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diff --git a/2705-h/2705-h.htm b/2705-h/2705-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3257c50 --- /dev/null +++ b/2705-h/2705-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7483 @@ +<?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> + Sally Dows, 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 Sally Dows 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: Sally Dows and Other Stories + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 25, 2006 [EBook #2705] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALLY DOWS AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SALLY DOWS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Bret Harte + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>SALLY DOWS.</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE CONSPIRACY OF MRS. BUNKER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE TRANSFORMATION OF BUCKEYE CAMP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THEIR UNCLE FROM CALIFORNIA. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SALLY DOWS. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PROL" id="link2H_PROL"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <h3> + THE LAST GUN AT SNAKE RIVER. + </h3> + <p> + What had been in the cool gray of that summer morning a dewy country lane, + marked only by a few wagon tracks that never encroached upon its grassy + border, and indented only by the faint footprints of a crossing fox or + coon, was now, before high noon, already crushed, beaten down, and + trampled out of all semblance of its former graciousness. The heavy + springless jolt of gun-carriage and caisson had cut deeply through the + middle track; the hoofs of crowding cavalry had struck down and shredded + the wayside vines and bushes to bury them under a cloud of following dust, + and the short, plunging double-quick of infantry had trodden out this + hideous ruin into one dusty level chaos. Along that rudely widened highway + useless muskets, torn accoutrements, knapsacks, caps, and articles of + clothing were scattered, with here and there the larger wrecks of + broken-down wagons, roughly thrown aside into the ditch to make way for + the living current. For two hours the greater part of an army corps had + passed and repassed that way, but, coming or going, always with faces + turned eagerly towards an open slope on the right which ran parallel to + the lane. And yet nothing was to be seen there. For two hours a gray and + bluish cloud, rent and shaken with explosion after explosion, but always + closing and thickening after each discharge, was all that had met their + eyes. Nevertheless, into this ominous cloud solid moving masses of men in + gray or blue had that morning melted away, or emerged from it only as + scattered fragments that crept, crawled, ran, or clung together in groups, + to be followed, and overtaken in the rolling vapor. + </p> + <p> + But for the last half hour the desolated track had stretched empty and + deserted. While there was no cessation of the rattling, crackling, and + detonations on the fateful slope beyond, it had still been silent. Once or + twice it had been crossed by timid, hurrying wings, and frightened and + hesitating little feet, or later by skulkers and stragglers from the main + column who were tempted to enter it from the hedges and bushes where they + had been creeping and hiding. Suddenly a prolonged yell from the hidden + slope beyond—the nearest sound that had yet been heard from that + ominous distance—sent them to cover again. It was followed by the + furious galloping of horses in the lane, and a handsome, red-capped + officer, accompanied by an orderly, dashed down the track, wheeled, leaped + the hedge, rode out on the slope and halted. In another instant a cloud of + dust came whirling down the lane after him. Out of it strained the heavy + shoulders and tightened chain-traces of six frantic horses dragging the + swaying gun that in this tempest of motion alone seemed passive and + helpless with an awful foreknowledge of its power. As in obedience to a + signal from the officer they crashed through the hedge after him, a sudden + jolt threw an artilleryman from the limber before the wheel. A driver + glanced back on the tense chain and hesitated. “Go on!” yelled the + prostrate man, and the wheel went over him. Another and another gun + followed out of the dust cloud, until the whole battery had deployed on + the slope. Before the drifting dust had fairly settled, the falling back + of the panting horses with their drivers gave a momentary glimpse of the + nearest gun already in position and of the four erect figures beside it. + The yell that seemed to have evoked this sudden apparition again sounded + nearer; a blinding flash broke from the gun, which was instantly hidden by + the closing group around it, and a deafening crash with the high ringing + of metal ran down the lane. A column of white, woolly smoke arose as + another flash broke beside it. This was quickly followed by another and + another, with a response from the gun first fired, until the whole slope + shook and thundered. And the smoke, no longer white and woolly, but + darkening and thickening as with unburnt grains of gunpowder, mingled into + the one ominous vapor, and driving along the lane hid even the slope from + view. + </p> + <p> + The yelling had ceased, but the grinding and rattling heard through the + detonation of cannon came nearer still, and suddenly there was a shower of + leaves and twigs from the lower branches of a chestnut-tree near the + broken hedge. As the smoke thinned again a rising and falling medley of + flapping hats, tossing horses' heads and shining steel appeared for an + instant, advancing tumultuously up the slope. But the apparition was as + instantly cloven by flame from the two nearest guns, and went down in a + gush of smoke and roar of sound. So level was the delivery and so close + the impact that a space seemed suddenly cleared between, in which the + whirling of the shattered remnants of the charging cavalry was distinctly + seen, and the shouts and oaths of the inextricably struggling mass became + plain and articulate. Then a gunner serving the nearest piece suddenly + dropped his swab and seized a carbine, for out of the whirling confusion + before them a single rider was seen galloping furiously towards the gun. + </p> + <p> + The red-capped young officer rode forward and knocked up the gunner's + weapon with his sword. For in that rapid glance he had seen that the + rider's reins were hanging loosely on the neck of his horse, who was still + dashing forwards with the frantic impetus of the charge, and that the + youthful figure of the rider, wearing the stripes of a lieutenant,—although + still erect, exercised no control over the animal. The face was boyish, + blond, and ghastly; the eyes were set and glassy. It seemed as if Death + itself were charging the gun. + </p> + <p> + Within a few feet of it the horse swerved before a brandished rammer, and + striking the cheeks of the gun-carriage pitched his inanimate rider across + the gun. The hot blood of the dead man smoked on the hotter brass with the + reek of the shambles, and be-spattered the hand of the gunner who still + mechanically served the vent. As they lifted the dead body down the order + came to “cease firing.” For the yells from below had ceased too; the + rattling and grinding were receding with the smoke farther to the left. + The ominous central cloud parted for a brief moment and showed the + unexpected sun glittering down the slope upon a near and peaceful river. + </p> + <p> + The young artillery officer had dismounted and was now gently examining + the dead man. His breast had been crushed by a fragment of shell; he must + have died instantly. The same missile had cut the chain of a locket which + slipped from his opened coat. The officer picked it up with a strange + feeling—perhaps because he was conscious himself of wearing a + similar one, perhaps because it might give him some clue to the man's + identity. It contained only the photograph of a pretty girl, a tendril of + fair hair, and the word “Sally.” In the breast-pocket was a sealed letter + with the inscription, “For Miss Sally Dows. To be delivered if I fall by + the mudsill's hand.” A faint smile came over the officer's face; he was + about to hand the articles to a sergeant, but changed his mind and put + them in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the lane and woods beyond, and even the slope itself, were + crowding with supports and waiting troops. His own battery was still + unlimbered, waiting orders. There was a slight commotion in the lane. + </p> + <p> + “Very well done, captain. Smartly taken and gallantly held.” + </p> + <p> + It was the voice of a general officer passing with his staff. There was a + note of pleasant relief in its tone, and the middle-aged, care-drawn face + of its owner was relaxed in a paternal smile. The young captain flushed + with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “And you seem to have had close work too,” added the general, pointing to + the dead man. + </p> + <p> + The young officer hurriedly explained. The general nodded, saluted, and + passed on. But a youthful aide airily lingered. + </p> + <p> + “The old man's feeling good, Courtland,” he said. “We've rolled 'em up all + along the line. It's all over now. In point of fact, I reckon you've fired + the last round in this particular fratricidal engagement.” + </p> + <p> + The last round! Courtland remained silent, looking abstractedly at the man + it had crushed and broken at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “And I shouldn't wonder if you got your gold-leaf for to-day's work. But + who's your sunny Southern friend here?” he added, following his + companion's eyes. + </p> + <p> + Courtland repeated his story a little more seriously, which, however, + failed to subdue the young aide's levity. “So he concluded to stop over,” + he interrupted cheerfully. “But,” looking at the letter and photograph, “I + say—look here! 'Sally Dows?' Why, there was another man picked up + yesterday with a letter to the same girl! Doc Murphy has it. And, by Jove! + the same picture too!—eh? I say, Sally must have gathered in the + boys, and raked down the whole pile! Look here, Courty! you might get Doc + Murphy's letter and hunt her up when this cruel war is over. Say you're + 'fulfilling a sacred trust!' See? Good idea, old man! Ta-ta!” and he + trotted quickly after his superior. + </p> + <p> + Courtland remained with the letter and photograph in his hand, gazing + abstractedly after him. The smoke had rolled quite away from the fields on + the left, but still hung heavily down the south on the heels of the flying + cavalry. A long bugle call swelled up musically from below. The freed sun + caught the white flags of two field hospitals in the woods and glanced + tranquilly on the broad, cypress-fringed, lazy-flowing, and cruel but + beautiful Southern river, which had all unseen crept so smilingly that + morning through the very heart of the battle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + The two o'clock express from Redlands to Forestville, Georgia, had been + proceeding with the languid placidity of the river whose banks it skirted + for more than two hours. But, unlike the river, it had stopped frequently; + sometimes at recognized stations and villages, sometimes at the apparition + of straw-hatted and linen-coated natives in the solitude of pine woods, + where, after a decent interval of cheery conversation with the conductor + and engineer, it either took the stranger on board, or relieved him of his + parcel, letter, basket, or even the verbal message with which he was + charged. Much of the way lay through pine-barren and swampy woods which + had never been cleared or cultivated; much through decayed settlements and + ruined villages that had remained unchanged since the War of the + Rebellion, now three years past. There were vestiges of the severity of a + former military occupation; the blackened timbers of railway bridges still + unrepaired; and along the line of a certain memorable march, sections of + iron rails taken from the torn-up track, roasted in bonfires and bent + while red-hot around the trunks of trees, were still to be seen. These + mementos of defeat seemed to excite neither revenge nor the energy to + remove them; the dull apathy which had succeeded the days of hysterical + passion and convulsion still lingered; even the slow improvement that + could be detected was marked by the languor of convalescence. The + helplessness of a race, hitherto dependent upon certain barbaric + conditions or political place and power, unskilled in invention, and + suddenly confronted with the necessity of personal labor, was visible + everywhere. Eyes that but three short years before had turned vindictively + to the North, now gazed wistfully to that quarter for help and direction. + They scanned eagerly the faces of their energetic and prosperous neighbors—and + quondam foes—upon the verandas of Southern hotels and the decks of + Southern steamboats, and were even now watching from a group in the woods + the windows of the halted train, where the faces appeared of two men of + manifestly different types, but still alien to the country in dress, + features, and accent. + </p> + <p> + Two negroes were slowly loading the engine tender from a woodpile. The + rich brown smoke of the turpentine knots was filling the train with its + stinging fragrance. The elder of the two Northern passengers, with sharp + New England angles in his face, impatiently glanced at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “Of all created shiftlessness, this beats everything! Why couldn't we have + taken in enough wood to last the ten miles farther to the terminus when we + last stopped? And why in thunder, with all this firing up, can't we go + faster?” + </p> + <p> + The younger passenger, whose quiet, well-bred face seemed to indicate more + discipline of character, smiled. + </p> + <p> + “If you really wish to know and as we've only ten miles farther to go—I'll + show you WHY. Come with me.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way through the car to the platform and leaped down. Then he + pointed significantly to the rails below them. His companion started. The + metal was scaling off in thin strips from the rails, and in some places + its thickness had been reduced a quarter of an inch, while in others the + projecting edges were torn off, or hanging in iron shreds, so that the + wheels actually ran on the narrow central strip. It seemed marvelous that + the train could keep the track. + </p> + <p> + “NOW you know why we don't go more than five miles an hour, and—are + thankful that we don't,” said the young traveler quietly. + </p> + <p> + “But this is disgraceful!—criminal!” ejaculated the other nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Not at their rate of speed,” returned the younger man. “The crime would + be in going faster. And now you can understand why a good deal of the + other progress in this State is obliged to go as slowly over their equally + decaying and rotten foundations. You can't rush things here as we do in + the North.” + </p> + <p> + The other passenger shrugged his shoulders as they remounted the platform, + and the train moved on. It was not the first time that the two + fellow-travelers had differed, although their mission was a common one. + The elder, Mr. Cyrus Drummond, was the vice-president of a large Northern + land and mill company, which had bought extensive tracts of land in + Georgia, and the younger, Colonel Courtland, was the consulting surveyor + and engineer for the company. Drummond's opinions were a good deal + affected by sectional prejudice, and a self-satisfied and righteous + ignorance of the actual conditions and limitations of the people with whom + he was to deal; while the younger man, who had served through the war with + distinction, retained a soldier's respect and esteem for his late + antagonists, with a conscientious and thoughtful observation of their + character. Although he had resigned from the army, the fact that he had + previously graduated at West Point with high honors had given him + preferment in this technical appointment, and his knowledge of the country + and its people made him a valuable counselor. And it was a fact that the + country people had preferred this soldier with whom they had once + personally grappled to the capitalist they had never known during the + struggle. + </p> + <p> + The train rolled slowly through the woods, so slowly that the fragrant + pine smoke from the engine still hung round the windows of the cars. + Gradually the “clearings” became larger; they saw the distant white wooden + colonnades of some planter's house, looking still opulent and pretentious, + although the fence of its inclosure had broken gaps, and the gate sagged + on its single hinge. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Drummond sniffed at this damning record of neglect and indifference. + “Even if they were ruined, they might still have spent a few cents for + nails and slats to enable them to look decent before folks, and not parade + their poverty before their neighbors,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “But that's just where you misunderstand them, Drummond,” said Courtland, + smiling. “They have no reason to keep up an attitude towards their + neighbors, who still know them as 'Squire' so-and-so, 'Colonel' this and + that, and the 'Judge,'—owners of their vast but crippled estates. + They are not ashamed of being poor, which is an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “But they are of working, which is DELIBERATION,” interrupted Drummond. + “They are ashamed to mend their fences themselves, now that they have no + slaves to do it for them.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt very much if some of them know how to drive a nail, for the + matter of that,” said Courtland, still good-humoredly, “but that's the + fault of a system older than themselves, which the founders of the + Republic retained. We cannot give them experience in their new condition + in one day, and in fact, Drummond, I am very much afraid that for our + purposes—and I honestly believe for THEIR good—we must help to + keep them for the present as they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said Drummond sarcastically, “you would like to reinstate + slavery?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But I should like to reinstate the MASTER. And not for HIS sake + alone, but for freedom's sake and OURS. To be plain: since I have taken up + this matter for the company, I have satisfied myself from personal + observation that the negro—even more than his master—cannot + handle his new condition. He is accustomed to his old traditional + task-master, and I doubt if he will work fairly for any other—particularly + for those who don't understand him. Don't mistake me: I don't propose to + go back to the whip; to that brutal institution, the irresponsible + overseer; to the buying and selling, and separation of the family, nor any + of the old wrongs; but I propose to make the old master OUR OVERSEER, and + responsible to US. He is not a fool, and has already learned that it is + more profitable to pay wages to his old slaves and have the power of + dismissal, like any other employer, than be obliged, under the old system + of enforced labor and life servitude, to undergo the cost of maintaining + incompetence and idleness. The old sentiment of slave-owning has + disappeared before natural common-sense and selfishness. I am satisfied + that by some such process as this utilizing of the old master and the new + freedom we will be better able to cultivate our lands than by buying up + their estates, and setting the old owners adrift, with a little money in + their pockets, as an idle, discontented class to revive old political + dogmas, and foment new issues, or perhaps set up a dangerous opposition to + us. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say that those infernal niggers would give the + preference to their old oppressors?” + </p> + <p> + “Dollar for dollar in wages—yes! And why shouldn't they? Their old + masters understand them better—and treat them generally better. They + know our interest in them is only an abstract sentiment, not a real + liking. We show it at every turn. But we are nearing Redlands, and Major + Reed will, I have no doubt, corroborate my impressions. He insists upon + our staying at his house, although the poor old fellow, I imagine, can ill + afford to entertain company. But he will be offended if we refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a friend of yours, then?” asked Drummond. + </p> + <p> + “I fought against his division at Stony Creek,” said Courtland grimly. “He + never tires of talking of it to me—so I suppose I am.” + </p> + <p> + A few moments later the train glided beside the Redlands platform. As the + two travelers descended a hand was laid on Courtland's shoulder, and a + stout figure in the blackest and shiniest of alpaca jackets, and the + whitest and broadest of Panama hats, welcomed him. “Glad to see yo', + cun'nel. I reckoned I'd waltz over and bring along the boy,” pointing to a + grizzled negro servant of sixty who was bowing before them, “to tote yo'r + things over instead of using a hack. I haven't run much on horseflesh + since the wah—ha! ha! What I didn't use up for remounts I reckon + yo'r commissary gobbled up with the other live stock, eh?” He laughed + heartily, as if the recollections were purely humorous, and again clapped + Courtland on the back. + </p> + <p> + “Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Drummond, Major Reed,” said Courtland, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yo' were in the wah, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No—I”—returned Drummond, hesitating, he knew not why, and + angry at his own embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Drummond, the vice-president of the company,” interposed Courtland + cheerfully, “was engaged in furnishing to us the sinews of war.” + </p> + <p> + Major Reed bowed a little more formally. “Most of us heah, sir, were in + the wah some time or other, and if you gentlemen will honah me by joining + in a social glass at the hotel across the way, I'll introduce you to + Captain Prendergast, who left a leg at Fair Oaks.” Drummond would have + declined, but a significant pressure on his arm from Courtland changed his + determination. He followed them to the hotel and into the presence of the + one-legged warrior (who turned out to be the landlord and barkeeper), to + whom Courtland was hilariously introduced by Major Reed as “the man, sir, + who had pounded my division for three hours at Stony Creek!” + </p> + <p> + Major Reed's house was but a few minutes' walk down the dusty lane, and + was presently heralded by the baying of three or four foxhounds and + foreshadowed by a dilapidated condition of picket-fence and stuccoed gate + front. Beyond it stretched the wooden Doric columns of the usual Southern + mansion, dimly seen through the broad leaves of the horse-chestnut-trees + that shaded it. There were the usual listless black shadows haunting the + veranda and outer offices—former slaves and still attached + house-servants, arrested like lizards in breathless attitudes at the + approach of strange footsteps, and still holding the brush, broom, duster, + or home implement they had been lazily using, in their fixed hands. From + the doorway of the detached kitchen, connected by a gallery to the wing of + the mansion, “Aunt Martha,” the cook, gazed also, with a saucepan clasped + to her bosom, and her revolving hand with the scrubbing cloth in it + apparently stopped on a dead centre. + </p> + <p> + Drummond, whose gorge had risen at these evidences of hopeless incapacity + and utter shiftlessness, was not relieved by the presence of Mrs. Reed—a + soured, disappointed woman of forty, who still carried in her small dark + eyes and thin handsome lips something of the bitterness and antagonism of + the typical “Southern rights” woman; nor of her two daughters, Octavia and + Augusta, whose languid atrabiliousness seemed a part of the mourning they + still wore. The optimistic gallantry and good fellowship of the major + appeared the more remarkable by contrast with his cypress-shadowed family + and their venomous possibilities. Perhaps there might have been a light + vein of Southern insincerity in his good humor. “Paw,” said Miss Octavia, + with gloomy confidence to Courtland, but with a pretty curl of the + hereditary lip, “is about the only 'reconstructed' one of the entire + family. We don't make 'em much about yer. But I'd advise yo' friend, Mr. + Drummond, if he's coming here carpet-bagging, not to trust too much to + paw's 'reconstruction.' It won't wash.” But when Courtland hastened to + assure her that Drummond was not a “carpet-bagger,” was not only free from + any of the political intrigue implied under that baleful title, but was a + wealthy Northern capitalist simply seeking investment, the young lady was + scarcely more hopeful. “I suppose he reckons to pay paw for those niggers + yo' stole?” she suggested with gloomy sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Courtland, smiling; “but what if he reckoned to pay those + niggers for working for your father and him?” + </p> + <p> + “If paw is going into trading business with him; if Major Reed—a + So'th'n gentleman—is going to keep shop, he ain't such a fool as to + believe niggers will work when they ain't obliged to. THAT'S been tried + over at Mirandy Dows's, not five miles from here, and the niggers are half + the time hangin' round here takin' holiday. She put up new quarters for + 'em, and tried to make 'em eat together at a long table like those + low-down folks up North, and did away with their cabins and their melon + patches, and allowed it would get 'em out of lying round too much, and + wanted 'em to work over-time and get mo' pay. And the result was that she + and her niece, and a lot of poor whites, Irish and Scotch, that she had to + pick up ''long the river,' do all the work. And her niece Sally was mo' + than half Union woman during the wah, and up to all No'th'n tricks and + dodges, and swearin' by them; and yet, for all that—the thing won't + work.” + </p> + <p> + “But isn't that partly the reason? Isn't her failure a great deal due to + this lack of sympathy from her neighbors? Discontent is easily sown, and + the negro is still weighted down by superstition; the Fifteenth Amendment + did not quite knock off ALL his chains.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that is nothing to HER. For if there ever was a person in this + world who reckoned she was just born to manage everything and everybody, + it is Sally Dows!” + </p> + <p> + “Sally Dows!” repeated Courtland, with a slight start. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Sally Dows, of Pineville.” + </p> + <p> + “You say she was half Union, but did she have any relations or—or—friends—in + the war—on your side? Any—who—were killed in battle?” + </p> + <p> + “They were all killed, I reckon,” returned Miss Reed darkly. “There was + her cousin, Jule Jeffcourt, shot in the cemetery with her beau, who, they + say, was Sally's too; there were Chet Brooks and Joyce Masterton, who were + both gone on her and both killed too; and there was old Captain Dows + himself, who never lifted his head again after Richmond was taken, and + drank himself to death. It wasn't considered healthy to be Miss Sally's + relations in those times, or to be even wantin' to be one.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Courtland did not reply. The face of the dead young officer coming + towards him out of the blue smoke rose as vividly as on that memorable + day. The picture and letter he had taken from the dead man's breast, which + he had retained ever since; the romantic and fruitless quest he had made + for the fair original in after days; and the strange and fateful interest + in her which had grown up in his heart since then, he now knew had only + been lulled to sleep in the busy preoccupation of the last six months, for + it all came back to him with redoubled force. His present mission and its + practical object, his honest zeal in its pursuit, and the cautious skill + and experience he had brought to it, all seemed to be suddenly displaced + by this romantic and unreal fantasy. Oddly enough it appeared now to be + the only reality in his life, the rest was an incoherent, purposeless + dream. + </p> + <p> + “Is—is—Miss Sally married?” he asked, collecting himself with + an effort. + </p> + <p> + “Married? Yes, to that farm of her aunt's! I reckon that's the only thing + she cares for.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland looked up, recovering his usual cheerful calm. “Well, I think + that after luncheon I'll pay my respects to her family. From what you have + just told me the farm is certainly an experiment worth seeing. I suppose + your father will have no objection to give me a letter to Miss Dows?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + Nevertheless, as Colonel Courtland rode deliberately towards Dows' Folly, + as the new experiment was locally called, although he had not abated his + romantic enthusiasm in the least, he was not sorry that he was able to + visit it under a practical pretext. It was rather late now to seek out + Miss Sally Dows with the avowed intent of bringing her a letter from an + admirer who had been dead three years, and whose memory she had probably + buried. Neither was it tactful to recall a sentiment which might have been + a weakness of which she was ashamed. Yet, clear-headed and logical as + Courtland was in his ordinary affairs, he was nevertheless not entirely + free from that peculiar superstition which surrounds every man's romance. + He believed there was something more than a mere coincidence in his + unexpectedly finding himself in such favorable conditions for making her + acquaintance. For the rest—if there was any rest—he would + simply trust to fate. And so, believing himself a cool, sagacious + reasoner, but being actually, as far as Miss Dows was concerned, as blind, + fatuous, and unreasoning as any of her previous admirers, he rode + complacently forward until he reached the lane that led to the Dows + plantation. + </p> + <p> + Here a better kept roadway and fence, whose careful repair would have + delighted Drummond, seemed to augur well for the new enterprise. + Presently, even the old-fashioned local form of the fence, a slanting + zigzag, gave way to the more direct line of post and rail in the Northern + fashion. Beyond it presently appeared a long low frontage of modern + buildings which, to Courtland's surprise, were entirely new in structure + and design. There was no reminiscence of the usual Southern porticoed + gable or columned veranda. Yet it was not Northern either. The + factory-like outline of facade was partly hidden in Cherokee rose and + jessamine. + </p> + <p> + A long roofed gallery connected the buildings and became a veranda to one. + A broad, well-rolled gravel drive led from the open gate to the newest + building, which seemed to be the office; a smaller path diverged from it + to the corner house, which, despite its severe simplicity, had a more + residential appearance. Unlike Reed's house, there were no lounging + servants or field hands to be seen; they were evidently attending to their + respective duties. Dismounting, Courtland tied his horse to a post at the + office door and took the smaller path to the corner house. + </p> + <p> + The door was open to the fragrant afternoon breeze wafted through the rose + and jessamine. So also was a side door opening from the hall into a long + parlor or sitting-room that ran the whole width of the house. Courtland + entered it. It was prettily furnished, but everything had the air of + freshness and of being uncharacteristically new. It was empty, but a faint + hammering was audible on the rear wall of the house, through the two open + French windows at the back, curtained with trailing vines, which gave upon + a sunlit courtyard. Courtland walked to the window. Just before it, on the + ground, stood a small light ladder, which he gently put aside to gain a + better view of the courtyard as he put on his hat, and stepped out of the + open window. + </p> + <p> + In this attitude he suddenly felt his hat tipped from his head, followed + almost instantaneously by a falling slipper, and the distinct impression + of a very small foot on the crown of his head. An indescribable sensation + passed over him. He hurriedly stepped back into the room, just as a small + striped-stockinged foot was as hastily drawn up above the top of the + window with the feminine exclamation, “Good gracious me!” + </p> + <p> + Lingering for an instant, only to assure himself that the fair speaker had + secured her foothold and was in no danger of falling, Courtland snatched + up his hat, which had providentially fallen inside the room, and retreated + ingloriously to the other end of the parlor. The voice came again from the + window, and struck him as being very sweet and clear:— + </p> + <p> + “Sophy, is that YOU?” + </p> + <p> + Courtland discreetly retired to the hall. To his great relief a voice from + the outside answered, “Whar, Miss Sally?” + </p> + <p> + “What did yo' move the ladder for? Yo' might have killed me.” + </p> + <p> + “Fo' God, Miss Sally, I didn't move no ladder!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't tell me, but go down and get my slipper. And bring up some more + nails.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland waited silently in the hall. In a few moments he heard a heavy + footstep outside the rear window. This was his opportunity. Re-entering + the parlor somewhat ostentatiously, he confronted a tall negro girl who + was passing through the room carrying a tiny slipper in her hand. “Excuse + me,” he said politely, “but I could not find any one to announce me. Is + Miss Dows at home?” + </p> + <p> + The girl instantly whipped the slipper behind her. “Is yo' wanting Miss + Mirandy Dows,” she asked with great dignity, “oah Miss Sally Dows—her + niece? Miss Mirandy's bin gone to Atlanta for a week.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a letter for Miss Miranda, but I shall be very glad if Miss Sally + Dows will receive me,” returned Courtland, handing the letter and his card + to the girl. + </p> + <p> + She received it with a still greater access of dignity and marked + deliberation. “It's clean gone outer my mind, sah, ef Miss Sally is in de + resumption of visitahs at dis houah. In fac', sah,” she continued, with + intensified gravity and an exaggeration of thoughtfulness as the sounds of + Miss Sally's hammering came shamelessly from the wall, “I doahn know + exac'ly ef she's engaged playin' de harp, practicin' de languages, or + paintin' in oil and watah colors, o' givin' audiences to offishals from de + Court House. It might be de houah for de one or de odder. But I'll + communicate wid her, sah, in de budwoh on de uppah flo'.” She backed + dexterously, so as to keep the slipper behind her, but with no diminution + of dignity, out of a side door. In another moment the hammering ceased, + followed by the sound of rapid whispering without; a few tiny twigs and + leaves slowly rustled to the ground, and then there was complete silence. + He ventured to walk to the fateful window again. + </p> + <p> + Presently he heard a faint rustle at the other end of the room, and he + turned. A sudden tremulousness swept along his pulses, and then they + seemed to pause; he drew a deep breath that was almost a sigh, and + remained motionless. + </p> + <p> + He had no preconceived idea of falling in love with Miss Sally at first + sight, nor had he dreamed such a thing possible. Even the girlish face + that he had seen in the locket, although it had stirred him with a + singular emotion, had not suggested that. And the ideal he had evolved + from it was never a potent presence. But the exquisitely pretty face and + figure before him, although it might have been painted from his own fancy + of her, was still something more and something unexpected. All that had + gone before had never prepared him for the beautiful girl who now stood + there. It was a poor explanation to say that Miss Sally was four or five + years older than her picture, and that later experiences, enlarged + capacity, a different life, and new ambition had impressed her youthful + face with a refined mobility; it was a weird fancy to imagine that the + blood of those who had died for her had in some vague, mysterious way + imparted an actual fascination to her, and he dismissed it. But even the + most familiar spectator, like Sophy, could see that Miss Sally had the + softest pink complexion, the silkiest hair, that looked as the floss of + the Indian corn might look if curled, or golden spider threads if + materialized, and eyes that were in bright gray harmony with both; that + the frock of India muslin, albeit home-made, fitted her figure perfectly, + from the azure bows on her shoulders to the ribbon around her waist; and + that the hem of its billowy skirt showed a foot which had the reputation + of being the smallest foot south of Mason and Dixon's Line! But it was + something more intangible than this which kept Courtland breathless and + silent. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not Miss Miranda Dows,” said the vision with a frankness that was + half childlike and half practical, as she extended a little hand, “but I + can talk 'fahm' with yo' about as well as aunty, and I reckon from what + Major Reed says heah,” holding up the letter between her fingers, “as long + as yo' get the persimmons yo' don't mind what kind o' pole yo' knock 'em + down with.” + </p> + <p> + The voice that carried this speech was so fresh, clear, and sweet that I + am afraid Courtland thought little of its bluntness or its conventional + transgressions. But it brought him his own tongue quite unemotionally and + quietly. “I don't know what was in that note, Miss Dows, but I can hardly + believe that Major Reed ever put my present felicity quite in that way.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Sally laughed. Then with a charming exaggeration she waved her little + hand towards the sofa. + </p> + <p> + “There! Yo' naturally wanted a little room for that, co'nnle, but now that + yo' 've got it off,—and mighty pooty it was, too,—yo' can sit + down.” And with that she sank down at one end of the sofa, prettily drew + aside a white billow of skirt so as to leave ample room for Courtland at + the other, and clasping her fingers over her knees, looked demurely + expectant. + </p> + <p> + “But let me hope that I am not disturbing you unseasonably,” said + Courtland, catching sight of the fateful little slipper beneath her skirt, + and remembering the window. “I was so preoccupied in thinking of your aunt + as the business manager of these estates that I quite forget that she + might have a lady's hours for receiving.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven't got any company hours,” said Miss Sally, “and we haven't just + now any servants for company manners, for we're short-handed in the fields + and barns. When yo' came I was nailing up the laths for the vines outside, + because we couldn't spare carpenters from the factory. But,” she added, + with a faint accession of mischief in her voice, “yo' came to talk about + the fahm?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Courtland, rising, “but not to interrupt the work on it. Will + you let me help you nail up the laths on the wall? I have some experience + that way, and we can talk as we work. Do oblige me!” + </p> + <p> + The young girl looked at him brightly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, there's nothing mean about THAT. Yo' mean it for sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. I shall feel so much less as if I was enjoying your company + under false pretenses.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' just wait here, then.” + </p> + <p> + She jumped from the sofa, ran out of the room, and returned presently, + tying the string of a long striped cotton blouse—evidently an extra + one of Sophy's—behind her back as she returned. It was gathered + under her oval chin by a tape also tied behind her, while her fair hair + was tucked under the usual red bandana handkerchief of the negro + housemaid. It is scarcely necessary to add that the effect was bewitching. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Miss Sally, eying her guest's smartly fitting frock-coat, “yo' + 'll spoil yo'r pooty clothes, sure! Take off yo'r coat—don't mind me—and + work in yo'r shirtsleeves.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland obediently flung aside his coat and followed his active hostess + through the French window to the platform outside. Above them a wooden + ledge or cornice, projecting several inches, ran the whole length of the + building. It was on this that Miss Sally had evidently found a foothold + while she was nailing up a trellis-work of laths between it and the + windows of the second floor. Courtland found the ladder, mounted to the + ledge, followed by the young girl, who smilingly waived his proffered hand + to help her up, and the two gravely set to work. But in the intervals of + hammering and tying up the vines Miss Sally's tongue was not idle. Her + talk was as fresh, as quaint, as original as herself, and yet so practical + and to the purpose of Courtland's visit as to excuse his delight in it and + her own fascinating propinquity. Whether she stopped to take a nail from + between her pretty lips when she spoke to him, or whether holding on + perilously with one hand to the trellis while she gesticulated with the + hammer, pointing out the divisions of the plantation from her coign of + vantage, he thought she was as clear and convincing to his intellect as + she was distracting to his senses. + </p> + <p> + She told him how the war had broken up their old home in Pineville, + sending her father to serve in the Confederate councils of Richmond, and + leaving her aunt and herself to manage the property alone; how the estate + had been devastated, the house destroyed, and how they had barely time to + remove a few valuables; how, although SHE had always been opposed to + secession and the war, she had not gone North, preferring to stay with her + people, and take with them the punishment of the folly she had foreseen. + How after the war and her father's death she and her aunt had determined + to “reconstruct THEMSELVES” after their own fashion on this bit of + property, which had survived their fortunes because it had always been + considered valueless and unprofitable for negro labor. How at first they + had undergone serious difficulty, through the incompetence and ignorance + of the freed laborer, and the equal apathy and prejudice of their + neighbors. How they had gradually succeeded with the adoption of new + methods and ideas that she herself had conceived, which she now briefly + and clearly stated. Courtland listened with a new, breathless, and almost + superstitious interest: they were HIS OWN THEORIES—perfected and + demonstrated! + </p> + <p> + “But you must have had capital for this?” + </p> + <p> + Ah, yes! that was where they were fortunate. There were some French + cousins with whom she had once stayed in Paris, who advanced enough to + stock the estate. There were some English friends of her father's, old + blockade runners, who had taken shares, provided them with more capital, + and imported some skilled laborers and a kind of steward or agent to + represent them. But they were getting on, and perhaps it was better for + their reputation with their neighbors that they had not been BEHOLDEN to + the “No'th.” Seeing a cloud pass over Courtland's face, the young lady + added with an affected sigh, and the first touch of feminine coquetry + which had invaded their wholesome camaraderie:— + </p> + <p> + “Yo' ought to have found us out BEFORE, co'nnle.” + </p> + <p> + For an impulsive moment Courtland felt like telling her then and there the + story of his romantic quest; but the reflection that they were standing on + a narrow ledge with no room for the emotions, and that Miss Sally had just + put a nail in her mouth and a start might be dangerous, checked him. To + this may be added a new jealousy of her previous experiences, which he had + not felt before. Nevertheless, he managed to say with some effusion:— + </p> + <p> + “But I hope we are not too late NOW. I think my principals are quite ready + and able to buy up any English or French investor now or to come.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' might try yo' hand on that one,” said Miss Sally, pointing to a young + fellow who had just emerged from the office and was crossing the + courtyard. “He's the English agent.” + </p> + <p> + He was square-shouldered and round-headed, fresh and clean looking in his + white flannels, but with an air of being utterly distinct and alien to + everything around him, and mentally and morally irreconcilable to it. As + he passed the house he glanced shyly at it; his eye brightened and his + manner became self-conscious as he caught sight of the young girl, but + changed again when he saw her companion. Courtland likewise was conscious + of a certain uneasiness; it was one thing to be helping Miss Sally ALONE, + but certainly another thing to be doing so under the eye of a stranger; + and I am afraid that he met the stony observation of the Englishman with + an equally cold stare. Miss Sally alone retained her languid ease and + self-possession. She called out, “Wait a moment, Mr. Champney,” slipped + lightly down the ladder, and leaning against it with one foot on its + lowest rung awaited his approach. + </p> + <p> + “I reckoned yo' might be passing by,” she said, as he came forward. + “Co'nnle Courtland,” with an explanatory wave of the hammer towards her + companion, who remained erect and slightly stiffened on the cornice, “is + no relation to those figures along the frieze of the Redlands Court House, + but a No'th'n officer, a friend of Major Reed's, who's come down here to + look after So'th'n property for some No'th'n capitalists. Mr. Champney,” + she continued, turning and lifting her eyes to Courtland as she indicated + Champney with her hammer, “when he isn't talking English, seeing English, + thinking English, dressing English, and wondering why God didn't make + everything English, is trying to do the same for HIS folks. Mr. Champney, + Co'nnle Courtland. Co'nnle Courtland, Mr. Champney!” The two men bowed + formally. “And now, Co'nnle, if yo'll come down, Mr. Champney will show + yo' round the fahm. When yo' 've got through yo'll find me here at work.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland would have preferred, and half looked for her company and + commentary on this round of inspection, but he concealed his + disappointment and descended. It did not exactly please him that Champney + seemed relieved, and appeared to accept him as a bona fide stranger who + could not possibly interfere with any confidential relations that he might + have with Miss Sally. Nevertheless, he met the Englishman's offer to + accompany him with polite gratitude, and they left the house together. + </p> + <p> + In less than an hour they returned. It had not even taken that time for + Courtland to discover that the real improvements and the new methods had + originated with Miss Sally; that she was virtually the controlling + influence there, and that she was probably retarded rather than assisted + by the old-fashioned and traditional conservatism of the company of which + Champney was steward. It was equally plain, however, that the young fellow + was dimly conscious of this, and was frankly communicative about it. + </p> + <p> + “You see, over there they work things in a different way, and, by Jove! + they can't understand that there is any other, don't you know? They're + always wigging me as if I could help it, although I've tried to explain + the nigger business, and all that, don't you know? They want Miss Dows to + refer her plans to me, and expect me to report on them, and then they'll + submit them to the Board and wait for its decision. Fancy Miss Dows doing + that! But, by Jove! they can't conceive of her AT ALL over there, don't + you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Which Miss Dows do you mean?” asked Courtland dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Sally, of course,” said the young fellow briskly. “SHE manages + everything—her aunt included. She can make those niggers work when + no one else can, a word or smile from her is enough. She can make terms + with dealers and contractors—her own terms, too—when they + won't look at MY figures. By Jove! she even gets points out of those + traveling agents and inventors, don't you know, who come along the road + with patents and samples. She got one of those lightning-rod and + wire-fence men to show her how to put up an arbor for her trailing roses. + Why, when I first saw YOU up on the cornice, I thought you were some other + chap that she'd asked—don't you know—that is, at first, of + course!—you know what I mean—ha, by Jove!—before we were + introduced, don't you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I OFFERED to help Miss Dows,” said Courtland with a quickness + that he at once regretted. + </p> + <p> + “So did HE, don't you know? Miss Sally does not ASK anybody. Don't you + see? a fellow don't like to stand by and see a young lady like her doing + such work.” Vaguely aware of some infelicity in his speech, he awkwardly + turned the subject: “I don't think I shall stay here long, myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You expect to return to England?” asked Courtland. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! But I shall go out of the company's service and try my own hand. + There's a good bit of land about three miles from here that's in the + market, and I think I could make something out of it. A fellow ought to + settle down and be his own master,” he answered tentatively, “eh?” + </p> + <p> + “But how will Miss Dows be able to spare you?” asked Courtland, uneasily + conscious that he was assuming an indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not much use to her, don't you know—at least not HERE. But + I might, if I had my own land and if we were neighbors. I told you SHE + runs the place, no matter who's here, or whose money is invested.” + </p> + <p> + “I presume you are speaking now of young Miss Dows?” said Courtland dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Sally—of course—always,” said Champney simply. “She runs + the shop.” + </p> + <p> + “Were there not some French investors—relations of Miss Dows? Does + anybody represent THEM?” asked Courtland pointedly. + </p> + <p> + Yet he was not quite prepared for the naive change in his companion's + face. “No. There was a sort of French cousin who used to be a good deal to + the fore, don't you know? But I rather fancy he didn't come here to look + after the PROPERTY,” returned Champney with a quick laugh. “I think the + aunt must have written to his friends, for they 'called him off,' and I + don't think Miss Sally broke her heart about him. She's not that sort of + girl—eh? She could have her pick of the State if she went in for + that sort of thing—eh?” + </p> + <p> + Although this was exactly what Courtland was thinking, it pleased him to + answer in a distrait sort of fashion, “Certainly, I should think so,” and + to relapse into an apparently business abstraction. + </p> + <p> + “I think I won't go in,” continued Champney as they neared the house + again. “I suppose you'll have something more to say to Miss Dows. If + there's anything else you want of ME, come to the office. But SHE'LL know. + And—er—er—if you're—er—staying long in this + part of the country, ride over and look me up, don't you know? and have a + smoke and a julep; I have a boy who knows how to mix them, and I've some + old brandy sent me from the other side. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + More awkward in his kindliness than in his simple business confidences, + but apparently equally honest in both, he shook Courtland's hand and + walked away. Courtland turned towards the house. He had seen the farm and + its improvements; he had found some of his own ideas practically + discounted; clearly there was nothing left for him to do but to thank his + hostess and take his leave. But he felt far more uneasy than when he had + arrived; and there was a singular sense of incompleteness in his visit + that he could not entirely account for. His conversation with Champney had + complicated—he knew not why—his previous theories of Miss + Dows, and although he was half conscious that this had nothing to do with + the business that brought him there, he tried to think that it had. If + Miss Sally was really—a—a—distracting element to + contiguous man, it was certainly something to be considered in a matter of + business of which she would take a managerial part. It was true that + Champney had said she was “not that sort of girl,” but this was the + testimony of one who was clearly under her influence. He entered the house + through the open French window. The parlor was deserted. He walked through + the front hall and porch; no one was there. He lingered a few moments, a + slight chagrin beginning to mingle with his uneasiness. She might have + been on the lookout for him. She or Sophy must have seen him returning. He + would ring for Sophy, and leave his thanks and regrets for her mistress. + He looked for a bell, touched it, but on being confronted with Sophy, + changed his mind and asked to SEE Miss Dows. In the interval between her + departure and the appearance of Miss Sally he resolved to do the very + thing which he had dismissed from his thoughts but an hour before as + ill-timed and doubtful. He had the photograph and letter in his pocket; he + would make them his excuse for personally taking leave of her. + </p> + <p> + She entered with her fair eyebrows lifted in a pretty surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I declare to goodness, I thought yo' 'd ridden over to the red barn and + gone home from there. I got through my work on the vines earlier than I + thought. One of Judge Garret's nephews dropped in in time to help me with + the last row. Yo' needn't have troubled yo'self to send up for me for mere + company manners, but Sophy says yo' looked sort of 'anxious and + particular' when yo' asked for me—so I suppose yo' want to see me + for something.” + </p> + <p> + Mentally objurgating Sophy, and with an unpleasant impression in his mind + of the unknown neighbor who had been helping Miss Sally in his place, he + nevertheless tried to collect himself gallantly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what my expression conveyed to Sophy,” he said with a smile, + “but I trust that what I have to tell you may be interesting enough to + make you forget my second intrusion.” He paused, and still smiling + continued: “For more than three years, Miss Dows, you have more or less + occupied my thoughts; and although we have actually met to-day only for + the first time, I have during that time carried your image with me + constantly. Even this meeting, which was only the result of an accident, I + had been seeking for three years. I find you here under your own peaceful + vine and fig-tree, and yet three years ago you came to me out of the + thunder-cloud of battle.” + </p> + <p> + “My good gracious!” said Miss Sally. + </p> + <p> + She had been clasping her knee with her linked fingers, but separated them + and leaned backward on the sofa with affected consternation, but an + expression of growing amusement in her bright eyes. Courtland saw the + mistake of his tone, but it was too late to change it now. He handed her + the locket and the letter, and briefly, and perhaps a little more + seriously, recounted the incident that had put him in possession of them. + But he entirely suppressed the more dramatic and ghastly details, and his + own superstition and strange prepossession towards her. + </p> + <p> + Miss Sally took the articles without a tremor, or the least deepening or + paling of the delicate, faint suffusion of her cheek. When she had glanced + over the letter, which appeared to be brief, she said, with smiling, + half-pitying tranquillity:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes!—it WAS that poor Chet Brooks, sure! I heard that he was killed + at Snake River. It was just like him to rush in and get killed the first + pop! And all for nothing, too,—pure foolishness!” + </p> + <p> + Shocked, yet relieved, but uneasy under both sensations, Courtland went on + blindly: + </p> + <p> + “But he was not the only one, Miss Dows. There was another man picked up + who also had your picture.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—Joyce Masterton. They sent it to me. But you didn't kill HIM, + too?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that I personally killed either,” he said a little coldly. + He paused, and continued with a gravity which he could not help feeling + very inconsistent and even ludicrous: “They were brave men, Miss Dows.” + </p> + <p> + “To have worn my picture?” said Miss Sally brightly. + </p> + <p> + “To have THOUGHT they had so much to live for, and yet to have willingly + laid down their lives for what they believed was right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' didn't go huntin' me for three years to tell ME, a So'th'n girl, that + So'th'n men know how to fight, did yo', co'nnle?” returned the young lady, + with the slightest lifting of her head and drooping of her blue-veined + lids in a divine hauteur. “They were always ready enough for that, even + among themselves. It was much easier for these pooah boys to fight a thing + out than think it out, or work it out. Yo' folks in the No'th learned to + do all three; that's where you got the grip on us. Yo' look surprised, + co'nnle.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't expect you would look at it—quite in—in—that + way,” said Courtland awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I disappointed yo' after yo' 'd taken such a heap o' trouble,” + returned the young lady with a puzzling assumption of humility as she rose + and smoothed out her skirts, “but I couldn't know exactly what yo' might + be expecting after three years; if I HAD, I might have put on mo'ning.” + She stopped and adjusted a straying tendril of her hair with the sharp + corner of the dead man's letter. “But I thank yo', all the same, co'nnle. + It was real good in yo' to think of toting these things over here.” And + she held out her hand frankly. + </p> + <p> + Courtland took it with the sickening consciousness that for the last five + minutes he had been an unconscionable ass. He could not prolong the + interview after she had so significantly risen. If he had only taken his + leave and kept the letter and locket for a later visit, perhaps when they + were older friends! It was too late now. He bent over her hand for a + moment, again thanked her for her courtesy, and withdrew. A moment later + she heard the receding beat of his horse's hoofs on the road. + </p> + <p> + She opened the drawer of a brass-handled cabinet, and after a moment's + critical survey of her picture in the dead man's locket, tossed it and the + letter into the recesses of the drawer. Then she stopped, removed her + little slipper from her foot, looked at THAT, too, thoughtfully, and + called “Sophy!” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Sally?” said the girl, reappearing at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you did not move that ladder?” + </p> + <p> + “I 'clare to goodness, Miss Sally, I never teched it!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Sally directed a critical glance at her handmaiden's red-coifed head. + “No,” she said to herself softly, “it felt nicer than wool, anyway!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + In spite of the awkward termination of his visit,—or perhaps BECAUSE + of it,—Courtland called again at the plantation within the week. But + this time he was accompanied by Drummond, and was received by Miss Miranda + Dows, a tall, aquiline-nosed spinster of fifty, whose old-time politeness + had become slightly affected, and whose old beliefs had given way to a + half-cynical acceptance of new facts. Mr. Drummond, delighted with the + farm and its management, was no less fascinated by Miss Sally, while + Courtland was now discreet enough to divide his attentions between her and + her aunt, with the result that he was far from participating in Champney's + conviction of Miss Miranda's unimportance. To the freedmen she still + represented the old implacable task-mistress, and it was evident that they + superstitiously believed that she still retained a vague power of + overriding the Fourteenth Amendment at her pleasure, and was only to be + restrained by the mediation of the good-humored and sensible Miss Sally. + Courtland was quick to see the value of this influence in the transition + state of the freedmen, and pointed it out to his principal. Drummond's + previous doubts and skepticism, already weakened by Miss Sally's + fascinations, vanished entirely at this prospect of beneficially utilizing + these lingering evils of slavery. He was convinced, he was even + enthusiastic. The foreign investors were men to be bought out; the estate + improved and enlarged by the company, and the fair owners retained in the + management and control. Like most prejudiced men, Drummond's conversion + was sudden and extreme, and, being a practical man, was at once acted + upon. At a second and third interview the preliminaries were arranged, and + in three weeks from Courtland's first visit, the Dows' plantation and part + of Major Reed's were merged in the “Drummond Syndicate,” and placed beyond + financial uncertainty. Courtland remained to represent the company as + superintendent at Redlands, and with the transfer of the English + investments Champney retired, as he had suggested, to a smaller venture of + his own, on a plantation a few miles distant which the company had been + unable to secure. + </p> + <p> + During this interval Courtland had frequent interviews with Miss Sally, + and easy and unrestrained access to her presence. He had never again erred + on the side of romance or emotion; he had never again referred to the + infelix letter and photograph; and, without being obliged to confine + himself strictly to business affairs, he had maintained an even, quiet, + neighborly intercourse with her. Much of this was the result of his own + self-control and soldierly training, and gave little indication of the + deeper feeling that he was conscious lay beneath it. At times he caught + the young girl's eyes fixed upon him with a mischievous curiosity. A + strange thrill went through him; there are few situations so subtle and + dangerous as the accidental confidences and understandings of two young + people of opposite sex, even though the question of any sentimental + inclination be still in abeyance. Courtland knew that Miss Sally + remembered the too serious attitude he had taken towards her past. She + might laugh at it, and even resent it, but she KNEW it, remembered it, + knew that HE did, and this precious knowledge was confined to themselves. + It was in their minds when there was a pause in their more practical and + conventional conversation, and was even revealed in the excessive care + which Miss Sally later took to avert at the right moment her mischievously + smiling eyes. Once she went farther. Courtland had just finished + explaining to her a plan for substituting small farm buildings for the + usual half-cultivated garden-patches dear to the negro field-hand, and had + laid down the drawings on the table in the office, when the young lady, + leaning against it with her hands behind her, fixed her bright gray eyes + on his serious face. + </p> + <p> + “I vow and protest, co'nnle,” she said, dropping into one of the quaint + survivals of an old-time phraseology peculiar to her people, “I never + allowed yo' could just give yo'self up to business, soul and body, as yo' + do, when I first met yo' that day.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what did you think me?” he asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + Miss Sally, who had a Southern aptitude for gesture, took one little hand + from behind her, twirled it above her head with a pretty air of disposing + of some airy nothing in a presumably masculine fashion, and said, “Oh, + THAT.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I did not impress you then as a very practical man,” he said, + with a faint color. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you roosted rather high, co'nnle, to pick up many worms in the + mo'ning. But,” she added with a dazzling smile, “I reckon from what yo' + said about the photograph, yo' thought I wasn't exactly what yo' believed + I ought to be, either.” + </p> + <p> + He would have liked to tell her then and there that he would have been + content if those bright, beautiful eyes had never kindled with anything + but love or womanly aspiration; that that soft, lazy, caressing voice had + never been lifted beyond the fireside or domestic circle; that the sunny, + tendriled hair and pink ears had never inclined to anything but whispered + admiration; and that the graceful, lithe, erect figure, so independent and + self-contained, had been satisfied to lean only upon his arm for support. + He was conscious that this had been in his mind when he first saw her; he + was equally conscious that she was more bewilderingly fascinating to him + in her present inaccessible intelligence and practicality. + </p> + <p> + “I confess,” he said, looking into her eyes with a vague smile, “I did not + expect you would be so forgetful of some one who had evidently cared for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning Mr. Chet Brooks, or Mr. Joyce Masterton, or both. That's like + most yo' men, co'nnle. Yo' reckon because a girl pleases yo' she ought to + be grateful all her life—and yo'rs, too! Yo' think different now! + But yo' needn't act up to it quite so much.” She made a little deprecating + gesture with her disengaged hand as if to ward off any retaliating + gallantry. “I ain't speaking for myself, co'nnle. Yo' and me are good + enough friends. But the girls round here think yo' 're a trifle too much + taken up with rice and niggers. And looking at it even in yo'r light, + co'nnle, it ain't BUSINESS. Yo' want to keep straight with Major Reed, so + it would be just as well to square the major's woman folks. Tavy and + Gussie Reed ain't exactly poisonous, co'nnle, and yo' might see one or the + other home from church next Sunday. The Sunday after that, just to show + yo' ain't particular, and that yo' go in for being a regular beau, yo' + might walk home with ME. Don't be frightened—I've got a better gown + than this. It's a new one, just come home from Louisville, and I'll wear + it for the occasion.” + </p> + <p> + He did not dare to say that the quaint frock she was then wearing—a + plain “checked” household gingham used for children's pinafores, with its + ribbons of the same pattern, gathered in bows at the smart apron pockets—had + become a part of her beauty, for he was already hopelessly conscious that + she was lovely in anything, and he might be impelled to say so. He thanked + her gravely and earnestly, but without gallantry or effusion, and had the + satisfaction of seeing the mischief in her eyes increase in proportion to + his seriousness, and heard her say with affected concern: “Bear up, + co'nnle! Don't let it worry yo' till the time comes,” and took his leave. + </p> + <p> + On the following Sunday he was present at the Redlands Episcopal Church, + and after the service stood with outward composure but some inward chafing + among the gallant youth who, after the local fashion, had ranged + themselves outside the doors of the building. He was somewhat surprised to + find Mr. Champney, evidently as much out of place as himself, but less + self-contained, waiting in the crowd of expectant cavaliers. Although + convinced that the young Englishman had come only to see Miss Sally, he + was glad to share his awkward isolation with another stranger, and greeted + him pleasantly. The Dows' pew, being nearer to the entrance than the + Reeds', gave up its occupants first. Colonel Courtland lifted his hat to + Miss Miranda and her niece at the same moment that Champney moved forward + and ranged himself beside them. Miss Sally, catching Courtland's eye, + showed the whites of her own in a backward glance of mischievous + significance to indicate the following Reeds. When they approached, + Courtland joined them, and finding himself beside Miss Octavia entered + into conversation. Apparently the suppressed passion and sardonic + melancholy of that dark-eyed young lady spurred him to a lighter, gayer + humor even in proportion as Miss Sally's good-natured levity and sunny + practicality always made him serious. They presently fell to the rear with + other couples, and were soon quite alone. + </p> + <p> + A little haughty, but tall and erect in her well-preserved black grenadine + dress, which gave her the appearance of a youthful but implacable widow, + Miss Reed declared she had not seen the co'nnle for “a coon's age,” and + certainly had not expected to have the honor of his company as long as + there were niggers to be elevated or painted to look like white men. She + hoped that he and paw and Sally Dows were happy! They hadn't yet got so + far as to put up a nigger preacher in the place of Mr. Symes, their + rector, but she understood that there was some talk of running Hannibal + Johnson—Miss Dows' coachman—for county judge next year! No! + she had not heard that the co'nnle HIMSELF had thought of running for the + office! He might laugh at her as much as he liked—he seemed to be in + better spirits than when she first saw him—only she would like to + know if it was “No'th'n style” to laugh coming home from church? Of course + if it WAS she would have to adopt it with the Fourteenth Amendment. But, + just now, she noticed the folks were staring at them, and Miss Sally Dows + had turned round to look. Nevertheless, Miss Octavia's sallow cheek + nearest the colonel—the sunny side—had taken a faint + brunette's flush, and the corners of her proud mouth were slightly lifted. + </p> + <p> + “But, candidly, Miss Reed, don't you think that you would prefer to have + old Hannibal, whom you know, as county judge, than a stranger and a + Northern man like ME?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Reed's dark eyes glanced sideways at the handsome face and elegant + figure beside her. Something like a saucy smile struggled to her thin + lips. + </p> + <p> + “There mightn't be much to choose, Co'nnle.” + </p> + <p> + “I admit it. We should both acknowledge our mistress, and be like wax in + her hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' ought to make that pooty speech to Sally Dows, she's generally + mistress around here. But,” she added, suddenly fixing her eyes on him, + “how does it happen that yo' ain't walking with her instead of that + Englishman? Yo' know that it's as plain as day that he took that land over + there just to be near her, when he was no longer agent.” + </p> + <p> + But Courtland was always master of himself and quite at ease regarding + Miss Sally when not in that lady's presence. “You forget,” he said + smilingly, “that I'm still a stranger and knew little of the local gossip; + and if I did know it, I am afraid we didn't bargain to buy up with the + LAND Mr. Champney's personal interest in the LANDLADY.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' 'd have had your hands full, for I reckon she's pooty heavily + mortgaged in that fashion, already,” returned Miss Reed with mere badinage + than spitefulness in the suggestion. “And Mr. Champney was run pooty close + by a French cousin of hers when he was here. Yo' haven't got any French + books to lend me, co'nnle—have yo'? Paw says you read a heap of + French, and I find it mighty hard to keep up MY practice since I left the + Convent at St. Louis, for paw don't knew what sort of books to order, and + I reckon he makes awful mistakes sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + The conversation here turning upon polite literature, it appeared that + Miss Octavia's French reading, through a shy, proud innocence and an + imperfect knowledge of the wicked subtleties of the language, was somewhat + broad and unconventional for a young lady. Courtland promised to send her + some books, and even ventured to suggest some American and English novels + not intensely “No'th'n” nor “metaphysical”—according to the accepted + Southern beliefs. A new respect and pitying interest in this sullen, + solitary girl, cramped by tradition, and bruised rather than enlightened + by sad experiences, came over him. He found himself talking quite + confidentially to the lifted head, arched eyebrows, and aquiline nose + beside him, and even thinking what a handsome high-bred BROTHER she might + have been to some one. When they had reached the house, in compliance with + the familiar custom, he sat down on one of the lower steps of the veranda, + while she, shaking out her skirt, took a seat a step or two above him. + This enabled him, after the languid local fashion, to lean on his elbow + and gaze up into the eyes of the young lady, while she with equal languor + looked down upon him. But in the present instance Miss Reed leaned forward + suddenly, and darting a sharp quick glance into his very consciousness + said:— + </p> + <p> + “And yo' mean to say, co'nnle, there's nothing between yo' and Sally + Dows?” + </p> + <p> + Courtland neither flushed, trembled, grew confused, nor prevaricated. + </p> + <p> + “We are good friends, I think,” he replied quietly, without evasion or + hesitation. + </p> + <p> + Miss Reed looked at him thoughtfully, “I reckon that is so—and no + more. And that's why yo' 've been so lucky in everything,” she said + slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I quite understand,” returned Courtland, smiling. “Is this + a paradox—or a consolation?” + </p> + <p> + “It's the TRUTH,” said Miss Reed gravely. “Those who try to be anything + more to Sally Dows lose their luck.” + </p> + <p> + “That is—are rejected by her. Is she really so relentless?” + continued Courtland gayly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that they lose their luck in everything. Something is sure to + happen. And SHE can't help it either.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this a Sibylline warning, Miss Reed?” + </p> + <p> + “No. It's nigger superstition. It came from Mammy Judy, Sally's old nurse. + It's part of their regular Hoo-doo. She bewitched Miss Sally when she was + a baby, so that everybody is bound to HER as long as they care for her, + and she isn't bound to THEM in any way. All their luck goes to her as soon + as the spell is on them,” she added darkly. + </p> + <p> + “I think I know the rest,” returned Courtland with still greater + solemnity. “You gather the buds of the witch-hazel in April when the moon + is full. You then pluck three hairs from the young lady's right eyebrow + when she isn't looking”— + </p> + <p> + “Yo' can laugh, co'nnle, for yo' 're lucky—because yo' 're free.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not so sure of that,” he said gallantly, “for I ought to be riding at + this moment over to the Infirmary to visit my Sunday sick. If being made + to pleasantly forget one's time and duty is a sign of witchcraft I am + afraid Mammy Judy's enchantments were not confined to only one Southern + young lady.” + </p> + <p> + The sound of quick footsteps on the gravel path caused them both to look + up. A surly looking young fellow, ostentatiously booted and spurred, and + carrying a heavy rawhide riding-whip in his swinging hand, was approaching + them. Deliberately, yet with uneasy self-consciousness, ignoring the + presence of Courtland, he nodded abruptly to Miss Reed, ascended the + steps, brushed past them both without pausing, and entered the house. + </p> + <p> + “Is that yo'r manners, Mr. Tom?” called the young lady after him, a slight + flush rising to her sallow cheek. The young man muttered something from + the hall which Courtland did not catch. “It's Cousin Tom Higbee,” she + explained half disdainfully. “He's had some ugliness with his horse, I + reckon; but paw ought to teach him how to behave. And—I don't think + he likes No'th'n men,” she added gravely. + </p> + <p> + Courtland, who had kept his temper with his full understanding of the + intruder's meaning, smiled as he took Miss Reed's hand in parting. “That's + quite enough explanation, and I don't know why it shouldn't be even an + apology.” + </p> + <p> + Yet the incident left little impression on him as he strolled back to + Redlands. It was not the first time he had tasted the dregs of former + sectional hatred in incivility and discourtesy, but as it seldom came from + his old personal antagonists—the soldiers—and was confined to + the callow youth, previous non-combatants and politicians, he could afford + to overlook it. He did not see Miss Sally during the following week. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + On the next Sunday he was early at church. But he had perhaps accented the + occasion by driving there in a light buggy behind a fast thoroughbred, + possibly selected more to the taste of a smart cavalry officer than an + agricultural superintendent. He was already in a side pew, his eyes + dreamily fixed on the prayer-book ledge before him, when there was a + rustle at the church door, and a thrill of curiosity and admiration passed + over the expectant congregation. It was the entrance of the Dows party, + Miss Sally well to the fore. She was in her new clothes, the latest + fashion in Louisville, the latest but two in Paris and New York. + </p> + <p> + It was over twenty years ago. I shall not imperil the effect of that + lovely vision by recalling to the eye of to-day a fashion of yesterday. + Enough, that it enabled her to set her sweet face and vapory golden hair + in a horseshoe frame of delicate flowers, and to lift her oval chin out of + a bewildering mist of tulle. Nor did a certain light polonaise conceal the + outlines of her charming figure. Even those who were constrained to + whisper to each other that “Miss Sally” must “be now going on + twenty-five,” did so because she still carried the slender graces of + seventeen. The organ swelled as if to welcome her; as she took her seat a + ray of sunlight, that would have been cruel and searching to any other + complexion, drifted across the faint pink of her cheeks, and nestling in + her nebulous hair became itself transfigured. A few stained-glass Virtues + on the windows did not come out of this effulgence as triumphantly, and it + was small wonder that the devotional eyes of the worshipers wandered from + them to the face of Sally Dows. + </p> + <p> + When the service was over, as the congregation filed slowly into the + aisle, Courtland slipped mutely behind her. As she reached the porch he + said in an undertone: + </p> + <p> + “I brought my horse and buggy. I thought you might possibly allow me to + drive”—But he was stopped by a distressful knitting of her golden + brows. “No,” she said quickly, but firmly, “you must not—it won't + do.” As Courtland hesitated in momentary perplexity, she smiled sweetly: + “We'll walk round by the cemetery, if you like; it will take about as long + as a drive.” Courtland vanished, gave hurried instructions and a dollar to + a lounging negro, and rejoined Miss Sally as the delighted and proud + freedman drove out of the gate. Miss Sally heaved a slight sigh as the + gallant equipage passed. “It was a mighty pooty turnout, co'nnle, and I'd + have just admired to go, but it would have been rather hard on the other + folks. There's the Reeds and Maxwells and Robertsons that are too pooah to + keep blood horses, and too proud to ride behind anything else. It wouldn't + be the right thing for us to go whirling by, scattering our dust over + them.” There was something so subtly pleasant in this implied partnership + of responsibility, that Courtland forgot the abrupt refusal and thought + only of the tact that prompted it. Nevertheless, here a spell seemed to + fall upon his usually ready speech. Now that they were together for the + first time in a distinctly social fashion, he found himself vacantly, + meaninglessly silent, content to walk beside this charming, summery + presence, brushed by its delicate draperies, and inhaling its freshness. + Presently it spoke. + </p> + <p> + “It would take more than a thousand feet of lumber to patch up the + cowsheds beyond the Moseley pasture, and an entirely new building with an + improved dairy would require only about two thousand more. All the old + material would come in good for fencing, and could be used with the new + post and rails. Don't yo' think it would be better to have an out-and-out + new building?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly,” returned Courtland a little confusedly. He had not + calculated upon this practical conversation, and was the more disconcerted + as they were passing some of the other couples, who had purposely lingered + to overhear them. + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued the young girl brightly, “the freight question is getting + to be a pretty serious one. Aunt Miranda holds some shares in the + Briggsville branch line, and thinks something could be done with the + directors for a new tariff of charges if she put a pressure on them; Tyler + says that there was some talk of their reducing it one sixteenth per cent. + before we move this year's crop.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland glanced quickly at his companion's face. It was grave, but there + was the faintest wrinkling of the corner of the eyelid nearest him. “Had + we not better leave these serious questions until to-morrow?” he said, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + Miss Sally opened her eyes demurely. “Why, yo' seemed SO quiet, I reckoned + yo' must be full of business this morning; but if yo' prefer company talk, + we'll change the subject. They say that yo' and Miss Reed didn't have much + trouble to find one last Sunday. She don't usually talk much, but she + keeps up a power of thinking. I should reckon,” she added, suddenly eying + him critically, “that yo' and she might have a heap o' things to say to + each other. She's a good deal in yo' fashion, co'nnle, she don't forget, + but”—more slowly—“I don't know that THAT'S altogether the best + thing for YO'!” + </p> + <p> + Courtland lifted his eyes with affected consternation. “If this is in the + light of another mysterious warning, Miss Dows, I warn you that my + intellect is already tottering with them. Last Sunday Miss Reed thrilled + me for an hour with superstition and Cassandra-like prophecy. Don't things + ever happen accidentally here, and without warning?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” returned the young lady with her usual practical directness, + “that Tave Reed remembers a good many horrid things about the wah that she + ought to forget, but don't. But,” she continued, looking at him curiously, + “she allows she was mighty cut up by her cousin's manner to yo'.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid that Miss Reed was more annoyed than I was,” said Courtland. + “I should be very sorry if she attached any importance to it,” he added + earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “And YO' don't?” continued Miss Sally. + </p> + <p> + “No. Why should I?” She noticed, however, that he had slightly drawn + himself up a little more erect, and she smiled as he continued, “I dare + say I should feel as he does if I were in his place.” + </p> + <p> + “But YO' wouldn't do anything underhanded,” she said quietly. As he + glanced at her quickly she added dryly: “Don't trust too much to people + always acting in yo' fashion, co'nnle. And don't think too much nor too + little of what yo' hear here. Yo' 're just the kind of man to make a good + many silly enemies, and as many foolish friends. And I don't know which + will give yo' the most trouble. Only don't yo' underrate EITHER, or hold + yo' head so high, yo' don't see what's crawlin' around yo'. That's why, in + a copperhead swamp, a horse is bitten oftener than a hog.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, yet with knitted brows and such a pretty affectation of + concern for her companion that he suddenly took heart. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had ONE friend I could call my own,” he said boldly, looking + straight into her eyes. “I'd care little for other friends, and fear no + enemies.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' 're right, co'nnle,” she said, ostentatiously slanting her parasol in + a marvelous simulation of hiding a purely imaginative blush on a cheek + that was perfectly infantine in its unchanged pink; “company talk is much + pootier than what we've been saying. And—meaning me—for I + reckon yo' wouldn't say that of any other girl but the one yo' 're walking + with—what's the matter with me?” + </p> + <p> + He could not help smiling, though he hesitated. “Nothing! but others have + been disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “And that bothers YO'?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean I have as yet had no right to put your feelings to any test, + while”— + </p> + <p> + “Poor Chet had, yo' were going to say! Well, here we are at the cemetery! + I reckoned yo' were bound to get back to the dead again before we'd gone + far, and that's why I thought we might take the cemetery on our way. It + may put me in a more proper frame of mind to please yo'.” + </p> + <p> + As he raised his eyes he could not repress a slight start. He had not + noticed before that they had passed through a small gateway on diverging + from the road, and was quite unprepared to find himself on the edge of a + gentle slope leading to a beautiful valley, and before him a long vista of + tombs, white head-stones and low crosses, edged by drooping cypress and + trailing feathery vines. Some vines had fallen and been caught in long + loops from bough to bough, like funeral garlands, and here and there the + tops of isolated palmettos lifted a cluster of hearse-like plumes. Yet in + spite of this dominance of sombre but graceful shadow, the drooping + delicacy of dark-tasseled foliage and leafy fringes, and the waving + mourning veils of gray, translucent moss, a glorious vivifying Southern + sun smiled and glittered everywhere as through tears. The balm of bay, + southernwood, pine, and syringa breathed through the long alleys; the + stimulating scent of roses moved with every zephyr, and the closer odors + of jessamine, honeysuckle, and orange flowers hung heavily in the hollows. + It seemed to Courtland like the mourning of beautiful and youthful + widowhood, seductive even in its dissembling trappings, provocative in the + contrast of its own still strong virility. Everywhere the grass grew thick + and luxuriant; the quick earth was teeming with the germination of the + dead below. + </p> + <p> + They moved slowly along side by side, speaking only of the beauty of the + spot and the glory of that summer day, which seemed to have completed its + perfection here. Perhaps from the heat, the overpowering perfume, or some + unsuspected sentiment, the young lady became presently as silent and + preoccupied as her companion. She began to linger and loiter behind, + hovering like a butterfly over some flowering shrub or clustered sheaf of + lilies, until, encountered suddenly in her floating draperies, she might + have been taken for a somewhat early and far too becoming ghost. It seemed + to him, also, that her bright eyes were slightly shadowed by a gentle + thoughtfulness. He moved close to her side with an irresistible impulse of + tenderness, but she turned suddenly, and saying, “Come!” moved at a + quicker pace down a narrow side path. Courtland followed. He had not gone + far before he noticed that the graves seemed to fall into regular lines, + the emblems became cheaper and more common; wooden head and foot stones of + one monotonous pattern took the place of carved freestone or marble, and + he knew that they had reached that part of the cemetery reserved for those + who had fallen in the war. The long lines drawn with military precision + stretched through the little valley, and again up the opposite hill in an + odd semblance of hollow squares, ranks, and columns. A vague recollection + of the fateful slope of Snake River came over him. It was intensified as + Miss Sally, who was still preceding him, suddenly stopped before an + isolated mound bearing a broken marble shaft and a pedestal with the + inscription, “Chester Brooks.” A few withered garlands and immortelles + were lying at its base, but encircling the broken shaft was a perfectly + fresh, unfaded wreath. + </p> + <p> + “You never told me he was buried here!” said Courtland quickly, half + shocked at the unexpected revelation. “Was he from this State?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but his regiment was,” said Miss Sally, eying the wreath critically. + </p> + <p> + “And this wreath, is it from you?” continued Courtland gently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I thought yo' 'd like to see something fresh and pooty, instead of + those stale ones.” + </p> + <p> + “And were they also from you?” he asked even more gently. + </p> + <p> + “Dear no! They were left over from last anniversary day by some of the + veterans. That's the only one I put there—that is—I got Mr. + Champney to leave it here on his way to his house. He lives just yonder, + yo' know.” + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to resist this invincible naivete. Courtland bit his lip + as the vision arose before him of this still more naif English admirer + bringing hither, at Miss Sally's bidding, the tribute which she wished to + place on the grave of an old lover to please a THIRD man. Meantime, she + had put her two little hands behind her back in the simulated attitude of + “a good girl,” and was saying half smilingly, and he even thought half + wistfully:— + </p> + <p> + “Are yo' satisfied?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let's go away. It's mighty hot here.” + </p> + <p> + They turned away, and descending the slope again re-entered the thicker + shade of the main avenue. Here they seemed to have left the sterner aspect + of Death. They walked slowly; the air was heavy with the hot incense of + flowers; the road sinking a little left a grassy bank on one side. Here + Miss Sally halted and listlessly seated herself, motioning Courtland to do + the same. He obeyed eagerly. The incident of the wreath had troubled him, + albeit with contending sensations. She had given it to please HIM; why + should HE question the manner, or torment himself with any retrospective + thought? He would have given worlds to have been able to accept it lightly + or gallantly,—with any other girl he could; but he knew he was + trembling on the verge of a passionate declaration; the magnitude of the + stake was too great to be imperiled by a levity of which she was more a + mistress than himself, and he knew that his sentiment had failed to + impress her. His pride kept him from appealing to her strangely practical + nature, although he had recognized and accepted it, and had even begun to + believe it an essential part of the strong fascination she had over him. + But being neither a coward nor a weak, hesitating idealist, when he + deliberately took his seat beside her he as deliberately made up his mind + to accept his fate, whatever it might be, then and there. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps there was something of this in his face. “I thought yo' were + looking a little white, co'nnle,” she said quietly, “and I reckoned we + might sit down a spell, and then take it slowly home. Yo' ain't accustomed + to the So'th'n sun, and the air in the hollow WAS swampy.” As he made a + slight gesture of denial, she went on with a pretty sisterly superiority: + “That's the way of yo' No'th'n men. Yo' think yo' can do everything just + as if yo' were reared to it, and yo' never make allowance for different + climates, different blood, and different customs. That's where yo' slip + up.” + </p> + <p> + But he was already leaning towards her with his dark earnest eyes fixed + upon her in a way she could no longer mistake. “At the risk of slipping up + again, Miss Dows,” he said gently, dropping into her dialect with utterly + unconscious flattery, “I am going to ask you to teach me everything YOU + wish, to be all that YOU demand—which would be far better. You have + said we were good friends; I want you to let me hope to be more. I want + you to overlook my deficiencies and the differences of my race and let me + meet you on the only level where I can claim to be the equal of your own + people—that of loving you. Give me only the same chance you gave the + other poor fellow who sleeps yonder—the same chance you gave the + luckier man who carried the wreath for you to put upon his grave.” + </p> + <p> + She had listened with delicately knitted brows, the faintest touch of + color, and a half-laughing, half-superior disapprobation. When he had + finished, she uttered a plaintive little sigh. “Yo' oughtn't to have said + that, co'nnle, but yo' and me are too good friends to let even THAT stand + between us. And to prove it to yo' I'm going to forget it right away—and + so are yo'.” + </p> + <p> + “But I cannot,” he said quickly; “if I could I should be unworthy of even + your friendship. If you must reject it, do not make me feel the shame of + thinking you believe me capable of wanton trifling. I know that this + avowal is abrupt to you, but it is not to me. You have known me only for + three months, but these three months have been to me the realization of + three years' dreaming!” As she remained looking at him with bright, + curious eyes, but still shaking her fair head distressedly, he moved + nearer and caught her hand in the little pale lilac thread glove that was, + nevertheless, too wide for her small fingers, and said appealingly: “But + why should YOU forget it? Why must it be a forbidden topic? What is the + barrier? Are you no longer free? Speak, Miss Dows—give me some hope. + Miss Dows!—Sally!” + </p> + <p> + She had drawn herself away, distressed, protesting, her fair head turned + aside, until with a slight twist and narrowing of her hand she succeeded + in slipping it from the glove which she left a prisoner in his eager + clasp. “There! Yo' can keep the glove, co'nnle,” she said, breathing + quickly. “Sit down! This is not the place nor the weather for husking + frolics! Well!—yo' want to know WHY yo' mustn't speak to me in that + way. Be still, and I'll tell yo'.” + </p> + <p> + She smoothed down the folds of her frock, sitting sideways on the bank, + one little foot touching the road. “Yo' mustn't speak that way to me,” she + went on slowly, “because it's as much as yo' company's wo'th, as much as + OUR property's wo'th, as much maybe as yo' life's wo'th! Don't lift yo' + comb, co'nnle; if you don't care for THAT, others may. Sit still, I tell + yo'! Well, yo' come here from the No'th to run this property for money—that's + square and fair business; THAT any fool here can understand—it's + No'th'n style; it don't interfere with these fools' family affairs; it + don't bring into their blood any No'th'n taint; it don't divide their + clannishness; it don't separate father and son, sister and brother; and + even if yo' got a foothold here and settled down, they know they can + always outvote yo' five to one! But let these same fools know that yo' 're + courtin' a So'th'n girl known to be 'Union' during the wah, that girl who + has laughed at their foolishness; let them even THINK that he wants that + girl to mix up the family and the race and the property for him, and there + ain't a young or old fool that believes in So'th'n isolation as the price + of So'th'n salvation that wouldn't rise against yo'! There isn't one that + wouldn't make shipwreck of yo'r syndicate and yo'r capital and the + prosperity of Redlands for the next four years to come, and think they + were doing right! They began to suspect yo' from the first! They suspected + yo' when yo' never went anywhere, but stuck close to the fahm and me. + That's why I wanted yo' to show yourself among the girls; they wouldn't + have minded yo' flirting with them with the chance of yo' breaking yo' + heart over Tave Reed or Lympy Morris! They're fools enough to believe that + a snub or a jilt from a So'th'n girl would pay them back for a lost battle + or a ruined plantation!” + </p> + <p> + For the first time Miss Sally saw Courtland's calm blood fly to his cheek + and kindle in his eye. “You surely do not expect ME to tolerate this blind + and insolent interference!” he said, rising to his feet. + </p> + <p> + She lifted her ungloved hand in deprecation. “Sit still, co'nnle. Yo' 've + been a soldier, and yo' know what duty is. Well! what's yo' duty to yo' + company?” + </p> + <p> + “It neither includes my private affairs nor regulates the beating of my + heart. I will resign.” + </p> + <p> + “And leave me and Aunt Miranda and the plantation?” + </p> + <p> + “No! The company will find another superintendent to look after your + aunt's affairs and carry out our plans. And you, Sally—you will let + me find you a home and fortune North? There is work for me there; there is + room for you among my people.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head slowly with a sweet but superior smile. “No, co'nnle! I + didn't believe in the wah, but the least I could do was to stand by my + folks and share the punishment that I knew was coming from it. I despise + this foolishness as much as yo', but I can't run away from it. Come, + co'nnle, I won't ask yo' to forget this; mo', I'll even believe yo' MEANT + it, but yo' 'll promise me yo' won't speak of it again as long as yo' are + with the company and Aunt Miranda and me! There mustn't be more—there + mustn't even SEEM to be more—between us.” + </p> + <p> + “But then I may hope?” he said, eagerly grasping her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I promise nothing, for yo' must not even have THAT excuse for speaking of + this again, either from anything I do or may seem to do.” She stopped, + released her hand, as her eyes were suddenly fixed on the distance. Then + she said with a slight smile, but without the least embarrassment or + impatience: “There's Mr. Champney coming here now. I reckon he's looking + to see if that wreath is safe.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland looked up quickly. He could see the straw hat of the young + Englishman just above the myrtle bushes in a path intersecting the avenue. + A faint shadow crossed his face. “Let me know one thing more,” he said + hurriedly. “I know I have no right to ask the question, but has—has—has + Mr. Champney anything to do with your decision?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled brightly. “Yo' asked just now if yo' could have the same chance + he and Chet Brooks had. Well, poor Chet is dead, and Mr. Champney—well!—wait + and see.” She lifted her voice and called, “Mr. Champney!” The young + fellow came briskly towards them; his face betrayed a slight surprise, but + no discomfiture, as he recognized her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Champney,” said Miss Sally plaintively, “I've lost my glove + somewhere near pooah Brooks's tomb in the hollow. Won't you go and fetch + it, and come back here to take me home? The co'nnle has got to go and see + his sick niggers in the hospital.” Champney lifted his hat, nodded + genially to Courtland, and disappeared below the cypresses on the slope. + “Yo' mustn't be mad,” she said, turning in explanation to her companion, + “but we have been here too long already, and it's better that I should be + seen coming home with him than yo'.” + </p> + <p> + “Then this sectional interference does not touch him?” said Courtland + bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “No. He's an Englishman; his father was a known friend of the Confederacy, + and bought their cotton bonds.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, gazing into Courtland's face with a pretty vague impatience + and a slight pouting of her lip. + </p> + <p> + “Co'nnle!” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Sally.” + </p> + <p> + “Yo' say yo' had known me for three years before yo' saw me. Well, we met + once before we ever spoke to each other!” + </p> + <p> + Courtland looked in her laughing eyes with admiring wonder. “When?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “The first day yo' came! Yo' moved the ladder when I was on the cornice, + and I walked all ever yo' head. And, like a gentleman, yo' never said a + word about it. I reckon I stood on yo' head for five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Not as long as that,” said Courtland laughing, “if I remember rightly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Miss Sally with dancing eyes. “I, a So'th'n girl, actually set + my foot on the head of a No'th'n scum of a co'nnle! My!” + </p> + <p> + “Let that satisfy your friends then.” + </p> + <p> + “No! I want to apologize. Sit down, co'nnle.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Miss Sally”— + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, quick!” + </p> + <p> + He did so, seating himself sideways on the bank. Miss Sally stood beside + him. + </p> + <p> + “Take off yo' hat, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed smilingly. Miss Sally suddenly slipped behind him. He felt the + soft touch of her small hands on his shoulders; warm breath stirred the + roots of his hair, and then—the light pressure on his scalp of what + seemed the lips of a child. + </p> + <p> + He leaped to his feet, yet before he could turn completely round—a + difficulty the young lady had evidently calculated upon—he was too + late! The floating draperies of the artful and shameless Miss Sally were + already disappearing among the tombs in the direction of the hollow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + The house occupied by the manager of the Drummond Syndicate in Redlands—the + former residence of a local lawyer and justice of the peace—was not + large, but had an imposing portico of wooden Doric columns, which extended + to the roof and fronted the main street. The all-pervading creeper closely + covered it; the sidewalk before it was shaded by a row of broad-leaved + ailantus. The front room, with French windows opening on the portico, was + used by Colonel Courtland as a general office; beyond this a sitting-room + and dining-room overlooked the old-fashioned garden with its detached + kitchen and inevitable negro cabin. It was a close evening; there were + dark clouds coming up in the direction of the turnpike road, but the + leaves of the ailantus hung heavy and motionless in the hush of an + impending storm. The sparks of lazily floating fireflies softly expanded + and went out in the gloom of the black foliage, or in the dark recesses of + the office, whose windows were widely open, and whose lights Courtland had + extinguished when he brought his armchair to the portico for coolness. One + of these sparks beyond the fence, although alternately glowing and paling, + was still so persistent and stationary that Courtland leaned forward to + watch it more closely, at which it disappeared, and a voice from the + street said:— + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Courtland?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Come in, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + The voice was Champney's, and the light was from his cigar. As he opened + the gate and came slowly up the steps of the portico the usual hesitation + of his manner seemed to have increased. A long sigh trilled the limp + leaves of the ailantus and as quickly subsided. A few heavy perpendicular + raindrops crashed and spattered through the foliage like molten lead. + </p> + <p> + “You've just escaped the shower,” said Courtland pleasantly. He had not + seen Champney since they parted in the cemetery six weeks before. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!—I—I thought I'd like to have a little talk with you, + Courtland,” said Champney. He hesitated a moment before the proffered + chair, and then added, with a cautious glance towards the street, “Hadn't + we better go inside?” + </p> + <p> + “As you like. But you'll find it wofully hot. We're quite alone here; + there's nobody in the house, and this shower will drive any loungers from + the street.” He was quite frank, although their relations to each other in + regard to Miss Sally were still so undefined as to scarcely invite his + confidence. + </p> + <p> + Howbeit Champney took the proffered chair and the glass of julep which + Courtland brought him. + </p> + <p> + “You remember my speaking to you of Dumont?” he said hesitatingly, “Miss + Dows' French cousin, you know? Well—he's coming here: he's got + property here—those three houses opposite the Court House. From what + I hear, he's come over with a lot of new-fangled French ideas on the + nigger question—rot about equality and fraternity, don't you know—and + the highest education and highest offices for them. You know what the + feeling is here already? You know what happened at the last election at + Coolidgeville—how the whites wouldn't let the niggers go to the + polls and the jolly row that was kicked up over it? Well, it looks as if + that sort of thing might happen HERE, don't you know, if Miss Dows takes + up these ideas.” + </p> + <p> + “But I've reason to suppose—I mean,” said Courtland correcting + himself with some deliberation, “that any one who knows Miss Dows' + opinions knows that these are not her views. Why should she take them up?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she takes HIM up,” returned Champney hurriedly; “and even if she + didn't believe in them herself, she'd have to share the responsibility + with him in the eyes of every unreconstructed rowdy like Tom Higbee and + the rest of them. They'd make short work of her niggers all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't see why she should be made responsible for the opinions of + her cousin, nor do I exactly knew what 'taking him up' means,” returned + Courtland quietly. + </p> + <p> + Champney moistened his dry lips with the julep and uttered a nervous + laugh. “Suppose we say her husband—for that's what his coming back + here means. Everybody knows that; you would, too, if you ever talked with + her about anything but business.” + </p> + <p> + A bright flash of lightning that lit up the faces of the two men would + have revealed Champney's flushed features and Courtland's lack of color + had they been looking at each other. But they were not, and the long + reverberating crash of thunder which followed prevented any audible reply + from Courtland, and covered his agitation. + </p> + <p> + For without fully accepting Champney's conclusions he was cruelly shocked + at the young man's utterance of them. He had scrupulously respected the + wishes of Miss Sally and had faithfully—although never hopelessly—held + back any expression of his own love since their conversation in the + cemetery. But while his native truthfulness and sense of honor had + overlooked the seeming insincerity of her attitude towards Champney, he + had never justified his own tacit participation in it, and the concealment + of his own pretensions before his possible rival. It was true that she had + forbidden him to openly enter the lists with her admirers, but Champney's + innocent assumption of his indifference to her and his consequent half + confidences added poignancy to his story. There seemed to be only one way + to extricate himself, and that was by a quarrel. Whether he did or did not + believe Champney's story, whether it was only the jealous exaggeration of + a rival, or Miss Sally was actually deceiving them both, his position had + become intolerable. + </p> + <p> + “I must remind you, Champney,” he said, with freezing deliberation, “that + Miss Miranda Dows and her niece now represent the Drummond Company equally + with myself, and that you cannot expect me to listen to any reflections + upon the way they choose to administer their part in its affairs, either + now, or to come. Still less do I care to discuss the idle gossip which can + affect only the PRIVATE interests of these ladies, with which neither you + nor I have any right to interfere.” + </p> + <p> + But the naivete of the young Englishman was as invincible as Miss Sally's + own, and as fatal to Courtland's attitude. “Of course I haven't any RIGHT, + you know,” he said, calmly ignoring the severe preamble of his companion's + speech, “but I say! hang it all! even if a fellow has no chance HIMSELF, + he don't like to see a girl throw herself and her property away on a man + like that.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Champney,” said Courtland, under the infection of his guest's + simplicity, abandoning his former superior attitude. “You say you have no + chance. Do you want me to understand that you are regularly a suitor of + Miss Dows?” + </p> + <p> + “Y-e-e-s,” said the young fellow, but with the hesitation of + conscientiousness rather than evasion. “That is—you know I WAS. But + don't you see, it couldn't be. It wouldn't do, you know. If those clannish + neighbors of hers—that Southern set—suspected that Miss Sally + was courted by an Englishman, don't you know—a poacher on their + preserves—it would be all up with her position on the property and + her influence over them. I don't mind telling you that's one reason why I + left the company and took that other plantation. But even that didn't + work; they had their suspicions excited already.” + </p> + <p> + “Did Miss Dows give that as a reason for declining your suit?” asked + Courtland slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You know what a straightforward girl she is. She didn't come no rot + about 'not expecting anything of the kind,' or about 'being a sister to + me,' and all that, for, by Jove! she's always more like a fellow's sister, + don't you know, than his girl. Of course, it was hard lines for me, but I + suppose she was about right.” He stopped, and then added with a kind of + gentle persistency: “YOU think she was about right, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + With what was passing in Courtland's mind the question seemed so bitterly + ironical that at first he leaned half angrily forward, in an unconscious + attempt to catch the speaker's expression in the darkness. “I should + hardly venture to give an opinion,” he said, after a pause. “Miss Dows' + relations with her neighbors are so very peculiar. And from what you tell + me of her cousin it would seem that her desire to placate them is not + always to be depended upon.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not finding fault with HER, you know,” said Champney hastily. “I'm + not such a beastly cad as that; I wouldn't have spoken of my affairs at + all, but you asked, you know. I only thought, if she was going to get + herself into trouble on account of that Frenchman, you might talk to her—she'd + listen to you, because she'd know you only did it out of business reasons. + And they're really business reasons, you know. I suppose you don't think + much of my business capacity, colonel, and you wouldn't go much on my + judgment—especially now; but I've been here longer than you and”—he + lowered his voice slightly and dragged his chair nearer Courtland—“I + don't like the looks of things here. There's some devilment plotting among + those rascals. They're only awaiting an opportunity; a single flash would + be enough to set them in a blaze, even if the fire wasn't lit and + smouldering already like a spark in a bale of cotton. I'd cut the whole + thing and clear out if I didn't think it would make it harder for Miss + Dows, who would be left alone.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a good fellow, Champney,” said Courtland, laying his hand on the + young man's shoulder with a sudden impulse, “and I forgive you for + overlooking any concern that I might have. Indeed,” he added, with an odd + seriousness and a half sigh, “it's not strange that you should. But I must + remind you that the Dowses are strictly the agents and tenants of the + company I represent, and that their rights and property under that tenancy + shall not be interfered with by others as long as I am here. I have no + right, however,” he added gravely, “to keep Miss Dows from imperiling them + by her social relations.” + </p> + <p> + Champney rose and shook hands with him awkwardly. “The shower seems to be + holding up,” he said, “and I'll toddle along before it starts afresh. + Good-night! I say—you didn't mind my coming to you this way, did + you? By Jove! I thought you were a little stand-offish at first. But you + know what I meant?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, and I thank you.” They shook hands again. Champney stepped + from the portico, and, reaching the gate, seemed to vanish as he had come, + out of the darkness. + </p> + <p> + The storm was not yet over; the air had again become close and + suffocating. Courtland remained brooding in his chair. Whether he could + accept Champney's news as true or not, he felt that he must end this + suspense at once. A half-guilty consciousness that he was thinking more of + it in reference to his own passion than his duty to the company did not + render his meditations less unpleasant. Yet while he could not reconcile + Miss Sally's confidences in the cemetery concerning the indifference of + her people to Champney's attentions with what Champney had just told him + of the reasons she had given HIM for declining them, I am afraid he was + not shocked by her peculiar ethics. A lover seldom finds fault with his + mistress for deceiving his rival, and is as little apt to consider the + logical deduction that she could deceive him also, as Othello was to + accept Brabantio's warning, The masculine sense of honor which might have + resented the friendship of a man capable of such treachery did not + hesitate to accept the love of a woman under the same conditions. Perhaps + there was an implied compliment in thus allowing her to take the sole + ethical responsibility, which few women would resist. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this gloomy abstraction Courtland suddenly raised his head + and listened. + </p> + <p> + “Cato.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sah.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of heavy footsteps in the hall coming from the rear of + the house, and presently a darker bulk appeared in the shadowed doorway. + It was his principal overseer—a strong and superior negro, selected + by his fellow-freedmen from among their number in accordance with + Courtland's new regime. + </p> + <p> + “Did you come here from the plantation or the town?” + </p> + <p> + “The town, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better keep out of the town in the evenings for the + present,” said Courtland in a tone of quiet but positive authority. + </p> + <p> + “Are dey goin' to bring back de ole 'patter rollers,' * sah?” asked the man + with a slight sneer. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The “patrol” or local police who formerly had the + surveillance of slaves. +</pre> + <p> + “I don't know,” returned Courtland calmly, ignoring his overseer's manner. + “But if they did you must comply with the local regulations unless they + conflict with the Federal laws, when you must appeal to the Federal + authorities. I prefer you should avoid any trouble until you are sure.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon they won't try any games on me,” said the negro with a short + laugh. + </p> + <p> + Courtland looked at him intently. + </p> + <p> + “I thought as much! You're carrying arms, Cato! Hand them over.” + </p> + <p> + The overseer hesitated for a moment, and then unstrapped a revolver from + his belt, and handed it to Courtland. + </p> + <p> + “Now how many of you are in the habit of going round the town armed like + this?” + </p> + <p> + “Only de men who've been insulted, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “And how have YOU been insulted?” + </p> + <p> + “Marse Tom Highee down in de market reckoned it was high time fancy + niggers was drov into de swamp, and I allowed that loafers and beggars had + better roost high when workin' folks was around, and Marse Tom said he'd + cut my haht out.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think your carrying a revolver will prevent him and his + friends performing that operation if you provoked them?” + </p> + <p> + “You said we was to pertect ourse'fs, sah,” returned the negro gloomily. + “What foh den did you drill us to use dem rifles in de armory?” + </p> + <p> + “To defend yourselves TOGETHER under orders if attacked, not to singly + threaten with them in a street row. Together, you would stand some chance + against those men; separately they could eat you up, Cato.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't trust too much to some of dem niggers standing together, sah,” + said Gate darkly. “Dey'd run before de old masters—if they didn't + run to 'em. Shuah!” + </p> + <p> + A fear of this kind had crossed Courtland's mind before, but he made no + present comment. “I found two of the armory rifles in the men's cabins + yesterday,” he resumed quietly. “See that it does not occur again! They + must not be taken from the armory except to defend it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sah.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of silence. Then it was broken by a sudden gust that + swept through the columns of the portico, stirring the vines. The broad + leaves of the ailantus began to rustle; an ominous pattering followed; the + rain had recommenced. And as Courtland rose and walked towards the open + window its blank panes and the interior of the office were suddenly + illuminated by a gleam of returning lightning. + </p> + <p> + He entered the office, bidding Cato follow, and lit the lamp above his + desk. The negro remained standing gloomily but respectfully by the window. + </p> + <p> + “Cato, do you know anything of Mr. Dumont—Miss Dows' cousin?” + </p> + <p> + The negro's white teeth suddenly flashed in the lamplight. “Ya! ha! I + reckon, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he's a great friend of your people?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about dat, sah. But he's a pow'ful enemy of de Reeds and de + Higbees!” + </p> + <p> + “On account of his views, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “'Deed no!” said Cato with an astounded air. “Jess on account of de + vendetta!” + </p> + <p> + “The vendetta?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sah. De old blood quo'll of de families. It's been goin' on over + fifty years, sah. De granfader, fader, and brudder of de Higbees was + killed by de granfader, fader, and brudder of de Doomonts. De Reeds + chipped in when all de Higbees was played out, fo' dey was relations, but + dey was chawed up by some of de Dowses, first cousins to de Doomonts.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Are the Dows in this vendetta?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sah. No mo'. Dey's bin no man in de family since Miss Sally's fader + died—dat's let de Dows out fo' ever. De las' shootin' was done by + Marse Jack Doomont, who crippled Marse Tom Higbee's brudder Jo, and den + skipped to Europe. Dey say he's come back, and is lying low over at + Atlanty. Dar'll be lively times of he comes here to see Miss Sally.” + </p> + <p> + “But he may have changed his ideas while living abroad, where this sort of + thing is simple murder.” + </p> + <p> + The negro shook his head grimly. “Den he wouldn't come, sah. No, sah. He + knows dat Tom Higbee's bound to go fo' him or leave de place, and Marse + Jack wouldn't mind settlin' HIM too as well as his brudder, for de scores + is agin' de Doomonts yet. And Marse Jack ain't no slouch wid a scatter + gun.” + </p> + <p> + At any other time the imminence of this survival of a lawless barbarism of + which he had heard so much would have impressed Courtland; now he was only + interested in it on account of the inconceivable position in which it left + Miss Sally. Had she anything to do with this baleful cousin's return, or + was she only to be a helpless victim of it? + </p> + <p> + A white, dazzling, and bewildering flash of lightning suddenly lit up the + room, the porch, the dripping ailantus, and the flooded street beyond. It + was followed presently by a crash of thunder, with what seemed to be a + second fainter flash of lightning, or rather as if the first flash had + suddenly ignited some inflammable substance. With the long reverberation + of the thunder still shaking the house, Courtland slipped quickly out of + the window and passed down to the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Did it strike anything, sah?” said the startled negro, as Courtland + returned. + </p> + <p> + “Not that I can see,” said his employer shortly. “Go inside, and call Zoe + and her daughter from the cabin and bring them in the hall. Stay till I + come. Go!—I'll shut the windows myself.” + </p> + <p> + “It must have struck somewhere, sah, shuah! Deh's a pow'ful smell of + sulphur right here,” said the negro as he left the room. + </p> + <p> + Courtland thought so too, but it was a kind of sulphur that he had smelled + before—on the battlefield! For when the door was closed behind his + overseer he took the lamp to the opposite wall and examined it carefully. + There was the distinct hole made by a bullet which had missed Cato's head + at the open window by an inch. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + In an instant Courtland had regained complete possession of himself. His + distracting passion—how distracting he had never before realized—was + gone! His clear sight—no longer distorted by sentiment—had + come back; he saw everything in its just proportion—his duty, the + plantation, the helpless freedman threatened by lawless fury; the two + women—no longer his one tantalizing vision, but now only a passing + detail of the work before him. He saw them through no aberrating mist of + tenderness or expediency—but with the single directness of the man + of action. + </p> + <p> + The shot had clearly been intended for Cato. Even if it were an act of + mere personal revenge, it showed a confidence and security in the would-be + assassin that betokened cooperation and an organized plan. He had availed + himself of the thunderstorm, the flash and long reverberating roll of + sound—an artifice not unknown to border ambush—to confuse + discovery at the instant. Yet the attack might be only an isolated one; or + it might be the beginning of a general raid upon the Syndicate's freedmen. + If the former he could protect Cato from its repetition by guarding him in + the office until he could be conveyed to a place of safety; if the latter, + he must at once collect the negroes at their quarters, and take Cato with + him. He resolved upon the latter course. The quarters were half a mile + from the Dows' dwelling—which was two miles away. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and wrote a few lines to Miss Dows stating that, in view of + some threatened disturbances in the town, he thought it advisable to keep + the negroes in their quarters, whither he was himself going. He sent her + his housekeeper and the child, as they had both better remain in a place + of security until he returned to town. He gave the note to Zoe, bidding + her hasten by the back garden across the fields. Then he turned to Cato. + </p> + <p> + “I am going with you to the quarters tonight,” he said quietly, “and you + can carry your pistol back to the armory yourself.” He handed him the + weapon. The negro received it gratefully, but suddenly cast a searching + glance at his employer. Courtland's face, however, betrayed no change. + When Zoe had gone, he continued tranquilly, “We will go by the back way + through the woods.” As the negro started slightly, Courtland continued in + the same even tone: “The sulphur you smelled just now, Cato, was the smoke + of a gun fired at YOU from the street. I don't propose that the shot shall + be repeated under the same advantages.” + </p> + <p> + The negro became violently agitated. “It was dat sneakin' hound, Tom + Higbee,” he said huskily. + </p> + <p> + Courtland looked at him sharply. “Then there was something more than WORDS + passed between him and you, Cato. What happened? Come, speak out!” + </p> + <p> + “He lashed me with his whip, and I gib him one right under the yeah, and + drupped him,” said Cato, recovering his courage with his anger at the + recollection. “I had a right to defend myse'f, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I hope you'll be able to do it, now,” said Courtland calmly, his + face giving no sign of his conviction that Cato's fate was doomed by that + single retaliating blow, “but you'll be safer at the quarters.” He passed + into his bedroom, took a revolver from his bedhead and a derringer from + the drawer, both of which he quickly slipped beneath his buttoned coat, + and returned. + </p> + <p> + “When we are in the fields, clear of the house, keep close by my side, and + even try to keep step with me. What you have to say, say NOW; there must + be no talking to betray our position—we must go silently, and you'll + have enough to do to exercise your eyes and ears. I shall stand between + you and any attack, but I expect you to obey orders without hesitation.” + He opened the back door, motioned to Cato to pass out, followed him, + locked the door behind them, and taking the negro's arm walked beside the + low palings to the end of the garden, where they climbed the fence and + stood upon the open field beyond. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, it had grown lighter with the breaking of the heavy clouds, + and gusty gleams of moonlight chased each other over the field, or struck + a glitter from standing rain-pools between the little hillocks. To cross + the open field and gain the fringe of woods on the other side was the + nearest way to the quarters, but for the moment was the most exposed + course; to follow the hedge to the bottom of the field and the boundary + fence and then cross at right angles, in its shadow, would be safer, but + they would lose valuable time. Believing that Cato's vengeful assailant + was still hovering near with his comrades, Courtland cast a quick glance + down the shadowy line of Osage hedge beside them. Suddenly Cato grasped + his arm and pointed in the same direction, where the boundary fence he had + noticed—a barrier of rough palings—crossed the field. With the + moon low on the other side of it, it was a mere black silhouette, broken + only by bright silver openings and gaps along its surface that indicated + the moonlit field beyond. At first Courtland saw nothing else. Then he was + struck by the fact that these openings became successively and regularly + eclipsed, as with the passing of some opaque object behind them. It was a + file of men on the other side of the fence, keeping in its shelter as they + crossed the field towards his house. Roughly calculating from the passing + obscurations, there must have been twelve or fifteen in all. + </p> + <p> + He could no longer doubt their combined intentions, nor hesitate how to + meet them. He must at once make for the quarters with Cato, even if he had + to cross that open field before them. He knew that they would avoid + injuring him personally, in the fear of possible Federal and political + complications, and he resolved to use that fear to insure Cato's safety. + Placing his hands on the negro's shoulders, he shoved him forwards, + falling into a “lock step” so close behind him that it became impossible + for the most expert marksman to fire at one without imperiling the other's + life. When half way across the field he noticed that the shadows seen + through the openings of the fence had paused. The ambushed men had + evidently seen the double apparition, understood it, and, as he expected, + dared not fire. He reached the other side with Cato in safety, but not + before he saw the fateful shadows again moving, and this time in their own + direction. They were evidently intending to pursue them. But once within + the woods Courtland knew that his chances were equal. He breathed more + freely. Cato, now less agitated, had even regained something of his former + emotional combativeness which Courtland had checked. Although far from + confident of his henchman's prowess in an emergency, the prospect of + getting him safe into the quarters seemed brighter. + </p> + <p> + It was necessary, also, to trust to his superior wood-craft and knowledge + of the locality, and Courtland still walking between him and his pursuers + and covering his retreat allowed him to lead the way. It lay over ground + that was beginning to slope gently; the underbrush was presently exchanged + for springy moss, the character of the trees changed, the black trunks of + cypresses made the gloom thicker. Trailing vines and parasites brushed + their faces, a current of damp air seemed to flow just above the soil in + which their lower limbs moved sluggishly as through stagnant water. As yet + there was no indication of pursuit. But Courtland felt that it was not + abandoned. Indeed, he had barely time to check an exclamation from the + negro, before the dull gallop of horse-hoofs in the open ahead of them was + plain to them both. It was a second party of their pursuers, mounted, who + had evidently been sent to prevent their final egress from the woods, + while those they had just evaded were no doubt slowly and silently + following them on foot. They were to be caught between two fires! + </p> + <p> + “What is there to the left of us?” whispered Courtland quickly. + </p> + <p> + “De swamp.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland set his teeth together. His dull-witted companion had evidently + walked them both into the trap! Nevertheless, his resolve was quickly + made. He could already see through the thinning fringe of timber the + figures of the mounted men in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + “This should be the boundary line of the plantation? This field beside us + is ours?” he said interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” returned the negro, “but de quarters is a mile furder.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Stay here until I come back or call you; I'm going to talk to these + fellows. But if you value your life, don't YOU speak nor stir.” + </p> + <p> + He strode quickly through the intervening trees and stepped out into the + moonlight. A suppressed shout greeted him, and half a dozen mounted men, + masked and carrying rifles, rode down towards him, but he remained quietly + waiting there, and as the nearest approached him, he made a step forward + and cried, “Halt!” + </p> + <p> + The men pulled up sharply and mechanically at that ring of military + imperiousness. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” said Courtland. + </p> + <p> + “We reckon that's OUR business, co'nnle.” + </p> + <p> + “It's mine, when you're on property that I control.” + </p> + <p> + The man hesitated and looked interrogatively towards his fellows. “I allow + you've got us there, co'nnle,” he said at last with the lazy insolence of + conscious power, “but I don't mind telling you we're wanting a nigger + about the size of your Cato. We hain't got anything agin YOU, co'nnle; we + don't want to interfere with YOUR property, and YOUR ways, but we don't + calculate to have strangers interfere with OUR ways and OUR customs. Trot + out your nigger—you No'th'n folks don't call HIM 'property,' you + know—and we'll clear off your land.” + </p> + <p> + “And may I ask what you want of Cato?” said Courtland quietly. + </p> + <p> + “To show him that all the Federal law in h-ll won't protect him when he + strikes a white man!” burst out one of the masked figures, riding forward. + </p> + <p> + “Then you compel me to show YOU,” said Courtland immovably, “what any + Federal citizen may do in the defense of Federal law. For I'll kill the + first man that attempts to lay hands upon him on my property. Some of you, + who have already tried to assassinate him in cold blood, I have met before + in less dishonorable warfare than this, and THEY know I am able to keep my + word.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment's silence; the barrel of the revolver he was holding at + his side glistened for an instant in the moonlight, but he did not move. + The two men rode up to the first speaker and exchanged words. A light + laugh followed, and the first speaker turned again to Courtland with a + mocking politeness. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, co'nnle, if that's your opinion, and you allow we can't follow + our game over your property, why, we reckon we'll have to give way TO + THOSE WHO CAN. Sorry to have troubled YOU. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his hat ironically, waved it to his followers, and the next + moment the whole party were galloping furiously towards the high road. + </p> + <p> + For the first time that evening a nervous sense of apprehension passed + over Courtland. The impending of some unknown danger is always more + terrible to a brave man than the most overwhelming odds that he can see + and realize. He felt instinctively that they had uttered no vague bravado + to cover up their defeat; there was still some advantage on which they + confidently reckoned—but what? Was it only a reference to the other + party tracking them through the woods on which their enemies now solely + relied? He regained Cato quickly; the white teeth of the foolishly + confident negro were already flashing his imagined triumph to his + employer. Courtland's heart grew sick as he saw it. + </p> + <p> + “We're not out of the woods yet, Cato,” he said dryly; “nor are they. Keep + your eyes and ears open, and attend to me. How long can we keep in the + cover of these woods, and still push on in the direction of the quarters?” + </p> + <p> + “There's a way roun' de edge o' de swamp, sah, but we'd have to go back a + spell to find it.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” + </p> + <p> + “And dar's moccasins and copperheads lying round here in de trail! Dey + don't go for us ginerally—but,” he hesitated, “white men don't stand + much show.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Then it is as bad for those who are chasing us as for me. That will + do. Lead on.” + </p> + <p> + They retraced their steps cautiously, until the negro turned into a + lighter by-way. A strange mephitic odor seemed to come from sodden leaves + and mosses that began to ooze under their feet. They had picked their way + in silence for some minutes; the stunted willows and cypress standing + farther and farther apart, and the openings with clumps of sedge were + frequent. Courtland was beginning to fear this exposure of his follower, + and had moved up beside him, when suddenly the negro caught his arm, and + trembled violently. His lips were parted over his teeth, the whites of his + eyes glistened, he seemed gasping and speechless with fear. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Cato?” said Courtland glancing instinctively at the + ground beneath. “Speak, man!—have you been bitten?” + </p> + <p> + The word seemed to wring an agonized cry from the miserable man. + </p> + <p> + “Bitten! No; but don't you hear 'em coming, sah! God Almighty! don't you + hear dat?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “De dogs! de houns!—DE BLOODHOUNS! Dey've set 'em loose on me!” + </p> + <p> + It was true! A faint baying in the distance was now distinctly audible to + Courtland. He knew now plainly the full, cruel purport of the leader's + speech,—those who could go anywhere were tracking their game! + </p> + <p> + Every trace of manhood had vanished from the negro's cowering frame. + Courtland laid his hand assuringly, appealingly, and then savagely on his + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Come! Enough of this! I am here, and will stand by you, whatever comes. + These dogs are no more to be feared than the others. Rouse yourself, man, + and at least help ME make a fight of it.” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” screamed the terrified man. “Lemme go! Lemme go back to de + Massas! Tell 'em I'll come! Tell 'em to call de houns off me, and I'll go + quiet! Lemme go!” He struggled violently in his companion's grasp. + </p> + <p> + In all Courtland's self-control, habits of coolness, and discipline, it is + to be feared there was still something of the old Berserker temper. His + face was white, his eyes blazed in the darkness; only his voice kept that + level distinctness which made it for a moment more terrible than even the + baying of the tracking hounds to the negro's ear. “Cato,” he said, + “attempt to run now, and, by God! I'll save the dogs the trouble of + grappling your living carcass! Come here! Up that tree with you!” pointing + to a swamp magnolia. “Don't move as long as I can stand here, and when I'm + down—but not till then—save yourself—the best you can.” + </p> + <p> + He half helped, half dragged, the now passive African to the solitary + tree; as the bay of a single hound came nearer, the negro convulsively + scrambled from Courtland's knee and shoulder to the fork of branches a + dozen feet from the ground. Courtland drew his revolver, and, stepping + back a few yards into the open, awaited the attack. + </p> + <p> + It came unexpectedly from behind. A sudden yelp of panting cruelty and + frenzied anticipation at Courtland's back caused him to change front + quickly, and the dripping fangs and snaky boa-like neck of a gray weird + shadow passed him. With an awful supernaturalness of instinct, it kept on + in an unerring line to the fateful tree. But that dread directness of + scent was Courtland's opportunity. His revolver flashed out in an aim as + unerring. The brute, pierced through neck and brain, dashed on against the + tree in his impetus, and then rolled over against it in a quivering bulk. + Again another bay coming from the same direction told Courtland that his + pursuers had outflanked him, and the whole pack were crossing the swamp. + But he was prepared; again the same weird shadow, as spectral and + monstrous as a dream, dashed out into the brief light of the open, but + this time it was stopped, and rolled over convulsively before it had + crossed. Flushed, with the fire of fight in his veins, Courtland turned + almost furiously from the fallen brutes at his feet to meet the onset of + the more cowardly hunters whom he knew were at his heels. At that moment + it would have fared ill with the foremost. No longer the calculating + steward and diplomatic manager, no longer the cool-headed arbiter of + conflicting interests, he was ready to meet them, not only with the + intrepid instincts of a soldier, but with an aroused partisan fury equal + to their own. To his surprise no one followed; the baying of a third hound + seemed to be silenced and checked; the silence was broken only by the + sound of distant disputing voices and the uneasy trampling of hoofs. This + was followed by two or three rifle shots in the distance, but not either + in the direction of the quarters nor the Dows' dwelling-house. There + evidently was some interruption in the pursuit,—a diversion of some + kind had taken place,—but what he knew not. He could think of no one + who might have interfered on his behalf, and the shouting and wrangling + seemed to be carried on in the accents of the one sectional party. He + called cautiously to Cato. The negro did not reply. He crossed to the tree + and shook it impatiently. Its boughs were empty; Cato was gone! The + miserable negro must have taken advantage of the first diversion in his + favor to escape. But where, and how, there was nothing left to indicate. + </p> + <p> + As Courtland had taken little note of the trail, he had no idea of his own + whereabouts. He knew he must return to the fringe of cypress to be able to + cross the open field and gain the negro quarters, where it was still + possible that Cato had fled. Taking a general direction from the few stars + visible above the opening, he began to retrace his steps. But he had no + longer the negro's woodcraft to guide him. At times his feet were caught + in trailing vines which seemed to coil around his ankles with ominous + suggestiveness; at times the yielding soil beneath his tread showed his + perilous proximity to the swamp, as well as the fact that he was beginning + to incline towards that dread circle which is the hopeless instinct of all + lost and straying humanity. Luckily the edge of the swamp was more open, + and he would be enabled to correct his changed course again by the + position of the stars. But he was becoming chilled and exhausted by these + fruitless efforts, and at length, after a more devious and prolonged + detour, which brought him back to the swamp again, he resolved to skirt + its edge in search of some other mode of issuance. Beyond him, the light + seemed stronger, as of a more extended opening or clearing, and there was + even a superficial gleam from the end of the swamp itself, as if from some + ignis fatuus or the glancing of a pool of unbroken water. A few rods + farther brought him to it and a full view of the unencumbered expanse. + Beyond him, far across the swamp, he could see a hillside bathed in the + moonlight with symmetrical lines of small white squares dotting its slopes + and stretching down into a valley of gleaming shafts, pyramids, and tombs. + It was the cemetery; the white squares on the hillside were the soldiers' + graves. And among them even at that distance, uplifting solemnly, like a + reproachful phantom, was the broken shaft above the dust of Chester + Brooks. + </p> + <p> + With the view of that fateful spot, which he had not seen since his last + meeting there with Sally Dows, a flood of recollection rushed upon him. In + the white mist that hung low along the farther edge of the swamp he + fancied he could see again the battery smoke through which the ghostly + figure of the dead rider had charged his gun three years before; in the + vapory white plumes of a funereal plant in the long avenue he was reminded + of the light figure of Miss Sally as she appeared at their last meeting. + In another moment, in his already dazed condition, he might have succumbed + to some sensuous memory of her former fascinations, but he threw it off + savagely now, with a quick and bitter recalling of her deceit and his own + weakness. Turning his back upon the scene with a half-superstitious + tremor, he plunged once more into the trackless covert. But he was + conscious that his eyesight was gradually growing dim and his strength + falling. He was obliged from time to time to stop and rally his sluggish + senses, that seemed to grow heavier under some deadly exhalation that + flowed around him. He even seemed to hear familiar voices,—but that + must be delusion. At last he stumbled. Throwing out an arm to protect + himself, he came heavily down upon the ooze, striking a dull, half-elastic + root that seemed—it must have been another delusion—to move + beneath him, and even—so confused were his senses now—to + strike back angrily upon his prostrate arm. A sharp pain ran from his + elbow to shoulder and for a moment stung him to full consciousness again. + There were voices surely,—the voices of their former pursuers! If + they were seeking to revenge themselves upon him for Cato's escape, he was + ready for them. He cocked his revolver and stood erect. A torch flashed + through the wood. But even at that moment a film came over his eyes; he + staggered and fell. + </p> + <p> + An interval of helpless semi-consciousness ensued. He felt himself lifted + by strong arms and carried forward, his arm hanging uselessly at his side. + The dank odor of the wood was presently exchanged for the free air of the + open field; the flaming pine-knot torches were extinguished in the bright + moonlight. People pressed around him, but so indistinctly he could not + recognize them. All his consciousness seemed centred in the burning, + throbbing pain of his arm. He felt himself laid upon the gravel; the + sleeve cut from his shoulder, the cool sensation of the hot and bursting + skin bared to the night air, and then a soft, cool, and indescribable + pressure upon a wound he had not felt before. A voice followed,—high, + lazily petulant, and familiar to him, and yet one he strove in vain to + recall. + </p> + <p> + “De Lawdy-Gawd save us, Miss Sally! Wot yo' doin' dah? Chile! Chile! Yo' + 'll kill yo'se'f, shuah!” + </p> + <p> + The pressure continued, strange and potent even through his pain, and was + then withdrawn. And a voice that thrilled him said:— + </p> + <p> + “It's the only thing to save him! Hush, ye chattering black crow! Say + anything about this to a living soul, and I'll have yo' flogged! Now trot + out the whiskey bottle and pour it down him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + When Courtland's eyes opened again, he was in bed in his own room at + Redlands, with the vivid morning sun occasionally lighting up the wall + whenever the closely drawn curtains were lightly blown aside by the + freshening breeze. The whole events of the night might have been a dream + but for the insupportable languor which numbed his senses, and the torpor + of his arm, that, swollen and discolored, lay outside the coverlet on a + pillow before him. Cloths that had been wrung out in iced water were + replaced upon it from time to time by Sophy, Miss Dows' housekeeper, who, + seated near his bedhead, was lazily fanning him. Their eyes met. + </p> + <p> + “Broken?” he said interrogatively, with a faint return of his old + deliberate manner, glancing at his helpless arm. + </p> + <p> + “Deedy no, cunnle! Snake bite,” responded the negress. + </p> + <p> + “Snake bite!” repeated Courtland with languid interest, “what snake?” + </p> + <p> + “Moccasin o' copperhead—if you doun know yo'se'f which,” she + replied. “But it's all right now, honey! De pizen's draw'd out and clean + gone. Wot yer feels now is de whiskey. De whiskey STAYS, sah. It gets into + de lubrications of de skin, sah, and has to be abso'bed.” + </p> + <p> + Some faint chord of memory was touched by the girl's peculiar vocabulary. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Courtland quickly, “you're Miss Dows' Sophy. Then you can tell + me”— + </p> + <p> + “Nuffin, sah absomlutely nuffin!” interrupted the girl, shaking her head + with impressive official dignity. “It's done gone fo'bid by de doctor! Yo' + 're to lie dar and shut yo'r eye, honey,” she added, for the moment + reverting unconsciously to the native maternal tenderness of her race, + “and yo' 're not to bodder yo'se'f ef school keeps o' not. De medical man + say distinctly, sah,” she concluded, sternly recalling her duty again, “no + conversation wid de patient.” + </p> + <p> + But Courtland had winning ways with all dependents. “But you will answer + me ONE question, Sophy, and I'll not ask another. Has”—he hesitated + in his still uncertainty as to the actuality of his experience and its + probable extent—“has—Cato—escaped?” + </p> + <p> + “If yo' mean dat sassy, bull-nigger oberseer of yo'se, cunnle, HE'S safe, + yo' bet!” returned Sophy sharply. “Safe in his own quo'tahs night afo' + las', after braggin' about the bloodhaowns he killed; and safe ober the + county line yes'day moan'in, after kicking up all dis rumpus. If dar is a + sassy, highfalutin' nigger I jiss 'spises—its dat black nigger Cato + o' yo'se! Now,”—relenting—“yo' jiss wink yo' eye, honey, and + don't excite yo'se'f about sach black trash; drap off to sleep comfor'ble. + Fo' you do'an get annuder word out o' Sophy, shuah!” + </p> + <p> + As if in obedience, Courtland closed his eyes. But even in his weak state + he was conscious of the blood coming into his cheek at Sophy's relentless + criticism of the man for whom he had just periled his life and position. + Much of it he felt was true; but how far had he been a dupe in his + quixotic defense of a quarrelsome blusterer and cowardly bully? Yet there + was the unmistakable shot and cold-blooded attempt at Cato's + assassination! And there were the bloodhounds sent to track the + unfortunate man! That was no dream—but a brutal inexcusable fact! + </p> + <p> + The medical practitioner of Redlands he remembered was conservative, + old-fashioned, and diplomatic. But his sympathies had been broadened by + some army experiences, and Courtland trusted to some soldierly and frank + exposition of the matter from him. Nevertheless, Dr. Maynard was first + healer, and, like Sophy, professionally cautious. The colonel had better + not talk about it now. It was already two days old; the colonel had been + nearly forty-eight hours in bed. It was a regrettable affair, but the + natural climax of long-continued political and racial irritation—and + not without GREAT provocation! Assassination was a strong word; could + Colonel Courtland swear that Cato was actually AIMED AT, or was it not + merely a demonstration to frighten a bullying negro? It might have been + necessary to teach him a lesson—which the colonel by this time ought + to know could only be taught to these inferior races by FEAR. The + bloodhounds! Ah, yes!—well, the bloodhounds were, in fact, only a + part of that wholesome discipline. Surely Colonel Courtland was not so + foolish as to believe that, even in the old slave-holding days, planters + sent dogs after runaways to mangle and destroy THEIR OWN PROPERTY? They + might as well, at once, let them escape! No, sir! They were used only to + frighten and drive the niggers out of swamps, brakes, and hiding-places—as + no nigger had ever dared to face 'em. Cato might lie as much as he liked, + but everybody knew WHO it was that killed Major Reed's hounds. Nobody + blamed the colonel for it,—not even Major Reed,—but if the + colonel had lived a little longer in the South, he'd have known it wasn't + necessary to do that in self-preservation, as the hounds would never have + gone for a white man. But that was not a matter for the colonel to bother + about NOW. He was doing well; he had slept nearly thirty hours; there was + no fever, he must continue to doze off the exhaustion of his powerful + stimulant, and he, the doctor, would return later in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was his very inability to grasp in that exhausted state the + full comprehension of the doctor's meaning, perhaps because the physical + benumbing of his brain was stronger than any mental excitement, but he + slept again until the doctor reappeared. “You're doing well enough now, + colonel,” said the physician, after a brief examination of his patient, + “and I think we can afford to wake you up a bit, and even let you move + your arm. You're luckier than poor Tom Higbee, who won't be able to set + his leg to the floor for three weeks to come. I haven't got all the + buckshot out of it yet that Jack Dumont put there the other night.” + </p> + <p> + Courtland started slightly. Jack Dumont! That was the name of Sally Dows + cousin of whom Champney had spoken! He had resolutely put aside from his + returning memory the hazy recollection of the young girl's voice—the + last thing he had heard that night—and the mystery that seemed to + surround it. But there was no delusion in this cousin—his rival, and + that of the equally deceived Champney. He controlled himself and repeated + coldly:— + </p> + <p> + “Jack Dumont!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But of course you knew nothing of all that, while you were off in + the swamp there. Yet, by Jingo! it was Dumont's shooting Higbee that + helped YOU to get off your nigger a darned sight more than YOUR killing + the dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand,” returned Courtland coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, Dumont, who had taken up No'th'n principles, I reckon, + more to goad the Higbees and please Sally Dows than from any conviction, + came over here that night. Whether he suspected anything was up, or wanted + to dare Higbee for bedevilment, or was only dancing attendance on Miss + Sally, no one knows. But he rode slap into Highee's party, called out, 'If + you're out hunting, Tom, here's a chance for your score!' meaning their + old vendetta feud, and brings his shot-gun up to his shoulder. Higbee + wasn't quick enough, Dumont lets fly, drops Higbee, and then gallops off + chased by the Reeds to avenge Higbee, and followed by the whole crowd to + see the fun, which was a little better than nigger-driving. And that let + you and Cato out, colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “And Dumont?” + </p> + <p> + “Got clean away to Foxboro' Station, leaving another score on his side for + the Reeds and Higbees to wipe out as best they can. You No'th'n men don't + believe in these sort of things, colonel, but taken as a straight dash and + hit o' raiding, that stroke of Sally Dows' cousin was mighty fine!” + </p> + <p> + Courtland controlled himself with difficulty. The doctor had spoken truly. + The hero of this miserable affair was HER cousin—HIS RIVAL! And to + him—perhaps influenced by some pitying appeal of Miss Sally for the + man she had deceived—Courtland owed his life! He instinctively drew + a quick, sharp breath. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in pain?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. When can I get up?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “And this arm?” + </p> + <p> + “Better not use it for a week or two.” He stopped, and, glancing + paternally at the younger man, added gravely but kindly: “If you'll take + my unprofessional advice, Colonel Courtland, you'll let this matter simmer + down. It won't hurt you and your affairs here that folks have had a taste + of your quality, and the nigger a lesson that his fellows won't forget.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” returned Courtland coldly; “but I think I already + understand my duty to the company I represent and the Government I have + served.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly, colonel,” said the doctor quietly; “but you'll let an older man + remind you and the Government that you can't change the habits or + relations of two distinct races in a few years. Your friend, Miss Sally + Dows—although not quite in my way of thinking—has never + attempted THAT.” + </p> + <p> + “I am fully aware that Miss Dows possesses diplomatic accomplishments and + graces that I cannot lay claim to,” returned Courtland bitterly. + </p> + <p> + The doctor lifted his eyebrows slightly and changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + When he had gone, Courtland called for writing materials. He had already + made up his mind, and one course alone seemed proper to him. He wrote to + the president of the company, detailing the circumstances that had just + occurred, admitting the alleged provocation given by his overseer, but + pointing out the terrorism of a mob-law which rendered his own discipline + impossible. He asked that the matter be reported to Washington, and some + measures taken for the protection of the freedmen, in the mean time he + begged to tender his own resignation, but he would stay until his + successor was appointed, or the safety of his employees secured. Until + then, he should act upon his own responsibility and according to his + judgment. He made no personal charges, mentioned no names, asked for no + exemplary prosecution or trial of the offenders, but only demanded a + safeguard against a repetition of the offense. His next letter, although + less formal and official, was more difficult. It was addressed to the + commandant of the nearest Federal barracks, who was an old friend and + former companion-in-arms. He alluded to some conversation they had + previously exchanged in regard to the presence of a small detachment of + troops at Redlands during the elections, which Courtland at the time, + however, had diplomatically opposed. He suggested it now as a matter of + public expediency and prevention. When he had sealed the letters, not + caring to expose them to the espionage of the local postmaster or his + ordinary servants, he intrusted them to one of Miss Sally's own henchmen, + to be posted at the next office, at Bitter Creek Station, ten miles + distant. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, this duty accomplished, the reaction consequent on his + still weak physical condition threw him back upon himself and his memory. + He had resolutely refused to think of Miss Sally; he had been able to + withstand the suggestions of her in the presence of her handmaid—supposed + to be potent in nursing and herb-lore—whom she had detached to wait + upon him, and he had returned politely formal acknowledgments to her + inquiries. He had determined to continue this personal avoidance as far as + possible until he was relieved, on the ground of that BUSINESS expediency + which these events had made necessary. She would see that he was only + accepting the arguments with which she had met his previous advances. + Briefly, he had recourse to that hopeless logic by which a man proves to + himself that he has no reason for loving a certain woman, and is as + incontestably convinced by the same process that he has. And in the midst + of it he weakly fell asleep, and dreamed that he and Miss Sally were + walking in the cemetery; that a hideous snake concealed among some lilies, + over which the young girl was bending, had uplifted its triangular head to + strike. That he seized it by the neck, struggled with it until he was + nearly exhausted, when it suddenly collapsed and shrunk, leaving in his + palm the limp, crushed, and delicately perfumed little thread glove which + he remembered to have once slipped from her hand. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke, that perfume seemed to be still in the air, distinct from + the fresh but homelier scents of the garden which stole through the + window. A sense of delicious coolness came with the afternoon breeze, that + faintly trilled the slanting slats of the blind with a slumberous humming + as of bees. The golden glory of a sinking southern sun was penciling the + cheap paper on the wall with leafy tracery and glowing arabesques. But + more than that, the calm of some potent influence—or some unseen + presence—was upon him, which he feared a movement might dispel. The + chair at the foot of his bed was empty. Sophy had gone out. He did not + turn his head to look further; his languid eyes falling aimlessly upon the + carpet at his bedside suddenly dilated. For they fell also on the + “smallest foot in the State.” + </p> + <p> + He started to his elbow, but a soft hand was laid gently yet firmly upon + his shoulder, and with a faint rustle of muslin skirts Miss Sally rose + from an unseen chair at the head of his bed, and stood beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Don't stir, co'nnle, I didn't sit where I could look in yo'r face for + fear of waking yo'. But I'll change seats now.” She moved to the chair + which Sophy had vacated, drew it slightly nearer the bed, and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “It was very kind of you—to come,” said Courtland hesitatingly, as + with a strong effort he drew his eyes away from the fascinating vision, + and regained a certain cold composure, “but I am afraid my illness has + been greatly magnified. I really am quite well enough to be up and about + my business, if the doctor would permit it. But I shall certainly manage + to attend to my duty to-morrow, and I hope to be at your service. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning that yo' don't care to see me NOW, co'nnle,” she said lightly, + with a faint twinkle in her wise, sweet eyes. “I thought of that, but as + my business wouldn't wait, I brought it to yo'.” She took from the folds + of her gown a letter. To his utter amazement it was the one he had given + his overseer to post to the commandant that morning. To his greater + indignation the seal was broken. + </p> + <p> + “Who has dared?” he demanded, half rising. + </p> + <p> + Her little hand was thrust out half deprecatingly. “No one yo' can fight, + co'nnle; only ME. I don't generally open other folks' letters, and I + wouldn't have done it for MYSELF; I did for yo'.” + </p> + <p> + “For me?” + </p> + <p> + “For yo'. I reckoned what yo' MIGHT do, and I told Sam to bring ME the + letters first. I didn't mind what yo' wrote to the company—for + they'll take care of yo', and their own eggs are all in the same basket. I + didn't open THAT one, but I did THIS when I saw the address. It was as I + expected, and yo' 'd given yo'self away! For if yo' had those soldiers + down here, yo' 'd have a row, sure! Don't move, co'nnle, YO' may not care + for that, it's in YO'R line. But folks will say that the soldiers weren't + sent to prevent RIOTING, but that Co'nnle Courtland was using his old + comrades to keep order on his property at Gov'ment expense. Hol' on! Hol' + on! co'nnle,” said the little figure, rising and waving its pretty arms + with a mischievous simulation of terrified deprecation. “Don't shoot! Of + course yo' didn't mean THAT, but that's about the way that So'th'n men + will put it to yo'r Gov'ment. For,” she continued, more gently, yet with + the shrewdest twinkle in her gray eyes, “if yo' really thought the niggers + might need Federal protection, yo' 'd have let ME write to the commandant + to send an escort—not to YO, but to CATO—that HE might be able + to come back in safety. Yo' 'd have had yo'r soldiers; I'd have had back + my nigger, which”—demurely—“yo' don't seem to worry yo'self + much about, co'nnle; and there isn't a So'th'n man would have objected. + But,” still more demurely, and affectedly smoothing out her crisp skirt + with her little hands, “yo' haven't been troubling me much with yo'r + counsel lately.” + </p> + <p> + A swift and utterly new comprehension swept over Courtland. For the first + time in his knowledge of her he suddenly grasped what was, perhaps, the + true conception of her character. Looking at her clearly now, he + understood the meaning of those pliant graces, so unaffected and yet + always controlled by the reasoning of an unbiased intellect; her frank + speech and plausible intonations! Before him stood the true-born daughter + of a long race of politicians! All that he had heard of their dexterity, + tact, and expediency rose here incarnate, with the added grace of + womanhood. A strange sense of relief—perhaps a dawning of hope—stole + over him. + </p> + <p> + “But how will this insure Cato's safety hereafter, or give protection to + the others?” he said, fixing his eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + “The future won't concern YO' much, co'nnle, if as yo' say here yo'r + resignation is sent in, and yo'r successor appointed,” she replied, with + more gravity than she had previously shown. + </p> + <p> + “But you do not think I will leave YOU in this uncertainty,” he said + passionately. He stopped suddenly, his brow darkened. “I forgot,” he added + coldly, “you will be well protected. Your—COUSIN—will give you + the counsel of race—and—closer ties.” + </p> + <p> + To his infinite astonishment, Miss Sally leaned forward in her chair and + buried her laughing face in both of her hands. When her dimples had become + again visible, she said with an effort, “Don't yo' think, co'nnle, that as + a peacemaker my cousin was even a bigger failure than yo'self?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand,” stammered Courtland. + </p> + <p> + “Don't yo' think,” she continued, wiping her eyes demurely, “that if a + young woman about my size, who had got perfectly tired and sick of all + this fuss made about yo', because yo' were a No'th'n man, managing niggers—if + that young woman wanted to show her people what sort of a radical and + abolitionist a SO'TH'N man of their own sort might become, she'd have sent + for Jack Dumont as a sample? Eh? Only, I declare to goodness, I never + reckoned that he and Higbee would revive the tomfooling of the vendetta, + and take to shootin' each other at once.” + </p> + <p> + “And your sending for your cousin was only a feint to protect me?” said + Courtland faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he didn't have to be SENT for, co'nnle,” she said, with a slight + touch of coquetry. “Suppose we say, I LET HIM COME. He'd be hanging round, + for he has property here, and wanted to get me to take it up with mine in + the company. I knew what his new views and ideas were, and I thought I'd + better consult Champney—who, being a foreigner, and an older + resident than yo', was quite neutral. He didn't happen to tell YO' + anything about it—did he, co'nnle?” she added with a grave mouth, + but an indescribable twinkle in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Courtland's face darkened. “He did—and he further told me, Miss + Dows, that he himself was your suitor, and that you had refused him + because of the objections of your people.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes to his swiftly and dropped them. + </p> + <p> + “And yo' think I ought to have accepted him?” she said slowly. + </p> + <p> + “No! but—you know—you told me”—he began hurriedly. But + she had already risen, and was shaking out the folds of her dress. + </p> + <p> + “We're not talking BUSINESS co'nnle—and business was my only excuse + for coming here, and taking Sophy's place. I'll send her in to yo', now.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Miss Dows!—Miss Sally!” + </p> + <p> + She stopped—hesitated—a singular weakness for so + self-contained a nature—and then slowly produced from her pocket a + second letter—the one that Courtland had directed to the company. “I + didn't read THIS letter, as I just told yo' co'nnle, for I reckon I know + what's in it, but I thought I'd bring it with me too, in case YO' CHANGED + YO'R MIND.” + </p> + <p> + He raised himself on his pillow as she turned quickly away; but in that + single vanishing glimpse of her bright face he saw what neither he nor any + one else had ever seen upon the face of Sally Dows—a burning blush! + </p> + <p> + “Miss Sally!” He almost leaped from the bed, but she was gone. There was + another rustle at the door—the entrance of Sophy. + </p> + <p> + “Call her back, Sophy, quick!” he said. + </p> + <p> + The negress shook her turbaned head. “Not much, honey! When Miss Sally say + she goes—she done gone, shuah!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Sophy!” Perhaps something in the significant face of the girl + tempted him; perhaps it was only an impulse of his forgotten youth. + “Sophy!” appealingly—“tell me!—is Miss Sally engaged to her + cousin?” + </p> + <p> + “Wat dat?” said Sophy in indignant scorn. “Miss Sally engaged to dat + Dumont! What fo'? Yo' 're crazy! No!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor Champney? Tell me, Sophy, has she a LOVER?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the whites of Sophy's eyes were uplifted in speechless scorn. + “Yo' ask dat! Yo' lyin' dar wid dat snake-bit arm! Yo' lyin' dar, and Miss + Sally—who has only to whistle to call de fust quality in de State + raoun her—coming and going here wid you, and trotting on yo'r + arrants—and yo' ask dat! Yes! she has a lover, and what's me', she + CAN'T HELP IT; and yo' 're her lover; and what's me', YO' can't help it + either! And yo' can't back out of it now—bo'fe of yo'—nebber! + Fo' yo' 're hers, and she's yo'rs—fo' ebber. For she sucked yo' + blood.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” gasped Courtland, aghast at what he believed to be the sudden + insanity of the negress. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Whar's yo'r eyes? whar's yo'r years? who's yo' dat yo' didn't see + nor heah nuffin? When dey dragged yo' outer de swamp dat night—wid + de snake-bite freshen yo'r arm—didn't SHE, dat poh chile!—dat + same Miss Sally—frow herself down on yo', and put dat baby mouf of + hers to de wound and suck out de pizen and sabe de life ob yo' at de risk + ob her own? Say? And if dey's any troof in Hoodoo, don't dat make yo' one + blood and one soul! Go way, white man! I'm sick of yo'. Stop dar! Lie down + dar! Hol' on, co'nnle, for massy's sake. Well, dar—I'll call her + back!” + </p> + <p> + And she did! + </p> + <p> + “Look here—don't you know—it rather took me by surprise,” said + Champney, a few days later, with a hearty grip of the colonel's uninjured + hand; “but I don't bear malice, old fellow, and, by Jove! it was SUCH a + sensible, all-round, business-like choice for the girl to make that no + wonder we never thought of it before. Hang it all, you see a fellow was + always so certain it would be something out of the way and detrimental, + don't you know, that would take the fancy of a girl like that—somebody + like that cousin of hers or Higbee, or even ME, by Jove that we never + thought of looking beyond our noses—never thought of the BUSINESS! + And YOU all the time so cold and silent and matter-of-fact about it! But I + congratulate you! You've got the business down on a safe basis now, and + what's more, you've got the one woman who can run it.” + </p> + <p> + They say he was a true prophet. At least the Syndicate affairs prospered, + and in course of time even the Reeds and the Higbees participated in the + benefits. There were no more racial disturbances; only the districts + polled a peaceful and SMALLER Democratic majority at the next election. + There were not wanting those who alleged that Colonel Courtland had simply + become MRS. COURTLAND'S SUPERINTENDENT; that she had absorbed him as she + had every one who had come under her influence, and that she would not + rest until she had made him a Senator (to represent Mrs. Courtland) in the + councils of the nation. But when I last dined with them in Washington, ten + years ago, I found them both very happy and comfortable, and I remember + that Mrs. Courtland's remarks upon Federal and State interests, the proper + education of young girls, and the management of the family, were eminently + wise and practical. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CONSPIRACY OF MRS. BUNKER. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I. + </h2> + <p> + On the northerly shore of San Francisco Bay a line of bluffs terminates in + a promontory, at whose base, formed by the crumbling debris of the cliff + above, there is a narrow stretch of beach, salt meadow, and scrub oak. The + abrupt wall of rock behind it seems to isolate it as completely from the + mainland as the sea before it separates it from the opposite shore. In + spite of its contiguity to San Francisco,—opposite also, but hidden + by the sharp re-entering curve of coast,—the locality was wild, + uncultivated, and unfrequented. A solitary fisherman's cabin half hidden + in the rocks was the only trace of habitation. White drifts of sea-gulls + and pelican across the face of the cliff, gray clouds of sandpipers rising + from the beach, the dripping flight of ducks over the salt meadows, and + the occasional splash of a seal from the rocks, were the only signs of + life that could be seen from the decks of passing ships. And yet the + fisherman's cabin was occupied by Zephas Bunker and his young wife, and he + had succeeded in wresting from the hard soil pasturage for a cow and + goats, while his lateen-sailed fishing-boat occasionally rode quietly in + the sheltered cove below. + </p> + <p> + Three years ago Zephas Bunker, an ex-whaler, had found himself stranded on + a San Francisco wharf and had “hired out” to a small Petaluma farmer. At + the end of a year he had acquired little taste for the farmer's business, + but considerable for the farmer's youthful daughter, who, equally weary of + small agriculture, had consented to elope with him in order to escape it. + They were married at Oakland; he put his scant earnings into a + fishing-boat, discovered the site for his cabin, and brought his bride + thither. The novelty of the change pleased her, although perhaps it was + but little advance on her previous humble position. Yet she preferred her + present freedom to the bare restricted home life of her past; the + perpetual presence of the restless sea was a relief to the old monotony of + the wheat field and its isolated drudgery. For Mary's youthful fancy, + thinly sustained in childhood by the lightest literary food, had neither + been stimulated nor disillusioned by her marriage. That practical + experience which is usually the end of girlish romance had left her still + a child in sentiment. The long absences of her husband in his fishing-boat + kept her from wearying of or even knowing his older and unequal + companionship; it gave her a freedom her girlhood had never known, yet + added a protection that suited her still childish dependency, while it + tickled her pride with its equality. When not engaged in her easy + household duties in her three-roomed cottage, or the care of her rocky + garden patch, she found time enough to indulge her fancy over the + mysterious haze that wrapped the invisible city so near and yet unknown to + her; in the sails that slipped in and out of the Golden Gate, but of whose + destination she knew nothing; and in the long smoke trail of the mail + steamer which had yet brought her no message. Like all dwellers by the + sea, her face and her thoughts were more frequently turned towards it; and + as with them, it also seemed to her that whatever change was coming into + her life would come across that vast unknown expanse. But it was here that + Mrs. Bunker was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + It had been a sparkling summer morning. The waves were running before the + dry northwest trade winds with crystalline but colorless brilliancy. + Sheltered by the high, northerly bluff, the house and its garden were + exposed to the untempered heat of the cloudless sun refracted from the + rocky wall behind it. Some tarpaulin and ropes lying among the rocks were + sticky and odorous; the scrub oaks and manzanita bushes gave out the aroma + of baking wood; occasionally a faint pot-pourri fragrance from the hot + wild roses and beach grass was blown along the shore; even the lingering + odors of Bunker's vocation, and of Mrs. Bunker's cooking, were idealized + and refined by the saline breath of the sea at the doors and windows. Mrs. + Bunker, in the dazzling sun, bending over her peas and lettuces with a + small hoe, felt the comfort of her brown holland sunbonnet. Secure in her + isolation, she unbuttoned the neck of her gown for air, and did not put up + the strand of black hair that had escaped over her shoulder. It was very + hot in the lee of the bluff, and very quiet in that still air. So quiet + that she heard two distinct reports, following each other quickly, but + very faint and far. She glanced mechanically towards the sea. Two + merchant-men in midstream were shaking out their wings for a long flight, + a pilot boat and coasting schooner were rounding the point, but there was + no smoke from their decks. She bent over her work again, and in another + moment had forgotten it. But the heat, with the dazzling reflection from + the cliff, forced her to suspend her gardening, and stroll along the beach + to the extreme limit of her domain. Here she looked after the cow that had + also strayed away through the tangled bush for coolness. The goats, + impervious to temperature, were basking in inaccessible fastnesses on the + cliff itself that made her eyes ache to climb. Over an hour passed, she + was returning, and had neared her house, when she was suddenly startled to + see the figure of a man between her and the cliff. He was engaged in + brushing his dusty clothes with a handkerchief, and although he saw her + coming, and even moved slowly towards her, continued his occupation with a + half-impatient, half-abstracted air. Her feminine perception was struck + with the circumstance that he was in deep black, with scarcely a gleam of + white showing even at his throat, and that he wore a tall black hat. + Without knowing anything of social customs, it seemed to her that his + dress was inconsistent with his appearance there. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” he said, lifting his hat with a preoccupied air. “Do you + live here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody else?” + </p> + <p> + “My husband.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean any other people? Are there any other houses?” he said with a + slight impatience. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her and then towards the sea. “I expect some friends who are + coming for me in a boat. I suppose they can land easily here?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you yourself land here just now?” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + He half hesitated, and then, as if scorning an equivocation, made a hasty + gesture over her shoulder and said bluntly, “No, I came over the cliff.” + </p> + <p> + “Down the cliff?” she repeated incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, glancing at his clothes; “it was a rough scramble, but the + goats showed me the way.” + </p> + <p> + “And you were up on the bluff all the time?” she went on curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You see—I”—he stopped suddenly at what seemed to be the + beginning of a prearranged and plausible explanation, as if impatient of + its weakness or hypocrisy, and said briefly, “Yes, I was there.” + </p> + <p> + Like most women, more observant of his face and figure, she did not miss + this lack of explanation. He was a very good-looking man of middle age, + with a thin, proud, high-bred face, which in a country of bearded men had + the further distinction of being smoothly shaven. She had never seen any + one like him before. She thought he looked like an illustration of some + novel she had read, but also somewhat melancholy, worn, and tired. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come in and rest yourself?” she said, motioning to the cabin. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said, still half absently. “Perhaps I'd better. It may be + some time yet before they come.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way to the cabin, entered the living room—a plainly + furnished little apartment between the bedroom and the kitchen—pointed + to a large bamboo armchair, and placed a bottle of whiskey and some water + on the table before him. He thanked her again very gently, poured out some + spirits in his glass, and mixed it with water. But when she glanced + towards him again he had apparently risen without tasting it, and going to + the door was standing there with his hand in the breast of his buttoned + frock coat, gazing silently towards the sea. There was something vaguely + historical in his attitude—or what she thought might be historical—as + of somebody of great importance who had halted on the eve of some great + event at the door of her humble cabin. + </p> + <p> + His apparent unconsciousness of her and of his surroundings, his + preoccupation with something far beyond her ken, far from piquing her, + only excited her interest the more. And then there was such an odd sadness + in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Are you anxious for your folks' coming?” she said at last, following his + outlook. + </p> + <p> + “I—oh no!” he returned, quickly recalling himself, “they'll be sure + to come—sooner or later. No fear of that,” he added, half smilingly, + half wearily. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bunker passed into the kitchen, where, while apparently attending to + her household duties, she could still observe her singular guest. Left + alone, he seated himself mechanically in the chair, and gazed fixedly at + the fireplace. He remained a long time so quiet and unmoved, in spite of + the marked ostentatious clatter Mrs. Bunker found it necessary to make + with her dishes, that an odd fancy that he was scarcely a human visitant + began to take possession of her. Yet she was not frightened. She + remembered distinctly afterwards that, far from having any concern for + herself, she was only moved by a strange and vague admiration of him. + </p> + <p> + But her prolonged scrutiny was not without effect. Suddenly he raised his + dark eyes, and she felt them pierce the obscurity of her kitchen with a + quick, suspicious, impatient penetration, which as they met hers gave way, + however, to a look that she thought was gently reproachful. Then he rose, + stretched himself to his full height, and approaching the kitchen door + leaned listlessly against the door-post. + </p> + <p> + “I don't suppose you are ever lonely here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. You have yourself and husband. Nobody interferes with you. + You are contented and happy together.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bunker did not say, what was the fact, that she had never before + connected the sole companionship of her husband with her happiness. + Perhaps it had never occurred to her until that moment how little it had + to do with it. She only smiled gratefully at the change in her guest's + abstraction. + </p> + <p> + “Do you often go to San Francisco?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “I have never been there at all. Some day I expect we will go there to + live.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't advise you to,” he said, looking at her gravely. “I don't + think it will pay you. You'll never be happy there as here. You'll never + have the independence and freedom you have here. You'll never be your own + mistress again. But how does it happen you never were in San Francisco?” + he said suddenly. + </p> + <p> + If he would not talk of himself, here at least was a chance for Mrs. + Bunker to say something. She related how her family had emigrated from + Kansas across the plains and had taken up a “location” at Contra Costa. + How she didn't care for it, and how she came to marry the seafaring man + who brought her here—all with great simplicity and frankness and as + unreservedly as to a superior being—albeit his attention wandered at + times, and a rare but melancholy smile that he had apparently evoked to + meet her conversational advances became fixed occasionally. Even his dark + eyes, which had obliged Mrs. Bunker to put up her hair and button her + collar, rested upon her without seeing her. + </p> + <p> + “Then your husband's name is Bunker?” he said when she paused at last. + “That's one of those Nantucket Quaker names—sailors and whalers for + generations—and yours, you say, was MacEwan. Well, Mrs. Bunker, YOUR + family came from Kentucky to Kansas only lately, though I suppose your + father calls himself a Free-States man. You ought to know something of + farming and cattle, for your ancestors were old Scotch Covenanters who + emigrated a hundred years ago, and were great stock raisers.” + </p> + <p> + All this seemed only the natural omniscience of a superior being. And Mrs. + Bunker perhaps was not pained to learn that her husband's family was of a + lower degree than her own. But the stranger's knowledge did not end there. + He talked of her husband's business—he explained the vast fishing + resources of the bay and coast. He showed her how the large colony of + Italian fishermen were inimical to the interests of California and to her + husband—particularly as a native American trader. He told her of the + volcanic changes of the bay and coast line, of the formation of the rocky + ledge on which she lived. He pointed out to her its value to the + Government for defensive purposes, and how it naturally commanded the + entrance of the Golden Gate far better than Fort Point, and that it ought + to be in its hands. If the Federal Government did not buy it of her + husband, certainly the State of California should. And here he fell into + an abstraction as deep and as gloomy as before. He walked to the window, + paced the floor with his hand in his breast, went to the door, and finally + stepped out of the cabin, moving along the ledge of rocks to the shore, + where he stood motionless. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bunker had listened to him with parted lips and eyes of eloquent + admiration. She had never before heard anyone talk like THAT—she had + not believed it possible that any one could have such knowledge. Perhaps + she could not understand all he said, but she would try to remember it + after he had gone. She could only think now how kind it was of him that in + all this mystery of his coming, and in the singular sadness that was + oppressing him, he should try to interest her. And thus looking at him, + and wondering, an idea came to her. + </p> + <p> + She went into her bedroom and took down her husband's heavy pilot overcoat + and sou'wester, and handed them to her guest. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better put them on if you're going to stand there,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “But I am not cold,” he said wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “But you might be SEEN,” she said simply. It was the first suggestion that + had passed between them that his presence there was a secret. He looked at + her intently, then he smiled and said, “I think you're right, for many + reasons,” put the pilot coat over his frock coat, removed his hat with the + gesture of a bow, handed it to her, and placed the sou'wester in its + stead. Then for an instant he hesitated as if about to speak, but Mrs. + Bunker, with a delicacy that she could not herself comprehend at the + moment, hurried back to the cabin without giving him an opportunity. + </p> + <p> + Nor did she again intrude upon his meditations. Hidden in his disguise, + which to her eyes did not, however, seem to conceal his characteristic + figure, he wandered for nearly an hour under the bluff and along the + shore, returning at last almost mechanically to the cabin, where, + oblivious of his surroundings, he reseated himself in silence by the table + with his cheek resting on his hand. Presently, her quick, experienced ear + detected the sound of oars in their row-locks; she could plainly see from + her kitchen window a small boat with two strangers seated at the stern + being pulled to the shore. With the same strange instinct of delicacy, she + determined not to go out lest her presence might embarrass her guest's + reception of his friends. But as she turned towards the living room she + found he had already risen and was removing his hat and pilot coat. She + was struck, however, by the circumstance that not only did he exhibit no + feeling of relief at his deliverance, but that a half-cynical, half-savage + expression had taken the place of his former melancholy. As he went to the + door, the two gentlemen hastily clambered up the rocks to greet him. + </p> + <p> + “Jim reckoned it was you hangin' round the rocks, but I couldn't tell at + that distance. Seemed you borrowed a hat and coat. Well—it's all + fixed, and we've no time to lose. There's a coasting steamer just dropping + down below the Heads, and it will take you aboard. But I can tell you + you've kicked up a h-ll of a row over there.” He stopped, evidently at + some sign from her guest. The rest of the man's speech followed in a + hurried whisper, which was stopped again by the voice she knew. “No. + Certainly not.” The next moment his tall figure was darkening the door of + the kitchen; his hand was outstretched. “Good-by, Mrs. Bunker, and many + thanks for your hospitality. My friends here,” he turned grimly to the men + behind him, “think I ought to ask you to keep this a secret even from your + husband. I DON'T! They also think that I ought to offer you money for your + kindness. I DON'T! But if you will honor me by keeping this ring in + remembrance of it”—he took a heavy seal ring from his finger—“it's + the only bit of jewelry I have about me—I'll be very glad. Good-by!” + She felt for a moment the firm, soft pressure of his long, thin fingers + around her own, and then—he was gone. The sound of retreating oars + grew fainter and fainter and was lost. The same reserve of delicacy which + now appeared to her as a duty kept her from going to the window to watch + the destination of the boat. No, he should go as he came, without her + supervision or knowledge. + </p> + <p> + Nor did she feel lonely afterwards. On the contrary, the silence and + solitude of the isolated domain had a new charm. They kept the memory of + her experience intact, and enabled her to refill it with his presence. She + could see his tall figure again pausing before her cabin, without the + incongruous association of another personality; she could hear his voice + again, unmingled with one more familiar. For the first time, the regular + absence of her husband seemed an essential good fortune instead of an + accident of their life. For the experience belonged to HER, and not to him + and her together. He could not understand it; he would have acted + differently and spoiled it. She should not tell him anything of it, in + spite of the stranger's suggestion, which, of course, he had only made + because he didn't know Zephas as well as she did. For Mrs. Bunker was + getting on rapidly; it was her first admission of the conjugal knowledge + that one's husband is inferior to the outside estimate of him. The next + step—the belief that he was deceiving HER as he was THEM—would + be comparatively easy. + </p> + <p> + Nor should she show him the ring. The stranger had certainly never said + anything about that! It was a heavy ring, with a helmeted head carved on + its red carnelian stone, and what looked like strange letters around it. + It fitted her third finger perfectly; but HIS fingers were small, and he + had taken it from his little finger. She should keep it herself. Of + course, if it had been money, she would have given it to Zephas; but the + stranger knew that she wouldn't take money. How firmly he had said that “I + don't!” She felt the warm blood fly to her fresh young face at the thought + of it. He had understood her. She might be living in a poor cabin, doing + all the housework herself, and her husband only a fisherman, but he had + treated her like a lady. + </p> + <p> + And so the afternoon passed. The outlying fog began to roll in at the + Golden Gate, obliterating the headland and stretching a fleecy bar across + the channel as if shutting out from vulgar eyes the way that he had gone. + Night fell, but Zephas had not yet come. This was unusual, for he was + generally as regular as the afternoon “trades” which blew him there. There + was nothing to detain him in this weather and at this season. She began to + be vaguely uneasy; then a little angry at this new development of his + incompatibility. Then it occurred to her, for the first time in her + wifehood, to think what she would do if he were lost. Yet, in spite of + some pain, terror, and perplexity at the possibility, her dominant thought + was that she would be a free woman to order her life as she liked. + </p> + <p> + It was after ten before his lateen sail flapped in the little cove. She + was waiting to receive him on the shore. His good-humored hirsute face was + slightly apologetic in expression, but flushed and disturbed with some new + excitement to which an extra glass or two of spirits had apparently added + intensity. The contrast between his evident indulgence and the previous + abstemiousness of her late guest struck her unpleasantly. “Well—I + declare,” she said indignantly, “so THAT'S what kept you!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said quickly; “there's been awful times over in 'Frisco! + Everybody just wild, and the Vigilance Committee in session. Jo + Henderson's killed! Shot by Wynyard Marion in a duel! He'll be lynched, + sure as a gun, if they ketch him.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought men who fought duels always went free.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but this ain't no common duel; they say the whole thing was planned + beforehand by them Southern fire-eaters to get rid o' Henderson because + he's a Northern man and anti-slavery, and that they picked out Colonel + Marion to do it because he was a dead shot. They got him to insult + Henderson, so he was bound to challenge Marion, and that giv' Marion the + chyce of weppings. It was a reg'lar put up job to kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “And what's all this to do with you?” she asked, with irritation. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, won't you! and I'll tell you. I was pickin' up nets off + Saucelito about noon, when I was hailed by one of them Vigilance tugs, and + they set me to stand off and on the shore and watch that Marion didn't get + away, while they were scoutin' inland. Ye see THE DUEL TOOK PLACE JUST + OVER THE BLUFF THERE—BEHIND YE—and they allowed that Marion + had struck away north for Mendocino to take ship there. For after + overhaulin' his second's boat, they found out that they had come away from + Saucelito ALONE. But they sent a tug around by sea to Mendocino to head + him off there, while they're closin' in around him inland. They're bound + to catch him sooner or later. But you ain't listenin', Mollie?” + </p> + <p> + She was—in every fibre—but with her head turned towards the + window, and the invisible Golden Gate through which the fugitive had + escaped. For she saw it all now—that glorious vision—her + high-bred, handsome guest and Wynyard Marion were one and the same person. + And this rough, commonplace man before her—her own husband—had + been basely set to capture him! + </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> + During that evening and the next Mrs. Bunker, without betraying her + secret, or exciting the least suspicion on the part of her husband, + managed to extract from him not only a rough description of Marion which + tallied with her own impressions, but a short history of his career. He + was a famous politician who had held high office in the South; he was an + accomplished lawyer; he had served in the army; he was a fiery speaker; he + had a singular command of men. He was unmarried, but there were queer + stories of his relations with some of the wives of prominent officials, + and there was no doubt that he used them in some of his political + intrigues. He, Zephas, would bet something that it was a woman who had + helped him off! Did she speak? + </p> + <p> + Yes, she had spoken. It made her sick to sit there and hear such stories! + Because a man did not agree with some people in politics it was perfectly + awful to think how they would abuse him and take away his character! Men + were so awfully jealous, too; if another man happened to be superior and + fine-looking there wasn't anything bad enough for them to say about him! + No! she wasn't a slavery sympathizer either, and hadn't anything to do + with man politics, although she was a Southern woman, and the MacEwans had + come from Kentucky and owned slaves. Of course, he, Zephas, whose + ancestors were Cape Cod Quakers and had always been sailors, couldn't + understand. She did not know what he meant by saying “what a long tail our + cat's got,” but if he meant to call her a cat, and was going to use such + language to her, he had better have stayed in San Francisco with his + Vigilance friends. And perhaps it would have been better if he had stayed + there before he took her away from her parents at Martinez. Then she + wouldn't have been left on a desert rock without any chance of seeing the + world, or ever making any friends or acquaintances! + </p> + <p> + It was their first quarrel. Discreetly made up by Mrs. Bunker in some + alarm at betraying herself; honestly forgiven by Zephas in a rude, + remorseful consciousness of her limited life. One or two nights later, + when he returned, it was with a mingled air of mystery and satisfaction. + “Well, Mollie,” he said cheerfully, “it looks as if your pets were not as + bad as I thought them.” + </p> + <p> + “My pets!” repeated Mrs. Bunker, with a faint rising of color. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I call these Southern Chivs your pets, Mollie, because you stuck up + for them so the other night. But never mind that now. What do you suppose + has happened? Jim Rider, you know, the Southern banker and speculator, + who's a regular big Injin among the 'Chivs,' he sent Cap Simmons down to + the wharf while I was unloadin' to come up and see him. Well, I went, and + what do y'u think? He told me he was gettin' up an American Fishin' + Company, and wanted me to take charge of a first-class schooner on shares. + Said he heard of me afore, and knew I was an American and a white man, and + just the chap ez could knock them Eytalians outer the market.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” interrupted Mrs. Bunker quickly, but emphatically, “the fishing + interest ought to be American and protected by the State, with regular + charters and treaties.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mollie,” said her astonished but admiring husband, “you've been + readin' the papers or listenin' to stump speakin' sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” returned Mrs. Bunker impatiently, “and say what happened next.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” returned Zephas, “I first thought, you see, that it had suthin' to + do with that Marion business, particklerly ez folks allowed he was hidin' + somewhere yet, and they wanted me to run him off. So I thought Rider might + as well know that I wasn't to be bribed, so I ups and tells him how I'd + been lyin' off Saucelito the other day workin' for the other side agin + him. With that he laughs, says he didn't want any better friends than me, + but that I must be livin' in the backwoods not to know that Wynyard Marion + had escaped, and was then at sea on his way to Mexico or Central America. + Then we agreed to terms, and the long and short of it is, Mollie, that I'm + to have the schooner with a hundred and fifty dollars a month, and ten per + cent. shares after a year! Looks like biz, eh, Mollie, old girl? but you + don't seem pleased.” + </p> + <p> + She had put aside the arm with which he was drawing her to him, and had + turned her white face away to the window. So HE had gone—this + stranger—this one friend of her life—she would never see him + again, and all that would ever come of it was this pecuniary benefit to + her husband, who had done nothing. He would not even offer her money, but + he had managed to pay his debt to her in this way that their vulgar + poverty would appreciate. And this was the end of her dream! + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem to take it in, Mollie,” continued the surprised Zephas. + “It means a house in 'Frisco and a little cabin for you on the schooner + when you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want it! I won't have it! I shall stay here,” she burst out with + a half-passionate, half-childish cry, and ran into her bedroom, leaving + the astonished Zephas helpless in his awkward consternation. + </p> + <p> + “By Gum! I must take her to 'Frisco right off, or she'll be havin' the + high strikes here alone. I oughter knowed it would come to this!” But + although he consulted “Cap” Simmons the next day, who informed him it was + all woman's ways when “struck,” and advised him to pay out all the line he + could at such delicate moments, she had no recurrence of the outbreak. On + the contrary, for days and weeks following she seemed calmer, older, and + more “growed up;” although she resisted changing her seashore dwelling for + San Francisco, she accompanied him on one or two of his “deep sea” trips + down the coast, and seemed happier on their southern limits. She had taken + to reading the political papers and speeches, and some cheap American + histories. Captain Bunker's crew, profoundly convinced that their + skipper's wife was a “woman's rights” fanatic, with the baleful qualities + of “sea lawyer” superadded, marveled at his bringing her. + </p> + <p> + It was on returning home from one of these trips that they touched briefly + at San Francisco, where the Secretary of the Fishing Company came on + board. Mrs. Bunker was startled to recognize in him one of the two + gentlemen who had taken Mr. Marion off in the boat, but as he did not + appear to recognize her even after an awkward introduction by her husband, + she would have recovered her equanimity but for a singular incident. As + her husband turned momentarily away, the Secretary, with a significant + gesture, slipped a letter into her hand. She felt the blood rush to her + face as, with a smile, he moved away to follow her husband. She came down + to the little cabin and impatiently tore open the envelope, which bore no + address. A small folded note contained the following lines:— + </p> + <p> + “I never intended to burden you with my confidence, but the discretion, + tact, and courage you displayed on our first meeting, and what I know of + your loyalty since, have prompted me to trust myself again to your + kindness, even though you are now aware whom you have helped, and the + risks you ran. My friends wish to communicate with me and to forward to + me, from time to time, certain papers of importance, which, owing to the + tyrannical espionage of the Government, would be discovered and stopped in + passing through the express or post-office. These papers will be left at + your house, but here I must trust entirely to your wit and judgment as to + the way in which they should be delivered to my agent at the nearest + Mexican port. To facilitate your action, your husband will receive + directions to pursue his course as far south as Todos Santos, where a boat + will be ready to take charge of them when he is sighted. I know I am + asking a great favor, but I have such confidence in you that I do not even + ask you to commit yourself to a reply to this. If it can be done I know + that you will do it; if it cannot, I will understand and appreciate the + reason why. I will only ask you that when you are ready to receive the + papers you will fly a small red pennant from the little flagstaff among + the rocks. Believe me, your friend and grateful debtor, + </p> + <p> + “W. M.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bunker cast a hasty glance around her, and pressed the letter to her + lips. It was a sudden consummation of her vaguest, half-formed wishes, the + realization of her wildest dreams! To be the confidante of the gallant but + melancholy hero in his lonely exile and persecution was to satisfy all the + unformulated romantic fancies of her girlish reading; to be later, + perhaps, the Flora Macdonald of a middle-aged Prince Charlie did not, + however, evoke any ludicrous associations in her mind. Her feminine fancy + exalted the escaped duelist and alleged assassin into a social martyr. His + actual small political intrigues and ignoble aims of office seemed to her + little different from those aspirations of royalty which she had read + about—as perhaps they were. Indeed, it is to be feared that in + foolish little Mrs. Bunker, Wynyard Marion had found the old feminine + adoration of pretension and privilege which every rascal has taken + advantage of since the flood. + </p> + <p> + Howbeit, the next morning after she had returned and Zephas had sailed + away, she flew a red bandana handkerchief on the little flagstaff before + the house. A few hours later, a boat appeared mysteriously from around the + Point. Its only occupant—a common sailor—asked her name, and + handed her a sealed package. Mrs. Bunker's invention had already been at + work. She had created an aunt in Mexico, for whom she had, with some + ostentation, made some small purchases while in San Francisco. When her + husband spoke of going as far south as Todos Santos, she begged him to + deliver the parcel to her aunt's messenger, and even addressed it boldly + to her. Inside the outer wrapper she wrote a note to Marion, which, with a + new and amazing diffidence, she composed and altered a dozen times, at + last addressing the following in a large, school-girl hand: “Sir, I obey + your commands to the last. Whatever your oppressors or enemies may do, you + can always rely and trust upon She who in deepest sympathy signs herself + ever, Mollie Rosalie MacEwan.” The substitution of her maiden name in full + seemed in her simplicity to be a delicate exclusion of her husband from + the affair, and a certain disguise of herself to alien eyes. The + superscription, “To Mrs. Marion MacEwan from Mollie Bunker, to be called + for by hand at Todos Santos,” also struck her as a marvel of ingenuity. + The package was safely and punctually delivered by Zephas, who brought + back a small packet directed to her, which on private examination proved + to contain a letter addressed to “J. E. Kirby, to be called for,” with the + hurried line: “A thousand thanks, W. M.” Mrs. Bunker drew a long, quick + breath. He might have written more; he might have—but the wish + remained still unformulated. The next day she ran up a signal; the same + boat and solitary rower appeared around the Point, and took the package. A + week later, when her husband was ready for sea, she again hoisted her + signal. It brought a return package for Mexico, which she inclosed and + readdressed, and gave to her husband. The recurrence of this incident + apparently struck a bright idea from the simple Zephas. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mollie, why don't you come YOURSELF and see your aunt. I can't + go into port without a license, and them port charges cost a heap o' red + tape, for they've got a Filibuster scare on down there just now, but you + can go ashore in the boat and I'll get permission from the Secretary to + stand off and wait for you there for twenty-four hours.” Mrs. Bunker + flushed and paled at the thought. She could see him! The letter would be + sufficient excuse, the distrust suggested by her husband would give color + to her delivering it in person. There was perhaps a brief twinge of + conscience in taking this advantage of Zephas' kindness, but the next + moment, with that peculiar logic known only to the sex, she made the + unfortunate man's suggestion a condonation of her deceit. SHE hadn't asked + to go; HE had offered to take her. He had only himself to thank. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the political excitement in which she had become a partisan + without understanding or even conviction, presently culminated with the + Presidential campaign and the election of Abraham Lincoln. The intrigues + of Southern statesmen were revealed in open expression, and echoed in + California by those citizens of Southern birth and extraction who had + long, held place, power, and opinion there. There were rumors of + secession, of California joining the South, or of her founding an + independent Pacific Empire. A note from “J. E. Kirby” informed Mrs. Bunker + that she was to carefully retain any correspondence that might be in her + hands until further orders, almost at the same time that Zephas as + regretfully told her that his projected Southern trip had been suspended. + Mrs. Bunker was disappointed, and yet, in some singular conditions of her + feelings, felt relieved that her meeting with Marion was postponed. It is + to be feared that some dim conviction, unworthy a partisan, that in the + magnitude of political events her own petty personality might be + overlooked by her hero tended somewhat to her resignation. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the seasons had changed. The winter rains had set in; the trade + winds had shifted to the southeast, and the cottage, although + strengthened, enlarged, and made more comfortable through the good + fortunes of the Bunkers, was no longer sheltered by the cliff, but was + exposed to the full strength of the Pacific gales. There were long nights + when she could hear the rain fall monotonously on the shingles, or startle + her with a short, sharp reveille en the windows; there were brief days of + flying clouds and drifting sunshine, and intervals of dull gray shadow, + when the heaving white breakers beyond the Gate slowly lifted themselves + and sank before her like wraiths of warning. At such times, in her + accepted solitude, Mrs. Bunker gave herself up to strange moods and + singular visions; the more audacious and more striking it seemed to her + from their very remoteness, and the difficulty she was beginning to have + in materializing them. The actual personality of Wynyard Marion, as she + knew it in her one interview, had become very shadowy and faint in the + months that passed, yet when the days were heavy she sometimes saw herself + standing by his side in some vague tropical surroundings, and hailed by + the multitude as the faithful wife and consort of the great Leader, + President, Emperor—she knew not what! Exactly how this was to be + managed, and the manner of Zephas' effacement from the scene, never + troubled her childish fancy, and, it is but fair to say, her woman's + conscience. In the logic before alluded to, it seemed to her that all + ethical responsibility for her actions rested with the husband who had + unduly married her. Nor were those visions always roseate. In the wild + declamation of that exciting epoch which filled the newspapers there was + talk of short shrift with traitors. So there were days when the sudden + onset of a squall of hail against her window caused her to start as if she + had heard the sharp fusillade of that file of muskets of which she had + sometimes read in history. + </p> + <p> + One day she had a singular fright. She had heard the sound of oars falling + with a precision and regularity unknown to her. She was startled to see + the approach of a large eight-oared barge rowed by men in uniform, with + two officers wrapped in cloaks in the stern sheets, and before them the + glitter of musket barrels. The two officers appeared to be conversing + earnestly, and occasionally pointing to the shore and the bluff above. For + an instant she trembled, and then an instinct of revolt and resistance + followed. She hurriedly removed the ring, which she usually wore when + alone, from her finger, slipped it with the packet under the mattress of + her bed, and prepared with blazing eyes to face the intruders. But when + the boat was beached, the two officers, with scarcely a glance towards the + cottage, proceeded leisurely along the shore. Relieved, yet it must be + confessed a little piqued at their indifference, she snatched up her hat + and sallied forth to confront them. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you don't know that this is private property?” she said + sharply. + </p> + <p> + The group halted and turned towards her. The orderly, who was following, + turned his face aside and smiled. The younger officer demurely lifted his + cap. The elder, gray, handsome, in a general's uniform, after a moment's + half-astounded, half-amused scrutiny of the little figure, gravely raised + his gauntleted fingers in a military salute. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, madam, but I am afraid we never even thought of that. + We are making a preliminary survey for the Government with a possible view + of fortifying the bluff. It is very doubtful if you will be disturbed in + any rights you may have, but if you are, the Government will not fail to + make it good to you.” He turned carelessly to the aide beside him. “I + suppose the bluff is quite inaccessible from here?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that, general. They say that Marion, after he killed + Henderson, escaped down this way,” said the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, what good was that? How did he get away from here?” + </p> + <p> + “They say that Mrs. Fairfax was hanging round in a boat, waiting for him. + The story of the escape is all out now.” + </p> + <p> + They moved away with a slight perfunctory bow to Mrs. Bunker, only the + younger officer noting that the pert, pretty little Western woman wasn't + as sharp and snappy to his superior as she had at first promised to be. + </p> + <p> + She turned back to the cottage astounded, angry, and vaguely alarmed. Who + was this Mrs. Fairfax who had usurped her fame and solitary devotion? + There was no woman in the boat that took him off; it was equally well + known that he went in the ship alone. If they had heard that some woman + was with him here—why should they have supposed it was Mrs. Fairfax? + Zephas might know something—but he was away. The thought haunted her + that day and the next. On the third came a more startling incident. + </p> + <p> + She had been wandering along the edge of her domain in a state of + restlessness which had driven her from the monotony of the house when she + heard the barking of the big Newfoundland dog which Zephas had lately + bought for protection and company. She looked up and saw the boat and its + solitary rower at the landing. She ran quickly to the house to bring the + packet. As she entered she started back in amazement. For the sitting-room + was already in possession of a woman who was seated calmly by the table. + </p> + <p> + The stranger turned on Mrs. Bunker that frankly insolent glance and + deliberate examination which only one woman can give another. In that + glance Mrs. Bunker felt herself in the presence of a superior, even if her + own eyes had not told her that in beauty, attire, and bearing the intruder + was of a type and condition far beyond her own, or even that of any she + had known. It was the more crushing that there also seemed to be in this + haughty woman the same incongruousness and sharp contrast to the plain and + homely surroundings of the cottage that she remembered in HIM. + </p> + <p> + “Yo' aw Mrs. Bunker, I believe,” she said in languid Southern accents. + “How de doh?” + </p> + <p> + “I am Mrs. Bunker,” said Mrs. Bunker shortly. + </p> + <p> + “And so this is where Cunnle Marion stopped when he waited fo' the boat to + take him off,” said the stranger, glancing lazily around, and delaying + with smiling insolence the explanation she knew Mrs. Bunker was expecting. + “The cunnle said it was a pooh enough place, but I don't see it. I reckon, + however, he was too worried to judge and glad enough to get off. Yo' ought + to have made him talk—he generally don't want much prompting to talk + to women, if they're pooty.” + </p> + <p> + “He didn't seem in a hurry to go,” said Mrs. Bunker indignantly. The next + moment she saw her error, even before the cruel, handsome smile of her + unbidden guest revealed it. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” she said lazily; “this IS the place and here's where the + cunnle stayed. Only yo' oughtn't have given him and yo'self away to the + first stranger quite so easy. The cunnle might have taught yo' THAT the + two or three hours he was with yo'.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want with me?” demanded Mrs. Bunker angrily. + </p> + <p> + “I want a letter yo' have for me from Cunnle Marion.” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing for you,” said Mrs. Bunker. “I don't know who you are.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to, considering you've been acting as messenger between the + cunnle and me,” said the lady coolly. + </p> + <p> + “That's not true,” said Mrs. Bunker hotly, to combat an inward sinking. + </p> + <p> + The lady rose with a lazy, languid grace, walked to the door and called + still lazily, “O Pedro!” + </p> + <p> + The solitary rower clambered up the rocks and appeared on the cottage + threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the lady who gave you the letters for me and to whom you took + mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Si, senora.” + </p> + <p> + “They were addressed to a Mr. Kirby,” said Mrs. Bunker sullenly. “How was + I to know they were for Mrs. Kirby?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Kirby, Mrs. Kirby, and myself are all the same. You don't suppose the + cunnle would give my real name and address? Did you address yo'r packet to + HIS real name or to some one else. Did you let your husband know who they + were for?” + </p> + <p> + Oddly, a sickening sense of the meanness of all these deceits and + subterfuges suddenly came over Mrs. Bunker. Without replying she went to + her bedroom and returned with Colonel Marion's last letter, which she + tossed into her visitor's lap. + </p> + <p> + “Thank yo', Mrs. Bunker. I'll be sure to tell the cunnle how careful yo' + were not to give up his correspondence to everybody. It'll please him mo' + than to hear yo' are wearing his ring—which everybody knows—before + people.” + </p> + <p> + “He gave it to me—he—he knew I wouldn't take money,” said Mrs. + Bunker indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't have any to give,” said the lady slowly, as she removed the + envelope from her letter and looked up with a dazzling but cruel smile. “A + So'th'n gentleman don't fill up his pockets when he goes out to fight. He + don't tuck his maw's Bible in his breast-pocket, clap his dear auntie's + locket big as a cheese plate over his heart, nor let his sole leather + cigyar case that his gyrl gave him lie round him in spots when he goes out + to take another gentleman's fire. He leaves that to Yanks!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you come here to insult my husband?” said Mrs. Bunker in the rage of + desperation. + </p> + <p> + “To insult yo' husband! Well—I came here to get a letter that his + wife received from his political and natural enemy and—perhaps I + DID!” With a side glance at Mrs. Bunker's crimson cheek she added + carelessly, “I have nothing against Captain Bunker; he's a straightforward + man and must go with his kind. He helped those hounds of Vigilantes + because he believes in them. We couldn't bribe him if we wanted to. And we + don't.” + </p> + <p> + If she only knew something of this woman's relations to Marion—which + she only instinctively suspected—and could retaliate upon her, Mrs. + Bunker felt she would have given up her life at that moment. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Marion seems to find plenty that he can bribe,” she said roughly, + “and I've yet to know who YOU are to sit in judgment on them. You've got + your letter, take it and go! When he wants to send you another through me, + somebody else must come for it, not you. That's all!” + </p> + <p> + She drew back as if to let the intruder pass, but the lady, without moving + a muscle, finished the reading of her letter, then stood up quietly and + began carefully to draw her handsome cloak over her shoulders. “Yo' want + to know who I am, Mrs. Bunker,” she said, arranging the velvet collar + under her white oval chin. “Well, I'm a So'th'n woman from Figinya, and + I'm Figinyan first, last, and all the time.” She shook out her sleeves and + the folds of her cloak. “I believe in State rights and slavery—if + you know what that means. I hate the North, I hate the East, I hate the + West. I hate this nigger Government, I'd kill that man Lincoln quicker + than lightning!” She began to draw down the fingers of her gloves, holding + her shapely hands upright before her. “I'm hard and fast to the Cause. I + gave up house and niggers for it.” She began to button her gloves at the + wrist with some difficulty, tightly setting together her beautiful lips as + she did so. “I gave up my husband for it, and I went to the man who loved + it better and had risked more for it than ever he had. Cunnle Marion's my + friend. I'm Mrs. Fairfax, Josephine Hardee that was; HIS disciple and + follower. Well, maybe those puritanical No'th'n folks might give it + another name!” + </p> + <p> + She moved slowly towards the door, but on the threshold paused, as Colonel + Marion had, and came back to Mrs. Bunker with an outstretched hand. “I + don't see that yo' and me need quo'll. I didn't come here for that. I came + here to see yo'r husband, and seeing YO' I thought it was only right to + talk squarely to yo', as yo' understand I WOULDN'T talk to yo'r husband. + Mrs. Bunker, I want yo'r husband to take me away—I want him to take + me to the cunnle. If I tried to go in any other way I'd be watched, spied + upon and followed, and only lead those hounds on his track. I don't expect + yo' to ASK yo' husband for me, but only not to interfere when I do.” + </p> + <p> + There was a touch of unexpected weakness in her voice and a look of pain + in her eyes which was not unlike what Mrs. Bunker had seen and pitied in + Marion. But they were the eyes of a woman who had humbled her, and Mrs. + Bunker would have been unworthy her sex if she had not felt a cruel + enjoyment in it. Yet the dominance of the stranger was still so strong + that she did not dare to refuse the proffered hand. She, however, slipped + the ring from her finger and laid it in Mrs. Fairfax's palm. + </p> + <p> + “You can take that with you,” she said, with a desperate attempt to + imitate the other's previous indifference. “I shouldn't like to deprive + you and YOUR FRIEND of the opportunity of making use of it again. As for + MY husband, I shall say nothing of you to him as long as you say nothing + to him of me—which I suppose is what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + The insolent look came back to Mrs. Fairfax's face. “I reckon yo' 're + right,” she said quietly, putting the ring in her pocket as she fixed her + dark eyes on Mrs. Bunker, “and the ring may be of use again. Good-by, Mrs. + Bunker.” + </p> + <p> + She waved her hand carelessly, and turning away passed out of the house. A + moment later the boat and its two occupants pushed from the shore, and + disappeared round the Point. + </p> + <p> + Then Mrs. Bunker looked round the room, and down upon her empty finger, + and knew that it was the end of her dream. It was all over now—indeed, + with the picture of that proud, insolent woman before her she wondered if + it had ever begun. This was the woman she had allowed herself to think SHE + might be. This was the woman HE was thinking of when he sat there; this + was the Mrs. Fairfax the officers had spoken of, and who had made her—Mrs. + Bunker—the go-between for their love-making! All the work that she + had done for him, the deceit she had practiced on her husband, was to + bring him and this woman together! And they both knew it, and had no doubt + laughed at her and her pretensions! + </p> + <p> + It was with a burning cheek that she thought how she had intended to go to + Marion, and imagined herself arriving perhaps to find that shameless woman + already there. In her vague unformulated longings she had never before + realized the degradation into which her foolish romance might lead her. + She saw it now; that humiliating moral lesson we are all apt to experience + in the accidental display of our own particular vices in the person we + hate, she had just felt in Mrs. Fairfax's presence. With it came the + paralyzing fear of her husband's discovery of her secret. Secure as she + had been in her dull belief that he had in some way wronged her by + marrying her, she for the first time began to doubt if this condoned the + deceit she had practiced on him. The tribute Mrs. Fairfax had paid him—this + appreciation of his integrity and honesty by an enemy and a woman like + herself—troubled her, frightened her, and filled her with her first + jealousy! What if this woman should tell him all; what if she should make + use of him as Marion had of her! Zephas was a strong Northern partisan, + but was he proof against the guileful charms of such a devil? She had + never thought before of questioning his fidelity to her; she suddenly + remembered now some rough pleasantries of Captain Simmons in regard to the + inconstancy of his calling. No! there was but one thing for her to do: she + would make a clean breast to him; she would tell him everything she had + done except the fatal fancy that compelled her to it! She began to look + for his coming now with alternate hope and fear—with unabated + impatience! The night that he should have arrived passed slowly; morning + came, but not Zephas. When the mist had lifted she ran impatiently to the + rocks and gazed anxiously towards the lower bay. There were a few gray + sails scarce distinguishable above the grayer water—but they were + not his. She glanced half mechanically seaward, and her eyes became + suddenly fixed. There was no mistake! She knew the rig!—she could + see the familiar white lap-streak as the vessel careened on the starboard + tack—it was her husband's schooner slowly creeping out of the Golden + Gate! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART__"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART III. + </h2> + <p> + Her first wild impulse was to run to the cove, for the little dingey + always moored there, and to desperately attempt to overtake him. But the + swift consciousness of its impossibility was followed by a dull, + bewildering torpor, that kept her motionless, helplessly following the + vessel with straining eyes, as if they could evoke some response from its + decks. She was so lost in this occupation that she did not see that a + pilot-boat nearly abreast of the cove had put out a two-oared gig, which + was pulling quickly for the rocks. When she saw it, she trembled with the + instinct that it brought her intelligence. She was right; it was a brief + note from her husband, informing her that he had been hurriedly dispatched + on a short sea cruise; that in order to catch the tide he had not time to + go ashore at the bluff, but he would explain everything on his return. Her + relief was only partial; she was already experienced enough in his + vocation to know that the excuse was a feeble one. He could easily have + “fetched” the bluff in tacking out of the Gate and have signaled to her to + board him in her own boat. The next day she locked up her house, rowed + round the Point to the Embarcadero, where the Bay steamboats occasionally + touched and took up passengers to San Francisco. Captain Simmons had not + seen her husband this last trip; indeed, did not know that he had gone out + of the Bay. Mrs. Bunker was seized with a desperate idea. She called upon + the Secretary of the Fishing Trust. That gentle man was business-like, but + neither expansive nor communicative. Her husband had NOT been ordered out + to sea by them; she ought to know that Captain Bunker was now his own + master, choosing his own fishing grounds, and his own times and seasons. + He was not aware of any secret service for the Company in which Captain + Bunker was engaged. He hoped Mrs. Bunker would distinctly remember that + the little matter of the duel to which she referred was an old bygone + affair, and never anything but a personal matter, in which the Fishery had + no concern whatever, and in which HE certainly should not again engage. He + would advise Mrs. Bunker, if she valued her own good, and especially her + husband's, to speedily forget all about it. These were ugly times, as it + was. If Mrs. Bunker's services had not been properly rewarded or + considered it was certainly a great shame, but really HE could not be + expected to make it good. Certain parties had cost him trouble enough + already. Besides, really, she must see that his position between her + husband, whom he respected, and a certain other party was a delicate one. + But Mrs. Bunker heard no more. She turned and ran down the staircase, + carrying with her a burning cheek and blazing eye that somewhat startled + the complacent official. + </p> + <p> + She did not remember how she got home again. She had a vague recollection + of passing through the crowded streets, wondering if the people knew that + she was an outcast, deserted by her husband, deceived by her ideal hero, + repudiated by her friends! Men had gathered in knots before the newspaper + offices, excited and gesticulating over the bulletin boards that had such + strange legends as “The Crisis,” “Details of an Alleged Conspiracy to + Overthrow the Government,” “The Assassin of Henderson to the Fore Again,” + “Rumored Arrests on the Mexican Frontier.” Sometimes she thought she + understood the drift of them; even fancied they were the outcome of her + visit—as if her very presence carried treachery and suspicion with + it—but generally they only struck her benumbed sense as a dull, + meaningless echo of something that had happened long ago. When she reached + her house, late that night, the familiar solitude of shore and sea gave + her a momentary relief, but with it came the terrible conviction that she + had forfeited her right to it, that when her husband came back it would be + hers no longer, and that with their meeting she would know it no more. For + through all her childish vacillation and imaginings she managed to cling + to one steadfast resolution. She would tell him EVERYTHING, and know the + worst. Perhaps he would never come; perhaps she should not be alive to + meet him. + </p> + <p> + And so the days and nights slowly passed. The solitude which her previous + empty deceit had enabled her to fill with such charming visions now in her + awakened remorse seemed only to protract her misery. Had she been a more + experienced, though even a more guilty, woman she would have suffered + less. Without sympathy or counsel, without even the faintest knowledge of + the world or its standards of morality to guide her, she accepted her + isolation and friendlessness as a necessary part of her wrongdoing. Her + only criterion was her enemy—Mrs. Fairfax—and SHE could seek + her relief by joining her lover; but Mrs. Bunker knew now that she herself + had never had one—and was alone! Mrs. Fairfax had broken openly with + her husband; but SHE had DECEIVED hers, and the experience and reckoning + were still to come. In her miserable confession it was not strange that + this half child, half woman, sometimes looked towards that gray sea, + eternally waiting for her,—that sea which had taken everything from + her and given her nothing in return,—for an obliterating and perhaps + exonerating death! + </p> + <p> + The third day of her waiting isolation was broken upon by another + intrusion. The morning had been threatening, with an opaque, motionless, + livid arch above, which had taken the place of the usual flying scud and + shaded cloud masses of the rainy season. The whole outlying ocean, too, + beyond the bar, appeared nearer, and even seemed to be lifted higher than + the Bay itself, and was lit every now and then with wonderful clearness by + long flashes of breaking foam like summer lightning. She knew that this + meant a southwester, and began, with a certain mechanical deliberation, to + set her little domain in order against the coming gale. She drove the cows + to the rude shed among the scrub oaks, she collected the goats and young + kids in the corral, and replenished the stock of fuel from the woodpile. + She was quite hidden in the shrubbery when she saw a boat making slow + headway against the wind towards the little cove where but a moment before + she had drawn up the dingey beyond the reach of breaking seas. It was a + whaleboat from Saucelito containing a few men. As they neared the landing + she recognized in the man who seemed to be directing the boat the second + friend of Colonel Marion—the man who had come with the Secretary to + take him off, but whom she had never seen again. In her present horror of + that memory she remained hidden, determined at all hazards to avoid a + meeting. When they had landed, one of the men halted accidentally before + the shrubbery where she was concealed as he caught his first view of the + cottage, which had been invisible from the point they had rounded. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Bragg,” he said, turning to Marion's friend, in a voice which + was distinctly audible to Mrs. Bunker. “What are we to say to these + people?” + </p> + <p> + “There's only one,” returned the other. “The man's at sea. His wife's + here. She's all right.” + </p> + <p> + “You said she was one of us?” + </p> + <p> + “After a fashion. She's the woman who helped Marion when he was here. I + reckon he made it square with her from the beginning, for she forwarded + letters from him since. But you can tell her as much or as little as you + find necessary when you see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but we must settle that NOW,” said Bragg sharply, “and I propose to + tell her NOTHING. I'm against having any more petticoats mixed up with our + affairs. I propose to make an examination of the place without bothering + our heads about her.” + </p> + <p> + “But we must give some reason for coming here, and we must ask her to keep + dark, or we'll have her blabbing to the first person she meets,” urged the + other. + </p> + <p> + “She's not likely to see anybody before night, when the brig will be in + and the men and guns landed. Move on, and let Jim take soundings off the + cove, while I look along the shore. It's just as well that there's a house + here, and a little cover like this”—pointing to the shrubbery—“to + keep the men from making too much of a show until after the earthworks are + up. There are sharp eyes over at the Fort.” + </p> + <p> + “There don't seem to be any one in the house now,” returned the other + after a moment's scrutiny of the cottage, “or the woman would surely come + out at the barking of the dog, even if she hadn't seen us. Likely she's + gone to Saucelito.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better. Just as well that she should know nothing until it + happens. Afterwards we'll settle with the husband for the price of + possession; he has only a squatter's rights. Come along; we'll have bad + weather before we get back round the Point again, but so much the better, + for it will keep off any inquisitive longshore cruisers.” + </p> + <p> + They moved away. But Mrs. Bunker, stung through her benumbed and brooding + consciousness, and made desperate by this repeated revelation of her + former weakness, had heard enough to make her feverish to hear more. She + knew the intricacies of the shrubbery thoroughly. She knew every foot of + shade and cover of the clearing, and creeping like a cat from bush to bush + she managed, without being discovered, to keep the party in sight and + hearing all the time. It required no great discernment, even for an + inexperienced woman like herself, at the end of an hour, to gather their + real purpose. It was to prepare for the secret landing of an armed force, + disguised as laborers, who, under the outward show of quarrying in the + bluff, were to throw up breastworks, and fortify the craggy shelf. The + landing was fixed for that night, and was to be effected by a vessel now + cruising outside the Heads. + </p> + <p> + She understood it all now. She remembered Marion's speech about the + importance of the bluff for military purposes; she remembered the visit of + the officers from the Fort opposite. The strangers were stealing a march + upon the Government, and by night would be in possession. It was perhaps + an evidence of her newly awakened and larger comprehension that she took + no thought of her loss of home and property,—perhaps there was + little to draw her to it now,—but was conscious only of a more + terrible catastrophe—a catastrophe to which she was partly + accessory, of which any other woman would have warned her husband—or + at least those officers of the Fort whose business it was to—Ah, + yes! the officers of the Fort—only just opposite to her! She + trembled, and yet flushed with an inspiration. It was not too late yet—why + not warn them NOW? + </p> + <p> + But how? A message sent by Saucelito and the steamboat to San Francisco—the + usual way—would not reach them tonight. To go herself, rowing + directly across in the dingey, would be the only security of success. If + she could do it? It was a long pull—the sea was getting up—but + she would try. + </p> + <p> + She waited until the last man had stepped into the boat, in nervous dread + of some one remaining. Then, when the boat had vanished round the Point + again, she ran back to the cottage, arrayed herself in her husband's pilot + coat, hat, and boots, and launched the dingey. It was a heavy, slow, but + luckily a stanch and seaworthy boat. It was not until she was well off + shore that she began to feel the full fury of the wind and waves, and knew + the difficulty and danger of her undertaking. She had decided that her + shortest and most direct course was within a few points of the wind, but + the quartering of the waves on the broad bluff bows of the boat tended to + throw it to leeward, a movement that, while it retarded her forward + progress, no doubt saved the little craft from swamping. Again, the + feebleness and shortness of her stroke, which never impelled her through a + rising wave, but rather lifted her half way up its face, prevented the + boat from taking much water, while her steadfast gaze, fixed only on the + slowly retreating shore, kept her steering free from any fatal nervous + vacillation, which the sight of the threatening seas on her bow might have + produced. Preserved through her very weakness, ignorance, and simplicity + of purpose, the dingey had all the security of a drifting boat, yet + retained a certain gentle but persistent guidance. In this feminine + fashion she made enough headway to carry her abreast of the Point, where + she met the reflux current sweeping round it that carried her well along + into the channel, now sluggish with the turn of the tide. After half an + hour's pulling, she was delighted to find herself again in a reverse + current, abreast of her cottage, but steadily increasing her distance from + it. She was, in fact, on the extreme outer edge of a vast whirlpool formed + by the force of the gale on a curving lee shore, and was being carried to + her destination in a semicircle around that bay which she never could have + crossed. She was moving now in a line with the shore and the Fort, whose + flagstaff, above its green, square, and white quarters, she could see + distinctly, and whose lower water battery and landing seemed to stretch + out from the rocks scarcely a mile ahead. Protected by the shore from the + fury of the wind, and even of the sea, her progress was also steadily + accelerated by the velocity of the current, mingling with the ebbing tide. + A sudden fear seized her. She turned the boat's head towards the shore, + but it was swept quickly round again; she redoubled her exertions, tugging + frantically at her helpless oars. She only succeeded in getting the boat + into the trough of the sea, where, after a lurch that threatened to + capsize it, it providentially swung around on its short keel and began to + drift stern on. She was almost abreast of the battery now; she could hear + the fitful notes of a bugle that seemed blown and scattered above her + head; she even thought she could see some men in blue uniforms moving + along the little pier. She was passing it; another fruitless effort to + regain her ground, but she was swept along steadily towards the Gate, the + whitening bar, and the open sea. + </p> + <p> + She knew now what it all meant. This was what she had come for; this was + the end! Beyond, only a little beyond, just a few moments longer to wait, + and then, out there among the breakers was the rest that she had longed + for but had not dared to seek. It was not her fault; they could not blame + HER. He would come back and never know what had happened—nor even + know how she had tried to atone for her deceit. And he would find his + house in possession of—of—those devils! No! No! she must not + die yet, at least not until she had warned the Fort. She seized the oars + again with frenzied strength; the boat had stopped under the unwonted + strain, staggered, tried to rise in an uplifted sea, took part of it over + her bow, struck down Mrs. Bunker under half a ton of blue water that + wrested the oars from her paralyzed hands like playthings, swept them over + the gunwale, and left her lying senseless in the bottom of the boat. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “Hold har-rd—or you'll run her down.” + </p> + <p> + “Now then, Riley,—look alive,—is it slapin' ye are!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold yer jaw, Flanigan, and stand ready with the boat-hook. Now then, + hold har-rd!” + </p> + <p> + The sudden jarring and tilting of the water-logged boat, a sound of + rasping timbers, the swarming of men in shirtsleeves and blue trousers + around her, seemed to rouse her momentarily, but she again fainted away. + </p> + <p> + When she struggled back to consciousness once more she was wrapped in a + soldier's jacket, her head pillowed on the shirt-sleeve of an artillery + corporal in the stern sheets of that eight-oared government barge she had + remembered. But the only officer was a bareheaded, boyish lieutenant, and + the rowers were an athletic but unseamanlike crew of mingled artillerymen + and infantry. + </p> + <p> + “And where did ye drift from, darlint?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bunker bridled feebly at the epithet. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't drift. I was going to the Fort.” + </p> + <p> + “The Fort, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I want to see the general.” + </p> + <p> + “Wadn't the liftenant do ye? Or shure there's the adjutant; he's a foine + man.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence, Flanigan,” said the young officer sharply. Then turning to Mrs. + Bunker he said, “Don't mind HIM, but let his wife take you to the canteen, + when we get in, and get you some dry clothes.” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Bunker, spurred to convalescence at the indignity, protested + stiffly, and demanded on her arrival to be led at once to the general's + quarters. A few officers, who had been attracted to the pier by the + rescue, acceded to her demand. + </p> + <p> + She recognized the gray-haired, handsome man who had come ashore at her + house. With a touch of indignation at her treatment, she briefly told her + story. But the general listened coldly and gravely with his eyes fixed + upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “You say you recognized in the leader of the party a man you had seen + before. Under what circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bunker hesitated with burning cheeks. “He came to take Colonel Marion + from our place.” + </p> + <p> + “When you were hiding him,—yes, we've heard the story. Now, Mrs. + Bunker, may I ask you what you, as a Southern sympathizer, expect to gain + by telling me this story?” + </p> + <p> + But here Mrs. Bunker burst out. “I am not a Southern sympathizer! Never! + Never! Never! I'm a Union woman,—wife of a Northern man. I helped + that man before I knew who he was. Any Christian, Northerner or + Southerner, would have done the same!” + </p> + <p> + Her sincerity and passion were equally unmistakable. The general rose, + opened the door of the adjoining room, said a few words to an orderly on + duty, and returned. “What you are asking of me, Mrs. Bunker, is almost as + extravagant and unprecedented as your story. You must understand, as well + as your husband, that if I land a force on your property it will be to + TAKE POSSESSION of it in the name of the Government, for Government + purposes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Bunker eagerly; “I know that. I am willing; Zephas + will be willing.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued the general, fixing his eyes on her face, “you will also + understand that I may be compelled to detain you here as a hostage for the + safety of my men.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no! no! please!” said Mrs. Bunker, springing up with an imploring + feminine gesture; “I am expecting my husband. He may be coming back at any + moment; I must be there to see him FIRST! Please let me go back, sir, with + your men; put me anywhere ashore between them and those men that are + coming. Lock me up; keep me a prisoner in my own home; do anything else if + you think I am deceiving you; but don't keep me here to miss him when he + comes!” + </p> + <p> + “But you can see him later,” said the general. + </p> + <p> + “But I must see him FIRST,” said Mrs. Bunker desperately. “I must see him + first, for—for—HE KNOWS NOTHING OF THIS. He knows nothing of + my helping Colonel Marion; he knows nothing of—how foolish I have + been, and—he must not know it from others! There!” It was out at + last. She was sobbing now, but her pride was gone. She felt relieved, and + did not even notice the presence of two or three other officers, who had + entered the room, exchanged a few hurried words with their superior, and + were gazing at her in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + The general's brow relaxed, and he smiled. “Very well, Mrs. Bunker; it + shall be as you like, then. You shall go and meet your husband with + Captain Jennings here,”—indicating one of the officers,—“who + will take charge of you and the party.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” said Mrs. Bunker, looking imploringly through her wet but pretty + lashes at the officer, “he won't say anything to Zephas, either?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a syllable,” said Captain Jennings gravely. “But while the tug is + getting ready, general, hadn't Mrs. Bunker better go to Mrs. Flanigan?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not,” said the general, with a significant look at the officer as + he gallantly offered his arm to the astonished Mrs. Bunker, “if she will + allow me the pleasure of taking her to my wife.” + </p> + <p> + There was an equally marked respect in the manner of the men and officers + as Mrs. Bunker finally stepped on board the steam tug that was to convey + the party across the turbulent bay. But she heeded it not, neither did she + take any concern of the still furious gale, the difficult landing, the + preternatural activity of the band of sappers, who seemed to work magic + with their picks and shovels, the shelter tents that arose swiftly around + her, the sheds and bush inclosures that were evoked from the very ground + beneath her feet; the wonderful skill, order, and discipline that in a few + hours converted her straggling dominion into a formal camp, even to the + sentinel, who was already calmly pacing the rocks by the landing as if he + had being doing it for years! Only one thing thrilled her—the sudden + outburst, fluttering and snapping of the national flag from her little + flagstaff. He would see it—and perhaps be pleased! + </p> + <p> + And indeed it seemed as if the men had caught the infection of her + anxiety, for when her strained eyes could no longer pierce the murky + twilight settling over the Gate, one came running to her to say that the + lookout had just discovered through his glass a close-reefed schooner + running in before the wind. It was her husband, and scarcely an hour after + night had shut in the schooner had rounded to off the Point, dropped her + boat, and sped away to anchorage. And then Mrs. Bunker, running bareheaded + down the rocks, breaking in upon the hurried explanation of the officer of + the guard, threw herself upon her husband's breast, and sobbed and laughed + as if her heart would break! + </p> + <p> + Nor did she scarcely hear his hurried comment to the officer and + unconscious corroboration of her story: how a brig had raced them from the + Gate, was heading for the bar, but suddenly sheered off and put away to + sea again, as if from some signal from the headland. “Yes—the + bluff,” interrupted Captain Jennings bitterly, “I thought of that, but the + old man said it was more diplomatic just now to PREVENT an attempt than + even to successfully resist it.” + </p> + <p> + But when they were alone again in their little cottage, and Zephas' honest + eyes—with no trace of evil knowledge or suspicion in their homely, + neutral lightness—were looking into hers with his usual simple + trustfulness, Mrs. Bunker trembled, whimpered, and—I grieve to say—basely + funked her boasted confession. But here the Deity which protects feminine + weakness intervened with the usual miracle. As he gazed at his wife's + troubled face, an apologetic cloud came over his rugged but open brow, and + a smile of awkward deprecating embarrassment suffused his eyes. “I declare + to goodness, Mollie, but I must tell you suthin, although I guess I didn't + kalkilate to say a word about it. But, darn it all, I can't keep it in. + No! Lookin' inter that innercent face o' yourn”—pressing her + flushing cheeks between his cool brown hands—“and gazing inter them + two truthful eyes”—they blinked at this moment with a divine modesty—“and + thinkin' of what you've just did for your kentry—like them + revolutionary women o' '76—I feel like a darned swab of a traitor + myself. Well! what I want ter tell you is this: Ye know, or ye've heard me + tell o' that Mrs. Fairfax, as left her husband for that fire-eatin' + Marion, and stuck to him through thick and thin, and stood watch and watch + with him in this howlin' Southern rumpus they're kickin' up all along the + coast, as if she was a man herself. Well, jes as I hauled up at the wharf + at 'Frisco, she comes aboard. + </p> + <p> + “'You're Cap Bunker?' she says. + </p> + <p> + “'That's me, ma'am,' I says. + </p> + <p> + “'You're a Northern man and you go with your kind,' sez she; 'but you're a + white man, and thar's no cur blood in you.' But you ain't listenin', + Mollie; you're dead tired, lass,”—with a commiserating look at her + now whitening face,—“and I'll haul in line and wait. Well, to cut it + short, she wanted me to take her down the coast a bit to where she could + join Marion. She said she'd been shook by his friends, followed by spies—and, + blame my skin, Mollie, ef that proud woman didn't break down and CRY like + a baby. Now, Mollie, what got ME in all this, was that them Chivalry folks—ez + was always jawin' about their 'Southern dames' and their 'Ladye fairs,' + and always runnin' that kind of bilge water outer their scuppers whenever + they careened over on a fair wind—was jes the kind to throw off on a + woman when they didn't want her, and I kinder thought I'd like HER to see + the difference betwixt the latitude o' Charleston and Cape Cod. So I told + her I didn't want the jewelry and dimons she offered me, but if she would + come down to the wharf, after dark, I'd smuggle her aboard, and I'd allow + to the men that she was YOUR AUNTIE ez I was givin' a free passage to! + Lord! dear! think o' me takin' the name o' Mollie Bunker's aunt in vain + for that sort o' woman! Think o' me,” continued Captain Bunker with a + tentative chuckle, “sort o' pretendin' to hand yo'r auntie to Kernel + Marion for—for his lady love! I don't wonder ye's half frighted and + half laffin',” he added, as his wife uttered a hysterical cry; “it WAS + awful! But it worked, and I got her off, and wot's more I got her shipped + to Mazatlan, where she'll join Marion, and the two are goin' back to + Virginy, where I guess they won't trouble Californy again. Ye know now, + deary,” he went on, speaking with difficulty through Mrs. Bunker's + clinging arms and fast dripping tears, “why I didn't heave to to say + 'good-by.' But it's all over now—I've made a clean breast of it, + Mollie—and don't you cry!” + </p> + <p> + But it was NOT all over. For a moment later Captain Bunker began to fumble + in his waistcoat pocket with the one hand that was not clasping his wife's + waist. “One thing more, Mollie; when I left her and refused to take any of + her dimons, she put a queer sort o' ring into my hand, and told me with a + kind o' mischievious, bedevilin' smile, that I must keep it to remember + her by. Here it is—why, Mollie lass! are you crazy?” + </p> + <p> + She had snatched it from his fingers and was running swiftly from the + cottage out into the tempestuous night. He followed closely, until she + reached the edge of the rocks. And only then, in the struggling, + fast-flying moonlight, she raised a passionate hand, and threw it far into + the sea! + </p> + <p> + As he led her back to the cottage she said she was jealous, and honest + Captain Bunker, with his arm around her, felt himself the happiest man in + the world! + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + From that day the flag flew regularly over the rocky shelf, and, in time, + bugles and morning drumbeats were wafted from it to the decks of passing + ships. For the Federal Government had adjudged the land for its own use, + paid Captain Bunker a handsome sum for its possession, and had discreetly + hidden the little cottage of Mrs. Bunker and its history forever behind + bastion and casemate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TRANSFORMATION OF BUCKEYE CAMP + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART___"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I. + </h2> + <p> + The tiny lights that had been far scattered and intermittent as fireflies + all along the dark stream at last dropped out one by one, leaving only the + three windows of “Parks' Emporium” to pierce the profoundly wooded banks + of the South Fork. So all-pervading was the darkness that the mere opening + of the “Emporium” front door shot out an illuminating shaft which revealed + the whole length of the little main street of “Buckeye,” while the simple + passing of a single figure before one of the windows momentarily eclipsed + a third of the settlement. This undue pre-eminence given to the only three + citizens of Buckeye who were still up at ten o 'clock seemed to be hardly + justified by their outward appearance, which was that of ordinary + long-bearded and long-booted river bar miners. Two sat upon the counter + with their hands upon their knees, the third leaned beside the open + window. + </p> + <p> + It was very quiet. The faint, far barking of a dog, or an occasional + subdued murmur from the river shallows, audible only when the wind rose + slightly, helped to intensify their solitude. So supreme had it become + that when the man at the window at last continued his conversation + meditatively, with his face towards it, he seemed to be taking all Nature + into his confidence. + </p> + <p> + “The worst thing about it is, that the only way we can keep her out of the + settlement is by the same illegal methods which we deplore in other camps. + We have always boasted that Buckeye could get along without Vigilance + Committees or Regulators.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and that was because we started it on the principle of original + selection, which we are only proposing to continue,” replied one of the + men on the counter. “So there's nothing wrong about our sending a + deputation to wait upon her, to protest against her settling here, and + give her our reasons.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, only it has all the impudence without the pluck of the Regulators. + You demand what you are afraid to enforce. Come, Parks, you know she has + all the rights on her side. Look at it squarely. She proposes to open a + store and sell liquor and cigars, which she serves herself, in the + broken-down tienda which was regularly given to her people by the Spanish + grantee of the land we're squatting on. It's not her fault but ours if + we've adopted a line of rules, which don't agree with hers, to govern the + settlers on HER land, nor should she be compelled to follow them. Nor + because we justify OUR squatting here, on the ground that the Spanish + grant isn't confirmed yet, can we forbid her squatting under the same + right.” + </p> + <p> + “But look at the moral question, Brace. Consider the example; the + influence of such a shop, kept by such a woman, on the community! We have + the right to protect ourselves—the majority.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the way the lynchers talk,” returned Brace. “And I'm not so sure + about there being any moral question yet. You are assuming too much. There + is no reason why she shouldn't run the tienda as decently—barring + the liquor sale, which, however, is legal, and for which she can get a + license—as a man could, and without interfering with our morals.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what is the use of our rules?” + </p> + <p> + “They were made for those who consented to adopt them, as we all did. They + still bind US, and if we don't choose to buy her liquor or cigars that + will dispose of her and her tienda much more effectually than your + protest. It's a pity she's a lone unprotected woman. Now if she only had a + husband”— + </p> + <p> + “She carries a dagger in her garter.” + </p> + <p> + This apparently irrelevant remark came from the man who had not yet + spoken, but who had been listening with the languid unconcern of one who, + relinquishing the labor of argument to others, had consented to abide by + their decision. It was met with a scornful smile from each of the + disputants, perhaps even by an added shrug of the shoulders from the + woman's previous defender! HE was evidently not to be taken in by + extraneous sentiment. Nevertheless, both listened as the speaker, slowly + feeling his knees as if they were his way to a difficult subject, + continued with the same suggestion of stating general fact, but waiving + any argument himself. “Clarkson of Angels allows she's got a free, gaudy, + picter-covered style with the boys, but that she can be gilt-edged when + she wants to. Rowley Meade—him ez hed his skelp pulled over his eyes + at one stroke, foolin' with a she bear over on Black Mountain—allows + it would be rather monotonous in him attemptin' any familiarities with + her. Bulstrode's brother, ez was in Marysville, said there was a woman—like + to her, but not her—ez made it lively for the boys with a game + called 'Little Monte,' and he dropped a hundred dollars there afore he + came away. They do say that about seven men got shot in Marysville on + account o' this one, or from some oneasiness that happened at her shop. + But then,” he went on slowly and deferentially as the faces of the two + others were lowered and became fixed, “SHE says she tired o' drunken + rowdies,—there's a sameness about 'em, and it don't sell her pipes + and cigars, and that's WHY she's coming here. Thompson over at Dry Creek + sez that THAT'S where our reputation is playin' us! 'We've got her as a + reward o' virtoo, and be d——d to us.' But,” cautiously, + “Thompson ain't drawed a sober breath since Christmas.” + </p> + <p> + The three men looked in each other's faces in silence. The same thought + occurred to each; the profane Thompson was right, and the woman's advent + was the logical sequence of their own ethics. Two years previously, the + Buckeye Company had found gold on the South Fork, and had taken up claims. + Composed mainly of careful, provident, and thoughtful men,—some of + cultivation and refinement,—they had adopted a certain orderly + discipline for their own guidance solely, which, however, commended itself + to later settlers, already weary of the lawlessness and reckless freedom + which usually attended the inception of mining settlements. Consequently + the birth of Buckeye was accompanied with no dangerous travail; its + infancy was free from the diseases of adolescent communities. The + settlers, without any express prohibition, had tacitly dispensed with + gambling and drinking saloons; following the unwritten law of example, had + laid aside their revolvers, and mingled together peacefully when their + labors were ended, without a single peremptory regulation against drinking + and playing, or carrying lethal weapons. Nor had there been any test of + fitness or qualification for citizenship through previous virtue. There + were one or two gamblers, a skillful duelist, and men who still drank + whiskey who had voluntarily sought the camp. Of some such antecedents was + the last speaker. Probably with two wives elsewhere, and a possible + homicidal record, he had modestly held aloof from obtrusive argument. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we must have a meeting and put the question squarely to the boys + to-morrow,” said Parks, gazing thoughtfully from the window. The remark + was followed by another long silence. Beyond, in the darkness, Buckeye, + unconscious of the momentous question awaiting its decision, slept on + peacefully. + </p> + <p> + “I brought the keg of whiskey and brandy from Red Gulch to-day that Doctor + Duchesne spoke of,” he resumed presently. “You know he said we ought to + have some in common stock that he could always rely upon in emergencies, + and for use after the tule fever. I didn't agree with him, and told him + how I had brought Sam Denver through an attack with quinine and arrowroot, + but he laughed and wanted to know if we'd 'resolved' that everybody should + hereafter have the Denver constitution. That's the trouble with those old + army surgeons,—they never can get over the 'heroics' of their past. + Why he told Parson Jennings that he'd rather treat a man for jim-jams than + one that was dying for want of stimulants. However, the liquor is here, + and one of the things we must settle tomorrow is the question if it ought + not to be issued only on Duchesne's prescription. When I made that point + to him squarely, he grinned again, and wanted to know if I calculated to + put the same restriction on the sale of patent medicines and drugs + generally.” + </p> + <p> + “'N powder 'n shot,” contributed the indifferent man. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you'd better take a look at the liquor, Saunders,” said Parks, + dismissing the ethical question. “YOU know more about it than we do. It + ought to be the best.” + </p> + <p> + Saunders went behind the counter, drew out two demijohns, and, possibly + from the force of habit, selected THREE mugs from the crockery and poured + some whiskey into each, before he could check himself. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we had better compare tastes,” said Brace blandly. They all + sipped their liquor slowly and in silence. The decision was favorable. + “Better try some with water to see how it mixes,” said Saunders, lazily + filling the glasses with a practiced hand. This required more + deliberation, and they drew their chairs to the table and sat down. A + slight relaxation stole over the thoughtful faces of Brace and Parks, a + gentle perspiration came over the latter's brow, but the features and + expression of Saunders never changed. The conversation took a broader + range; politics and philosophy entered into it; literature and poetry were + discussed by Parks and Brace, Saunders still retaining the air of a + dispassionate observer, ready to be convinced, but abstaining from + argument—and occasionally replenishing the glasses. There was felt + to be no inconsistency between their present attitude and their previous + conversation; rather it proved to them that gentlemen could occasionally + indulge in a social glass together without frequenting a liquor saloon. + This was stated with some degree of effusion by Parks and assented to with + singular enthusiasm by Brace; Saunders nodding. It was also observed with + great penetration by Brace that in having really GOOD, specially selected + liquor like that, the great danger of the intoshikat'n 'fx—he + corrected himself with great deliberation, “the intoxicating effects”—of + adulterated liquors sold in drinking saloons was obviated. Mr. Brace + thought also that the vitiated quality of the close air of a crowded + saloon had a great deal to do with it—the excess of carbon—hic—he + begged their pardon—carbonic acid gas undoubtedly rendered people + “slupid and steepy.” “But here, from the open window,” he walked dreamily + to it and leaned out admiringly towards the dark landscape that softly + slumbered without, “one could drink in only health and poetry.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's that?” said Saunders, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “I said health and poetry,” returned Brace with some dignity. “I repeat”— + </p> + <p> + “No. I mean wot's that noise? Listen.” + </p> + <p> + They listened so breathlessly that the soft murmur of the river seemed to + flow in upon them. But above it quite distinctly came the regular muffled + beat of horse-hoofs in the thick dust and the occasional rattle of wheels + over rocky irregularities. But still very far and faint, and fading like + the noises in a dream. Brace drew a long breath; Parks smiled and softly + closed his eyes. But Saunders remained listening. + </p> + <p> + “That was over OUR road, near the turnpike!” he said musingly. “That's + queer; thar ain't any of the boys away to-night, and that's a wagon. It's + some one comin' here. Hark to that! There it is again.” + </p> + <p> + It was the same sound but more distinct and nearer, and then was lost + again. + </p> + <p> + “They're dragging through the river sand that's just abreast o' Mallory's. + Stopped there, I reckon. No! pushin' on again. Hear 'em grinding along the + gravel over Hamilton's trailin's? Stopped agin—that's before + Somerville's shanty. What's gone o' them now? Maybe they've lost the trail + and got onto Gray's slide through the woods. It's no use lookin'; ye + couldn't see anything in this nigger dark. Hol' on! If they're comin' + through the woods, ye'll hear 'em again jest off here. Yes! by thunder! + here they are.” + </p> + <p> + This time the clatter and horse-hoofs were before them, at the very door. + A man's voice cried, “Whoa!” and there was a sudden bound on the veranda. + The door opened; for an instant the entrance appeared to be filled with a + mass of dazzling white flounces, and a figure which from waist to crown + was impenetrably wrapped and swathed in black lace. Somewhere beneath its + folds a soft Spanish, yet somewhat childish voice cried, “Tente. Hol' on,” + turned and vanished. This was succeeded by the apparition of a silent, + swarthy Mexican, who dropped a small trunk at their feet and vanished + also. Then the white-flounced and black-laced figure reappeared as the + departing wagon rattled away, glided to the centre of the room, placed on + the trunk a small foot, whose low-quartered black satin slipper seemed to + be held only by the toe, threw back with both hands the black lace + mantilla, which was pinned by a rose over her little right ear, and with + her hands slightly extended and waving softly said, “Mira caballeros! 'Ere + we are again, boys! Viva! Aow ees your mother? Aow ees that for high? + Behold me! just from Pike!” + </p> + <p> + Parks and Brace, who had partly risen, fell back hopelessly in their + chairs again and gazed at the figure with a feeble smile of vacuous pain + and politeness. At which it advanced, lowered its black eyes mischievously + over the table and the men who sat there, poured out a glass of the + liquor, and said: “I look towards you, boys! Don't errise. You are just a + leetle weary, eh? A leetle. Oh yes! a leetle tired of crookin' your elbow—eh? + Don't care if the school keep!—eh? Don't want any pie! Want to go + 'ome, eh?” + </p> + <p> + But here Mr. Parks rose with slight difficulty, but unflinching dignity, + and leaned impressively over the table, “May I ashk—may I be + permitted to arsk, madam, to what we may owe the pleasure of thish—of + this—visit?” + </p> + <p> + Her face and attitude instantly changed. Her arms dropped and caught up + the mantilla with a quick but not ungraceful sweep, and in apparently a + single movement she was draped, wrapped, and muffled from waist to crown + as before. With a slight inclination of her head, she said in quite + another voice: “Si, senor. I have arrive here because in your whole great + town of Booki there is not so much as one”—she held up a small brown + finger—“as much as ONE leetle light or fire like thees; be-cause in + this grand pueblo there is not one peoples who have not already sleep in + his bed but thees! Bueno! I have arrive all the same like a leetle bird, + like the small fly arrive to the light! not to YOU—only to THE + LIGHT! I go not to my casa for she is dark, and tonight she have nothing + to make the fire or bed. I go not to the 'otel—there is not ONE”—the + brown finger again uplifted—“'otel in Booki! I make the 'otel—the + Fonda—in my hoose manana—to-morrow! Tonight I and Sanchicha + make the bed for us 'ere. Sanchicha, she stands herself now over in the + street. We have mooch sorrow we have to make the caballeros mooch + tr-rouble to make disposition of his house. But what will you?” + </p> + <p> + There was another awkward silence, and then Saunders, who had been + examining the intruder with languid criticism, removed his pipe from his + mouth and said quietly:— + </p> + <p> + “That's the woman you're looking for—Jovita Mendez!” + </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> + The rest of that interview has not been recorded. Suffice it that a few + minutes later Parks, Brace, and Saunders left the Emporium, and passed the + night in the latter's cabin, leaving the Emporium in possession of Miss + Mendez and her peon servant; that at the earliest dawn the two women and + their baggage were transferred to the old adobe house, where, however, a + Mexican workman had already arrived, and with a basketful of red tiles was + making it habitable. Buckeye, which was popularly supposed to sleep with + one eye on the river, and always first repaired there in the morning to + wash and work, was only awake to the knowledge of the invasion at noon. + The meeting so confidently spoken of the night before had NOT been called. + Messrs. Parks and Brace were suffering from headaches—undoubtedly a + touch of tule chill. Saunders, at work with his partner in Eagle Bar, was + as usual generous with apparently irrelevant facts on all subjects—but + that of the strangers. It would seem as if the self-constituted Committee + of Safety had done nothing. + </p> + <p> + And nothing whatever seemed to happen! Thompson of Angels, smoking a + meditative pipe at noon on the trail noticed the repairing of the old + adobe house, casually spoke of it on his return to his work, without + apparent concern or exciting any comment. The two Billinger brothers saw + Jovita Mendez at the door of her house an hour later, were themselves seen + conversing with her by Jim Barker, but on returning to their claim, + neither they nor Barker exhibited any insurrectionary excitement. Later + on, Shuttleworth was found in possession of two bundles of freshly rolled + corn-husk cigarettes, and promised to get his partner some the next day, + but that gentleman anticipated him. By nightfall nearly all Buckeye had + passed in procession before the little house without exhibiting any + indignation or protest. That night, however, it seemed as if the events + for which the Committee was waiting were really impending. The adult + female population of Buckeye consisted of seven women—wives of + miners. That they would submit tamely to the introduction of a young, + pretty, and presumably dangerous member of their own sex was not to be + supposed. But whatever protest they made did not pass beyond their + conjugal seclusion, and was apparently not supported by their husbands. + Two or three of them, under the pretext of sympathy of sex, secured + interviews with the fair intruder, the result of which was not, however, + generally known. But a few days later Mrs. “Bob” Carpenter—a + somewhat brick-dusty blonde—was observed wearing some black netting + and a heavily flounced skirt, and Mrs. Shuttleworth in her next visit to + Fiddletown wore her Paisley shawl affixed to her chestnut hair by a bunch + of dog-roses, and wrapped like a plaid around her waist. The seven ladies + of Buckeye, who had never before met, except on domestic errands to each + other's houses or on Sunday attendance at the “First Methodist Church” at + Fiddletown, now took to walking together, or in their husbands' company, + along the upper bank of the river—the one boulevard of Buckeye. The + third day after Miss Mendez' arrival they felt the necessity of immediate + shopping expeditions to Fiddletown. This operation had hitherto been + confined to certain periods, and restricted to the laying in of stores of + rough household stuffs; but it now apparently included a wider range and + more ostentatious quality. Parks' Emporium no longer satisfied them, and + this unexpected phase of the situation was practically brought home to the + proprietor in the necessity of extending the more inoffensive and peaceful + part of his stock. And when, towards the end of the week, a cartload of + pretty fixtures, mirrors, and furniture arrived at the tienda, there was a + renewed demand at the Emporium for articles not in stock, and the + consequent diverting of custom to Fiddletown. Buckeye found itself face to + face with a hitherto undreamt of and preposterous proposition. It seemed + that the advent of the strange woman, without having yet produced any + appreciable effect upon the men, had already insidiously inveigled the + adult female population into ostentatious extravagance. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a week the little adobe house was not only rendered + habitable, but was even made picturesque by clean white curtains at its + barred windows, and some bright, half-Moorish coloring of beams and + rafters. Nearly the whole ground floor was given up to the saloon of the + tienda, which consisted of a small counter at one side, containing bottles + and glasses, and another, flanking it, with glass cases, containing + cigars, pipes, and tobacco, while the centre of the room was given up to + four or five small restaurant tables. The staff of Jovita was no longer + limited to Sanchicha, but had been augmented by a little old man of + indefinite antiquity who resembled an Aztec idol, and an equally old + Mexican, who looked not unlike a brown-tinted and veined tobacco leaf + himself, and might have stood for a sign. But the genius of the place, its + omnipresent and all-pervading goddess, was Jovita! Smiling, joyous, + indefatigable in suavity and attention; all-embracing in her courtesies; + frank of speech and eye; quick at repartee and deftly handling the slang + of the day and the locality with a childlike appreciation and an infantine + accent that seemed to redeem it from vulgarity or unfeminine boldness! Few + could resist the volatile infection of her presence. A smile was the only + tribute she exacted, and good-humor the rule laid down for her guests. If + it occasionally required some mental agility to respond to her banter, a + Californian gathering was, however, seldom lacking in humor. Yet she was + always the principal performer to an admiring audience. Perhaps there was + security in this multitude of admirers; perhaps there was a saving grace + in this humorous trifling. The passions are apt to be serious and + solitary, and Jovita evaded them with a jest,—which, if not always + delicate or witty, was effective in securing the laughter of the majority + and the jealousy of none. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the week another peculiarity was noticed. There was a + perceptible increase of the Mexican population, who had always hitherto + avoided Buckeye. On Sunday an Irish priest from El Pasto said mass in a + patched-up corner of the old Mission ruin opposite Rollinson's Ford. A few + lounging “Excelsior” boys were equally astonished to see Jovita's red rose + crest and black mantilla glide by, and followed her unvarying smile and + jesting salutation up to the shadow of the crumbling portal. At vespers + nearly all Buckeye, hitherto virtuously skeptical and good-humoredly + secure in Works without Faith, made a point of attending; it was alleged + by some to see if Jovita's glossy Indian-inky eyes would suffer aberration + in her devotions. But the rose-crested head was never lifted from the + well-worn prayer-book or the brown hands which held a certain poor little + cheap rosary like a child's string of battered copper coins. Buckeye + lounged by the wall through the service with respectful tolerance and + uneasy shifting legs, and came away. But the apparently simple event did + not end there. It was unconsciously charged with a tremendous import to + the settlement. For it was discovered the next day by Mrs. “Bob” Carpenter + and Nan Shuttleworth that the Methodist Church at Fiddletown was too far + away, and Buckeye ought to have a preacher of its own. Seats were fitted + up in the loft of Carpenter's store-house, where the Reverend Henry + McCorkle held divine service, and instituted a Bible class. At the end of + two weeks it appeared that Jovita's invasion—which was to bring + dissipation and ruin to Buckeye—had indirectly brought two churches! + A chilling doubt like a cold mist settled along the river. As the two + rival processions passed on the third Sunday, Jo Bateman, who had been in + the habit of reclining on that day in his shirtsleeves under a tree, with + a novel in his hand, looked gloomily after them. Then knocking the ashes + from his pipe, he rose, shook hands with his partners, said apologetically + that he had lately got into the habit of RESPECTING THE SABBATH, and was + too old to change again, and so shook the red dust of Buckeye from his + feet and departed. + </p> + <p> + As yet there had not been the slightest evidence of disorderly conduct on + the part of the fair proprietress of the tienda, nor her customers, nor + any drunkenness or riotous disturbance that could be at all attributed to + her presence. There was, it is true, considerable hilarity, smoking, and + some gambling there until a late hour, but this could not be said to + interfere with the rest and comfort of other people. A clue to the mystery + of so extraordinary a propriety was given by Jovita herself. One day she + walked into Parks' Emporium and demanded an interview with the proprietor. + </p> + <p> + “You have made the rules for thees Booki?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—that is—I and my friends have.” + </p> + <p> + “And when one shall not have mind the rule—when one have say, 'No! + damn the rule,' what shall you make to him? Shall you aprison him?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Parks hastened to say with a superior, yet engaging smile that it + never had been necessary, as the rules were obligatory upon the honor and + consent of all—and were never broken. “Except,” he added, still more + engagingly, “she would remember, in her case—with their consent.” + </p> + <p> + “And your caballeros break not the rules?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they shall not break the rules of me—at MY TIENDA! Look! I + have made the rule that I shall not have a caballero drunk at my house; I + have made the rule that I shall not sell him the aguardiente when he have + too mooch. I have made the rule that when he gamble too mooch, when he put + up too mooch money, I say 'No!' I will not that he shall! I make one more + rule: that he shall not quarrel nor fight in my house. When he quarrel and + fight, I say 'Go! Vamos! Get out!'” + </p> + <p> + “And very good rules they are too, Miss Mendez.” + </p> + <p> + Jovita fixed her shining black eyes on the smiling Parks. “And when he + say, 'No, nevarre, damn the rules!' When he come drunk, remain drunk, play + high and fight, YOU will not poonish him? YOU will not take him out?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, the fact is, I have not the power.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not the Alcalde?” + </p> + <p> + “No. There is a Justice of the Peace at Fiddletown, but even he could do + nothing to enforce your rules. But if anything should happen, you can make + a complaint to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Bueno. You have not the power; I have. I make not the complaint to + Fiddletown. I make the complaint to Jose Perez, to Manuel, to Antonio, to + Sanchicha—she is a strong one! I say 'Chook him out.' They chook him + out! they remove him! He does not r-r-remain. Enough. Bueno. Gracias, + senor, good-a-by!” + </p> + <p> + She was gone. For the next four days Parks was in a state of some anxiety—but + it appeared unnecessarily so. Whether the interview had become known along + the river did not transpire, but there seemed to be no reason for Miss + Mendez to enforce her rules. It was said that once, when Thompson of + Angels was a little too noisy, he had been quietly conducted by his + friends from the tienda without the intervention of Jose. The frequenters + of the saloon became its police. + </p> + <p> + Yet the event—long protracted—came at last! It was a dry, + feverish, breezeless afternoon, when the short, echoless explosion of a + revolver puffed out on the river, followed by another, delivered so + rapidly that they seemed rolled into one. There was no mistaking that + significant repetition. ONE shot might have been an accident; TWO meant + intention. The men dropped their picks and shovels and ran—ran as + they never before ran in Buckeye—ran mechanically, blindly groping + at their belts and pockets for the weapons that hung there no longer; ran + aimlessly, as to purpose, but following instinctively with hurried breath + and quivering nostrils the cruel scent of powder and blood. Ran until, + reaching the tienda, the foremost stumbled over the body of Shuttleworth; + came upon the half-sitting, half-leaning figure of Saunders against its + adobe wall! The doors were barred and closed, and even as the crowd + charged furiously forward, a window was sharply shut above, in their very + face. + </p> + <p> + “Stand back, gentlemen! Lift him up. What's the row? What is it, Saunders? + Who did it? Speak, man!” + </p> + <p> + But Saunders, who was still supporting himself against the wall, only + looked at them with a singular and half-apologetic smile, and then leaned + forward as if to catch the eye of Shuttleworth, who was recovering + consciousness in the uplifted arms of his companions. But neither spoke. + </p> + <p> + “It's some d——d Greaser inside!” said Thompson, with sudden + ferocity. “Some of her cursed crew! Break down the doors, boys!” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” + </p> + <p> + It was the voice of Shuttleworth, speaking with an effort. He was hard + hit, somewhere in the groin; pain and blood were coming with consciousness + and movement, and his face was ghastly. Yet there was the same singular + smile of embarrassment which Saunders had worn, and a touch of invincible + disgust in his voice as he stammered quickly, “Don't be d——d + fools! It's no one in THERE. It's only me and HIM! He'll tell you that. + Won't you, Saunders?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Saunders, leaning anxiously forward, with a brightening face. + “D—n it all—can't you see? It's only—only us.” + </p> + <p> + “You and me, that's all,” repeated Shuttleworth, with a feverish laugh. + “Only our d——d foolishness! Think of it, boys! He gave me the + lie, and I drew!” + </p> + <p> + “Both of us full, you know—reg'lar beasts,” said Saunders, sinking + back against the wall. “Kick me, somebody, and finish me off.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see any weapons here,” said Brace gravely, examining the ground. + </p> + <p> + “They're inside,” said Shuttleworth with tremulous haste. “We began it in + there—just like hogs, you know! Didn't we, Saunders?” bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “You bet,” said Saunders faintly. “Reg'lar swine.” + </p> + <p> + Parks looked graver still, and as he passed a handkerchief around the + wounded man's thigh, said: “But I don't see where you got your pistols, + and how you got out here.” + </p> + <p> + “Clinched, you know; sorter rolled over out here—and—and—oh, + d—n it—don't talk!” + </p> + <p> + “He means,” said Shuttleworth still feebly, “that we—we—grabbed + ANOTHER MAN'S six-shooter and—and—he that is—and they—he—he + and me grabbed each other, and—don't you see—?” but here, + becoming more involved and much weaker, he discreetly fainted away. + </p> + <p> + And that was all Buckeye ever knew of the affair! For they refused to + speak of it again, and Dr. Duchesne gravely forbade any further + interrogation. Both men's revolvers were found undischarged in their + holsters, hanging in their respective cabins. The balls which were + afterwards extracted from the two men singularly disappeared; Dr. Duchesne + asserting with a grim smile that they had swallowed them.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * It was a frontier superstition that the ball extracted + from a gunshot wound, if swallowed by the wounded man, + prevented inflammation or any supervening complications. +</pre> + <p> + Nothing could be ascertained of the facts at the tienda, which at that + hour of the day appeared to have been empty of customers, and was occupied + only by Miss Mendez and her retainers. All surmises as to the real cause + of the quarrel and the reason for the reticence of the two belligerents + were suddenly and unexpectedly stopped by their departure from Buckeye as + soon as their condition permitted, on the alleged opinion of Dr. Duchesne + that the air of the river was dangerous to their convalescence. The + momentary indignation against the tienda which the two combatants had + checked, eventually subsided altogether. After all, the fight had taken + place OUTSIDE; it was not even proven that the provocation had been given + AT the tienda! Its popularity was undiminished. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART_____"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART III. + </h2> + <p> + It was the end of the rainy season, and a wet night. Brace and Parks were + looking from the window over the swollen river, with faces quite as + troubled as the stream below. Nor was the prospect any longer the same. In + the past two years Buckeye had grown into a city. They could now count a + half dozen church spires from the window of the three-storied brick + building which had taken the place of the old wooden Emporium, but they + could also count the brilliantly lit windows of an equal number of saloons + and gambling-houses which glittered through the rain, or, to use the words + of a local critic, “Shone seven nights in the week to the Gospel shops' + ONE!” A difficulty had arisen which the two men had never dreamed of, and + a struggle had taken place between the two rival powers, which was + developing a degree of virulence and intolerance on both sides that boded + no good to Buckeye. The disease which its infancy had escaped had attacked + its adult growth with greater violence. The new American saloons which + competed with Jovita Mendez' Spanish venture had substituted a brutal + masculine sincerity for her veiled feminine methods. There was higher + play, deeper drinking, darker passion. Yet the opposition, after the + fashion of most reformers, were casting back to the origin of the trouble + in Jovita, and were confounding principles and growth. “If it had not been + for her the rule would never have been broken.” “If there was to be a + cleaning out of the gambling houses, she must go first!” + </p> + <p> + The sounds of a harp and a violin played in the nearest saloon struggled + up to them with the opening and shutting of its swinging baize inner + doors. There was boisterous chanting from certain belated revelers in the + next street which had no such remission. The brawling of the stream below + seemed to be echoed in the uneasy streets; the quiet of the old days had + departed with the sedate, encompassing woods that no longer fringed the + river bank; the restful calm of Nature had receded before the dusty + outskirts of the town. + </p> + <p> + “It's mighty unfortunate, too,” said Brace moodily, “that Shuttleworth and + Saunders, who haven't been in the place since their row, have come over + from Fiddletown to-day, and are banging around town. They haven't said + anything that I know of, but their PRESENCE is quite enough to revive the + old feeling against her shop. The Committee,” he added bitterly, “will be + sure to say that not only the first gambling, but the first shooting in + Buckeye took place there. If they get up that story again—no matter + how quiet SHE has become since—no matter what YOU may say as mayor—it + will go hard with her. What's that now?” + </p> + <p> + They listened breathlessly. Above the brawling of the river, the twanging + of the harp-player, and the receding shouts of the revelers, they could + hear the hollow wooden sidewalks resounding with the dull, monotonous + trampling of closely following feet. Parks rose with a white face. + </p> + <p> + “Brace!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Will you stand by me—and HER?” + </p> + <p> + “Stand by YOU AND HER? Eh? What? Good God! Parks!—you don't mean to + say you—it's gone as far as THAT?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you or won't you?” + </p> + <p> + The sound of the trampling had changed to a shuffling on the pavement + below, and then footsteps began to ascend the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Brace held out his hand quickly and grasped that of Parks as the door + opened to half a dozen men. They were evidently the ringleaders of the + crowd below. There was no hesitation or doubt in their manner; the + unswerving directness which always characterized those illegal + demonstrations lent it something of dignity. Nevertheless, Carpenter, the + spokesman, flushed slightly before Parks' white, determined face. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Parks, you know what we're after,” he said bluntly. “We didn't come + here to parley. We knew YOUR sentiments and what YOU think is your duty. + We know what we consider OURS—and so do you. But we're here to give + you a chance, either as mayor, or, if you prefer it, as the oldest citizen + here, to take a hand in our business to-night. We're not ashamed of what + we're going to do, and we're willing to abide by it; so there's no reason + why we shouldn't speak aboveboard of it to you. We even invite you to take + part in our last 'call' tonight at the Hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Go!” whispered Brace quickly, “YOU'LL GAIN TIME!” + </p> + <p> + Parks' face changed, and he turned to Carpenter. “Enough,” he said + gravely. “I reserve what I have to say of these proceedings till I join + you there.” He stopped, whispered a few words to Brace, and then + disappeared as the men descended the stairs, and, joining the crowd on the + pavement, proceeded silently towards the Town Hall. There was nothing in + the appearance of that decorous procession to indicate its unlawful + character or the recklessness with which it was charged. + </p> + <p> + There were thirty or forty men already seated in the Hall. The meeting was + brief and to the point. The gambling saloons were to be “cleaned out” that + night, the tables and appliances thrown into the street and burnt, the + doors closed, and the gamblers were to be conducted to the outskirts of + the town and forbidden to enter it again on pain of death. + </p> + <p> + “Does this yer refer to Jovita Mendez' saloon?” asked a voice. + </p> + <p> + To their surprise the voice was not Parks' but Shuttleworth's. It was also + a matter to be noted that he stood a little forward of the crowd, and that + there was a corresponding movement of a dozen or more men from Fiddletown + who apparently were part of the meeting. + </p> + <p> + The chairman (No. 10) said there was to be no exception, and certainly not + for the originator of disorder in Buckeye! He was surprised that the + question should be asked by No. 72, who was an old resident of Buckeye, + and who, with No. 73, had suffered from the character of that woman's + saloon. + </p> + <p> + “That's jest it,” said Shuttleworth, “and ez I reckon that SAUNDERS AND ME + did all the disorder there was, and had to turn ourselves out o' town on + account of it, I don't see jest where SHE could come into this affair. + Only,” he turned and looked around him, “in one way! And that way, + gentlemen, would be for her to come here and boot one half o' this kempany + out o' town, and shoot the other half! You hear me!—that's so!” He + stopped, tugged a moment at his cravat and loosened his shirt-collar as if + it impeded his utterance, and went on. “I've got to say suthin' to you + gentlemen about me and Saunders and this woman; I've got to say suthin' + that's hard for a white man to say, and him a married man, too—I've + got to say that me and Saunders never had no QU'OLL, never had NO FIGHT at + her shop: I've got to say that me and Saunders got shot by Jovita Mendez + for INSULTIN' HER—for tryin' to treat her as if she was the common + dirt of the turnpike—and served us right! I've got to say that + Saunders and me made a bet that for all her airs she wasn't no better than + she might be, and we went there drunk to try her—and that we got + left, with two shots into us like hounds as we were! That's so!—wasn't + it, Saunders?” + </p> + <p> + “With two shots inter us like hounds ez we were,” repeated Saunders with + deliberate precision. + </p> + <p> + “And I've got to say suthin' more, gen'lemen,” continued Shuttleworth, now + entirely removing his coat and vest, and apparently shaking himself free + from any extraneous trammels. “I've got to say this—I've got to say + that thar ain't a man in Buckeye, from Dirty Dick over yon to the mayor of + this town, ez hasn't tried the same thing on and got left—got left, + without shootin' maybe, more's the pity, but got left all the same! And + I've got to say,” lifting his voice, “THAT EF THAT'S WHAT YOU CALL + DISORDERLINESS IN HER—if that's what yo'r turnin' this woman out o' + town for—why”— + </p> + <p> + He stopped, absolutely breathless and gasping. For there was a momentary + shock of surprise and shame, and then he was overborne by peal after peal + of inextinguishable laughter. But it was the laughter that precipitated + doubt, enlightened justice, cleared confusion, and—saved them! + </p> + <p> + In vain a few struggled to remind them that the question of the OTHER + saloons was still unaffected. It was lost in the motion enthusiastically + put and carried that the Committee should instantly accompany Saunders and + Shuttleworth to Jovita's saloon to make an apology in their presence. Five + minutes later they halted hilariously before its door. But it was closed, + dark, and silent! + </p> + <p> + Their sudden onset and alarm brought Sanchicha to the half-opened door. + “Ah, yes! the Senorita? Bueno! She had just left for Fiddletown with the + Senor Parks, the honorable mayor. They had been married only a few moments + before by the Reverend Mr. McCorkle!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THEIR UNCLE FROM CALIFORNIA. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART______"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I. + </h2> + <p> + It was bitterly cold. When night fell over Lakeville, Wisconsin, the + sunset, which had flickered rather than glowed in the western sky, took + upon itself a still more boreal tremulousness, until at last it seemed to + fade away in cold blue shivers to the zenith. Nothing else stirred; in the + crisp still air the evening smoke of chimneys rose threadlike and + vanished. The stars were early, pale, and pitiless; when the later + moonlight fell, it appeared only to whiten the stiffened earth like snow, + except where it made a dull, pewter-like film over the three frozen lakes + which encompassed the town. + </p> + <p> + The site of the town itself was rarely beautiful, and its pioneers and + founders had carried out the suggestions they had found there with loving + taste and intelligence. + </p> + <p> + Themselves old voyageurs, trappers, and traders, they still loved Nature + too well to exclude her from the restful homes they had achieved after + years of toiling face to face with her. So a strip of primeval forest on + the one side, and rolling level prairie on the other, still came up to the + base of the hill, whereon they had built certain solid houses, which a + second generation had beautified and improved with modern taste, but which + still retained their old honesty of foundation and wholesome rustic space. + These yet stood among the old trees, military squares, and broad sloping + avenues of the town. Seen from the railway by day, the regularity of + streets and blocks was hidden by environing trees; there remained only a + picturesque lifting of rustic gardens, brown roofs, gables, spires, and + cupolas above the mirroring lake: seen from the railway this bitter night, + the invisible terraces and streets were now pricked out by symmetrical + lines and curves of sparkling lights, which glittered through the leafless + boughs and seemed to encircle the hill like a diadem. + </p> + <p> + Central in the chiefest square, and yet preserving its old lordly + isolation in a wooded garden, the homestead of Enoch Lane stood with all + its modern additions and improvements. Already these included not only the + latest phases of decoration, but various treasures brought by the second + generation from Europe, which they were wont to visit, but from which they + always contentedly returned to their little provincial town. Whether there + was some instinctive yearning, like the stirred sap of great forests, in + their wholesome pioneer blood, or whether there was some occult + fascination in the pretty town-crested hill itself, it was still certain + that the richest inhabitants always preferred to live in Lakeville. Even + the young, who left it to seek their fortune elsewhere, came back to enjoy + their success under the sylvan vaults of this vast ancestral roof. And + that was why, this 22d of December, 1870, the whole household of Gabriel + Lane was awaiting the arrival from California of his brother, Sylvester + Lane, at the old homestead which he had left twenty years ago. + </p> + <p> + “And you don't know how he looks?” said Kitty Lane to her father. + </p> + <p> + “I do, perfectly; rather chubby, with blue eyes, curly hair, fair skin, + and blushes when you speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa!” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?—Oh, well, he USED to. You see that was twenty-five years ago, + when he left here for boarding-school. He ran away from there, as I told + you; went to sea, and finally brought up at San Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + “And you haven't had any picture, or photograph of him, since?” + </p> + <p> + “No—that is—I say!—you haven't, any of you, got a + picture of Sylvester, have you?” he turned in a vague parenthetical appeal + to the company of relatives and friends collected in the drawing-room + after dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Cousin Jane has; she knows all about him!” + </p> + <p> + But it appeared that Cousin Jane had only heard Susan Marckland say that + Edward Bingham had told her that he was in California when “Uncle + Sylvester” had been nearly hanged by a Vigilance Committee for protecting + a horse thief or a gambler, or some such person. This was felt to be + ineffective as a personal description. + </p> + <p> + “He's sure to wear a big beard; they all do when they first come back,” + said Amos Gunn, with metropolitan oraculousness. + </p> + <p> + “He has a big curling mustache, long silken hair, and broad shoulders,” + said Marie du Page. + </p> + <p> + There was such piquant conviction in the manner of the speaker, who was + also a very pretty girl, that they all turned towards her, and Kitty + quickly said,— + </p> + <p> + “But YOU'VE never seen him?” + </p> + <p> + “No—but—” She stopped, and, lifting one shoulder, threw her + spirited head sideways, in a pretty deprecatory way, with elevated + eyebrows and an expression intended to show the otherwise untranslatable + character of her impression. But it showed quite as pleasantly the other + fact, that she was the daughter of a foreigner, an old French military + explorer, and that she had retained even in Anglo-Saxon Lakeville some of + the Gallic animation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, how many of you girls are going with me to meet him at the + station?” said Gabriel, dismissing with masculine promptness the lesser + question. “It's time to be off.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to go,” said Kitty, “and so would Cousin Jane; but really, papa, + you see if YOU don't know him, and WE don't either, and you've got to + satisfy yourself that it's the right man, and then introduce YOURSELF and + then us—and all this on the platform before everybody—it makes + it rather embarrassing for us. And then, as he's your younger brother and + we're supposed to be his affectionate nieces, you know, it would make HIM + feel SO ridiculous!” + </p> + <p> + “And if he were to KISS you,” said Marie tragically, “and then turn out + not to be him!” + </p> + <p> + “So,” continued Kitty, “you'd better take Cousin John, who was more in + Uncle Sylvester's time, to represent the Past of the family, and perhaps + Mr. Gunn”— + </p> + <p> + “To represent the future, I suppose?” interrupted Gabriel in a wicked + whisper. + </p> + <p> + “To represent a name that most men of the world in New York and San + Francisco know,” went on Kitty, without a blush. “It would make + recognition and introduction easier. And take an extra fur with you, dear—not + for HIM but for yourself. I suppose he's lived so much in the open air as + to laugh at our coddling.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that,” said her father thoughtfully; “the last + telegram I have from him, en route, says he's half frozen, and wants a + close carriage sent to the station.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Marie impatiently, “you forget the poor creature comes + from burning canyons and hot golden sands and perpetual sunshine.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; but come along, Marie, and see how I've prepared his room,” + and as her father left the drawing-room Kitty carried off her old + schoolfellow upstairs. + </p> + <p> + The room selected for the coming Sylvester had been one of the elaborate + guest-chambers, but was now stripped of its more luxurious furniture and + arranged with picturesque yet rural extravagance. A few rare buffalo, + bear, and panther skins were disposed over the bare floor, and even + displayed gracefully over some elaborately rustic chairs. The handsome + French bedstead had been displaced for a small wrought-iron + ascetic-looking couch covered with a gorgeously striped Mexican blanket. + The fireplace had been dismantled of its steel grate, and the hearth + extended so as to allow a pile of symmetrically heaped moss-covered + hickory logs to take its place. The walls were covered with trophies of + the chase, buck-horns and deer-heads, and a number of Indian arrows stood + in a sheaf in the corners beside a few modern guns and rifles. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly lovely,” said Marie, “but”—with a slight shiver of her + expressive shoulders—“a little cold and outdoorish, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” returned Kitty dictatorially, “and if he IS cold, he can + easily light those logs. They always build their open fires under a tree. + Why, even Mr. Gunn used to do that when he was camping out in the + Adirondacks last summer. I call it perfectly comfortable and SO natural.” + Nevertheless, they had both tucked their chilly hands under the fleecy + shawls they had snatched from the hall for this hyperborean expedition. + </p> + <p> + “You have taken much pains for him, Kaitee,” said Marie, with her faintest + foreign intonation. “You will like this strange uncle—you?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a wonderful man, Marie; he's been everywhere, seen everything, and + done everything out there. He's fought duels, been captured by Indians and + tied to a stake to be tortured. He's been leader of a Vigilance Committee, + and they say that he has often shot and killed men himself. I'm afraid + he's been rather wicked, you know. He's lived alone in the woods like a + hermit without seeing a soul, and then, again, he's been a chief among the + Indians, with Heaven knows how many Indian wives! They called him 'The + Pale-faced Thunderbolt,' my dear, and 'The Young Man who Swallows the + Lightning,' or something like that.” + </p> + <p> + “And what can he want here?” asked Marie. + </p> + <p> + “To see us, my dear,” said Kitty loftily; “and then, too, he has to settle + something about HIS share of the property; for you know grandpa left a + share of it to him. Not that he's ever bothered himself about it, for he's + rich,—a kind of Monte Cristo, you know,—with a gold mine and + an island off the coast, to say nothing of a whole county that he owns, + that is called after him, and millions of wild cattle that he rides among + and lassos! It's dreadfully hard to do. You know you take a long rope with + a slipknot, and you throw it around your head so, and”— + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” said Marie, with a dramatic start, and her finger on her small + mouth, “he comes!” + </p> + <p> + There was the clear roll of wheels along the smooth, frozen carriage sweep + towards the house, the sharp crisp click of hoofs on stone, the opening of + heavy doors, the sudden sparkling invasion of frigid air, the uplifting of + voices in greeting,—but all familiar! There were Gabriel Lane's + cheery, hopeful tones, the soprano of Cousin Jane and Cousin Emma, the + baritone of Mr. Gunn, and the grave measured oratorical utterance of + Parson Dexter, who had joined the party at the station; but certainly the + accents of no STRANGER. Had he come? Yes, for his name was just then + called, and the quick ear of Marie had detected a light, lounging, alien + footstep cross the cold strip of marble vestibule. The two girls exchanged + a rapid glance; each looked into the mirror, and then interrogatively at + the other, nodded their heads affirmatively, and descended to the + drawing-room. A group had already drawn round the fire, and a small + central figure, who, with its back turned towards them, was still + enwrapped in an enormous overcoat of rich fur, was engaged in presenting + an alternate small varnished leather boot to the warmth of the grate. As + they entered the room the heavy fur was yielded up with apparent + reluctance, and revealed to the astonished girls a man of ordinary stature + with a slight and elegant figure set off by a traveling suit of + irreproachable cut. His light reddish-yellow hair, mustache, and sunburned + cheek, which seemed all of one color and outline, made it impossible to + detect the gray of the one or the hollowness of the other, and gave no + indication of his age. Yet there was clearly no mistake. Here was Gabriel + Lane seizing their nervously cold fingers and presenting them to their + “Uncle Sylvester.” + </p> + <p> + Far from attempting to kiss Kitty, the stranger for an instant seemed + oblivious of the little hand she offered him in the half-preoccupied bow + he gave her. But Marie was not so easily passed over, and, with her + audacious face challenging his, he abstractedly imparted to the shake of + her hand something of the fervor that he should have shown his relative. + And, then, still warming his feet on the fender, he seemed to have + forgotten them both. + </p> + <p> + “Accustomed as you have been, sir,” said the Reverend Mr. Dexter, seizing + upon an awkward silence, and accenting it laboriously, “perhaps I should + say INURED as you have been to the exciting and stirring incidents of a + lawless and adventurous community, you doubtless find in a pastoral, yet + cultivated and refined, seclusion like Lakeville a degree of”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, several degrees,” said Uncle Sylvester, blandly flicking bits of + buffalo hair from his well-fitting trousers; “it's colder, you know—much + colder.” + </p> + <p> + “I was referring to a less material contrast,” continued Mr. Dexter, with + a resigned smile; “yet, as to the mere question of cold, I am told, sir, + that in California there are certain severe regions of altitude—although + the mean temperature”— + </p> + <p> + “I suppose out in California you fellows would say our temperature was a + darned sight MEANER, eh?” broke in Amos Gunn, with a confidential glance + at the others, as if offering a humorous diversion suited to the + Californian taste. Uncle Sylvester did not, however, smile. Gazing + critically at Gunn, he said thoughtfully: “I think not; I've even known + men killed for saying less than that,” and turned to the clergyman. “You + are quite right; some of the higher passes are very cold. I was lost in + one of them in '56 with a small party. We were seventy miles from any + settlement, we had had nothing to eat for thirty-six hours; our campfire, + melting the snow, sank twelve feet below the surface.” The circle closed + eagerly around him, Marie, Kitty, and Cousin Jane pressing forward with + excited faces; even the clergyman assumed an expression of profound + interest. “A man by the name of Thompson, I think,” continued Uncle + Sylvester, thoughtfully gazing at the fire, “was frozen a few yards away. + Towards morning, having been fifty-eight hours without food, our last drop + of whiskey exhausted, and the fire extinguished, we found”— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” said half a dozen voices. + </p> + <p> + “We found,” continued Uncle Sylvester, rubbing his hands cheerfully, “we + found it—exceedingly cold. Yes—EXCEEDINGLY cold!” + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence. + </p> + <p> + “But you escaped!” said Kitty breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “I think so. I think we all escaped—that is, except Thompson, if his + name WAS Thompson; it might have been Parker,” continued Uncle Sylvester, + gazing with a certain languid astonishment on the eager faces around him. + </p> + <p> + “But HOW did you escape?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, somehow! I don't remember exactly. I don't think,” he went on + reflectively, “that we had to eat Thompson—if it was HIM—at + least not then. No”—with a faint effort of recollection—“that + would have been another affair. Yes,” assuringly to the eager, frightened + eyes of Cousin Jane, “you are quite right, that was something altogether + different. Dear me; one quite mixes up these things. Eh?” + </p> + <p> + A servant had entered, and after a hurried colloquy with Gabriel, the + latter turned to Uncle Sylvester— + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, but I think there must be some mistake! We brought up your + luggage with you—two trunks—in the station wagon. A man has + just arrived with three more, which he says are yours.” + </p> + <p> + “There should be five in all, I think,” said Uncle Sylvester thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe there are, sir, I didn't count exactly,” said the servant. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Uncle Sylvester cheerfully, turning to his brother. “You + can put them in my room or on the landing, except two marked 'L' in a + triangle. They contain some things I picked up for you and the girls. + We'll look them over in the morning. And, if you don't mind, I'll excuse + myself now and go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “But it's only half past ten,” said Gabriel remonstratingly. “You don't, + surely, go to bed at half past ten?” + </p> + <p> + “I do when I travel. Travel is SO exhausting. Good-night! Don't let + anybody disturb themselves to come with me.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed languidly to the company, and disappeared with a yawn gracefully + disguised into a parting smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” said Cousin Jane, drawing a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it's your Uncle Sylvester at all!” said Marie + vivaciously. “It's some trick that Gabriel is playing upon us. And he's + not even a good actor—he forgets his part.” + </p> + <p> + “And, then, five trunks for one single man! Heavens! what can he have in + them” said Cousin Emma. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps his confederates, to spring out upon us at night, after + everybody's asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you remembered him, papa?” said Kitty sotto voce. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. And, my dear child, he knows all the family history as well as + you do; and”—continued her father with a slight laugh that did not, + however, conceal a certain seriousness that was new to him—“I only + wish I understood as much about the property as he does. By the way, + Amos,” he broke off suddenly, turning to the young man, “he seemed to know + your people.” + </p> + <p> + “Most men in the financial world do,” said Gunn a little superciliously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he asked me if you hadn't a relative of some kind in Southern + California or Mexico.” + </p> + <p> + A slight flush—so slight that only the keen, vivaciously observant + eyes of Marie noticed it—passed over the young man's face. + </p> + <p> + “I believe it is a known fact that our branch of the family never + emigrated from their native town,” he said emphatically. “The Gunns were + rather peculiar and particular in that respect.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there were no offshoots from the old STOCK,” said Gabriel. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, this pet joke of Gabriel's did not dissipate the constraint + and disappointment left upon the company by Uncle Sylvester's unsatisfying + performance and early withdrawal, and they separated soon after, Kitty and + Marie being glad to escape upstairs together. On the landing they met two + of the Irish housemaids in a state of agitated exhaustion. It appeared + that the “sthrange gintleman” had requested that his bed be remade from + bedclothes and bedding ALWAYS CARRIED WITH HIM IN HIS TRUNKS! From their + apologetic tone it was evident that he had liberally rewarded them. + “Shure, Miss,” protested Norah, in deprecation of Kitty's flashing eye, + “there's thim that's lived among shnakes and poysin riptiles and faverous + disayses that's particklar av the beds and sheets they lie on. Hisht! + Howly Mother! it's something else he's wanting now!” + </p> + <p> + The door of Uncle Sylvester's room had slowly opened, and a blue pyjama'd + sleeve appeared, carefully depositing the sheaf of bows and arrows outside + the door. “I say, Norah, or Bridget there, some of you take those infernal + things away. And look out, will you, for the arrowheads are deadly poison. + The fool who got 'em didn't know they were African, and not Indian at all! + And hold on!” The hand vanished, and presently reappeared holding two + rifles. “And take these away, too! They're loaded, capped, and NOT on the + half-cock! A jar, a fall, the slightest shock is enough to send them off!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm dreadfully sorry that you should find it so uncomfortable in our + house, Uncle Sylvester,” said Kitty, with a flushed cheek and vibrating + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you—is it?” said Uncle Sylvester's voice cheerfully. “I + thought it was Bridget out there. No, I don't intend to find it + uncomfortable. That's why I'm putting these things outside. But, for + Heaven's sake, don't YOU touch them. Leave that to the ineffable ass who + put them there. Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + The door closed; the whispering voices of the girls faded from the + corridor; the lights were lowered in the central hall, only the red + Cyclopean eye of an enormous columnar stove, like a lighthouse, gleamed + through the darkness. Outside, the silent night sparkled, glistened, and + finally paled. Towards morning, having invested the sturdy wooden outer + walls of the house and filmed with delicate tracery every available inch + of window pane, it seemed stealthily to invade the house itself, stilling + and chilling it as it drew closer around its central heart of warmth and + life. Only once the frigid stillness was broken by the opening of a door + and steps along the corridor. This was preceded by an acrid smell of + burning bark. + </p> + <p> + It was subtle enough to permeate the upper floor and the bedroom of Marie + du Page, who was that night a light and nervous sleeper. Peering from her + door, she could see, on the lower corridor, the extraordinary spectacle of + Uncle Sylvester, robed in a gorgeous Japanese dressing-gown of quilted + satin trimmed with the fur of the blue fox, candle in hand, leisurely + examining the wall of the passage. Presently, drawing out a footrule from + his pocket, he actually began to measure it! Miss Du Page saw no more. + Hurriedly closing her door, she locked and bolted it, firmly convinced + that Gabriel Lane was harboring in the guise of Uncle Sylvester a + somnambulist, a maniac, or an impostor. + </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> + “It doesn't seem as if Uncle Sylvester was any the more comfortable for + having his own private bedding with him,” said Kitty Lane, entering + Marie's room early the next morning. “Bridget found him curled up in his + furs like a cat asleep on the drawing-room sofa this morning.” + </p> + <p> + Marie started; she remembered her last night's vision. But some instinct—she + knew not what—kept her from revealing it at this moment. She only + said a little ironically:— + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he missed the wild freedom of his barbaric life in a small + bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Bridget says he said something about being smoked out of his room by + a ridiculous wood fire. The idea! As if a man brought up in the woods + couldn't stand a little smoke. No—that's his excuse! Marie!—do + you know what I firmly believe?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Marie quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I firmly believe that poor man is ashamed of his past rough life, and + does everything he can to forget it. That's why he affects those + ultra-civilized and effeminate ways, and goes to the other extreme, as + people always do.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think he's really reformed, and isn't likely to take an impulse + to rob and murder anybody again?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Marie, what nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, Uncle Sylvester appeared quite fresh and cheerful at + breakfast. It seemed that he had lit the fire before undressing, but the + green logs were piled so far into the room that the smoke nearly + suffocated him. Fearful of alarming the house by letting the smoke escape + through the door, he opened the window, and when it had partly dispersed, + sought refuge himself from the arctic air of his bedroom in the + drawing-room. So far the act did not seem inconsistent with his sanity, or + even intelligence and consideration for others. But Marie fixed upon him a + pair of black, audacious eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever walk in your sleep, Mr. Lane?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but”—thoughtfully breaking an egg—“I have ridden, I + think.” + </p> + <p> + “In your sleep? Oh, do tell us all about it!” said Cousins Jane and Emma + in chorus. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester cast a resigned glance out of the window. “Oh, yes—certainly; + it isn't much. You see at one time I was in the habit of making long + monotonous journeys, and they were often exhausting, and,” he added, + becoming wearied as if at the recollection, “always dreadfully tiresome. + As the trail was sometimes very uncertain and dangerous, I rode a very + surefooted mule that could go anywhere where there was space big enough to + set her small hoofs upon. One night I was coming down the slope of a + mountain towards a narrow valley and river that were crossed by an old, + abandoned flume, of which nothing was now left but the upright + trestle-work and long horizontal string-piece. As the trail was very + difficult and the mule's pace was slow, I found myself dozing at times, + and at last I must have fallen asleep. I think I must have been awakened + by a singular regularity in the movement of the mule—or else it was + the monotony of step that had put me to sleep and the cessation of it + awakened me. You see, at first I was not certain that I wasn't really + dreaming. For the trail seemed to have disappeared; the wall of rock on + one side had vanished also, and there appeared to be nothing ahead of me + but the opposite hillside.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester stopped to look out of the window at a passing carriage. + Then he went on. “The moon came out, and I saw what had happened. The + mule, either of her own free will, or obeying some movement I had given + the reins in my sleep, had swerved from the trail, got on top of the + flume, and was actually walking across the valley on the narrow + string-piece, a foot wide, half a mile long, and sixty feet from the + ground. I knew,” he continued, examining his napkin thoughtfully, “that + she was perfectly surefooted, and that if I kept quiet she could make the + passage, but I suddenly remembered that midway there was a break and gap + of twenty feet in the continuous line, and that the string-piece was too + narrow to allow her to turn round and retrace her steps.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” said Cousin Jane. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon?” said Uncle Sylvester politely. + </p> + <p> + “I only said, 'Good heavens!' Well?” she added impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” repeated Uncle Sylvester vaguely. “Oh, that's all. I only wanted + to explain what I meant by saying I had ridden in my sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Cousin Jane, leaning across the table with grim deliberation + and emphasizing each word with the handle of her knife, “how—did—you—and—that—mule + get down?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, with slings and ropes, you know—so,” demonstrating by placing + his napkin-ring in a sling made of his napkin. + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you carried the slings and ropes with you in your five + trunks!” gasped Cousin Jane. + </p> + <p> + “No. Fellows on the river brought 'em in the morning. Mighty spry chaps, + those river miners.” + </p> + <p> + “Very!” said Cousin Jane. + </p> + <p> + Breakfast over, they were not surprised that their sybaritic guest excused + himself from an inspection of the town in the frigid morning air, and + declined joining a skating party to the lake on the ground that he could + keep warmer indoors with half the exertion. An hour later found him + standing before the fire in Gabriel Lane's study, looking languidly down + on his elder brother. + </p> + <p> + “Then, as far as I can see,” he said quietly, “you have made ducks and + drakes of your share of the property, and that virtually you are in the + hands of this man Gunn and his father.” + </p> + <p> + “You're putting it too strongly,” said Gabriel deprecatingly. “In the + first place, my investments with Gunn's firm are by no means failures, and + they only hold as security a mortgage on the forest land below the hill. + It's scarcely worth the money. I would have sold it long ago, but it had + been a fancy of father's to keep it wild land for the sake of old times + and the healthiness of the town.” + </p> + <p> + “There used to be a log cabin there, where the old man had a habit of + camping out whenever he felt cramped by civilization up here, wasn't + there?” said Uncle Sylvester meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Gabriel impatiently; “it's still there—but to return to + Mr. Gunn. He has taken a fancy to Kitty, and even if I could not lift the + mortgage, there's some possibility that the land would still remain in the + family.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I'll drive over this afternoon and take a look at the old shanty + if this infernal weather lets up.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but just now, my dear Sylvester, let us attend to business. I want + to show you those investments.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly; trot 'em out,” said his brother, plucking up a simulation + of interest as he took a seat at the table. + </p> + <p> + From a drawer of his desk Gabriel brought out a bundle of prospectuses and + laid them before Uncle Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + A languid smile of recognition lit up the latter's face. “Ah! yes,” he + said, glancing at them. “The old lot: 'Carmelita,' 'Santa Maria,' and + 'Preciosa!' Just as I imagined—and yet who'd have thought of seeing + them HERE! A good deal rouged and powdered, Miss Carmelita, since I first + knew you! Considerably bolstered up by miraculous testimony to your + powers, my dear Santa Maria, since the day I found you out, to my cost! + And you too, Preciosa!—a precious lot of money I dropped on you in + the old days!” + </p> + <p> + “You are joking,” said Gabriel, with an uneasy smile. “You don't mean to + imply that this stock is old and worthless?” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't a capital in America or Europe where for the last five years + it hasn't been floated with a new character each time. My dear Gabriel, + that stock isn't worth the paper it is printed on.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is impossible that an experienced financier like Gunn could be + deceived!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry to hear THAT.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Sylvester! confess you've taken a prejudice against Gunn from your + sudden dislike of his son! And what have you against him?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't say exactly,” said Uncle Sylvester reflectively. “It may be + his eyes, or only his cravat! But,” rising cheerfully and placing his hand + lightly on his brother's shoulder, “don't YOU worry yourself about that + stock, old man; I'LL see that somebody else has the worry and you the + cash. And as to the land and—Kitty—well, you hold on to them + both until you find out which the young man is really after.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” said Gabriel, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Don't give him either! But, I say, haven't we had enough business this + morning? Let's talk of something else. Who's the French girl?” + </p> + <p> + “Marie? She's the daughter of Jules du Page—don't you remember?—father's + friend. When Jules died, it was always thought that father, who had half + adopted her as a child, would leave her some legacy. But you know that + father died without making a will, and that—rich as he was—his + actual assets were far less than we had reason to expect. Kitty, who felt + the disappointment as keenly as her friend, I believe would have divided + her own share with her. It's odd, by the way, that father could have been + so deceived in the amount of his capital, or how he got rid of his money + in a way that we knew nothing of. Do you know, Sylvester, I've sometimes + suspected”— + </p> + <p> + “What?” said Uncle Sylvester suddenly. + </p> + <p> + The bored languor of his face had abruptly vanished. Every muscle was + alert; his gray eyes glittered. + </p> + <p> + “That he advanced money to Du Page, who lost it, or that they speculated + together,” returned Gabriel, who, following Uncle Sylvester's voice only, + had not noticed the change of expression. + </p> + <p> + “That would seem to be a weakness of the Lane family,” said Uncle + Sylvester grimly, with a return of his former carelessness. “But that is + not YOUR own opinion—that's a suggestion of some one else?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Gabriel, with a laugh and a slight addition of color, “it WAS + Gunn's theory. As a man of the world and a practical financier, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “And you've talked with HIM about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It was a matter of general wonder years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely—but, just now, don't you think we've had enough + financial talk?” said Uncle Sylvester, with a bored contraction of his + eyebrows. “Come,” looking around the room, “you've changed the interior of + the old house.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Unfortunately, just after father's death it was put in the hands of + a local architect or builder, one of father's old friends, but not a very + skillful workman, who made changes while the family were away. That's why + your present bedroom, which was father's old study, had a slice taken off + it to make the corridor larger, and why the big chimney and hearthstone + are still there, although the fireplace is modernized. That was Flint's + stupidity.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose stupidity?” asked Uncle Sylvester, trimming his nails. + </p> + <p> + “Flint's—the old architect.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you make him change it back again?” + </p> + <p> + “He left Lakeville shortly after, and I brought an architect from St. + Louis after I returned from Europe. But nothing could be done to your room + without taking down the chimney, so it remained as Flint left it.” + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me, Gabriel, I'm afraid I spoke rather cavalierly to Kitty, + last night, about the arrangements of the room. The fact is, I've taken a + fancy to it, and should like to fit it up myself. Have I your permission?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, my dear Sylvester.” + </p> + <p> + “I've some knickknacks in my trunks, and I'll do it at once.” + </p> + <p> + “As you like.” + </p> + <p> + “And you'll see that I am not disturbed; and you'll explain it to Kitty, + with my apologies?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'm off.” + </p> + <p> + Gabriel glanced at his brother with a perplexed smile. Here was the bored + traveler, explorer, gold-seeker, soldier of fortune, actually as pleased + as a girl over the prospect of arranging his room! He called after him, + “Sylvester!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, if you could, you know, just try to interest these people to-night + with some of your adventures—something told SERIOUSLY, you know, as + if you really were in earnest—I'd be awfully obliged to you. The + fact is,—you'll excuse me,—but they think you don't come up to + your reputation.” + </p> + <p> + “They want a story?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—one of your experiences.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll give them one. Ta-ta!” + </p> + <p> + For the rest of the day Uncle Sylvester was invisible, although his active + presence in his room was betrayed by the sound of hammering and moving of + furniture. As the remainder of the party were skating on the lake, this + eccentricity was not remarked except by one,—Marie du Page,—who + on pretense of a slight cold had stayed at home. But with her suspicions + of the former night, she had determined to watch the singular relative of + her friend. Added to a natural loyalty to the Lanes, she was moved by a + certain curiosity and fascination towards this incomprehensible man. + </p> + <p> + The house was very quiet when she stole out of her room and passed softly + along the corridor; she examined the wall carefully to discover anything + that might have excited the visitor's attention. There were a few large + engravings hanging there; could he have designed to replace them by some + others? Suddenly she was struck with the distinct conviction that the wall + of the corridor did not coincide with the wall of his room as represented + by the line of the door. There was certainly a space between the two walls + unaccounted for. This was undoubtedly what had attracted HIS attention; + but what BUSINESS was it of his? + </p> + <p> + She reflected that she had seen in the wall of the conservatory an old + closed staircase, now used as shelves for dried herbs and seeds, which she + had been told was the old-time communication between the garden and + Grandfather Lane's study,—the room now occupied by the stranger. + Perhaps it led still farther, and thus accounted for the space. Determined + to satisfy herself, she noiselessly descended to the conservatory. There, + surely, was the staircase,—a narrow flight of wooden steps + encumbered with packages of herbs,—losing itself in upper darkness. + By the aid of a candle she managed to grope and pick her way up step by + step. Then she paused. The staircase had abruptly ended on the level of + the study, now cut off from it by the new partition. She was in a stifling + inclosure, formed by the walls, scarcely eighteen inches wide. It was made + narrower by a singular excrescence on the old wall, which seemed to have + been a bricked closet, now half destroyed and in ruins. She turned to + descend, when a strange sound from Uncle Sylvester's room struck her ear. + It was the sound of tapping on the floor close to the partition, within a + foot of where she was standing. At the same moment there was a decided + movement of the plank of the flooring beneath the partition: it began to + slide slowly, and then was gradually withdrawn into the room. With prompt + presence of mind, she instantly extinguished her candle and drew herself + breathlessly against the partition. + </p> + <p> + When the plank was entirely withdrawn, a ray of light slipped through the + opening, revealing the bare rafters of the floor, and a hand and arm + inserted under the partition, groping as if towards the bricked closet. As + the fingers of the exploring hand were widely extended, Marie had no + difficulty in recognizing on one of them a peculiar signet ring which + Uncle Sylvester wore. A swift impulse seized her. To the audacious Marie + impulse and action were the same thing. Bending stealthily over the + aperture, she suddenly snatched the ring from the extended finger. The + hand was quickly withdrawn with a start and uncontrolled exclamation, and + she availed herself of that instant to glide rapidly down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + She regained her room stealthily, having the satisfaction a moment later + of hearing Uncle Sylvester's door open and the sound of his footsteps in + the corridor. But he was evidently unable to discover any outer ingress to + the inclosure, or believed the loss of his ring an accident, for he + presently returned. Meantime, what was she to do? + </p> + <p> + Tell Kitty of her discovery, and show the ring? No—not yet! Oddly + enough, now that she had the ring, taken from his wicked finger in the + very act, she found it as difficult as ever to believe in his burglarious + design. She must wait. The mischief—if there had been mischief—was + done; the breaking in of the bricked closet was, from the appearance of + the ruins, a bygone act. Could it have been some youthful escapade of + Uncle Sylvester's, the scene of which he was revisiting as criminals are + compelled to do? And had there been anything taken from the closet—or + was its destruction a part of the changes in the old house? How could she + find out without asking Kitty? There was one way. She remembered that Mr. + Gunn had once shown a great deal of interest to Kitty about the old + homestead, and even of old Mr. Lane's woodland cabin. She would ask HIM. + It was a friendly act, for Kitty had not of late been very kind to him. + </p> + <p> + The opportunity presented itself at dusk, as Mr. Gunn, somewhat + abstracted, stood apart at the drawing-room window. Marie hoped he had + enjoyed himself while skating; her stupid cold had kept her indoors. She + had amused herself rambling about the old homestead; it was such a queer + place, so full of old nooks and corners and unaccountable spaces. Just the + place, she would think, where old treasures might have been stored. Eh? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gunn had not spoken—he had only coughed. But in the darkness his + eyes were fixed angrily on her face. Without observing it, she went on. + She knew he was interested in the old house; she had heard him talk to + Kitty about it: had Kitty ever said anything about some old secret + hoarding place? + </p> + <p> + No, certainly not! And she was mistaken, he never was interested in the + house! He could not understand what had put that idea in her head! Unless + it was this ridiculous, shady stranger in the guise of an uncle whom they + had got there. It was like his affectation! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, no,” said Marie, with unmistakable truthfulness, “HE did not + say anything. But,” with sudden inconsistent aggression, “is THAT the way + you speak to Kitty of her uncle?” + </p> + <p> + Really he didn't know—he was joking only, and he was afraid he must + just now ask her to excuse him. He had received letters that made it + possible that he might be called suddenly to New York at any moment. Marie + stared. It was evident that he had proposed to Kitty and been rejected! + But she was no nearer her discovery. + </p> + <p> + Nor was there the least revelation in the calm, half-bored, yet + good-humored presence of the wicked uncle at dinner. So indifferent did he + seem, not only to his own villainy but even to the loss it had entailed, + that she had a wild impulse to take the ring from her pocket and display + it on her own finger before him then and there. But the conviction that he + would in some way be equal to the occasion prevented her. The dinner + passed off with some constraint, no doubt emanating from the conscious + Kitty and Gunn. Nevertheless, when they had returned to the drawing-room, + Gabriel rubbed his hands expectantly. + </p> + <p> + “I prevailed on Sylvester this morning to promise to tell us some of his + experiences—something COMPLETE and satisfactory this time. Eh?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester, warming his cold blood before the fire, looked + momentarily forgetful and—disappointing. Cousins Jane and Emma + shrugged their shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Eh,” said Uncle Sylvester absently, “er—er—oh yes! Well” + (more cheerfully), “about what, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Let it be,” said Marie pointedly, fixing her black magnetic eyes on the + wicked stranger, “let it be something about the DISCOVERY of gold, or a + buried TREASURE HOARD, or a robbery.” + </p> + <p> + To her intense disgust Uncle Sylvester, far from being discomfited or + confused, actually looked pleased, and his gray eyes thawed slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” he said. “Well, then! Down on the San Joaquin River there was + an old chap—one of the earliest settlers—in fact, he'd come on + from Oregon before the gold discovery. His name, dear me!”—continued + Uncle Sylvester, with an effort of memory and apparently beginning already + to lose his interest in the story—“was—er—Flint.” + </p> + <p> + As Uncle Sylvester paused here, Cousin Jane broke in impatiently. “Well, + that's not an uncommon name. There was an old carpenter here in your + father's time who was called Flint.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Uncle Sylvester languidly. “But there is, or was, something + uncommon about it—and that's the point of the story, for in the old + time Flint and Gunn were of the same stock.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this a Californian joke?” said Gunn, with a forced smile on his + flushed face. “If so, spare me, for it's an old one.” + </p> + <p> + “It's much older HISTORY, Mr. Gunn,” said Uncle Sylvester blandly, “which + I remember from a boy. When the first Flint traded near Sault Sainte + Marie, the Canadian voyageurs literally translated his name into Pierre a + Fusil, and he went by that name always. But when the English superseded + the French in numbers and language the name was literally translated back + again into 'Peter Gunn,' which his descendants bear.” + </p> + <p> + “A labored form of the old joke,” said Gunn, turning contemptuously away. + </p> + <p> + “But the story,” said Cousins Jane and Emma. “The story of the gold + discovery—never mind the names.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” said Uncle Sylvester, placing his hand in the breast of his + coat with a delightful exaggeration of offended dignity. “But, doubts + having been cast upon my preliminary statement, I fear I must decline + proceeding further.” Nevertheless, he smiled unblushingly at Miss Du Page + as he followed Gunn from the room. + </p> + <p> + The next morning those who had noticed the strained relations of Miss + Kitty and Mr. Gunn were not surprised that the latter was recalled on + pressing business to New York by the first train; but it was a matter of + some astonishment to Gabriel Lane and Marie du Page that Uncle Sylvester + should have been up early, and actually accompanied that gentleman as far + as the station! Indeed, the languid explorer and gold-seeker exhibited + remarkable activity, and, clad in a rough tourist suit, announced, over + the breakfast-table, his intention of taking a long tramp through the + woods, which he had not revisited since a boy. To this end he had even + provided himself with a small knapsack, and for once realized Kitty's + ideal of his character. + </p> + <p> + “Don't go too far,” said Gabriel, “for, although the cold has moderated, + the barometer is falling fast, and there is every appearance of snow. Take + care you are not caught in one of our blizzards.” + </p> + <p> + “But YOU are all going on the lake to skate!” protested Uncle Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; for the very reason that it may be our last chance; but should it + snow we shall be nearer home than you may be.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when it came on to snow, as Gabriel had predicted, the + skating party was by no means so near home as he had imagined. A shrewd + keenness and some stimulating electric condition of the atmosphere had + tempted the young people far out on the lake, and they had ignored the + first fall of fine grayish granulations that swept along the icy surface + like little puffs of dust or smoke. Then the fall grew thicker, the gray + sky contracted, the hurrying flakes, dashed against them by a fierce + northwester, were larger, heavier, and seemed an almost palpable force + that held them back. Their skates, already clogged with drift, were + beginning to be useless. The bare wind-swept spaces were becoming rarer; + they could only stumble on blindly towards the nearest shore. Nor when + they reached it were they yet safe; they could scarcely stand against the + still increasing storm that was fast obliterating the banks and stretch of + meadow beyond. Their only hope of shelter was the range of woods that + joined the hill. Holding hands in single file, the little party, + consisting of Kitty, Marie, and Cousins Jane and Emma—stout-hearted + Gabriel leading and Cousin John bringing up the rear—at last + succeeded in reaching it, and were rejoiced to find themselves near old + Lane's half-ruined cabin. To their added joy and astonishment, whiffs of + whirling smoke were issuing from the crumbling chimney. They ran to the + crazy door, pushed aside its weak fastening, and found—Uncle + Sylvester calmly enjoying a pipe before a blazing fire. A small pickaxe + and crowbar were lying upon a mound of freshly turned earth beside the + chimney, where the rotten flooring had been torn up. + </p> + <p> + The tumultuous entrance of the skating party required no explanation; but + when congratulations had been exchanged, the wet snow shaken off, and they + had drawn round the fire, curious eyes were cast upon the solitary + occupant and the pile of earth and debris before him. + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said Gabriel laughingly, “that you have been so bored here + that you have actually played at gold-hunting for amusement.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester took the pipe from his mouth and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It's a common diversion of yours,” said Marie audaciously. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester smiled sweetly. + </p> + <p> + “And have you been successful THIS TIME?” asked Marie. + </p> + <p> + “I got the color.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester rose and placed himself with his back to the fire, gently + surveying the assembled group. + </p> + <p> + “I was interrupted in a story of gold-digging last evening,” he said + blandly. “How far had I got?” + </p> + <p> + “You were down on the San Joaquin River in the spring of '50, with a chap + named Flint,” chorused Cousins Jane and Emma promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes,” said Uncle Sylvester. “Well, in those days there was a scarcity + of money in the diggings. Gold dust there was in plenty, but no COIN. You + can fancy it was a bother to weigh out a pinch of dust every time you + wanted a drink of whiskey or a pound of flour; but there was no other + legal tender. Pretty soon, however, a lot of gold and silver pieces found + their way into circulation in our camp and the camps around us. They were + foreign—old French and English coins. Here's one of them that I + kept.” He took from his pocket a gold coin and handed it to Gabriel. + </p> + <p> + Lane rose to his feet with an exclamation: + </p> + <p> + “Why, this is like the louis-d'or that grandfather saved through the war + and gave to father.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Sylvester took the coin back, placed it in his left eye, like a + monocle, and winked gravely at the company. + </p> + <p> + “It is the SAME!” he went on quietly. “I was interested, for I had a good + memory, and I remembered that, as a boy, grandfather had shown me one of + those coins and told me he was keeping them for old Jules du Page, who + didn't believe in banks and bank-notes. Well, I traced them to a trader + called Flint, who was shipping gold dust from Stockton to Peter Gunn & + Sons, in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “To whom?” asked Gabriel quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Old Gunn—the father of your friend!” said Uncle Sylvester blandly. + “We talked the matter over on our way to the station this morning. Well, + to return. Flint only said that he had got them from a man called + Thompson, who had got them from somebody else in exchange for goods. A + year or two afterwards this same Thompson happened to be frozen up with me + in Starvation Camp. When he thought he was dying he confessed that he had + been bribed by Flint to say what he had said, but that he believed the + coins were stolen. Meantime, Flint had disappeared. Other things claimed + my attention. I had quite forgotten him, until one night, five years + afterwards, I blundered into a deserted mining-camp, by falling asleep on + my mule, who carried me across a broken flume, but—I think I told + you that story already.” + </p> + <p> + “You never finished it,” said Cousin Jane sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Let me do so now, then. I was really saved by some Indians, who took me + for a spirit up aloft there in the moonlight and spread the alarm. The + first white man they brought me was a wretched drunkard known to the boys + as 'Old Fusil,' or 'Fusel Oil,' who went into delirium tremens at the + sight of me. Well, who do you suppose he turned out to be? Flint! Flint + played out and ruined! Cast off and discarded by his relations in New York—the + foundation of whose fortunes he had laid by the villainy they had accepted + and condoned. For Flint, as the carpenter of the old homestead, had + discovered the existence of a bricked closet in the wall of father's + study, partitioned it off so that he could break into it without detection + and rifle it at his leisure, and who had thus carried off that part of + grandfather's hoard which father had concealed there. He knew it could + never be missed by the descendants. But, through haste or ignorance, he + DID NOT TOUCH THE PAPERS and documents also hidden there. And THEY told of + the existence of grandfather's second cache, or hiding-place, beneath this + hearth, and were left for me to discover.” + </p> + <p> + He coolly relit his pipe, fixed his eyes on Marie without apparently + paying attention to the breathless scrutiny of the others, and went on: + “Flint, alias Pierre a Fusil, alias Gunn, died a maniac. I resolved to + test the truth of his story. I came here. I knew the old homestead, as a + boy who had wandered over every part of it, far better than you, Gabriel, + or any one. The elder Gunn had only heard of it through the criminal + disclosure of his relative, and only wished to absorb it through his son + in time, and thus obliterate all trace of Flint's outrage. I recognized + the room perfectly—thanks to our dear Kitty, who had taken up the + carpet, which thus disclosed the loose plank before the closet that was + hidden by the partition. Under pretext of rearranging the room—for + which Kitty will forgive me—I spent the day behind a locked door, + making my way through the partition. There I found the rifled closet, but + the papers intact. They contained a full description of the sum taken by + Flint, and also of a larger sum buried in a cask beside this chimney. I + had just finished unearthing it a few moments before you came. I had at + first hoped to offer it to the family as a Christmas gift to-morrow, but”—He + stopped and sucked slowly at his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “We anticipated you,” said Gabriel laughing. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Uncle Sylvester coolly. “But because it don't happen to belong + to YOU at all! According to the paper I have in my pocket, which is about + as legal a document as I ever saw, it is father's free gift to Miss Marie + du Page.” + </p> + <p> + Kitty threw her arms around her white and breathless friend with a joyful + cry, and honest Gabriel's face shone with unselfish gratification. + </p> + <p> + “For yourself, my dear Gabriel, you must be satisfied with the fact that + Messrs. Peter Gunn & Sons will take back your wildcat stock at the + price you paid for it. It is the price they pay for their share in this + little transaction, as I had the honor of pointing out to Mr. Gunn on our + way to the station this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think that young Mr. Gunn knew that Flint was his relation, and + that he had stolen father's money,” said Kitty, “and that Mr. Gunn only + wanted to”—She stopped, with flashing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I think he would have liked to have made an arrangement, my dear, that + would keep the secret and the property in the family,” said Uncle + Sylvester. “But I don't think he suspected the existence of the second + treasure here.” + </p> + <p> + “And then, sir,” said Cousin Jane, “it appears that all these wretched, + unsatisfactory scraps of stories you were telling us were nothing after + all but”— + </p> + <p> + “My way of telling THIS one,” said Uncle Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + As the others were eagerly gathering around the unearthed treasure, Marie + approached him timidly, all her audacity gone, tears in her eyes, and his + ring held hesitatingly between her fingers. “How can I thank you—and + how CAN you ever forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Uncle Sylvester, gazing at her critically, “you might keep + the ring to think over it.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Sally Dows and Other Stories, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALLY DOWS AND OTHER STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 2705-h.htm or 2705-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/0/2705/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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