonin', and he” (the editor knew he was being indicated by some unseen + gesture of the unseen workman) “ain't that style.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye never kin tell,” said the foreman didactically, “what might happen! + I've known editors to get into a fight jest for a little innercent + bedevilin' o' the opposite party. Sometimes for a misprint. Old man + Pritchard of the 'Argus' oncet had a hole blown through his arm because + his proofreader had called Colonel Starbottle's speech an 'ignominious' + defense, when the old man hed written 'ingenuous' defense.” + </p> + <p> + The editor paused in his proof-reading. He had just come upon the + sentence: “We cannot congratulate Liberty Hill—in its superior + elevation—upon the ignominious silence of the representative of all + Calaveras when this infamous Bill was introduced.” He referred to his + copy. Yes! He had certainly written “ignominious,”—that was what his + informants had suggested. But was he sure they were right? He had a vague + recollection, also, that the representative alluded to—Senator + Bradley—had fought two duels, and was a “good” though somewhat + impulsive shot! He might alter the word to “ingenuous” or “ingenious,” + either would be finely sarcastic, but then—there was his foreman, + who would detect it! He would wait until he had finished the entire + article. In that occupation he became oblivious of the next room, of a + silence, a whispered conversation, which ended with a rapping at the door + and the appearance of the foreman in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “There's a man in the office who wants to see the editor,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Show him in,” replied the editor briefly. He was, however, conscious that + there was a singular significance in his foreman's manner, and an eager + apparition of the other printer over the foreman's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “He's carryin' a shot-gun, and is a man twice as big as you be,” said the + foreman gravely. + </p> + <p> + The editor quickly recalled his own brief and as yet blameless record in + the “Clarion.” “Perhaps,” he said tentatively, with a gentle smile, “he's + looking for Captain Brush” (the absent editor). + </p> + <p> + “I told him all that,” said the foreman grimly, “and he said he wanted to + see the man in charge.” + </p> + <p> + In proportion as the editor's heart sank his outward crest arose. “Show + him in,” he said loftily. + </p> + <p> + “We KIN keep him out,” suggested the foreman, lingering a moment; “me and + him,” indicating the expectant printer behind him, “is enough for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Show him up,” repeated the editor firmly. + </p> + <p> + The foreman withdrew; the editor seated himself and again took up his + proof. The doubtful word “ignominious” seemed to stand out of the + paragraph before him; it certainly WAS a strong expression! He was about + to run his pencil through it when he heard the heavy step of his visitor + approaching. A sudden instinct of belligerency took possession of him, and + he wrathfully threw the pencil down. + </p> + <p> + The burly form of the stranger blocked the doorway. He was dressed like a + miner, but his build and general physiognomy were quite distinct from the + local variety. His upper lip and chin were clean-shaven, still showing the + blue-black roots of the beard which covered the rest of his face and + depended in a thick fleece under his throat. He carried a small bundle + tied up in a silk handkerchief in one hand, and a “shot-gun” in the other, + perilously at half-cock. Entering the sanctum, he put down his bundle and + quietly closed the door behind him. He then drew an empty chair towards + him and dropped heavily into it with his gun on his knees. The editor's + heart dropped almost as heavily, although he quite composedly held out his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I relieve you of your gun?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank ye, lad—noa. It's moor coomfortable wi' me, and it's main + dangersome to handle on the half-cock. That's why I didn't leave 'im on + the horse outside!” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of his voice and occasional accent a flash of intelligence + relieved the editor's mind. He remembered that twenty miles away, in the + illimitable vista from his windows, lay a settlement of English + north-country miners, who, while faithfully adopting the methods, customs, + and even slang of the Californians, retained many of their native + peculiarities. The gun he carried on his knee, however, was evidently part + of the Californian imitation. + </p> + <p> + “Can I do anything for you?” said the editor blandly. + </p> + <p> + “Ay! I've coom here to bill ma woife.” + </p> + <p> + “I—don't think I understand,” hesitated the editor, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I've coom here to get ye to put into your paaper a warnin', a notiss, + that onless she returns to my house in four weeks, I'll have nowt to do + wi' her again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the editor, now perfectly reassured, “you want an + advertisement? That's the business of the foreman; I'll call him.” He was + rising from his seat when the stranger laid a heavy hand on his shoulder + and gently forced him down again. + </p> + <p> + “Noa, lad! I don't want noa foreman nor understrappers to take this job. I + want to talk it over wi' you. Sabe? My woife she bin up and awaa these six + months. We had a bit of difference, that ain't here nor there, but she + skedaddled outer my house. I want to give her fair warning, and let her + know I ain't payin' any debts o' hers arter this notiss, and I ain't + takin' her back arter four weeks from date.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said the editor glibly. “What's your wife's name?” + </p> + <p> + “Eliza Jane Dimmidge.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” continued the editor, scribbling on the paper before him; + “something like this will do: 'Whereas my wife, Eliza Jane Dimmidge, + having left my bed and board without just cause or provocation, this is to + give notice that I shall not be responsible for any debts of her + contracting on or after this date.'” + </p> + <p> + “Ye must be a lawyer,” said Mr. Dimmidge admiringly. + </p> + <p> + It was an old enough form of advertisement, and the remark showed + incontestably that Mr. Dimmidge was not a native; but the editor smiled + patronizingly and went on: “'And I further give notice that if she does + not return within the period of four weeks from this date, I shall take + such proceedings for relief as the law affords.'” + </p> + <p> + “Coom, lad, I didn't say THAT.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said you wouldn't take her back.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay.” + </p> + <p> + “And you can't prevent her without legal proceedings. She's your wife. But + you needn't take proceedings, you know. It's only a warning.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dimmidge nodded approvingly. “That's so.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll want it published for four weeks, until date?” asked the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe longer, lad.” + </p> + <p> + The editor wrote “till forbid” in the margin of the paper and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “How big will it be?” said Mr. Dimmidge. + </p> + <p> + The editor took up a copy of the “Clarion” and indicated about an inch of + space. Mr. Dimmidge's face fell. + </p> + <p> + “I want it bigger,—in large letters, like a play-card,” he said. + “That's no good for a warning.” + </p> + <p> + “You can have half a column or a whole column if you like,” said the + editor airily. + </p> + <p> + “I'll take a whole one,” said Mr. Dimmidge simply. + </p> + <p> + The editor laughed. “Why! it would cost you a hundred dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take it,” repeated Mr. Dimmidge. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the editor gravely, “the same notice in a small space will + serve your purpose and be quite legal.” + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind that, lad! It's the looks of the thing I'm arter, and not + the expense. I'll take that column.” + </p> + <p> + The editor called in the foreman and showed him the copy. “Can you display + that so as to fill a column?” + </p> + <p> + The foreman grasped the situation promptly. It would be big business for + the paper. “Yes,” he said meditatively, “that bold-faced election type + will do it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dimmidge's face brightened. The expression “bold-faced” pleased him. + “That's it! I told you. I want to bill her in a portion of the paper.” + </p> + <p> + “I might put in a cut,” said the foreman suggestively; “something like + this.” He took a venerable woodcut from the case. I grieve to say it was + one which, until the middle of the present century, was common enough in + the newspaper offices in the Southwest. It showed the running figure of a + negro woman carrying her personal property in a knotted handkerchief slung + from a stick over her shoulder, and was supposed to represent “a fugitive + slave.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dimmidge's eyes brightened. “I'll take that, too. It's a little + dark-complected for Mrs. P., but it will do. Now roon away, lad,” he said + to the foreman, as he quietly pushed him into the outer office again and + closed the door. Then, facing the surprised editor, he said, “Theer's + another notiss I want ye to put in your paper; but that's atween US. Not a + word to THEM,” he indicated the banished foreman with a jerk of his thumb. + “Sabe? I want you to put this in another part o' your paper, quite + innocent-like, ye know.” He drew from his pocket a gray wallet, and taking + out a slip of paper read from it gravely, “'If this should meet the eye of + R. B., look out for M. J. D. He is on your track. When this you see write + a line to E. J. D., Elktown Post Office.' I want this to go in as + 'Personal and Private'—sabe?—like them notisses in the big + 'Frisco papers.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said the editor, laying it aside. “It shall go in the same issue + in another column.” + </p> + <p> + Apparently Mr. Dimmidge expected something more than this reply, for after + a moment's hesitation he said with an odd smile: + </p> + <p> + “Ye ain't seein' the meanin' o' that, lad?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the editor lightly; “but I suppose R. B. does, and it isn't + intended that any one else should.” + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe it is, and mebbe it isn't,” said Mr. Dimmidge, with a + self-satisfied air. “I don't mind saying atween us that R. B. is the man + as I've suspicioned as havin' something to do with my wife goin' away; and + ye see, if he writes to E. J. D.—that's my wife's initials—at + Elktown, I'LL get that letter and so make sure.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose your wife goes there first, or sends?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll ketch her or her messenger. Ye see?” + </p> + <p> + The editor did not see fit to oppose any argument to this phenomenal + simplicity, and Mr. Dimmidge, after settling his bill with the foreman, + and enjoining the editor to the strictest secrecy regarding the origin of + the “personal notice,” took up his gun and departed, leaving the treasury + of the “Clarion” unprecedentedly enriched, and the editor to his proofs. + </p> + <p> + The paper duly appeared the next morning with the column advertisement, + the personal notice, and the weighty editorial on the wagon road. There + was a singular demand for the paper, the edition was speedily exhausted, + and the editor was proportionately flattered, although he was surprised to + receive neither praise nor criticism from his subscribers. Before evening, + however, he learned to his astonishment that the excitement was caused by + the column advertisement. Nobody knew Mr. Dimmidge, nor his domestic + infelicities, and the editor and foreman, being equally in the dark, took + refuge in a mysterious and impressive evasion of all inquiry. Never since + the last San Francisco Vigilance Committee had the office been so + besieged. The editor, foreman, and even the apprentice, were buttonholed + and “treated” at the bar, but to no effect. All that could be learned was + that it was a bona fide advertisement, for which one hundred dollars had + been received! There were great discussions and conflicting theories as to + whether the value of the wife, or the husband's anxiety to get rid of her, + justified the enormous expense and ostentatious display. She was supposed + to be an exceedingly beautiful woman by some, by others a perfect Sycorax; + in one breath Mr. Dimmidge was a weak, uxorious spouse, wasting his + substance on a creature who did not care for him, and in another a + maddened, distracted, henpecked man, content to purchase peace and rest at + any price. Certainly, never was advertisement more effective in its + publicity, or cheaper in proportion to the circulation it commanded. It + was copied throughout the whole Pacific slope; mighty San Francisco papers + described its size and setting under the attractive headline, “How they + Advertise a Wife in the Mountains!” It reappeared in the Eastern journals, + under the title of “Whimsicalities of the Western Press.” It was believed + to have crossed to England as a specimen of “Transatlantic Savagery.” The + real editor of the “Clarion” awoke one morning, in San Francisco, to find + his paper famous. Its advertising columns were eagerly sought for; he at + once advanced the rates. People bought successive issues to gaze upon this + monumental record of extravagance. A singular idea, which, however, + brought further fortune to the paper, was advanced by an astute critic at + the Eureka Saloon. “My opinion, gentlemen, is that the whole blamed thing + is a bluff! There ain't no Mr. Dimmidge; there ain't no Mrs. Dimmidge; + there ain't no desertion! The whole rotten thing is an ADVERTISEMENT o' + suthin'! Ye'll find afore ye get through with it that that there wife + won't come back until that blamed husband buys Somebody's Soap, or treats + her to Somebody's particular Starch or Patent Medicine! Ye jest watch and + see!” The idea was startling, and seized upon the mercantile mind. The + principal merchant of the town, and purveyor to the mining settlements + beyond, appeared the next morning at the office of the “Clarion.” “Ye + wouldn't mind puttin' this 'ad' in a column alongside o' the Dimmidge one, + would ye?” The young editor glanced at it, and then, with a serpent-like + sagacity, veiled, however, by the suavity of the dove, pointed out that + the original advertiser might think it called his bona fides into question + and withdraw his advertisement. “But if we secured you by an offer of + double the amount per column?” urged the merchant. “That,” responded the + locum tenens, “was for the actual editor and proprietor in San Francisco + to determine. He would telegraph.” He did so. The response was, “Put it + in.” Whereupon in the next issue, side by side with Mr. Dimmidge's + protracted warning, appeared a column with the announcement, in large + letters, “WE HAVEN'T LOST ANY WIFE, but WE are prepared to furnish the + following goods at a lower rate than any other advertiser in the county,” + followed by the usual price list of the merchant's wares. There was an + unprecedented demand for that issue. The reputation of the “Clarion,” both + as a shrewd advertising medium and a comic paper, was established at once. + For a few days the editor waited with some apprehension for a remonstrance + from the absent Dimmidge, but none came. Whether Mr. Dimmidge recognized + that this new advertisement gave extra publicity to his own, or that he + was already on the track of the fugitive, the editor did not know. The few + curious citizens who had, early in the excitement, penetrated the + settlement of the English miners twenty miles away in search of + information, found that Mr. Dimmidge had gone away, and that Mrs. Dimmidge + had NEVER resided there with him! + </p> + <p> + Six weeks passed. The limit of Mr. Dimmidge's advertisement had been + reached, and, as it was not renewed, it had passed out of the pages of the + “Clarion,” and with it the merchant's advertisement in the next column. + The excitement had subsided, although its influence was still felt in the + circulation of the paper and its advertising popularity. The temporary + editor was also nearing the limit of his incumbency, but had so far + participated in the good fortune of the “Clarion” as to receive an offer + from one of the San Francisco dailies. + </p> + <p> + It was a warm night, and he was alone in his sanctum. The rest of the + building was dark and deserted, and his solitary light, flashing out + through the open window, fell upon the nearer pines and was lost in the + dark, indefinable slope below. He had reached the sanctum by the rear, and + a door which he also left open to enjoy the freshness of the aromatic air. + Nor did it in the least mar his privacy. Rather the solitude of the great + woods without seemed to enter through that door and encompassed him with + its protecting loneliness. There was occasionally a faint “peep” in the + scant eaves, or a “pat-pat,” ending in a frightened scurry across the + roof, or the slow flap of a heavy wing in the darkness below. These gentle + disturbances did not, however, interrupt his work on “The True Functions + of the County Newspaper,” the editorial on which he was engaged. + </p> + <p> + Presently a more distinct rustling against the straggling blackberry + bushes beside the door attracted his attention. It was followed by a light + tapping against the side of the house. The editor started and turned + quickly towards the open door. Two outside steps led to the ground. + Standing upon the lower one was a woman. The upper part of her figure, + illuminated by the light from the door, was thrown into greater relief by + the dark background of the pines. Her face was unknown to him, but it was + a pleasant one, marked by a certain good-humored determination. + </p> + <p> + “May I come in?” she said confidently. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the editor. “I am working here alone because it is so + quiet.” He thought he would precipitate some explanation from her by + excusing himself. + </p> + <p> + “That's the reason why I came,” she said, with a quiet smile. + </p> + <p> + She came up the next step and entered the room. She was plainly but neatly + dressed, and now that her figure was revealed he saw that she was wearing + a linsey-woolsey riding-skirt, and carried a serviceable rawhide whip in + her cotton-gauntleted hand. She took the chair he offered her and sat down + sideways on it, her whip hand now also holding up her skirt, and + permitting a hem of clean white petticoat and a smart, well-shaped boot to + be seen. + </p> + <p> + “I don't remember to have had the pleasure of seeing you in Calaveras + before,” said the editor tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “No. I never was here before,” she said composedly, “but you've heard + enough of me, I reckon. I'm Mrs. Dimmidge.” She threw one hand over the + back of the chair, and with the other tapped her riding-whip on the floor. + </p> + <p> + The editor started. Mrs. Dimmidge! Then she was not a myth. An absurd + similarity between her attitude with the whip and her husband's entrance + with his gun six weeks before forced itself upon him and made her an + invincible presence. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have returned to your husband?” he said hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Not much!” she returned, with a slight curl of her lip. + </p> + <p> + “But you read his advertisement?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw that column of fool nonsense he put in your paper—ef that's + what you mean,” she said with decision, “but I didn't come here to see HIM—but + YOU.” + </p> + <p> + The editor looked at her with a forced smile, but a vague misgiving. He + was alone at night in a deserted part of the settlement, with a plump, + self-possessed woman who had a contralto voice, a horsewhip, and—he + could not help feeling—an evident grievance. + </p> + <p> + “To see me?” he repeated, with a faint attempt at gallantry. “You are + paying me a great compliment, but really”— + </p> + <p> + “When I tell you I've come three thousand miles from Kansas straight here + without stopping, ye kin reckon it's so,” she replied firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Three thousand miles!” echoed the editor wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Three thousand miles from my own folks' home in Kansas, where six + years ago I married Mr. Dimmidge,—a British furriner as could + scarcely make himself understood in any Christian language! Well, he got + round me and dad, allowin' he was a reg'lar out-and-out profeshnal miner,—had + lived in mines ever since he was a boy; and so, not knowin' what kind o' + mines, and dad just bilin' over with the gold fever, we were married and + kem across the plains to Californy. He was a good enough man to look at, + but it warn't three months before I discovered that he allowed a wife was + no better nor a nigger slave, and he the master. That made me open my + eyes; but then, as he didn't drink, and didn't gamble, and didn't swear, + and was a good provider and laid by money, why I shifted along with him as + best I could. We drifted down the first year to Sonora, at Red Dog, where + there wasn't another woman. Well, I did the nigger slave business,—never + stirring out o' the settlement, never seein' a town or a crowd o' decent + people,—and he did the lord and master! We played that game for two + years, and I got tired. But when at last he allowed he'd go up to Elktown + Hill, where there was a passel o' his countrymen at work, with never a + sign o' any other folks, and leave me alone at Red Dog until he fixed up a + place for me at Elktown Hill,—I kicked! I gave him fair warning! I + did as other nigger slaves did,—I ran away!” + </p> + <p> + A recollection of the wretched woodcut which Mr. Dimmidge had selected to + personify his wife flashed upon the editor with a new meaning. Yet perhaps + she had not seen it, and had only read a copy of the advertisement. What + could she want? The “Calaveras Clarion,” although a “Palladium” and a + “Sentinel upon the Heights of Freedom” in reference to wagon roads, was + not a redresser of domestic wrongs,—except through its advertising + columns! Her next words intensified that suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “I've come here to put an advertisement in your paper.” + </p> + <p> + The editor heaved a sigh of relief, as once before. “Certainly,” he said + briskly. “But that's another department of the paper, and the printers + have gone home. Come to-morrow morning early.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow morning I shall be miles away,” she said decisively, “and what + I want done has got to be done NOW! I don't want to see no printers; I + don't want ANYBODY to know I've been here but you. That's why I kem here + at night, and rode all the way from Sawyer's Station, and wouldn't take + the stage-coach. And when we've settled about the advertisement, I'm going + to mount my horse, out thar in the bushes, and scoot outer the + settlement.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the editor resignedly. “Of course I can deliver your + instructions to the foreman. And now—let me see—I suppose you + wish to intimate in a personal notice to your husband that you've + returned.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin' o' the kind!” said Mrs. Dimmidge coolly. “I want to placard him + as he did me. I've got it all written out here. Sabe?” + </p> + <p> + She took from her pocket a folded paper, and spreading it out on the + editor's desk, with a certain pride of authorship read as follows:— + </p> + <p> + “Whereas my husband, Micah J. Dimmidge, having given out that I have left + his bed and board,—the same being a bunk in a log cabin and pork and + molasses three times a day,—and having advertised that he'd pay no + debts of MY contractin',—which, as thar ain't any, might be easier + collected than debts of his own contractin',—this is to certify that + unless he returns from Elktown Hill to his only home in Sonora in one week + from date, payin' the cost of this advertisement, I'll know the reason + why.—Eliza Jane Dimmidge.” + </p> + <p> + “Thar,” she added, drawing a long breath, “put that in a column of the + 'Clarion,' same size as the last, and let it work, and that's all I want + of you.” + </p> + <p> + “A column?” repeated the editor. “Do you know the cost is very expensive, + and I COULD put it in a single paragraph?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon I kin pay the same as Mr. Dimmidge did for HIS,” said the lady + complacently. “I didn't see your paper myself, but the paper as copied it—one + of them big New York dailies—said that it took up a whole column.” + </p> + <p> + The editor breathed more freely; she had not seen the infamous woodcut + which her husband had selected. At the same moment he was struck with a + sense of retribution, justice, and compensation. + </p> + <p> + “Would you,” he asked hesitatingly,—“would you like it illustrated—by + a cut?” + </p> + <p> + “With which?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment; I'll show you.” + </p> + <p> + He went into the dark composing-room, lit a candle, and rummaging in a + drawer sacred to weather-beaten, old-fashioned electrotyped advertising + symbols of various trades, finally selected one and brought it to Mrs. + Dimmidge. It represented a bare and exceedingly stalwart arm wielding a + large hammer. + </p> + <p> + “Your husband being a miner,—a quartz miner,—would that do?” + he asked. (It had been previously used to advertise a blacksmith, a + gold-beater, and a stone-mason.) + </p> + <p> + The lady examined it critically. + </p> + <p> + “It does look a little like Micah's arm,” she said meditatively. “Well—you + kin put it in.” + </p> + <p> + The editor was so well pleased with his success that he must needs make + another suggestion. “I suppose,” he said ingenuously, “that you don't want + to answer the 'Personal'?” + </p> + <p> + “'Personal'?” she repeated quickly, “what's that? I ain't seen no + 'Personal.'” The editor saw his blunder. She, of course, had never seen + Mr. Dimmidge's artful “Personal;” THAT the big dailies naturally had not + noticed nor copied. But it was too late to withdraw now. He brought out a + file of the “Clarion,” and snipping out the paragraph with his scissors, + laid it before the lady. + </p> + <p> + She stared at it with wrinkled brows and a darkening face. + </p> + <p> + “And THIS was in the same paper?—put in by Mr. Dimmidge?” she asked + breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + The editor, somewhat alarmed, stammered “Yes.” But the next moment he was + reassured. The wrinkles disappeared, a dozen dimples broke out where they + had been, and the determined, matter-of-fact Mrs. Dimmidge burst into a + fit of rosy merriment. Again and again she laughed, shaking the building, + startling the sedate, melancholy woods beyond, until the editor himself + laughed in sheer vacant sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “Lordy!” she said at last, gasping, and wiping the laughter from her wet + eyes. “I never thought of THAT.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” explained the editor smilingly; “of course you didn't. Don't you + see, the papers that copied the big advertisement never saw that little + paragraph, or if they did, they never connected the two together.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it ain't that,” said Mrs. Dimmidge, trying to regain her composure + and holding her sides. “It's that blessed DEAR old dunderhead of a + Dimmidge I'm thinking of. That gets me. I see it all now. Only, sakes + alive! I never thought THAT of him. Oh, it's just too much!” and she again + relapsed behind her handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose you don't want to reply to it,” said the editor. + </p> + <p> + Her laughter instantly ceased. “Don't I?” she said, wiping her face into + its previous complacent determination. “Well, young man, I reckon that's + just what I WANT to do! Now, wait a moment; let's see what he said,” she + went on, taking up and reperusing the “Personal” paragraph. “Well, then,” + she went on, after a moment's silent composition with moving lips, “you + just put these lines in.” + </p> + <p> + The editor took up his pencil. + </p> + <p> + “To Mr. J. D. Dimmidge.—Hope you're still on R. B.'s tracks. Keep + there!—E. J. D.” + </p> + <p> + The editor wrote down the line, and then, remembering Mr. Dimmidge's + voluntary explanation of HIS “Personal,” waited with some confidence for a + like frankness from Mrs. Dimmidge. But he was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + “You think that he—R. B.—or Mr. Dimmidge—will understand + this?” he at last asked tentatively. “Is it enough?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite enough,” said Mrs. Dimmidge emphatically. She took a roll of + greenbacks from her pocket, selected a hundred-dollar bill and then a + five, and laid them before the editor. “Young man,” she said, with a + certain demure gravity, “you've done me a heap o' good. I never spent + money with more satisfaction than this. I never thought much o' the 'power + o' the Press,' as you call it, afore. But this has been a right + comfortable visit, and I'm glad I ketched you alone. But you understand + one thing: this yer visit, and WHO I am, is betwixt you and me only.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I must say that the advertisement was AUTHORIZED,” returned the + editor. “I'm only the temporary editor. The proprietor is away.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better,” said the lady complacently. “You just say you found + it on your desk with the money; but don't you give me away.” + </p> + <p> + “I can promise you that the secret of your personal visit is safe with + me,” said the young man, with a bow, as Mrs. Dimmidge rose. “Let me see + you to your horse,” he added. “It's quite dark in the woods.” + </p> + <p> + “I can see well enough alone, and it's just as well you shouldn't know HOW + I kem or HOW I went away. Enough for you to know that I'll be miles away + before that paper comes out. So stay where you are.” + </p> + <p> + She pressed his hand frankly and firmly, gathered up her riding-skirt, + slipped backwards to the door, and the next moment rustled away into the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + Early the next morning the editor handed Mrs. Dimmidge's advertisement, + and the woodcut he had selected, to his foreman. He was purposely brief in + his directions, so as to avoid inquiry, and retired to his sanctum. In the + space of a few moments the foreman entered with a slight embarrassment of + manner. + </p> + <p> + “You'll excuse my speaking to you, sir,” he said, with a singular mixture + of humility and cunning. “It's no business of mine, I know; but I thought + I ought to tell you that this yer kind o' thing won't pay any more,—it's + about played out!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I understand you,” said the editor loftily, but with an + inward misgiving. “You don't mean to say that a regular, actual + advertisement”— + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I know all that,” said the foreman, with a peculiar smile; + “and I'm ready to back you up in it, and so's the boy; but it won't pay.” + </p> + <p> + “It HAS paid a hundred and five dollars,” said the editor, taking the + notes from his pocket; “so I'd advise you to simply attend to your duty + and set it up.” + </p> + <p> + A look of surprise, followed, however, by a kind of pitying smile, passed + over the foreman's face. “Of course, sir, THAT'S all right, and you know + your own business; but if you think that the new advertisement will pay + this time as the other one did, and whoop up another column from an + advertiser, I'm afraid you'll slip up. It's a little 'off color' now,—not + 'up to date,'—if it ain't a regular 'back number,' as you'll see.” + </p> + <p> + “Meantime I'll dispense with your advice,” said the editor curtly, “and I + think you had better let our subscribers and advertisers do the same, or + the 'Clarion' might also be obliged to dispense with your SERVICES.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't no blab,” said the foreman, in an aggrieved manner, “and I don't + intend to give the show away even if it don't PAY. But I thought I'd tell + you, because I know the folks round here better than you do.” + </p> + <p> + He was right. No sooner had the advertisement appeared than the editor + found that everybody believed it to be a sheer invention of his own to + “once more boom” the “Clarion.” If they had doubted MR. Dimmidge, they + utterly rejected MRS. Dimmidge as an advertiser! It was a stale joke that + nobody would follow up; and on the heels of this came a letter from the + editor-in-chief. + </p> + <p> + MY DEAR BOY,—You meant well, I know, but the second Dimmidge “ad” + was a mistake. Still, it was a big bluff of yours to show the money, and I + send you back your hundred dollars, hoping you won't “do it again.” Of + course you'll have to keep the advertisement in the paper for two issues, + just as if it were a real thing, and it's lucky that there's just now no + pressure in our columns. You might have told a better story than that + hogwash about your finding the “ad” and a hundred dollars lying loose on + your desk one morning. It was rather thin, and I don't wonder the foreman + kicked. + </p> + <p> + The young editor was in despair. At first he thought of writing to Mrs. + Dimmidge at the Elktown Post-Office, asking her to relieve him of his vow + of secrecy; but his pride forbade. There was a humorous concern, not + without a touch of pity, in the faces of his contributors as he passed; a + few affected to believe in the new advertisement, and asked him vague, + perfunctory questions about it. His position was trying, and he was not + sorry when the term of his engagement expired the next week, and he left + Calaveras to take his new position on the San Francisco paper. + </p> + <p> + He was standing in the saloon of the Sacramento boat when he felt a sudden + heavy pressure on his shoulder, and looking round sharply, beheld not only + the black-bearded face of Mr. Dimmidge, lit up by a smile, but beside it + the beaming, buxom face of Mrs. Dimmidge, overflowing with good-humor. + Still a little sore from his past experience, he was about to address them + abruptly, when he was utterly vanquished by the hearty pressure of their + hands and the unmistakable look of gratitude in their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I was just saying to 'Lizy Jane,” began Mr. Dimmidge breathlessly, “if I + could only meet that young man o' the 'Clarion' what brought us together + again”— + </p> + <p> + “You'd be willin' to pay four times the amount we both paid him,” + interpolated the laughing Mrs. Dimmidge. + </p> + <p> + “But I didn't bring you together,” burst out the dazed young man, “and I'd + like to know, in the name of Heaven, what brought you together now?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see, lad,” said the imperturbable Mr. Dimmidge, “'Lizy Jane and + myself had qua'lled, and we just unpacked our fool nonsense in your paper + and let the hull world know it! And we both felt kinder skeert and shamed + like, and it looked such small hogwash, and of so little account, for all + the talk it made, that we kinder felt lonely as two separated fools that + really ought to share their foolishness together.” + </p> + <p> + “And that ain't all,” said Mrs. Dimmidge, with a sly glance at her spouse, + “for I found out from that 'Personal' you showed me that this particular + old fool was actooally jealous!—JEALOUS!” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” said the editor impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “And then I KNEW he loved me all the time.” + </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 SECRET OF SOBRIENTE'S WELL + </h2> + <p> + Even to the eye of the most inexperienced traveler there was no doubt that + Buena Vista was a “played-out” mining camp. There, seamed and scarred by + hydraulic engines, was the old hillside, over whose denuded surface the + grass had begun to spring again in fitful patches; there were the + abandoned heaps of tailings already blackened by sun and rain, and worn + into mounds like ruins of masonry; there were the waterless ditches, like + giant graves, and the pools of slumgullion, now dried into shining, glazed + cement. There were two or three wooden “stores,” from which the windows + and doors had been taken and conveyed to the newer settlement of Wynyard's + Gulch. Four or five buildings that still were inhabited—the + blacksmith's shop, the post-office, a pioneer's cabin, and the old hotel + and stage-office—only accented the general desolation. The latter + building had a remoteness of prosperity far beyond the others, having been + a wayside Spanish-American posada, with adobe walls of two feet in + thickness, that shamed the later shells of half-inch plank, which were + slowly warping and cracking like dried pods in the oven-like heat. + </p> + <p> + The proprietor of this building, Colonel Swinger, had been looked upon by + the community as a person quite as remote, old-fashioned, and inconsistent + with present progress as the house itself. He was an old Virginian, who + had emigrated from his decaying plantation on the James River only to find + the slaves, which he had brought with him, freed men when they touched + Californian soil; to be driven by Northern progress and “smartness” out of + the larger cities into the mountains, to fix himself at last, with the + hopeless fatuity of his race, upon an already impoverished settlement; to + sink his scant capital in hopeless shafts and ledges, and finally to take + over the decaying hostelry of Buena Vista, with its desultory custom and + few, lingering, impecunious guests. Here, too, his old Virginian ideas of + hospitality were against his financial success; he could not dun nor turn + from his door those unfortunate prospectors whom the ebbing fortunes of + Buena Vista had left stranded by his side. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Swinger was sitting in a wicker-work rocking-chair on the veranda + of his hotel—sipping a mint julep which he held in his hand, while + he gazed into the dusty distance. Nothing could have convinced him that he + was not performing a serious part of his duty as hotel-keeper in this + attitude, even though there were no travelers expected, and the road at + this hour of the day was deserted. On a bench at his side Larry Hawkins + stretched his lazy length,—one foot dropped on the veranda, and one + arm occasionally groping under the bench for his own tumbler of + refreshment. Apart from this community of occupation, there was apparently + no interchange of sentiment between the pair. The silence had continued + for some moments, when the colonel put down his glass and gazed earnestly + into the distance. + </p> + <p> + “Seein' anything?” remarked the man on the bench, who had sleepily + regarded him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the colonel, “that is—it's only Dick Ruggles crossin' the + road.” + </p> + <p> + “Thought you looked a little startled, ez if you'd seen that ar wanderin' + stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “When I see that wandering stranger, sah,” said the colonel decisively, “I + won't be sittin' long in this yer chyar. I'll let him know in about ten + seconds that I don't harbor any vagrants prowlin' about like poor whites + or free niggers on my propahty, sah!” + </p> + <p> + “All the same, I kinder wish ye did see him, for you'd be settled in YOUR + mind and I'd be easier in MINE, ef you found out what he was doin' round + yer, or ye had to admit that it wasn't no LIVIN' man.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” said the colonel, testily facing around in his chair. + </p> + <p> + His companion also altered his attitude by dropping his other foot to the + floor, sitting up, and leaning lazily forward with his hands clasped. + </p> + <p> + “Look yer, colonel. When you took this place, I felt I didn't have no call + to tell ye all I know about it, nor to pizen yer mind by any darned fool + yarns I mout hev heard. Ye know it was one o' them old Spanish haciendas?” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said the colonel loftily, “that it was held by a grant from + Charles the Fifth of Spain, just as my propahty on the James River was + given to my people by King James of England, sah!” + </p> + <p> + “That ez as may be,” returned his companion, in lazy indifference; “though + I reckon that Charles the Fifth of Spain and King James of England ain't + got much to do with what I'm goin' to tell ye. Ye see, I was here long + afore YOUR time, or any of the boys that hev now cleared out; and at that + time the hacienda belonged to a man named Juan Sobriente. He was that kind + o' fool that he took no stock in mining. When the boys were whoopin' up + the place and finding the color everywhere, and there was a hundred men + working down there in the gulch, he was either ridin' round lookin' up the + wild horses he owned, or sittin' with two or three lazy peons and Injins + that was fed and looked arter by the priests. Gosh! now I think of it, it + was mighty like YOU when you first kem here with your niggers. That's + curious, too, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + He had stopped, gazing with an odd, superstitious wonderment at the + colonel, as if overcome by this not very remarkable coincidence. The + colonel, overlooking or totally oblivious to its somewhat uncomplimentary + significance, simply said, “Go on. What about him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ez I was sayin', he warn't in it nohow, but kept on his reg'lar way + when the boom was the biggest. Some of the boys allowed it was mighty + oncivil for him to stand off like that, and others—when he refused a + big pile for his hacienda and the garden, that ran right into the + gold-bearing ledge—war for lynching him and driving him outer the + settlement. But as he had a pretty darter or niece livin' with him, and, + except for his partickler cussedness towards mining, was kinder peaceable + and perlite, they thought better of it. Things went along like this, until + one day the boys noticed—particklerly the boys that had slipped up + on their luck—that old man Sobriente was gettin' rich,—had + stocked a ranch over on the Divide, and had given some gold candlesticks + to the mission church. That would have been only human nature and + business, ef he'd had any during them flush times; but he hadn't. This + kinder puzzled them. They tackled the peons,—his niggers,—but + it was all 'No sabe.' They tackled another man,—a kind of half-breed + Kanaka, who, except the priest, was the only man who came to see him, and + was supposed to be mighty sweet on the darter or niece,—but they + didn't even get the color outer HIM. Then the first thing we knowed was + that old Sobriente was found dead in the well!” + </p> + <p> + “In the well, sah!” said the colonel, starting up. “The well on my + propahty?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said his companion. “The old well that was afterwards shut up. Yours + was dug by the last tenant, Jack Raintree, who allowed that he didn't want + to 'take any Sobriente in his reg'lar whiskey and water.' Well, the + half-breed Kanaka cleared out after the old man's death, and so did that + darter or niece; and the church, to whom old Sobriente had left this + house, let it to Raintree for next to nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see what all that has got to do with that wandering tramp,” said + the colonel, who was by no means pleased with this history of his + property. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell ye. A few days after Raintree took it over, he was lookin' + round the garden, which old Sobriente had always kept shut up agin + strangers, and he finds a lot of dried-up 'slumgullion' * scattered all + about the borders and beds, just as if the old man had been using it for + fertilizing. Well, Raintree ain't no fool; he allowed the old man wasn't + one, either; and he knew that slumgullion wasn't worth no more than mud + for any good it would do the garden. So he put this yer together with + Sobriente's good luck, and allowed to himself that the old coyote had been + secretly gold-washin' all the while he seemed to be standin' off agin it! + But where was the mine? Whar did he get the gold? That's what got + Raintree. He hunted all over the garden, prospected every part of it,—ye + kin see the holes yet,—but he never even got the color!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * That is, a viscid cement-like refuse of gold-washing. +</pre> + <p> + He paused, and then, as the colonel made an impatient gesture, he went on. + </p> + <p> + “Well, one night just afore you took the place, and when Raintree was + gettin' just sick of it, he happened to be walkin' in the garden. He was + puzzlin' his brain agin to know how old Sobriente made his pile, when all + of a suddenst he saw suthin' a-movin' in the brush beside the house. He + calls out, thinkin' it was one of the boys, but got no answer. Then he + goes to the bushes, and a tall figger, all in black, starts out afore him. + He couldn't see any face, for its head was covered with a hood, but he saw + that it held suthin' like a big cross clasped agin its breast. This made + him think it was one them priests, until he looks agin and sees that it + wasn't no cross it was carryin,' but a PICKAXE! He makes a jump towards + it, but it vanished! He traipsed over the hull garden,—went though + ev'ry bush,—but it was clean gone. Then the hull thing flashed upon + him with a cold shiver. The old man bein' found dead in the well! the + goin' away of the half-breed and the girl! the findin' o' that + slumgullion! The old man HAD made a strike in that garden, the half-breed + had discovered his secret and murdered him, throwin' him down the well! It + war no LIVIN' man that he had seen, but the ghost of old Sobriente!” + </p> + <p> + The colonel emptied the remaining contents of his glass at a single gulp, + and sat up. “It's my opinion, sah, that Raintree had that night more than + his usual allowance of corn-juice on board; and it's only a wonder, sah, + that he didn't see a few pink alligators and sky-blue snakes at the same + time. But what's this got to do with that wanderin' tramp?” + </p> + <p> + “They're all the same thing, colonel, and in my opinion that there tramp + ain't no more alive than that figger was.” + </p> + <p> + “But YOU were the one that saw this tramp with your own eyes,” retorted + the colonel quickly, “and you never before allowed it was a spirit!” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! I saw it whar a minit afore nothin' had been standin', and a + minit after nothin' stood,” said Larry Hawkins, with a certain serious + emphasis; “but I warn't goin' to say it to ANYBODY, and I warn't goin' to + give you and the hacienda away. And ez nobody knew Raintree's story, I + jest shut up my head. But you kin bet your life that the man I saw warn't + no livin' man!” + </p> + <p> + “We'll see, sah!” said the colonel, rising from his chair with his fingers + in the armholes of his nankeen waistcoat, “ef he ever intrudes on my + property again. But look yar! don't ye go sayin' anything of this to + Polly,—you know what women are!” + </p> + <p> + A faint color came into Larry's face; an animation quite different to the + lazy deliberation of his previous monologue shone in his eyes, as he said, + with a certain rough respect he had not shown before to his companion, + “That's why I'm tellin' ye, so that ef SHE happened to see anything and + got skeert, ye'd know how to reason her out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “'Sh!” said the colonel, with a warning gesture. + </p> + <p> + A young girl had just appeared in the doorway, and now stood leaning + against the central pillar that supported it, with one hand above her + head, in a lazy attitude strongly suggestive of the colonel's Southern + indolence, yet with a grace entirely her own. Indeed, it overcame the + negligence of her creased and faded yellow cotton frock and unbuttoned + collar, and suggested—at least to the eyes of ONE man—the + curving and clinging of the jasmine vine against the outer column of the + veranda. Larry Hawkins rose awkwardly to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Now what are you two men mumblin' and confidin' to each other? You look + for all the world like two old women gossips,” she said, with languid + impertinence. + </p> + <p> + It was easy to see that a privileged and recognized autocrat spoke. No one + had ever questioned Polly Swinger's right to interrupting, interfering, + and saucy criticisms. Secure in the hopeless or chivalrous admiration of + the men around her, she had repaid it with a frankness that scorned any + coquetry; with an indifference to the ordinary feminine effect or + provocation in dress or bearing that was as natural as it was invincible. + No one had ever known Polly to “fix up” for anybody, yet no one ever + doubted the effect, if she had. No one had ever rebuked her charming + petulance, or wished to. + </p> + <p> + Larry gave a weak, vague laugh. Colonel Swinger as ineffectively assumed a + mock parental severity. “When you see two gentlemen, miss, discussin' + politics together, it ain't behavin' like a lady to interrupt. Better run + away and tidy yourself before the stage comes.” + </p> + <p> + The young lady replied to the last innuendo by taking two spirals of soft + hair, like “corn silk,” from her oval cheek, wetting them with her lips, + and tucking them behind her ears. Her father's ungentlemanly suggestion + being thus disposed of, she returned to her first charge. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't no politics; you ain't been swearing enough for THAT! Come, now! + It's the mysterious stranger ye've been talking about!” + </p> + <p> + Both men stared at her with unaffected concern. + </p> + <p> + “What do YOU know about any mysterious stranger?” demanded her father. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose you men kin keep a secret,” scoffed Polly. “Why, Dick + Ruggles told me how skeert ye all were over an entire stranger, and he + advised me not to wander down the road after dark. I asked him if he + thought I was a pickaninny to be frightened by bogies, and that if he + hadn't a better excuse for wantin' 'to see me home' from the Injin spring, + he might slide.” + </p> + <p> + Larry laughed again, albeit a little bitterly, for it seemed to him that + the excuse was fully justified; but the colonel said promptly, “Dick's a + fool, and you might have told him there were worse things to be met on the + road than bogies. Run away now, and see that the niggers are on hand when + the stage comes.” + </p> + <p> + Two hours later the stage came with a clatter of hoofs and a cloud of red + dust, which precipitated itself and a dozen thirsty travelers upon the + veranda before the hotel bar-room; it brought also the usual “express” + newspapers and much talk to Colonel Swinger, who always received his + guests in a lofty personal fashion at the door, as he might have done in + his old Virginian home; but it brought likewise—marvelous to relate—an + ACTUAL GUEST, who had two trunks and asked for a room! He was evidently a + stranger to the ways of Buena Vista, and particularly to those of Colonel + Swinger, and at first seemed inclined to resent the social attitude of his + host, and his frank and free curiosity. When he, however, found that + Colonel Swinger was even better satisfied to give an account of HIS OWN + affairs, his family, pedigree, and his present residence, he began to + betray some interest. The colonel told him all the news, and would no + doubt have even expatiated on his ghostly visitant, had he not prudently + concluded that his guest might decline to remain in a haunted inn. The + stranger had spoken of staying a week; he had some private mining + speculations to watch at Wynyard's Gulch,—the next settlement, but + he did not care to appear openly at the “Gulch Hotel.” He was a man of + thirty, with soft, pleasing features and a singular litheness of movement, + which, combined with a nut-brown, gypsy complexion, at first suggested a + foreigner. But his dialect, to the colonel's ears, was distinctly that of + New England, and to this was added a puritanical and sanctimonious drawl. + “He looked,” said the colonel in after years, “like a blank light + mulatter, but talked like a blank Yankee parson.” For all that, he was + acceptable to his host, who may have felt that his reminiscences of his + plantation on the James River were palling on Buena Vista ears, and was + glad of his new auditor. It was an advertisement, too, of the hotel, and a + promise of its future fortunes. “Gentlemen having propahty interests at + the Gulch, sah, prefer to stay at Buena Vista with another man of + propahty, than to trust to those new-fangled papah-collared, gingerbread + booths for traders that they call 'hotels' there,” he had remarked to some + of “the boys.” In his preoccupation with the new guest, he also became a + little neglectful of his old chum and dependent, Larry Hawkins. Nor was + this the only circumstance that filled the head of that shiftless loyal + retainer of the colonel with bitterness and foreboding. Polly Swinger—the + scornfully indifferent, the contemptuously inaccessible, the coldly + capricious and petulant—was inclined to be polite to the stranger! + </p> + <p> + The fact was that Polly, after the fashion of her sex, took it into her + pretty head, against all consistency and logic, suddenly to make an + exception to her general attitude towards mankind in favor of one + individual. The reason-seeking masculine reader will rashly conclude that + this individual was the CAUSE as well as the object; but I am satisfied + that every fair reader of these pages will instinctively know better. Miss + Polly had simply selected the new guest, Mr. Starbuck, to show OTHERS, + particularly Larry Hawkins, what she COULD do if she were inclined to be + civil. For two days she “fixed up” her distracting hair at him so that its + silken floss encircled her head like a nimbus; she tucked her oval chin + into a white fichu instead of a buttonless collar; she appeared at dinner + in a newly starched yellow frock! She talked to him with “company + manners;” said she would “admire to go to San Francisco,” and asked if he + knew her old friends the Fauquier girls from “Faginia.” The colonel was + somewhat disturbed; he was glad that his daughter had become less + negligent of her personal appearance; he could not but see, with the + others, how it enhanced her graces; but he was, with the others, not + entirely satisfied with her reasons. And he could not help observing—what + was more or less patent to ALL—that Starbuck was far from being + equally responsive to her attentions, and at times was indifferent and + almost uncivil. Nobody seemed to be satisfied with Polly's transformation + but herself. + </p> + <p> + But eventually she was obliged to assert herself. The third evening after + Starbuck's arrival she was going over to the cabin of Aunt Chloe, who not + only did the washing for Buena Vista, but assisted Polly in dressmaking. + It was not far, and the night was moonlit. As she crossed the garden she + saw Starbuck moving in the manzanita bushes beyond; a mischievous light + came into her eyes; she had not EXPECTED to meet him, but she had seen him + go out, and there were always POSSIBILITIES. To her surprise, however, he + merely lifted his hat as she passed, and turned abruptly in another + direction. This was more than the little heart-breaker of Buena Vista was + accustomed to! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Starbuck!” she called, in her laziest voice. + </p> + <p> + He turned almost impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Since you're so civil and pressing, I thought I'd tell you I was just + runnin' over to Aunt Chloe's,” she said dryly. + </p> + <p> + “I should think it was hardly the proper thing for a young lady to do at + this time of night,” he said superciliously. “But you know best,—you + know the people here.” + </p> + <p> + Polly's cheeks and eyes flamed. “Yes, I reckon I do,” she said crisply; + “it's only a STRANGER here would think of being rude. Good-night, Mr. + Starbuck!” + </p> + <p> + She tripped away after this Parthian shot, yet feeling, even in her + triumph, that the conceited fool seemed actually relieved at her + departure! And for the first time she now thought that she had seen + something in his face that she did not like! But her lazy independence + reasserted itself soon, and half an hour later, when she had left Aunt + Chloe's cabin, she had regained her self-esteem. Yet, to avoid meeting him + again, she took a longer route home, across the dried ditch and over the + bluff, scarred by hydraulics, and so fell, presently, upon the old garden + at the point where it adjoined the abandoned diggings. She was quite sure + she had escaped a meeting with Starbuck, and was gliding along under the + shadow of the pear-trees, when she suddenly stopped. An indescribable + terror overcame her as she stared at a spot in the garden, perfectly + illuminated by the moonlight not fifty yards from where she stood. For she + saw on its surface a human head—a man's head!—seemingly on the + level of the ground, staring in her direction. A hysterical laugh sprang + from her lips, and she caught at the branches above her or she would have + fallen! Yet in that moment the head had vanished! The moonlight revealed + the empty garden,—the ground she had gazed at,—but nothing + more! + </p> + <p> + She had never been superstitious. As a child she had heard the negroes + talk of “the hants,”—that is, “the HAUNTS” or spirits,—but had + believed it a part of their ignorance, and unworthy a white child,—the + daughter of their master! She had laughed with Dick Ruggles over the + illusions of Larry, and had shared her father's contemptuous disbelief of + the wandering visitant being anything but a living man; yet she would have + screamed for assistance now, only for the greater fear of making her + weakness known to Mr. Starbuck, and being dependent upon him for help. And + with it came the sudden conviction that HE had seen this awful vision, + too. This would account for his impatience of her presence and his + rudeness. She felt faint and giddy. Yet after the first shock had passed, + her old independence and pride came to her relief. She would go to the + spot and examine it. If it were some trick or illusion, she would show her + superiority and have the laugh on Starbuck. She set her white teeth, + clenched her little hands, and started out into the moonlight. But alas! + for women's weakness. The next moment she uttered a scream and almost fell + into the arms of Mr. Starbuck, who had stepped out of the shadows beside + her. + </p> + <p> + “So you see you HAVE been frightened,” he said, with a strange, forced + laugh; “but I warned you about going out alone!” + </p> + <p> + Even in her fright she could not help seeing that he, too, seemed pale and + agitated, at which she recovered her tongue and her self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody would be frightened by being dogged about under the trees,” she + said pertly. + </p> + <p> + “But you called out before you saw me,” he said bluntly, “as if something + had frightened you. That was WHY I came towards you.” + </p> + <p> + She knew it was the truth; but as she would not confess to her vision, she + fibbed outrageously. + </p> + <p> + “Frightened,” she said, with pale but lofty indignation. “What was there + to frighten me? I'm not a baby, to think I see a bogie in the dark!” This + was said in the faint hope that HE had seen something too. If it had been + Larry or her father who had met her, she would have confessed everything. + </p> + <p> + “You had better go in,” he said curtly. “I will see you safe inside the + house.” + </p> + <p> + She demurred at this, but as she could not persist in her first bold + intention of examining the locality of the vision without admitting its + existence, she permitted him to walk with her to the house, and then at + once fled to her own room. Larry and her father noticed their entrance + together and their agitated manner, and were uneasy. Yet the colonel's + paternal pride and Larry's lover's respect kept the two men from + communicating their thoughts to each other. + </p> + <p> + “The confounded pup has been tryin' to be familiar, and Polly's set him + down,” thought Larry, with glowing satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “He's been trying some of his sanctimonious Yankee abolition talk on + Polly, and she shocked him!” thought the colonel exultingly. + </p> + <p> + But poor Polly had other things to think of in the silence of her room. + Another woman would have unburdened herself to a confidante; but Polly was + too loyal to her father to shatter his beliefs, and too high-spirited to + take another and a lesser person into her confidence. She was certain that + Aunt Chloe would be full of sympathetic belief and speculations, but she + would not trust a nigger with what she couldn't tell her own father. For + Polly really and truly believed that she had seen a ghost, no doubt the + ghost of the murdered Sobriente, according to Larry's story. WHY he should + appear with only his head above ground puzzled her, although it suggested + the Catholic idea of purgatory, and he was a Catholic! Perhaps he would + have risen entirely but for that stupid Starbuck's presence; perhaps he + had a message for HER alone. The idea pleased Polly, albeit it was a + “fearful joy” and attended with some cold shivering. Naturally, as a + gentleman, he would appear to HER—the daughter of a gentleman—the + successor to his house—rather than to a Yankee stranger. What was + she to do? For once her calm nerves were strangely thrilled; she could not + think of undressing and going to bed, and two o'clock surprised her, still + meditating, and occasionally peeping from her window upon the moonlit but + vacant garden. If she saw him again, would she dare to go down alone? + Suddenly she started to her feet with a beating heart! There was the + unmistakable sound of a stealthy footstep in the passage, coming towards + her room. Was it he? In spite of her high resolves she felt that if the + door opened she should scream! She held her breath—the footsteps + came nearer—were before her door—and PASSED! + </p> + <p> + Then it was that the blood rushed back to her cheek with a flush of + indignation. Her room was at the end of the passage; there was nothing + beyond but a private staircase, long disused, except by herself, as a + short cut through the old patio to the garden. No one else knew of it, and + no one else had the right of access to it! This insolent human intrusion—as + she was satisfied it was now—overcame her fear, and she glided to + the door. Opening it softly, she could hear the stealthy footsteps + descending. She darted back, threw a shawl over her head and shoulders, + and taking the small Derringer pistol which it had always been part of her + ostentatious independence to place at her bed-head, she as stealthily + followed the intruder. But the footsteps had died away before she reached + the patio, and she saw only the small deserted, grass-grown courtyard, + half hidden in shadows, in whose centre stood the fateful and long + sealed-up well! A shudder came over her at again being brought into + contact with the cause of her frightful vision, but as her eyes became + accustomed to the darkness, she saw something more real and appalling! The + well was no longer sealed! Fragments of bricks and boards lay around it! + One end of a rope, coiled around it like a huge snake, descended its foul + depths; and as she gazed with staring eyes, the head and shoulders of a + man emerged slowly from it! But it was NOT the ghostly apparition of last + evening, and her terror changed to scorn and indignation as she recognized + the face of Starbuck! + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met; an oath broke from his lips. He made a movement to spring + from the well, but as the girl started back, the pistol held in her hand + was discharged aimlessly in the air, and the report echoed throughout the + courtyard. With a curse Starbuck drew back, instantly disappeared in the + well, and Polly fell fainting on the steps. When she came to, her father + and Larry were at her side. They had been alarmed at the report, and had + rushed quickly to the patio, but not in time to prevent the escape of + Starbuck and his accomplice. By the time she had recovered her + consciousness, they had learned the full extent of that extraordinary + revelation which she had so innocently precipitated. Sobriente's well had + really concealed a rich gold ledge,—actually tunneled and galleried + by him secretly in the past,—and its only other outlet was an + opening in the garden hidden by a stone which turned on a swivel. Its + existence had been unknown to Sobriente's successor, but was known to the + Kanaka who had worked with Sobriente, who fled with his daughter after the + murder, but who no doubt was afraid to return and work the mine. He had + imparted the secret to Starbuck, another half-breed, son of a Yankee + missionary and Hawaiian wife, who had evidently conceived this plan of + seeking Buena Vista with an accomplice, and secretly removing such gold as + was still accessible. The accomplice, afterwards identified by Larry as + the wandering tramp, failed to discover the secret entrance FROM the + garden, and Starbuck was consequently obliged to attempt it from the hotel—for + which purpose he had introduced himself as a boarder—by opening the + disused well secretly at night. These facts were obtained from papers + found in the otherwise valueless trunks, weighted with stones for ballast, + which Starbuck had brought to the hotel to take away his stolen treasure + in, but which he was obliged to leave in his hurried flight. The attempt + would have doubtless succeeded but for Polly's courageous and timely + interference! + </p> + <p> + And now that they had told her ALL, they only wanted to know what had + first excited HER suspicions, and driven her to seek the well as the + object of Starbuck's machinations? THEY had noticed her manner when she + entered the house that night, and Starbuck's evident annoyance. Had she + taxed him with her suspicions, and so discovered a clue? + </p> + <p> + It was a terrible temptation to Polly to pose as a more perfect heroine, + and one may not blame her if she did not rise entirely superior to it. Her + previous belief, that the head of the accomplice at the opening of the + garden was that of a GHOST, she now felt was certainly in the way, as was + also her conduct to Starbuck, whom she believed to be equally frightened, + and whom she never once suspected! So she said, with a certain lofty + simplicity, that there were SOME THINGS which she really did not care to + talk about, and Larry and her father left her that night with the firm + conviction that the rascal Starbuck had tried to tempt her to fly with him + and his riches, and had been crushingly foiled. Polly never denied this, + and once, in later days, when admiringly taxed with it by Larry, she + admitted with dove-like simplicity that she MAY have been too foolishly + polite to her father's guest for the sake of her father's hotel. + </p> + <p> + However, all this was of small account to the thrilling news of a new + discovery and working of the “old gold ledge” at Buena Vista! As the three + kept their secret from the world, the discovery was accepted in the + neighborhood as the result of careful examination and prospecting on the + part of Colonel Swinger and his partner Larry Hawkins. And when the latter + gentleman afterwards boldly proposed to Polly Swinger, she mischievously + declared that she accepted him only that the secret might not go “out of + the family.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LIBERTY JONES'S DISCOVERY + </h2> + <p> + It was at best merely a rocky trail winding along a shelf of the eastern + slope of the Santa Cruz range, yet the only road between the sea and the + inland valley. The hoof-prints of a whole century of zigzagging mules were + impressed on the soil, regularly soaked by winter rains and dried by + summer suns during that period; the occasional ruts of heavy, rude, wooden + wheels—long obsolete—were still preserved and visible. + Weather-worn boulders and ledges, lying in the unclouded glare of an + August sky, radiated a quivering heat that was intolerable, even while + above them the masts of gigantic pines rocked their tops in the cold + southwestern trades from the unseen ocean beyond. A red, burning dust lay + everywhere, as if the heat were slowly and visibly precipitating itself. + </p> + <p> + The creaking of wheels and axles, the muffled plunge of hoofs, and the + cough of a horse in the dust thus stirred presently broke the profound + woodland silence. Then a dirty white canvas-covered emigrant wagon slowly + arose with the dust along the ascent. It was travel-stained and worn, and + with its rawboned horses seemed to have reached the last stage of its + journey and fitness. The only occupants, a man and a girl, appeared to be + equally jaded and exhausted, with the added querulousness of discontent in + their sallow and badly nourished faces. Their voices, too, were not unlike + the creaking they had been pitched to overcome, and there was an absence + of reserve and consciousness in their speech, which told pathetically of + an equal absence of society. + </p> + <p> + “It's no user talkin'! I tell ye, ye hain't got no more sense than a + coyote! I'm sick and tired of it, doggoned if I ain't! Ye ain't no more + use nor a hossfly,—and jest ez hinderin'! It was along o' you that + we lost the stock at Laramie, and ef ye'd bin at all decent and takin', + we'd hev had kempany that helped, instead of laggin' on yere alone!” + </p> + <p> + “What did ye bring me for?” retorted the girl shrilly. “I might hev stayed + with Aunt Marty. I wasn't hankerin' to come.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring ye for?” repeated her father contemptuously; “I reckoned ye might + he o' some account here, whar wimmin folks is skeerce, in the way o' + helpin',—and mebbe gettin' yer married to some likely feller. Mighty + much chance o' that, with yer yaller face and skin and bones.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye can't blame me for takin' arter you, dad,” she said, with a shrill + laugh, but no other resentment of his brutality. + </p> + <p> + “Ye want somebody to take arter you—with a club,” he retorted + angrily. “Ye hear! Wot's that ye're doin' now?” + </p> + <p> + She had risen and walked to the tail of the wagon. “Goin' to get out and + walk. I'm tired o' bein' jawed at.” + </p> + <p> + She jumped into the road. The act was neither indignant nor vengeful; the + frequency of such scenes had blunted their sting. She was probably “tired” + of the quarrel, and ended it rudely. Her father, however, let fly a + Parthian arrow. + </p> + <p> + “Ye needn't think I'm goin' to wait for ye, ez I hev! Ye've got to keep + tetch with the team, or get left. And a good riddance of bad rubbidge.” + </p> + <p> + In reply the girl dived into the underwood beside the trail, picked a wild + berry or two, stripped a wand of young hazel she had broken off, and + switching it at her side, skipped along on the outskirts of the wood and + ambled after the wagon. Seen in the full, merciless glare of a Californian + sky, she justified her father's description; thin and bony, her lank frame + outstripped the body of her ragged calico dress, which was only kept on + her shoulders by straps,—possibly her father's cast-off braces. A + boy's soft felt hat covered her head, and shadowed her only notable + feature, a pair of large dark eyes, looking larger for the hollow temples + which narrowed the frame in which they were set. + </p> + <p> + So long as the wagon crawled up the ascent the girl knew she could easily + keep up with it, or even distance the tired horses. She made one or two + incursions into the wood, returning like an animal from quest of food, + with something in her mouth, which she was tentatively chewing, and once + only with some inedible mandrono berries, plucked solely for their + brilliant coloring. It was very hot and singularly close; the higher + current of air had subsided, and, looking up, a singular haze seemed to + have taken its place between the treetops. Suddenly she heard a strange, + rumbling sound; an odd giddiness overtook her, and she was obliged to + clutch at a sapling to support herself; she laughed vacantly, though a + little frightened, and looked vaguely towards the summit of the road; but + the wagon had already disappeared. A strange feeling of nausea then + overcame her; she spat out the leaves she had been chewing, disgustedly. + But the sensation as quickly passed, and she once more sought the trail + and began slowly to follow the tracks of the wagon. The air blew freshly, + the treetops began again to rock over her head, and the incident was + forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Presently she paused; she must have missed the trail, for the wagon tracks + had ended abruptly before a large boulder that lay across the mountain + trail. She dipped into the woods again; here there were other wagon tracks + that confused her. It was like her dogged, stupid father to miss the + trail; she felt a gleam of malicious satisfaction at his discomfiture. + Sooner or later, he would have to retrace his steps and virtually come + back for her! She took up a position where two rough wheel ruts and tracks + intersected each other, one of which must be the missing trail. She + noticed, too, the broader hoof-prints of cattle without the following + wheel ruts, and instead of traces, the long smooth trails made by the + dragging of logs, and knew by these tokens that she must be near the + highway or some woodman's hut or ranch. She began to be thirsty, and was + glad, presently, when her quick, rustic ear caught the tinkling of water. + Yet it was not so easy to discover, and she was getting footsore and tired + again before she found it, some distance away, in a gully coming from a + fissure in a dislocated piece of outcrop. It was beautifully clear, cold, + and sparkling, with a slightly sweetish taste, yet unlike the brackish + “alkali” of the plains. It refreshed and soothed her greatly, so much + that, reclining against a tree, but where she would be quite visible from + the trail, her eyes closed dreamily, and presently she slept. + </p> + <p> + When she awoke, the shafts of sunlight were striking almost level into her + eyes. She must have slept two hours. Her father had not returned; she knew + the passage of the wagon would have awakened her. She began to feel + strange, but not yet alarmed; it was only the uncertainty that made her + uneasy. Had her father really gone on by some other trail? Or had he + really hurried on and left her, as he said he would? The thought brought + an odd excitement to her rather than any fear. A sudden sense of freedom, + as if some galling chain had dropped from her, sent a singular thrill + through her frame. Yet she felt confused with her independence, not + knowing what to do with it, and momentarily dazzled with the possible + gift. + </p> + <p> + At this moment she heard voices, and the figures of two men appeared on + the trail. + </p> + <p> + They were talking earnestly, and walking as if familiar with the spot, yet + gazing around them as if at some novelty of the aspect. + </p> + <p> + “And look there,” said one; “there has been some serious disturbance of + that outcrop,” pointing in the direction of the spring; “the lower part + has distinctly subsided.” He spoke with a certain authority, and dominance + of position, and was evidently the superior, as he was the elder of the + two, although both were roughly dressed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it does kinder look as if it had lost its holt, like the ledge + yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “And you see I am right; the movement was from east to west,” continued + the elder man. + </p> + <p> + The girl could not comprehend what they said, and even thought them a + little silly. But she advanced towards them; at which they stopped short, + staring at her. With feminine instinct she addressed the more important + one:— + </p> + <p> + “Ye ain't passed no wagon nor team goin' on, hev ye?” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of wagon?” said the man. + </p> + <p> + “Em'grant wagon, two yaller hosses. Old man—my dad—drivin'.” + She added the latter kinship as a protecting influence against strangers, + in spite of her previous independence. + </p> + <p> + The men glanced at each other. + </p> + <p> + “How long ago?” + </p> + <p> + The girl suddenly remembered that she had slept two hours. + </p> + <p> + “Sens noon,” she said hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Since the earthquake?” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's that?” + </p> + <p> + The man came impatiently towards her. “How did you come here?” + </p> + <p> + “Got outer the wagon to walk. I reckon dad missed the trail, and hez got + off somewhere where I can't find him.” + </p> + <p> + “What trail was he on,—where was he going?” + </p> + <p> + “Sank Hozay,* I reckon. He was goin' up the grade—side o' the hill; + he must hev turned off where there's a big rock hangin' over.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * San Jose. +</pre> + <p> + “Did you SEE him turn off?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + The second man, who was in hearing distance, had turned away, and was + ostentatiously examining the sky and the treetops; the man who had spoken + to her joined him, and they said something in a low voice. They turned + again and came slowly towards her. She, from some obscure sense of + imitation, stared at the treetops and the sky as the second man had done. + But the first man now laid his hand kindly on her shoulder and said, “Sit + down.” + </p> + <p> + Then they told her there had been an earthquake so strong that it had + thrown down a part of the hillside, including the wagon trail. That a + wagon team and driver, such as she had described, had been carried down + with it, crushed to fragments, and buried under a hundred feet of rock in + the gulch below. A party had gone down to examine, but it would be weeks + perhaps before they found it, and she must be prepared for the worst. She + looked at them vaguely and with tearless eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then ye reckon dad's dead?” + </p> + <p> + “We fear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then wot's a-goin' to become o' me?” she said simply. + </p> + <p> + They glanced again at each other. “Have you no friends in California?” + said the elder man. + </p> + <p> + “Nary one.” + </p> + <p> + “What was your father going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Dunno. I reckon HE didn't either.” + </p> + <p> + “You may stay here for the present,” said the elder man meditatively. “Can + you milk?” + </p> + <p> + The girl nodded. “And I suppose you know something about looking after + stock?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + The girl remembered that her father thought she didn't, but this was no + time for criticism, and she again nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me,” said the older man, rising. “I suppose,” he added, + glancing at her ragged frock, “everything you have is in the wagon.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, adding with the same cold naivete, “It ain't much!” + </p> + <p> + They walked on, the girl following; at times straying furtively on either + side, as if meditating an escape in the woods,—which indeed had once + or twice been vaguely in her thoughts,—but chiefly to avoid further + questioning and not to hear what the men said to each other. For they were + evidently speaking of her, and she could not help hearing the younger + repeat her words, “Wot's agoin' to become o' me?” with considerable + amusement, and the addition: “She'll take care of herself, you bet! I call + that remark o' hers the richest thing out.” + </p> + <p> + “And I call the state of things that provoked it—monstrous!” said + the elder man grimly. “You don't know the lives of these people.” + </p> + <p> + Presently they came to an open clearing in the forest, yet so incomplete + that many of the felled trees, partly lopped of their boughs, still lay + where they had fallen. There was a cabin or dwelling of unplaned, + unpainted boards; very simple in structure, yet made in a workmanlike + fashion, quite unlike the usual log cabin she had seen. This made her + think that the elder man was a “towny,” and not a frontiersman like the + other. + </p> + <p> + As they approached the cabin the elder man stopped, and turning to her, + said:— + </p> + <p> + “Do you know Indians?” + </p> + <p> + The girl started, and then recovering herself with a quick laugh: “G'lang!—there + ain't any Injins here!” + </p> + <p> + “Not the kind YOU mean; these are very peaceful. There's a squaw here whom + you will”—he stopped, hesitated as he looked critically at the girl, + and then corrected himself—“who will help you.” + </p> + <p> + He pushed open the cabin door and showed an interior, equally simple but + well joined and fitted,—a marvel of neatness and finish to the + frontier girl's eye. There were shelves and cupboards and other + conveniences, yet with no ostentation of refinement to frighten her rustic + sensibilities. + </p> + <p> + Then he pushed open another door leading into a shed and called “Waya.” A + stout, undersized Indian woman, fitted with a coarse cotton gown, but + cleaner and more presentable than the girl's one frock, appeared in the + doorway. “This is Waya, who attends to the cooking and cleaning,” he said; + “and by the way, what is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Libby Jones.” + </p> + <p> + He took a small memorandum book and a “stub” of pencil from his pocket. + “Elizabeth Jones,” he said, writing it down. The girl interposed a long + red hand. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she interrupted sharply, “not Elizabeth, but Libby, short for + Lib'rty.” + </p> + <p> + “Liberty?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Liberty Jones, then. Well, Waya, this is Miss Jones, who will look after + the cows and calves—and the dairy.” Then glancing at her torn dress, + he added: “You'll find some clean things in there, until I can send up + something from San Jose. Waya will show you.” + </p> + <p> + Without further speech he turned away with the other man. When they were + some distance from the cabin, the younger remarked:— + </p> + <p> + “More like a boy than a girl, ain't she?” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better for her work,” returned the elder grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon! I was only thinkin' she didn't han'some much either as a boy or + girl, eh, doctor?” he pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Well! as THAT won't make much difference to the cows, calves, or the + dairy, it needn't trouble US,” returned the doctor dryly. But here a + sudden outburst of laughter from the cabin made them both turn in that + direction. They were in time to see Liberty Jones dancing out of the cabin + door in a large cotton pinafore, evidently belonging to the squaw, who was + following her with half-laughing, half-frightened expostulations. The two + men stopped and gazed at the spectacle. + </p> + <p> + “Don't seem to be takin' the old man's death very pow'fully,” said the + younger, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Quite as much as he deserved, I daresay,” said the doctor curtly. “If the + accident had happened to HER, he would have whined and whimpered to us for + the sake of getting something, but have been as much relieved, you may be + certain. SHE'S too young and too natural to be a hypocrite yet.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the laughter ceased and Liberty Jones's voice arose, shrill but + masterful: “Thar, that'll do! Quit now! You jest get back to your + scrubbin'—d'ye hear? I'm boss o' this shanty, you bet!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor turned with a grim smile to his companion. “That's the only + thing that bothered me, and I've been waiting for. She's settled it. + She'll do. Come.” + </p> + <p> + They turned away briskly through the wood. At the end of half an hour's + walk they found the team that had brought them there in waiting, and drove + towards San Jose. It was nearly ten miles before they passed another + habitation or trace of clearing. And by this time night had fallen upon + the cabin they had left, and upon the newly made orphan and her Indian + companion, alone and contented in that trackless solitude. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Liberty Jones had been a year at the cabin. In that time she had learned + that her employer's name was Doctor Ruysdael, that he had a lucrative + practice in San Jose, but had also “taken up” a league or two of wild + forest land in the Santa Cruz range, which he preserved and held after a + fashion of his own, which gave him the reputation of being a “crank” among + the very few neighbors his vast possessions permitted, and the equally few + friends his singular tastes allowed him. It was believed that a man owning + such an enormous quantity of timber land, who should refuse to set up a + sawmill and absolutely forbid the felling of trees; who should decline to + connect it with the highway to Santa Cruz, and close it against + improvement and speculation, had given sufficient evidence of his + insanity; but when to this was added the rumor that he himself was not + only devoid of the human instinct of hunting the wild animals with which + his domain abounded, but that he held it so sacred to their use as to + forbid the firing of a gun within his limits, and that these restrictions + were further preserved and “policed” by the scattered remnants of a band + of aborigines,—known as “digger Injins,”—it was seriously + hinted that his eccentricity had acquired a political and moral + significance, and demanded legislative interference. But the doctor was a + rich man, a necessity to his patients, a good marksman, and, it was + rumored, did not include his fellow men among the animals he had a + distaste for killing. + </p> + <p> + Of all this, however, Liberty knew little and cared less. The solitude + appealed to her sense of freedom; she did not “hanker” after a society she + had never known. At the end of the first week, when the doctor + communicated to her briefly, by letter, the convincing proofs of the death + of her father and his entombment beneath the sunken cliff, she accepted + the fact without comment or apparent emotion. Two months later, when her + only surviving relative, “Aunt Marty,” of Missouri, acknowledged the news—communicated + by Doctor Ruysdael—with Scriptural quotations and the cheerful hope + that it “would be a lesson to her” and she would “profit in her new + place,” she left her aunt's letter unanswered. + </p> + <p> + She looked after the cows and calves with an interest that was almost + possessory, patronized and played with the squaw,—yet made her feel + her inferiority,—and moved among the peaceful aborigines with the + domination of a white woman and a superior. She tolerated the half-monthly + visits of “Jim Hoskins,” the young companion of the doctor, who she + learned was the doctor's factor and overseer of the property, who lived + seven miles away on an agricultural clearing, and whose control of her + actions was evidently limited by the doctor,—for the doctor's sake + alone. Nor was Mr. Hoskins inclined to exceed those limits. He looked upon + her as something abnormal,—a “crank” as remarkable in her way as her + patron was in his, neuter of sex and vague of race, and he simply + restricted his supervision to the bringing and taking of messages. She + remained sole queen of the domain. A rare straggler from the main road, + penetrating this seclusion, might have scarcely distinguished her from + Waya, in her coarse cotton gown and slouched hat, except for the free + stride which contrasted with her companion's waddle. Once, in following an + estrayed calf, she had crossed the highway and been saluted by a passing + teamster in the digger dialect; yet the mistake left no sting in her + memory. And, like the digger, she shrank from that civilization which had + only proved a hard taskmaster. + </p> + <p> + The sole touch of human interest she had in her surroundings was in the + rare visits of the doctor and his brief but sincere commendation of her + rude and rustic work. It is possible that the strange, middle-aged, + gray-haired, intellectual man, whose very language was at times mysterious + and unintelligible to her, and whose suggestion of power awed her, might + have touched some untried filial chord in her being. Although she felt + that, save for absolute freedom, she was little more to him than she had + been to her father, yet he had never told her she had “no sense,” that she + was “a hindrance,” and he had even praised her performance of her duties. + Eagerly as she looked for his coming, in his actual presence she felt a + singular uneasiness of which she was not entirely ashamed, and if she was + relieved at his departure, it none the less left her to a delightful + memory of him, a warm sense of his approval, and a fierce ambition to be + worthy of it, for which she would have sacrificed herself or the other + miserable retainers about her, as a matter of course. She had driven Waya + and the other squaws far along the sparse tableland pasture in search of + missing stock; she herself had lain out all night on the rocks beside an + ailing heifer. Yet, while satisfied to earn his praise for the performance + of her duty, for some feminine reason she thought more frequently of a + casual remark he had made on his last visit: “You are stronger and more + healthy in this air,” he had said, looking critically into her face. “We + have got that abominable alkali out of your system, and wholesome food + will do the rest.” She was not sure she had quite understood him, but she + remembered that she had felt her face grow hot when he spoke,—perhaps + because she had not understood him. + </p> + <p> + His next visit was a day or two delayed, and in her anxiety she had + ventured as far as the highway to earnestly watch for his coming. From her + hiding-place in the underwood she could see the team and Jim Hoskins + already waiting for him. Presently she saw him drive up to the trail in a + carryall with a party of ladies and gentlemen. He alighted, bade “Good-by” + to the party, and the team turned to retrace its course. But in that + single moment she had been struck and bewildered by what seemed to her the + dazzlingly beautiful apparel of the women, and their prettiness. She felt + a sudden consciousness of her own coarse, shapeless calico gown, her + straggling hair, and her felt hat, and a revulsion of feeling seized her. + She crept like a wounded animal out of the underwood, and then ran swiftly + and almost fiercely back towards the cabin. She ran so fast that for a + time she almost kept pace with the doctor and Hoskins in the wagon on the + distant trail. Then she dived into the underwood again, and making a short + cut through the forest, came at the end of two hours within hailing + distance of the cabin,—footsore and exhausted, in spite of the + strange excitement that had driven her back. Here she thought she heard + voices—his voice among the rest—calling her, but the same + singular revulsion of feeling hurried her vaguely on again, even while she + experienced a foolish savage delight in not answering the summons. In this + erratic wandering she came upon the spring she had found on her first + entrance in the forest a year ago, and drank feverishly a second time at + its trickling source. She could see that since her first visit it had worn + a great hollow below the tree roots and now formed a shining, placid pool. + As she stooped to look at it, she suddenly observed that it reflected her + whole figure as in a cruel mirror,—her slouched hat and loosened + hair, her coarse and shapeless gown, her hollow cheeks and dry yellow + skin,—in all their hopeless, uncompromising details. She uttered a + quick, angry, half-reproachful cry, and turned again to fly. But she had + not gone far before she came upon the hurrying figures and anxious faces + of the doctor and Hoskins. She stopped, trembling and irresolute. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the doctor, in a tone of frank relief. “Here you are! I was + getting worried about you. Waya said you had been gone since morning!” He + stopped and looked at her attentively. “Is anything the matter?” + </p> + <p> + His evident concern sent a warm glow over her chilly frame, and yet the + strange sensation remained. “No—no!” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Ruysdael turned to Hoskins. “Go back and tell Waya I've found her.” + </p> + <p> + Libby felt that the doctor only wanted to get rid of his companion, and + became awed again. + </p> + <p> + “Has anybody been bothering you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Have the diggers frightened you?” + </p> + <p> + “No”—with a gesture of contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Have you and Waya quarreled?” + </p> + <p> + “Nary”—with a faint, tremulous smile. + </p> + <p> + He still stared at her, and then dropped his blue eyes musingly. “Are you + lonely here? Would you rather go to San Jose?” + </p> + <p> + Like a flash the figures of the two smartly dressed women started up + before her again, with every detail of their fresh and wholesome finery as + cruelly distinct as had been her own shapeless ugliness in the mirror of + the spring. “No! NO!” she broke out vehemently and passionately. “Never!” + </p> + <p> + He smiled gently. “Look here! I'll send you up some books. You read—don't + you?” She nodded quickly. “Some magazines and papers. Odd I never thought + of it before,” he added half musingly. “Come along to the cabin. And,” he + stopped again and said decisively, “the next time you want anything, don't + wait for me to come, but write.” + </p> + <p> + A few days after he left she received a package of books,—an odd + collection of novels, magazines, and illustrated journals of the period. + She received them eagerly as an evidence of his concern for her, but it is + to be feared that her youthful nature found little satisfaction in the + gratification of fancy. Many of the people she read of were strange to + her; many of the incidents related seemed to her mere lies; some tales + which treated of people in her own sphere she found profoundly + uninteresting. In one of the cheaper magazines she chanced upon a fashion + plate; she glanced eagerly through all the others for a like revelation + until she got a dozen together, when she promptly relegated the remaining + literature to a corner and oblivion. The text accompanying the plates was + in a jargon not always clear, but her instinct supplied the rest. She + dispatched by Hoskins a note to Doctor Ruysdael: “Please send me some + brite kalikers and things for sewing. You told me to ask.” A few days + later brought the response in a good-sized parcel. + </p> + <p> + Yet this did not keep her from her care of the stock nor her rambles in + the forest; she was quick to utilize her rediscovery of the spring for + watering the cattle; it was not so far afield as the half-dried creek in + the canyon, and was a quiet sylvan spot. She ate her frugal midday meal + there and drank of its waters, and, secure in her seclusion, bathed there + and made her rude toilet when the cows were driven home. But she did not + again look into its mirrored surface when it was tranquil! + </p> + <p> + And so a month passed. But when Doctor Ruysdael was again due at the + cabin, a letter was brought by Hoskins, with the news that he was called + away on professional business down the coast, and could not come until two + weeks later. In the disappointment that overcame her, she did not at first + notice that Hoskins was gazing at her with a singular expression, which + was really one of undisguised admiration. Never having seen this before in + the eyes of any man who looked at her, she referred it to some vague + “larking” or jocularity, for which she was in no mood. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Libby! you're gettin' to be a right smart-lookin' gal. Seems to + agree with ye up here,” said Hoskins with an awkward laugh. “Darned ef ye + ain't lookin' awful purty!” + </p> + <p> + “G'long!” said Liberty Jones, more than ever convinced of his badinage. + </p> + <p> + “Fact,” said Hoskins energetically. “Why, Doc would tell ye so, too. See + ef he don't!” + </p> + <p> + At this Liberty Jones felt her face grow hot. “You jess get!” she said, + turning away in as much embarrassment as anger. Yet he hovered near her + with awkward attentions that pleased while it still angered her. He + offered to go with her to look up the cows; she flatly declined, yet with + a strange satisfaction in his evident embarrassment. This may have lent + some animation to her face, for he drew a long breath and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Don't go pertendin' ye don't know yer purty. Say, let me and you walk a + bit and have a talk together.” But Libby had another idea in her mind and + curtly dismissed him. Then she ran swiftly to the spring, for the words + “The Doc will tell ye so, too” were ringing in her ears. The doctor who + came with the two beautifully dressed women! HE—would tell her she + was pretty! She had not dared to look at herself in that crystal mirror + since that dreadful day two months ago. She would now. + </p> + <p> + It was a pretty place in the cool shade of the giant trees, and the + hoof-marks of cattle drinking from the run beneath the pool had not + disturbed the margin of that tranquil sylvan basin. For a moment she stood + tremulous and uncertain, and then going up to the shining mirror, dropped + on her knees before it with her thin red hands clasped on her lap. + Unconsciously she had taken the attitude of prayer; perhaps there was + something like it in her mind. + </p> + <p> + And then the light glanced full on the figure that she saw there! + </p> + <p> + It fell on a full oval face and throat guileless of fleck or stain, smooth + as a child's and glowing with health; on large dark eyes, no longer sunk + in their orbits, but filled with an eager, happy light; on bared arms now + shapely in contour and cushioned with firm flesh; on a dazzling smile, the + like of which had never been on the face of Liberty Jones before! + </p> + <p> + She rose to her feet, and yet lingered as if loath to part from this + delightful vision. Then a fear overcame her that it was some trick of the + water, and she sped swiftly back to the house to consult the little mirror + which hung in her sleeping-room, but which she had never glanced at since + the momentous day of the spring. She took it shyly into the sunshine, and + found that it corroborated the reflection of the spring. That night she + worked until late at the calico Doctor Ruysdael had sent her, and went to + bed happy. The next day brought her Hoskins again with a feeble excuse of + inquiring if she had a letter for the doctor, and she was surprised to + find that he was reinforced by a stranger from Hoskins's farm, who was + equally awkward and vaguely admiring. But the appearance of the TWO men + produced a singular phase in her impressions and experience. She was no + longer indignant at Hoskins, but she found relief in accepting the + compliments of the stranger in preference, and felt a delight in Hoskins's + discomfiture. Waya, promoted to the burlesque of a chaperone, grinned with + infinite delight and understanding. + </p> + <p> + When at last the day came for the doctor's arrival, he was duly met by + Hoskins, and as duly informed by that impressible subordinate of the great + change in Liberty's appearance. But the doctor was far from being equally + impressed with his factor's story, and indeed showed much more interest in + the appearance of the stock which they met along the road. Once the doctor + got out of the wagon to inspect a cow, and particularly the coat of a + rough draught horse that had been turned out and put under Liberty's care. + “His skin is like velvet,” said the doctor. “The girl evidently + understands stock, and knows how to keep them in condition.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon she's beginning to understand herself, too,” said Hoskins. + “Golly! wait till ye see HER.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor DID see her, but with what feelings he did not as frankly + express. She was not at the cabin when they arrived, but presently + appeared from the direction of the spring where, for reasons of her own, + she had evidently made her toilet. Doctor Ruysdael was astounded; + Hoskins's praise was not exaggerated; and there was an added charm that + Hoskins was not prepared for. She had put on a gown of her own making,—the + secret toil of many a long night,—amateurishly fashioned from some + cheap yellow calico the doctor had sent her, yet fitting her wonderfully, + and showing every curve of her graceful figure. Unaccented by a corset,—an + article she had never known,—even the lines of the stiff, unyielding + calico had a fashion that was nymph-like and suited her unfettered limbs. + Doctor Ruysdael was profoundly moved. Though a philosopher, he was + practical. He found himself suddenly confronted not only by a beautiful + girl, but a problem! It was impossible to keep the existence of this + woodland nymph from the knowledge of his distant neighbors; it was equally + impossible for him to assume the responsibility of keeping a goddess like + this in her present position. He had noticed her previous improvement, but + had never dreamed that pure and wholesome living could in two months work + such a miracle. And he was to a certain degree responsible, HE had created + her,—a beautiful Frankenstein, whose lustrous, appealing eyes were + even now menacing his security and position. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps she saw trouble and perplexity in the face where she had expected + admiration and pleasure, for a slight chill went over her as he quickly + praised the appearance of the stock and spoke of her own improvement. But + when they were alone, he turned to her abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “You said you had no wish to go to San Jose?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” Yet she was conscious that her greatest objection had been removed, + and she colored faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he said dryly. “You deserve a better position than this,—a + better home and surroundings than you have here. You are older, too,—a + woman almost,—and you must look ahead.” + </p> + <p> + A look of mingled fright, reproach, and appeal came into her eloquent + face. “Yer wantin' to send me away?” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said frankly. “It is you who are GROWING away. This is no longer + the place for you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I want to stay. I don't wanter go. I am—I WAS happy here.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm thinking of giving up this place. It takes up too much of my + time. You must be provided”— + </p> + <p> + “YOU are going away?” she said passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Take me with you. I'll go anywhere!—to San Jose—-wherever you + go. Don't turn me off as dad did, for I'll foller you as I never followed + dad. I'll go with you—or I'll die!” + </p> + <p> + There was neither fear nor shame in her words; it was the outspoken + instinct of the animal he had been rearing; he was convinced and appalled + by it. + </p> + <p> + “I am returning to San Jose at once,” he said gravely. “You shall go with + me—FOR THE PRESENT! Get yourself ready!” + </p> + <p> + He took her to San Jose, and temporarily to the house of a patient,—a + widow lady,—while he tried, alone, to grapple with the problem that + now confronted him. But that problem became more complicated at the end of + the third day, by Liberty Jones falling suddenly and alarmingly ill. The + symptoms were so grave that the doctor, in his anxiety, called in a + brother physician in consultation. When the examination was over, the two + men withdrew and stared at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Of course there is no doubt that the symptoms all point to slow arsenical + poisoning,” said the consulting doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Ruysdael quickly, “yet it is utterly inexplicable, both as to + motive and opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” said the other grimly, “young ladies take arsenic in minute doses + to improve the complexion and promote tissue, forgetting that the effects + are cumulative when they stop suddenly. Your young friend has 'sworn off' + too quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is impossible,” said Doctor Ruysdael impatiently. “She is a mere + child—a country girl—ignorant of such habits.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! the peasants in the Tyrol try it on themselves after noticing the + effect on the coats of cattle.” + </p> + <p> + Doctor Ruysdael started. A recollection of the sleek draught horse flashed + upon him. He rose and hastily re-entered the patient's room. In a few + moments he returned. “Do you think I could remove her at once to the + mountains?” he said gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, with care and a return to graduated doses of the same poison; you + know it's the only remedy just now,” answered the other. + </p> + <p> + By noon the next day the doctor and his patient had returned to the cabin, + but Ruysdael himself carried the helpless Liberty Jones to the spring and + deposited her gently beside it. “You may drink now,” he said gravely. + </p> + <p> + The girl did so eagerly, apparently imbibing new strength from the + sparkling water. The doctor meanwhile coolly filled a phial from the same + source, and made a hasty test of the contents by the aid of some other + phials from his case. The result seemed to satisfy him. Then he said + gravely: + </p> + <p> + “And THIS is the spring you had discovered?” + </p> + <p> + The girl nodded. + </p> + <p> + “And you and the cattle have daily used it?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded again wonderingly. Then she caught his hand appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “You won't send me away?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled oddly as he glanced from the waters of the hill to the brimming + eyes. “No.” + </p> + <p> + “No-r,” tremulously, “go away—yourself?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked this time only into her eyes. There was a tremendous + idea in his own, which seemed in some way to have solved that dreadful + problem. + </p> + <p> + “No! We will stay here TOGETHER.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Six months later there was a paragraph in the San Francisco press: “The + wonderful Arsenical Spring in the Santa Cruz Mountain, known as 'Liberty + Spring,' discovered by Doctor Ruysdael, has proved such a remarkable + success that we understand the temporary huts for patients are to be + shortly replaced by a magnificent Spa Hotel worthy of the spot, and the + eligible villa sites it has brought into the market. It will be a source + of pleasure to all to know that the beautiful nymph—a worthy + successor to the far-famed 'Elise' of the German 'Brunnen'—who has + administered the waters to so many grateful patients will still be in + attendance, although it is rumored that she is shortly to become the wife + of the distinguished discoverer.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation and Other +Stories, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. 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