diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:43 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:43 -0700 |
| commit | 6b89ed1014d011c10f8ee8fb10505d40dd767cb8 (patch) | |
| tree | ef903c5bc86845b36fd88abe5bdc5e3e8778c5eb /2723-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '2723-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2723-h/2723-h.htm | 7444 |
1 files changed, 7444 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2723-h/2723-h.htm b/2723-h/2723-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..618c081 --- /dev/null +++ b/2723-h/2723-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7444 @@ +<?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> + A First Family of Tasajara, 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 A First Family of Tasajara, 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: A First Family of Tasajara + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 25, 2006 [EBook #2723] +Last Updated: March 4, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FIRST FAMILY OF TASAJARA *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A FIRST FAMILY OF TASAJARA + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Bret Harte + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> CHAPER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> CHAPER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> CHAPER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> CHAPER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> CHAPER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> CHAPER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> CHAPER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> CHAPER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> CHAPER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> CHAPER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> CHAPER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> CHAPER XIII. </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + “It blows,” said Joe Wingate. + </p> + <p> + As if to accent the words of the speaker a heavy gust of wind at that + moment shook the long light wooden structure which served as the general + store of Sidon settlement, in Contra Costa. Even after it had passed a + prolonged whistle came through the keyhole, sides, and openings of the + closed glass front doors, that served equally for windows, and filled the + canvas ceiling which hid the roof above like a bellying sail. A wave of + enthusiastic emotion seemed to be communicated to a line of straw hats and + sou-westers suspended from a cross-beam, and swung them with every + appearance of festive rejoicing, while a few dusters, overcoats, and + “hickory” shirts hanging on the side walls exhibited such marked though + idiotic animation that it had the effect of a satirical comment on the + lazy, purposeless figures of the four living inmates of the store. + </p> + <p> + Ned Billings momentarily raised his head and shoulders depressed in the + back of his wooden armchair, glanced wearily around, said, “You bet, it's + no slouch of a storm,” and then lapsed again with further extended legs + and an added sense of comfort. + </p> + <p> + Here the third figure, which had been leaning listlessly against the + shelves, putting aside the arm of a swaying overcoat that seemed to be + emptily embracing him, walked slowly from behind the counter to the door, + examined its fastenings, and gazed at the prospect. He was the owner of + the store, and the view was a familiar one,—a long stretch of + treeless waste before him meeting an equal stretch of dreary sky above, + and night hovering somewhere between the two. This was indicated by + splashes of darker shadow as if washed in with india ink, and a lighter + low-lying streak that might have been the horizon, but was not. To the + right, on a line with the front door of the store, were several scattered, + widely dispersed objects, that, although vague in outline, were rigid + enough in angles to suggest sheds or barns, but certainly not trees. + </p> + <p> + “There's a heap more wet to come afore the wind goes down,” he said, + glancing at the sky. “Hark to that, now!” + </p> + <p> + They listened lazily. There was a faint murmur from the shingles above; + then suddenly the whole window was filmed and blurred as if the entire + prospect had been wiped out with a damp sponge. The man turned listlessly + away. + </p> + <p> + “That's the kind that soaks in; thar won't be much teamin' over Tasajara + for the next two weeks, I reckon,” said the fourth lounger, who, seated on + a high barrel, was nibbling—albeit critically and fastidiously—biscuits + and dried apples alternately from open boxes on the counter. “It's lucky + you've got in your winter stock, Harkutt.” + </p> + <p> + The shrewd eyes of Mr. Harkutt, proprietor, glanced at the occupation of + the speaker as if even his foresight might have its possible drawbacks, + but he said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “There'll be no show for Sidon until you've got a wagon road from here to + the creek,” said Billings languidly, from the depths of his chair. “But + what's the use o' talkin'? Thar ain't energy enough in all Tasajara to + build it. A God-forsaken place, that two months of the year can only be + reached by a mail-rider once a week, don't look ez if it was goin' to + break its back haulin' in goods and settlers. I tell ye what, gentlemen, + it makes me sick!” And apparently it had enfeebled him to the extent of + interfering with his aim in that expectoration of disgust against the + stove with which he concluded his sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't YOU build it?” asked Wingate, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't on principle,” said Billings. “It's gov'ment work. What did we + whoop up things here last spring to elect Kennedy to the legislation for? + What did I rig up my shed and a thousand feet of lumber for benches at the + barbecue for? Why, to get Kennedy elected and make him get a bill passed + for the road! That's MY share of building it, if it comes to that. And I + only wish some folks, that blow enough about what oughter be done to bulge + out that ceiling, would only do as much as I have done for Sidon.” + </p> + <p> + As this remark seemed to have a personal as well as local application, the + storekeeper diplomatically turned it. “There's a good many as DON'T + believe that a road from here to the creek is going to do any good to + Sidon. It's very well to say the creek is an embarcadero, but callin' it + so don't put anough water into it to float a steamboat from the bay, nor + clear out the reeds and tules in it. Even if the State builds you roads, + it ain't got no call to make Tasajara Creek navigable for ye; and as that + will cost as much as the road, I don't see where the money's comin' from + for both.” + </p> + <p> + “There's water enough in front of 'Lige Curtis's shanty, and his location + is only a mile along the bank,” returned Billings. + </p> + <p> + “Water enough for him to laze away his time fishin' when he's sober, and + deep enough to drown him when he's drunk,” said Wingate. “If you call that + an embarcadero, you kin buy it any day from 'Lige,—title, + possession, and shanty thrown in,—for a demijohn o' whiskey.” + </p> + <p> + The fourth man here distastefully threw back a half-nibbled biscuit into + the box, and languidly slipped from the barrel to the floor, fastidiously + flicking the crumbs from his clothes as he did so. “I reckon somebody'll + get it for nothing, if 'Lige don't pull up mighty soon. He'll either go + off his head with jim-jams or jump into the creek. He's about as near + desp'rit as they make 'em, and havin' no partner to look after him, and + him alone in the tules, ther' 's no tellin' WHAT he may do.” + </p> + <p> + Billings, stretched at full length in his chair, here gurgled derisively. + “Desp'rit!—ketch him! Why, that's his little game! He's jist playin' + off his desp'rit condition to frighten Sidon. Whenever any one asks him + why he don't go to work, whenever he's hard up for a drink, whenever he's + had too much or too little, he's workin' that desp'rit dodge, and even + talkin' o' killin' himself! Why, look here,” he continued, momentarily + raising himself to a sitting posture in his disgust, “it was only last + week he was over at Rawlett's trying to raise provisions and whiskey outer + his water rights on the creek! Fact, sir,—had it all written down + lawyer-like on paper. Rawlett didn't exactly see it in that light, and + told him so. Then he up with the desp'rit dodge and began to work that. + Said if he had to starve in a swamp like a dog he might as well kill + himself at once, and would too if he could afford the weppins. Johnson + said it was not a bad idea, and offered to lend him his revolver; Bilson + handed up his shot-gun, and left it alongside of him, and turned his head + away considerate-like and thoughtful while Rawlett handed him a box of rat + pizon over the counter, in case he preferred suthin' more quiet. Well, + what did 'Lige do? Nothin'! Smiled kinder sickly, looked sorter wild, and + shut up. He didn't suicide much. No, sir! He didn't kill himself,—not + he. Why, old Bixby—and he's a deacon in good standin'—allowed, + in 'Lige's hearin' and for 'Lige's benefit, that self-destruction was + better nor bad example, and proved it by Scripture too. And yet 'Lige did + nothin'! Desp'rit! He's only desp'rit to laze around and fish all day off + a log in the tules, and soak up with whiskey, until, betwixt fever an' + ague and the jumps, he kinder shakes hisself free o' responsibility.” + </p> + <p> + A long silence followed; it was somehow felt that the subject was + incongruously exciting; Billings allowed himself to lapse again behind the + back of his chair. Meantime it had grown so dark that the dull glow of the + stove was beginning to outline a faint halo on the ceiling even while it + plunged the further lines of shelves behind the counter into greater + obscurity. + </p> + <p> + “Time to light up, Harkutt, ain't it?” said Wingate, tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I was reckoning ez it's such a wild night there wouldn't be any use + keepin' open, and when you fellows left I'd just shut up for good and make + things fast,” said Harkutt, dubiously. Before his guests had time to fully + weigh this delicate hint, another gust of wind shook the tenement, and + even forced the unbolted upper part of the door to yield far enough to + admit an eager current of humid air that seemed to justify the wisdom of + Harkutt's suggestion. Billings slowly and with a sigh assumed a sitting + posture in the chair. The biscuit-nibbler selected a fresh dainty from the + counter, and Wingate abstractedly walked to the window and rubbed the + glass. Sky and water had already disappeared behind a curtain of darkness + that was illuminated by a single point of light—the lamp in the + window of some invisible but nearer house—which threw its rays + across the glistening shallows in the road. “Well,” said Wingate, + buttoning up his coat in slow dejection, “I reckon I oughter be travelin' + to help the old woman do the chores before supper.” He had just recognized + the light in his own dining-room, and knew by that sign that his + long-waiting helpmeet had finally done the chores herself. + </p> + <p> + “Some folks have it mighty easy,” said Billings, with long-drawn + discontent, as he struggled to his feet. “You've only a step to go, and + yer's me and Peters there”—indicating the biscuit-nibbler, who was + beginning to show alarming signs of returning to the barrel again—“hev + got to trapse five times that distance.” + </p> + <p> + “More'n half a mile, if it comes to that,” said Peters, gloomily. He + paused in putting on his overcoat as if thinking better of it, while even + the more fortunate and contiguous Wingate languidly lapsed against the + counter again. + </p> + <p> + The moment was a critical one. Billings was evidently also regretfully + eying the chair he had just quitted. Harkutt resolved on a heroic effort. + </p> + <p> + “Come, boys,” he said, with brisk conviviality, “take a parting drink with + me before you go.” Producing a black bottle from some obscurity beneath + the counter that smelt strongly of india-rubber boots, he placed it with + four glasses before his guests. Each made a feint of holding his glass + against the opaque window while filling it, although nothing could be + seen. A sudden tumult of wind and rain again shook the building, but even + after it had passed the glass door still rattled violently. + </p> + <p> + “Just see what's loose, Peters,” said Billings; “you're nearest it.” + </p> + <p> + Peters, still holding the undrained glass in his hand, walked slowly + towards it. + </p> + <p> + “It's suthin'—or somebody outside,” he said, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + The three others came eagerly to his side. Through the glass, clouded from + within by their breath, and filmed from without by the rain, some vague + object was moving, and what seemed to be a mop of tangled hair was + apparently brushing against the pane. The door shook again, but less + strongly. Billings pressed his face against the glass. “Hol' on,” he said + in a quick whisper,—“it's 'Lige!” But it was too late. Harkutt had + already drawn the lower bolt, and a man stumbled from the outer obscurity + into the darker room. + </p> + <p> + The inmates drew away as he leaned back for a moment against the door that + closed behind him. Then dimly, but instinctively, discerning the glass of + liquor which Wingate still mechanically held in his hand, he reached + forward eagerly, took it from Wingate's surprised and unresisting fingers, + and drained it at a gulp. The four men laughed vaguely, but not as + cheerfully as they might. + </p> + <p> + “I was just shutting up,” began Harkutt, dubiously. + </p> + <p> + “I won't keep you a minit,” said the intruder, nervously fumbling in the + breast pocket of his hickory shirt. “It's a matter of business—Harkutt—I”—But + he was obliged to stop here to wipe his face and forehead with the ends of + a loose handkerchief tied round his throat. From the action, and what + could be seen of his pale, exhausted face, it was evident that the + moisture upon it was beads of perspiration, and not the rain which some + abnormal heat of his body was converting into vapor from his sodden + garments as he stood there. + </p> + <p> + “I've got a document here,” he began again, producing a roll of paper + tremblingly from his pocket, “that I'd like you to glance over, and + perhaps you'd”—His voice, which had been feverishly exalted, here + broke and rattled with a cough. + </p> + <p> + Billings, Wingate, and Peters fell apart and looked out of the window. + “It's too dark to read anything now, 'Lige,” said Harkutt, with evasive + good humor, “and I ain't lightin' up to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “But I can tell you the substance of it,” said the man, with a faintness + that however had all the distinctness of a whisper, “if you'll just step + inside a minute. It's a matter of importance and a bargain”— + </p> + <p> + “I reckon we must be goin',” said Billings to the others, with marked + emphasis. “We're keepin' Harkutt from shuttin' up.” “Good-night!” + “Good-night!” added Peters and Wingate, ostentatiously following Billings + hurriedly through the door. “So long!” + </p> + <p> + The door closed behind them, leaving Harkutt alone with his importunate + intruder. Possibly his resentment at his customers' selfish abandonment of + him at this moment developed a vague spirit of opposition to them and + mitigated his feeling towards 'Lige. He groped his way to the counter, + struck a match, and lit a candle. Its feeble rays faintly illuminated the + pale, drawn face of the applicant, set in a tangle of wet, unkempt, + party-colored hair. It was not the face of an ordinary drunkard; although + tremulous and sensitive from some artificial excitement, there was no + ENGORGEMENT or congestion in the features or complexion, albeit they were + morbid and unhealthy. The expression was of a suffering that was as much + mental as physical, and yet in some vague way appeared unmeaning—and + unheroic. + </p> + <p> + “I want to see you about selling my place on the creek. I want you to take + it off my hands for a bargain. I want to get quit of it, at once, for just + enough to take me out o' this. I don't want any profit; only money enough + to get away.” His utterance, which had a certain kind of cultivation, here + grew thick and harsh again, and he looked eagerly at the bottle which + stood on the counter. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, 'Lige,” said Harkutt, not unkindly. “It's too late to do + anythin' tonight. You come in to-morrow.” He would have added “when you're + sober,” but for a trader's sense of politeness to a possible customer, and + probably some doubt of the man's actual condition. + </p> + <p> + “God knows where or what I may be tomorrow! It would kill me to go back + and spend another night as the last, if I don't kill myself on the way to + do it.” + </p> + <p> + Harkutt's face darkened grimly. It was indeed as Billings had said. The + pitiable weakness of the man's manner not only made his desperation + inadequate and ineffective, but even lent it all the cheapness of acting. + And, as if to accent his simulation of a part, his fingers, feebly groping + in his shirt bosom, slipped aimlessly and helplessly from the shining + handle of a pistol in his pocket to wander hesitatingly towards the bottle + on the counter. + </p> + <p> + Harkutt took the bottle, poured out a glass of the liquor, and pushed it + before his companion, who drank it eagerly. Whether it gave him more + confidence, or his attention was no longer diverted, he went on more + collectedly and cheerfully, and with no trace of his previous desperation + in his manner. “Come, Harkutt, buy my place. It's a bargain, I tell you. + I'll sell it cheap. I only want enough to get away with. Give me + twenty-five dollars and it's yours. See, there's the papers—the + quitclaim—all drawn up and signed.” He drew the roll of paper from + his pocket again, apparently forgetful of the adjacent weapon. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, 'Lige,” said Harkutt, with a business-like straightening of + his lips, “I ain't buyin' any land in Tasajara,—least of all yours + on the creek. I've got more invested here already than I'll ever get back + again. But I tell you what I'll do. You say you can't go back to your + shanty. Well, seein' how rough it is outside, and that the waters of the + creek are probably all over the trail by this time, I reckon you're about + right. Now, there's five dollars!” He laid down a coin sharply on the + counter. “Take that and go over to Rawlett's and get a bed and some + supper. In the mornin' you may be able to strike up a trade with somebody + else—or change your mind. How did you get here? On your hoss?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “He ain't starved yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he can eat grass. I can't.” + </p> + <p> + Either the liquor or Harkutt's practical unsentimental treatment of the + situation seemed to give him confidence. He met Harkutt's eye more + steadily as the latter went on. “You kin turn your hoss for the night into + my stock corral next to Rawlett's. It'll save you payin' for fodder and + stablin'.” + </p> + <p> + The man took up the coin with a certain slow gravity which was almost like + dignity. “Thank you,” he said, laying the paper on the counter. “I'll + leave that as security.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't want it, 'Lige,” said Harkutt, pushing it back. + </p> + <p> + “I'd rather leave it.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose you have a chance to sell it to somebody at Rawlett's?” + continued Harkutt, with a precaution that seemed ironical. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think there's much chance of that.” + </p> + <p> + He remained quiet, looking at Harkutt with an odd expression as he rubbed + the edge of the coin that he held between his fingers abstractedly on the + counter. Something in his gaze—rather perhaps the apparent absence + of anything in it approximate to the present occasion—was beginning + to affect Harkutt with a vague uneasiness. Providentially a resumed + onslaught of wind and rain against the panes effected a diversion. “Come,” + he said, with brisk practicality, “you'd better hurry on to Rawlett's + before it gets worse. Have your clothes dried by his fire, take suthin' to + eat, and you'll be all right.” He rubbed his hands cheerfully, as if + summarily disposing of the situation, and incidentally of all 'Lige's + troubles, and walked with him to the door. Nevertheless, as the man's look + remained unchanged, he hesitated a moment with his hand on the handle, in + the hope that he would say something, even if only to repeat his appeal, + but he did not. Then Harkutt opened the door; the man moved mechanically + out, and at the distance of a few feet seemed to melt into the rain and + darkness. Harkutt remained for a moment with his face pressed against the + glass. After an interval he thought he heard the faint splash of hoofs in + the shallows of the road; he opened the door softly and looked out. + </p> + <p> + The light had disappeared from the nearest house; only an uncertain bulk + of shapeless shadows remained. Other remoter and more vague outlines near + the horizon seemed to have a funereal suggestion of tombs and grave + mounds, and one—a low shed near the road—looked not unlike a + halted bier. He hurriedly put up the shutters in a momentary lulling of + the wind, and re-entering the store began to fasten them from within. + </p> + <p> + While thus engaged an inner door behind the counter opened softly and + cautiously, projecting a brighter light into the deserted apartment from + some sacred domestic interior with the warm and wholesome incense of + cooking. It served to introduce also the equally agreeable presence of a + young girl, who, after assuring herself of the absence of every one but + the proprietor, idly slipped into the store, and placing her rounded + elbows, from which her sleeves were uprolled, upon the counter, leaned + lazily upon them, with both hands supporting her dimpled chin, and gazed + indolently at him; so indolently that, with her pretty face once fixed in + this comfortable attitude, she was constrained to follow his movements + with her eyes alone, and often at an uncomfortable angle. It was evident + that she offered the final but charming illustration of the enfeebling + listlessness of Sidon. + </p> + <p> + “So those loafers have gone at last,” she said, meditatively. “They'll + take root here some day, pop. The idea of three strong men like that + lazing round for two mortal hours doin' nothin'. Well!” As if to emphasize + her disgust she threw her whole weight upon the counter by swinging her + feet from the floor to touch the shelves behind her. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harkutt only replied by a slight grunt as he continued to screw on the + shutters. + </p> + <p> + “Want me to help you, dad?” she said, without moving. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harkutt muttered something unintelligible, which, however, seemed to + imply a negative, and her attention here feebly wandered to the roll of + paper, and she began slowly and lazily to read it aloud. + </p> + <p> + “'For value received, I hereby sell, assign, and transfer to Daniel D. + Harkutt all my right, titles and interest in, and to the undivided half + of, Quarter Section 4, Range 5, Tasajara Township'—hum—hum,” + she murmured, running her eyes to the bottom of the page. “Why, Lord! It's + that 'Lige Curtis!” she laughed. “The idea of HIM having property! Why, + dad, you ain't been THAT silly!” + </p> + <p> + “Put down that paper, miss,” he said, aggrievedly; “bring the candle here, + and help me to find one of these infernal screws that's dropped.” + </p> + <p> + The girl indolently disengaged herself from the counter and Elijah + Curtis's transfer, and brought the candle to her father. The screw was + presently found and the last fastening secured. “Supper gettin' cold, + dad,” she said, with a slight yawn. Her father sympathetically responded + by stretching himself from his stooping position, and the two passed + through the private door into inner domesticity, leaving the already + forgotten paper lying with other articles of barter on the counter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER II. + </h2> + <p> + With the closing of the little door behind them they seemed to have shut + out the turmoil and vibration of the storm. The reason became apparent + when, after a few paces, they descended half a dozen steps to a lower + landing. This disclosed the fact that the dwelling part of the Sidon + General Store was quite below the level of the shop and the road, and on + the slope of the solitary undulation of the Tasajara plain,—a little + ravine that fell away to a brawling stream below. The only arboreous + growth of Tasajara clothed its banks in the shape of willows and alders + that set compactly around the quaint, irregular dwelling which straggled + down the ravine and looked upon a slope of bracken and foliage on either + side. The transition from the black, treeless, storm-swept plain to this + sheltered declivity was striking and suggestive. From the opposite bank + one might fancy that the youthful and original dwelling had ambitiously + mounted the crest, but, appalled at the dreary prospect beyond, had gone + no further; while from the road it seemed as if the fastidious proprietor + had tried to draw a line between the vulgar trading-post, with which he + was obliged to face the coarser civilization of the place, and the privacy + of his domestic life. The real fact, however, was that the ravine + furnished wood and water; and as Nature also provided one wall of the + house,—as in the well-known example of aboriginal cave dwellings,—its + peculiar construction commended itself to Sidon on the ground of involving + little labor. + </p> + <p> + Howbeit, from the two open windows of the sitting-room which they had + entered only the faint pattering of dripping boughs and a slight murmur + from the swollen brook indicated the storm that shook the upper plain, and + the cool breath of laurel, syringa, and alder was wafted through the neat + apartment. Passing through that pleasant rural atmosphere they entered the + kitchen, a much larger room, which appeared to serve occasionally as a + dining-room, and where supper was already laid out. A stout, + comfortable-looking woman—who had, however, a singularly permanent + expression of pained sympathy upon her face—welcomed them in tones + of gentle commiseration. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there you be, you two! Now sit ye right down, dears; DO. You must be + tired out; and you, Phemie, love, draw up by your poor father. There—that's + right. You'll be better soon.” + </p> + <p> + There was certainly no visible sign of suffering or exhaustion on the part + of either father or daughter, nor the slightest apparent earthly reason + why they should be expected to exhibit any. But, as already intimated, it + was part of Mrs. Harkutt's generous idiosyncrasy to look upon all humanity + as suffering and toiling; to be petted, humored, condoled with, and fed. + It had, in the course of years, imparted a singularly caressing sadness to + her voice, and given her the habit of ending her sentences with a + melancholy cooing and an unintelligible murmur of agreement. It was + undoubtedly sincere and sympathetic, but at times inappropriate and + distressing. It had lost her the friendship of the one humorist of + Tasajara, whose best jokes she had received with such heartfelt + commiseration and such pained appreciation of the evident labor involved + as to reduce him to silence. + </p> + <p> + Accustomed as Mr. Harkutt was to his wife's peculiarity, he was not above + assuming a certain slightly fatigued attitude befitting it. “Yes,” he + said, with a vague sigh, “where's Clemmie?” + </p> + <p> + “Lyin' down since dinner; she reckoned she wouldn't get up to supper,” she + returned soothingly. “Phemie's goin' to take her up some sass and tea. The + poor dear child wants a change.” + </p> + <p> + “She wants to go to 'Frisco, and so do I, pop,” said Phemie, leaning her + elbow half over her father's plate. “Come, pop, say do,—just for a + week.” + </p> + <p> + “Only for a week,” murmured the commiserating Mrs. Harkutt. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” responded Harkutt, with gloomy sarcasm, “ye wouldn't mind + tellin' me how you're goin' to get there, and where the money's comin' + from to take you? There's no teamin' over Tasajara till the rain stops, + and no money comin' in till the ranchmen can move their stuff. There ain't + a hundred dollars in all Tasajara; at least there ain't been the first red + cent of it paid across my counter for a fortnit! Perhaps if you do go you + wouldn't mind takin' me and the store along with ye, and leavin' us + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Harkutt, with sympathetic but shameless + tergiversation. “Don't bother your poor father, Phemie, love; don't you + see he's just tired out? And you're not eatin' anything, dad.” + </p> + <p> + As Mr. Harkutt was uneasily conscious that he had been eating heartily in + spite of his financial difficulties, he turned the subject abruptly. + “Where's John Milton?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harkutt shaded her eyes with her hand, and gazed meditatively on the + floor before the fire and in the chimney corner for her only son, baptized + under that historic title. “He was here a minit ago,” she said doubtfully. + “I really can't think where he's gone. But,” assuringly, “it ain't far.” + </p> + <p> + “He's skipped with one o' those story-books he's borrowed,” said Phemie. + “He's always doin' it. Like as not he's reading with a candle in the + wood-shed. We'll all be burnt up some night.” + </p> + <p> + “But he's got through his chores,” interposed Mrs. Harkutt deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Harkutt, aggrievedly, “but instead of goin' to bed, or + addin' up bills, or takin' count o' stock, or even doin' sums or suthin' + useful, he's ruinin' his eyes and wastin' his time over trash.” He rose + and walked slowly into the sitting-room, followed by his daughter and a + murmur of commiseration from his wife. But Mrs. Harkutt's ministration for + the present did not pass beyond her domain, the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon ye ain't expectin' anybody tonight, Phemie?” said Mr. Harkutt, + sinking into a chair, and placing his slippered feet against the wall. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Phemie, “unless something possesses that sappy little Parmlee + to make one of his visitations. John Milton says that out on the road it + blows so you can't stand up. It's just like that idiot Parmlee to be blown + in here, and not have strength of mind enough to get away again.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harkutt smiled. It was that arch yet approving, severe yet satisfied + smile with which the deceived male parent usually receives any + depreciation of the ordinary young man by his daughters. Euphemia was no + giddy thing to be carried away by young men's attentions,—not she! + Sitting back comfortably in his rocking-chair, he said, “Play something.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl went to the closet and took from the top shelf an + excessively ornamented accordion,—the opulent gift of a reckless + admirer. It was so inordinately decorated, so gorgeous in the blaze of + papier mache, mother-of-pearl, and tortoise-shell on keys and keyboard, + and so ostentatiously radiant in the pink silk of its bellows that it + seemed to overawe the plainly furnished room with its splendors. “You + ought to keep it on the table in a glass vase, Phemie,” said her father + admiringly. + </p> + <p> + “And have HIM think I worshiped it! Not me, indeed! He's conceited enough + already,” she returned, saucily. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harkutt again smiled his approbation, then deliberately closed his + eyes and threw his head back in comfortable anticipation of the coming + strains. + </p> + <p> + It is to be regretted that in brilliancy, finish, and even cheerfulness of + quality they were not up to the suggestions of the keys and keyboard. The + most discreet and cautious effort on the part of the young performer + seemed only to produce startlingly unexpected, but instantly suppressed + complaints from the instrument, accompanied by impatient interjections of + “No, no,” from the girl herself. Nevertheless, with her pretty eyebrows + knitted in some charming distress of memory, her little mouth half open + between an apologetic smile and the exertion of working the bellows, with + her white, rounded arms partly lifted up and waving before her, she was + pleasantly distracting to the eye. Gradually, as the scattered strains + were marshaled into something like an air, she began to sing also, + glossing over the instrumental weaknesses, filling in certain dropped + notes and omissions, and otherwise assisting the ineffectual accordion + with a youthful but not unmusical voice. The song was a lugubrious + religious chant; under its influence the house seemed to sink into greater + quiet, permitting in the intervals the murmur of the swollen creek to + appear more distinct, and even the far moaning of the wind on the plain to + become faintly audible. At last, having fairly mastered the instrument, + Phemie got into the full swing of the chant. Unconstrained by any + criticism, carried away by the sound of her own voice, and perhaps a + youthful love for mere uproar, or possibly desirous to drown her father's + voice, which had unexpectedly joined in with a discomposing bass, the + conjoined utterances seemed to threaten the frail structure of their + dwelling, even as the gale had distended the store behind them. When they + ceased at last it was in an accession of dripping from the apparently + stirred leaves outside. And then a voice, evidently from the moist depths + of the abyss below, called out,— + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, there!” + </p> + <p> + Phemie put down the accordion, said, “Who's that now?” went to the window, + lazily leaned her elbows on the sill, and peered into the darkness. + Nothing was to be seen; the open space of dimly outlined landscape had + that blank, uncommunicative impenetrability with which Nature always + confronts and surprises us at such moments. It seemed to Phemie that she + was the only human being present. Yet after the feeling had passed she + fancied she heard the wash of the current against some object in the + stream, half stationary and half resisting. + </p> + <p> + “Is any one down there? Is that you, Mr. Parmlee?” she called. + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. Some invisible auditor said to another, “It's a young + lady.” Then the first voice rose again in a more deferential tone: “Are we + anywhere near Sidon?” + </p> + <p> + “This is Sidon,” answered Harkutt, who had risen, and was now quite + obliterating his daughter's outline at the window. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the voice. “Can we land anywhere here, on this bank?” + </p> + <p> + “Run down, pop; they're strangers,” said the girl, with excited, almost + childish eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on,” called out Harkutt, “I'll be thar in a moment!” He hastily + thrust his feet into a pair of huge boots, clapped on an oilskin hat and + waterproof, and disappeared through a door that led to a lower staircase. + Phemie, still at the window, albeit with a newly added sense of + self-consciousness, hung out breathlessly. Presently a beam of light from + the lower depths of the house shot out into the darkness. It was her + father with a bull's-eye lantern. As he held it up and clambered + cautiously down the bank, its rays fell upon the turbid rushing stream, + and what appeared to be a rough raft of logs held with difficulty against + the bank by two men with long poles. In its centre was a roll of blankets, + a valise and saddle-bags, and the shining brasses of some odd-looking + instruments. + </p> + <p> + As Mr. Harkutt, supporting himself by a willow branch that overhung the + current, held up the lantern, the two men rapidly transferred their + freight from the raft to the bank, and leaped ashore. The action gave an + impulse to the raft, which, no longer held in position by the poles, swung + broadside to the current and was instantly swept into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Not a word had been spoken, but now the voices of the men rose freely + together. Phemie listened with intense expectation. The explanation was + simple. They were surveyors who had been caught by the overflow on + Tasajara plain, had abandoned their horses on the bank of Tasajara Creek, + and with a hastily constructed raft had intrusted themselves and their + instruments to the current. “But,” said Harkutt quickly, “there is no + connection between Tasajara Creek and this stream.” + </p> + <p> + The two men laughed. “There is NOW,” said one of them. + </p> + <p> + “But Tasajara Creek is a part of the bay,” said the astonished Harkutt, + “and this stream rises inland and only runs into the bay four miles lower + down. And I don't see how— + </p> + <p> + “You're almost twelve feet lower here than Tasajara Creek,” said the first + man, with a certain professional authority, “and that's WHY. There's more + water than Tasajara Creek can carry, and it's seeking the bay this way. + Look,” he continued, taking the lantern from Harkutt's hand and casting + its rays on the stream, “that's salt drift from the upper bay, and part of + Tasajara Creek's running by your house now! Don't be alarmed,” he added + reassuringly, glancing at the staring storekeeper. “You're all right here; + this is only the overflow and will find its level soon.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Harkutt remained gazing abstractedly at the smiling speaker. From + the window above the impatient Phemie was wondering why he kept the + strangers waiting in the rain while he talked about things that were + perfectly plain. It was so like a man! + </p> + <p> + “Then there's a waterway straight to Tasajara Creek?” he said slowly. + </p> + <p> + “There is, as long as this flood lasts,” returned the first speaker + promptly; “and a cutting through the bank of two or three hundred yards + would make it permanent. Well, what's the matter with that?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin',” said Harkutt hurriedly. “I am only considerin'! But come in, + dry yourselves, and take suthin'.” + </p> + <p> + The light over the rushing water was withdrawn, and the whole prospect + sank back into profound darkness. Mr. Harkutt had disappeared with his + guests. Then there was the familiar shuffle of his feet on the staircase, + followed by other more cautious footsteps that grew delicately and even + courteously deliberate as they approached. At which the young girl, in + some new sense of decorum, drew in her pretty head, glanced around the + room quickly, reset the tidy on her father's chair, placed the resplendent + accordion like an ornament in the exact centre of the table, and then + vanished into the hall as Mr. Harkutt entered with the strangers. + </p> + <p> + They were both of the same age and appearance, but the principal speaker + was evidently the superior of his companion, and although their attitude + to each other was equal and familiar, it could be easily seen that he was + the leader. He had a smooth, beardless face, with a critical expression of + eye and mouth that might have been fastidious and supercilious but for the + kindly, humorous perception that tempered it. His quick eye swept the + apartment and then fixed itself upon the accordion, but a smile lit up his + face as he said quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “I hope we haven't frightened the musician away. It was bad enough to have + interrupted the young lady.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Mr. Harkutt, who seemed to have lost his abstraction in the + nervousness of hospitality. “I reckon she's only lookin' after her sick + sister. But come into the kitchen, both of you, straight off, and while + you're dryin' your clothes, mother'll fix you suthin' hot.” + </p> + <p> + “We only need to change our boots and stockings; we've some dry ones in + our pack downstairs,” said the first speaker hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “I'll fetch 'em up and you can change in the kitchen. The old woman won't + mind,” said Harkutt reassuringly. “Come along.” He led the way to the + kitchen; the two strangers exchanged a glance of humorous perplexity and + followed. + </p> + <p> + The quiet of the little room was once more unbroken. A far-off + commiserating murmur indicated that Mrs. Harkutt was receiving her guests. + The cool breath of the wet leaves without slightly stirred the white + dimity curtains, and somewhere from the darkened eaves there was a still, + somnolent drip. Presently a hurried whisper and a half-laugh appeared to + be suppressed in the outer passage or hall. There was another moment of + hesitation and the door opened suddenly and ostentatiously, disclosing + Phemie, with a taller and slighter young woman, her elder sister, at her + side. Perceiving that the room was empty, they both said “Oh!” yet with a + certain artificiality of manner that was evidently a lingering trace of + some previous formal attitude they had assumed. Then without further + speech they each selected a chair and a position, having first shaken out + their dresses, and gazed silently at each other. + </p> + <p> + It may be said briefly that sitting thus—in spite of their unnatural + attitude, or perhaps rather because of its suggestion of a photographic + pose—they made a striking picture, and strongly accented their + separate peculiarities. They were both pretty, but the taller girl, + apparently the elder, had an ideal refinement and regularity of feature + which was not only unlike Phemie, but gratuitously unlike the rest of her + family, and as hopelessly and even wantonly inconsistent with her + surroundings as was the elaborately ornamented accordion on the + centre-table. She was one of those occasional creatures, episodical in the + South and West, who might have been stamped with some vague ante-natal + impression of a mother given to over-sentimental contemplation of books of + beauty and albums rather than the family features; offspring of typical + men and women, and yet themselves incongruous to any known local or even + general type. The long swan-like neck, tendriled hair, swimming eyes, and + small patrician head, had never lived or moved before in Tasajara or the + West, nor perhaps even existed except as a personified “Constancy,” + “Meditation,” or the “Baron's Bride,” in mezzotint or copperplate. Even + the girl's common pink print dress with its high sleeves and shoulders + could not conventionalize these original outlines; and the hand that + rested stiffly on the back of her chair, albeit neither over-white nor + well kept, looked as if it had never held anything but a lyre, a rose, or + a good book. Even the few sprays of wild jessamine which she had placed in + the coils of her waving hair, although a local fashion, became her as a + special ornament. + </p> + <p> + The two girls kept their constrained and artificially elaborated attitude + for a few moments, accompanied by the murmur of voices in the kitchen, the + monotonous drip of the eaves before the window, and the far-off sough of + the wind. Then Phemie suddenly broke into a constrained giggle, which she + however quickly smothered as she had the accordion, and with the same look + of mischievous distress. + </p> + <p> + “I'm astonished at you, Phemie,” said Clementina in a deep contralto + voice, which seemed even deeper from its restraint. “You don't seem to + have any sense. Anybody'd think you never had seen a stranger before.” + </p> + <p> + “Saw him before you did,” retorted Phemie pertly. But here a pushing of + chairs and shuffling of feet in the kitchen checked her. Clementina fixed + an abstracted gaze on the ceiling; Phemie regarded a leaf on the window + sill with photographic rigidity as the door opened to the strangers and + her father. + </p> + <p> + The look of undisguised satisfaction which lit the young men's faces + relieved Mr. Harkutt's awkward introduction of any embarrassment, and + almost before Phemie was fully aware of it, she found herself talking + rapidly and in a high key with Mr. Lawrence Grant, the surveyor, while her + sister was equally, although more sedately, occupied with Mr. Stephen + Rice, his assistant. But the enthusiasm of the strangers, and the desire + to please and be pleased was so genuine and contagious that presently the + accordion was brought into requisition, and Mr. Grant exhibited a + surprising faculty of accompaniment to Mr. Rice's tenor, in which both the + girls joined. + </p> + <p> + Then a game of cards with partners followed, into which the rival parties + introduced such delightful and shameless obviousness of cheating, and + displayed such fascinating and exaggerated partisanship that the game + resolved itself into a hilarious melee, to which peace was restored only + by an exhibition of tricks of legerdemain with the cards by the young + surveyor. All of which Mr. Harkutt supervised patronizingly, with + occasional fits of abstraction, from his rocking-chair; and later Mrs. + Harkutt from her kitchen threshold, wiping her arms on her apron and + commiseratingly observing that she “declared, the young folks looked + better already.” + </p> + <p> + But it was here a more dangerous element of mystery and suggestion was + added by Mr. Lawrence Grant in the telling of Miss Euphemia's fortune from + the cards before him, and that young lady, pink with excitement, fluttered + her little hands not unlike timid birds over the cards to be drawn, taking + them from him with an audible twitter of anxiety and great doubts whether + a certain “fair-haired gentleman” was in hearts or diamonds. + </p> + <p> + “Here are two strangers,” said Mr. Grant, with extraordinary gravity + laying down the cards, “and here is a 'journey;' this is 'unexpected + news,' and this ten of diamonds means 'great wealth' to you, which you see + follows the advent of the two strangers and is some way connected with + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed,” said the young lady with great pertness and a toss of her + head. “I suppose they've got the money with them.” + </p> + <p> + “No, though it reaches you through them,” he answered with unflinching + solemnity. “Wait a bit, I have it! I see, I've made a mistake with this + card. It signifies a journey or a road. Queer! isn't it, Steve? It's THE + ROAD.” + </p> + <p> + “It is queer,” said Rice with equal gravity; “but it's so. The road, + sure!” Nevertheless he looked up into the large eyes of Clementina with a + certain confidential air of truthfulness. + </p> + <p> + “You see, ladies,” continued the surveyor, appealing to them with + unabashed rigidity of feature, “the cards don't lie! Luckily we are in a + position to corroborate them. The road in question is a secret known only + to us and some capitalists in San Francisco. In fact even THEY don't know + that it is feasible until WE report to them. But I don't mind telling you + now, as a slight return for your charming hospitality, that the road is a + RAILROAD from Oakland to Tasajara Creek of which we've just made the + preliminary survey. So you see what the cards mean is this: You're not far + from Tasajara Creek; in fact with a very little expense your father could + connect this stream with the creek, and have a WATERWAY STRAIGHT TO THE + RAILROAD TERMINUS. That's the wealth the cards promise; and if your father + knows how to take a hint he can make his fortune!” + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to say which was the most dominant in the face of the + speaker, the expression of assumed gravity or the twinkling of humor in + his eyes. The two girls with superior feminine perception divined that + there was much truth in what he said, albeit they didn't entirely + understand it, and what they did understand—except the man's + good-humored motive—was not particularly interesting. In fact they + were slightly disappointed. What had promised to be an audaciously + flirtatious declaration, and even a mischievous suggestion of marriage, + had resolved itself into something absurdly practical and business-like. + </p> + <p> + Not so Mr. Harkutt. He quickly rose from his chair, and, leaning over the + table, with his eyes fixed on the card as if it really signified the + railroad, repeated quickly: “Railroad, eh! What's that? A railroad to + Tasajara Creek? Ye don't mean it!—That is—it ain't a SURE + thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly sure. The money is ready in San Francisco now, and by this time + next year—” + </p> + <p> + “A railroad to Tasajara Creek!” continued Harkutt hurriedly. “What part of + it? Where?” + </p> + <p> + “At the embarcadero naturally,” responded Grant. “There isn't but the one + place for the terminus. There's an old shanty there now belongs to + somebody.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, pop!” said Phemie with sudden recollection, “ain't it 'Lige Curtis's + house? The land he offered”— + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said her father. + </p> + <p> + “You know, the one written in that bit of paper,” continued the innocent + Phemie. + </p> + <p> + “Hush! will you? God A'mighty! are you goin' to mind me? Are you goin' to + keep up your jabber when I'm speakin' to the gentlemen? Is that your + manners? What next, I wonder!” + </p> + <p> + The sudden and unexpected passion of the speaker, the incomprehensible + change in his voice, and the utterly disproportionate exaggeration of his + attitude towards his daughters, enforced an instantaneous silence. The + rain began to drip audibly at the window, the rush of the river sounded + distinctly from without, even the shaking of the front part of the + dwelling by the distant gale became perceptible. An angry flash sprang for + an instant to the young assistant's eye, but it met the cautious glance of + his friend, and together both discreetly sought the table. The two girls + alone remained white and collected. “Will you go on with my fortune, Mr. + Grant?” said Phemie quietly. + </p> + <p> + A certain respect, perhaps not before observable, was suggested in the + surveyor's tone as he smilingly replied, “Certainly, I was only waiting + for you to show your confidence in me,” and took up the cards. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harkutt coughed. “It looks as if that blamed wind had blown suthin' + loose in the store,” he said affectedly. “I reckon I'll go and see.” He + hesitated a moment and then disappeared in the passage. Yet even here he + stood irresolute, looking at the closed door behind him, and passing his + hand over his still flushed face. Presently he slowly and abstractedly + ascended the flight of steps, entered the smaller passage that led to the + back door of the shop and opened it. + </p> + <p> + He was at first a little startled at the halo of light from the still + glowing stove, which the greater obscurity of the long room had heightened + rather than diminished. Then he passed behind the counter, but here the + box of biscuits which occupied the centre and cast a shadow over it + compelled him to grope vaguely for what he sought. Then he stopped + suddenly, the paper he had just found dropping from his fingers, and said + sharply,— + </p> + <p> + “Who's there?” + </p> + <p> + “Me, pop.” + </p> + <p> + “John Milton?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What the devil are you doin' there, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Readin'.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. The boy was half reclining in a most distorted posture on two + chairs, his figure in deep shadow, but his book was raised above his head + so as to catch the red glow of the stove on the printed page. Even then + his father's angry interruption scarcely diverted his preoccupation; he + raised himself in his chair mechanically, with his eyes still fixed on his + book. Seeing which his father quickly regained the paper, but continued + his objurgation. + </p> + <p> + “How dare you? Clear off to bed, will you! Do you hear me? Pretty goin's + on,” he added as if to justify his indignation. “Sneakin' in here and—and + lyin' 'round at this time o' night! Why, if I hadn't come in here to”— + </p> + <p> + “What?” asked the boy mechanically, catching vaguely at the unfinished + sentence and staring automatically at the paper in his father's hand. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin', sir! Go to bed, I tell you! Will you? What are you standin' + gawpin' at?” continued Harkutt furiously. + </p> + <p> + The boy regained his feet slowly and passed his father, but not without + noticing with the same listless yet ineffaceable perception of childhood + that he was hurriedly concealing the paper in his pocket. With the same + youthful inconsequence, wondering at this more than at the interruption, + which was no novel event, he went slowly out of the room. + </p> + <p> + Harkutt listened to the retreating tread of his bare feet in the passage + and then carefully locked the door. Taking the paper from his pocket, and + borrowing the idea he had just objurgated in his son, he turned it towards + the dull glow of the stove and attempted to read it. But perhaps lacking + the patience as well as the keener sight of youth, he was forced to + relight the candle which he had left on the counter, and reperused the + paper. Yes! there was certainly no mistake! Here was the actual + description of the property which the surveyor had just indicated as the + future terminus of the new railroad, and here it was conveyed to him—Daniel + Harkutt! What was that? Somebody knocking? What did this continual + interruption mean? An odd superstitious fear now mingled with his + irritation. + </p> + <p> + The sound appeared to come from the front shutters. It suddenly occurred + to him that the light might be visible through the crevices. He hurriedly + extinguished it, and went to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Who's there?” + </p> + <p> + “Me,—Peters. Want to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harkutt with evident reluctance drew the bolts. The wind, still + boisterous and besieging, did the rest, and precipitately propelled Peters + through the carefully guarded opening. But his surprise at finding himself + in the darkness seemed to forestall any explanation of his visit. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said with an odd mingling of reproach and suspicion. “I declare + I saw a light here just this minit! That's queer.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I put it out just now. I was goin' away,” replied Harkutt, with + ill-disguised impatience. + </p> + <p> + “What! been here ever since?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Harkutt curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I want to speak to ye about 'Lige. Seein' the candle shinin' + through the chinks I thought he might be still with ye. If he ain't, it + looks bad. Light up, can't ye! I want to show you something.” + </p> + <p> + There was a peremptoriness in his tone that struck Harkutt disagreeably, + but observing that he was carrying something in his hand, he somewhat + nervously re-lit the candle and faced him. Peters had a hat in his hand. + It was 'Lige's! + </p> + <p> + “'Bout an hour after we fellers left here,” said Peters, “I heard the + rattlin' of hoofs on the road, and then it seemed to stop just by my + house. I went out with a lantern, and, darn my skin! if there warn't + 'Lige's hoss, the saddle empty, and 'Lige nowhere! I looked round and + called him—but nothing were to be seen. Thinkin' he might have + slipped off—tho' ez a general rule drunken men don't, and he is a + good rider—I followed down the road, lookin' for him. I kept on + follerin' it down to your run, half a mile below.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” began Harkutt, with a quick nervous laugh, “you don't reckon that + because of that he”— + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” said Peters, grimly producing a revolver from his side-pocket + with the stock and barrel clogged and streaked with mud. “I found THAT + too,—and look! one barrel discharged! And,” he added hurriedly, as + approaching a climax, “look ye,—what I nat'rally took for wet from + the rain—inside that hat—was—blood!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Harkutt, putting the hat aside with a new fastidiousness. + “You don't think”— + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Peters, lowering his voice, “I think, by God! HE'S BIN AND + DONE IT!” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! Oh, it's all very well for Billings and the rest of that conceited + crowd to sneer and sling their ideas of 'Lige gen'rally as they did jess + now here,—but I'd like 'em to see THAT.” It was difficult to tell if + Mr. Peters' triumphant delight in confuting his late companions' theories + had not even usurped in his mind the importance of the news he brought, as + it had of any human sympathy with it. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” returned Harkutt earnestly, yet with a singularly cleared + brow and a more natural manner. “You ought to take them things over to + Squire Kerby's, right off, and show 'em to him. You kin tell him how you + left 'Lige here, and say that I can prove by my daughter that he went away + about ten minutes after,—at least, not more than fifteen.” Like all + unprofessional humanity, Mr. Harkutt had an exaggerated conception of the + majesty of unimportant detail in the eye of the law. “I'd go with you + myself,” he added quickly, “but I've got company—strangers—here.” + </p> + <p> + “How did he look when he left,—kinder wild?” suggested Peters. + </p> + <p> + Harkutt had begun to feel the prudence of present reticence. “Well,” he + said, cautiously, “YOU saw how he looked.” + </p> + <p> + “You wasn't rough with him?—that might have sent him off, you know,” + said Peters. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Harkutt, forgetting himself in a quick indignation, “no, I not + only treated him to another drink, but gave him”—he stopped suddenly + and awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said Peters. + </p> + <p> + “Some good advice,—you know,” said Harkutt, hastily. “But come, + you'd better hurry over to the squire's. You know YOU'VE made the + discovery; YOUR evidence is important, and there's a law that obliges you + to give information at once.” + </p> + <p> + The excitement of discovery and the triumph over his disputants being + spent, Peters, after the Sidon fashion, evidently did not relish activity + as a duty. “You know,” he said dubiously, “he mightn't be dead, after + all.” + </p> + <p> + Harkutt became a trifle distant. “You know your own opinion of the thing,” + he replied after a pause. “You've circumstantial evidence enough to see + the squire, and set others to work on it; and,” he added significantly, + “you've done your share then, and can wipe your hands of it, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” said Peters, eagerly. “I'll just run over to the squire.” + </p> + <p> + “And on account of the women folks, you know, and the strangers here, I'll + say nothin' about it to-night,” added Harkutt. + </p> + <p> + Peters nodded his head, and taking up the hat of the unfortunate Elijah + with a certain hesitation, as if he feared it had already lost its + dramatic intensity as a witness, disappeared into the storm and darkness + again. A lurking gust of wind lying in ambush somewhere seemed to swoop + down on him as if to prevent further indecision and whirl him away in the + direction of the justice's house; and Mr. Harkutt shut the door, bolted + it, and walked aimlessly back to the counter. + </p> + <p> + From a slow, deliberate and cautious man, he seemed to have changed within + an hour to an irresolute and capricious one. He took the paper from his + pocket, and, unlocking the money drawer of his counter, folded into a + small compass that which now seemed to be the last testament of Elijah + Curtis, and placed it in a recess. Then he went to the back door and + paused, then returned, reopened the money drawer, took out the paper and + again buttoned it in his hip pocket, standing by the stove and staring + abstractedly at the dull glow of the fire. He even went through the + mechanical process of raking down the ashes,—solely to gain time and + as an excuse for delaying some other necessary action. + </p> + <p> + He was thinking what he should do. Had the question of his right to retain + and make use of that paper been squarely offered to him an hour ago, he + would without doubt have decided that he ought not to keep it. Even now, + looking at it as an abstract principle, he did not deceive himself in the + least. But Nature has the reprehensible habit of not presenting these + questions to us squarely and fairly, and it is remarkable that in most of + our offending the abstract principle is never the direct issue. Mr. + Harkutt was conscious of having been unwillingly led step by step into a + difficult, not to say dishonest, situation, and against his own seeking. + He had never asked Elijah to sell him the property; he had distinctly + declined it; it had even been forced upon him as security for the pittance + he so freely gave him. This proved (to himself) that he himself was + honest; it was only the circumstances that were queer. Of course if Elijah + had lived, he, Harkutt, might have tried to drive some bargain with him + before the news of the railroad survey came out—for THAT was only + business. But now that Elijah was dead, who would be a penny the worse or + better but himself if he chose to consider the whole thing as a lucky + speculation, and his gift of five dollars as the price he paid for it? + Nobody could think that he had calculated upon 'Lige's suicide, any more + than that the property would become valuable. In fact if it came to that, + if 'Lige had really contemplated killing himself as a hopeless bankrupt + after taking Harkutt's money as a loan, it was a swindle on his—Harkutt's—good-nature. + He worked himself into a rage, which he felt was innately virtuous, at + this tyranny of cold principle over his own warm-hearted instincts, but if + it came to the LAW, he'd stand by law and not sentiment. He'd just let + them—by which he vaguely meant the world, Tasajara, and possibly his + own conscience—see that he wasn't a sentimental fool, and he'd + freeze on to that paper and that property! + </p> + <p> + Only he ought to have spoken out before. He ought to have told the + surveyor at once that he owned the land. He ought to have said: “Why, + that's my land. I bought it of that drunken 'Lige Curtis for a song and + out of charity.” Yes, that was the only real trouble, and that came from + his own goodness, his own extravagant sense of justice and right,—his + own cursed good-nature. Yet, on second thoughts, he didn't know why he was + obliged to tell the surveyor. Time enough when the company wanted to buy + the land. As soon as it was settled that 'Lige was dead he'd openly claim + the property. But what if he wasn't dead? or they couldn't find his body? + or he had only disappeared? His plain, matter-of-fact face contracted and + darkened. Of course he couldn't ask the company to wait for him to settle + that point. He had the power to dispose of the property under that paper, + and—he should do it. If 'Lige turned up, that was another matter, + and he and 'Lige could arrange it between them. He was quite firm here, + and oddly enough quite relieved in getting rid of what appeared only a + simple question of detail. He never suspected that he was contemplating + the one irretrievable step, and summarily dismissing the whole ethical + question. + </p> + <p> + He turned away from the stove, opened the back door, and walked with a + more determined step through the passage to the sitting-room. But here he + halted again on the threshold with a quick return of his old habits of + caution. The door was slightly open; apparently his angry outbreak of an + hour ago had not affected the spirits of his daughters, for he could hear + their hilarious voices mingling with those of the strangers. They were + evidently still fortune-telling, but this time it was the prophetic and + divining accents of Mr. Rice addressed to Clementina which were now + plainly audible. + </p> + <p> + “I see heaps of money and a great many friends in the change that is + coming to you. Dear me! how many suitors! But I cannot promise you any + marriage as brilliant as my friend has just offered your sister. You may + be certain, however, that you'll have your own choice in this, as you have + in all things.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for nothing,” said Clementina's voice. “But what are those + horrid black cards beside them?—that's trouble, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Not for you, though near you. Perhaps some one you don't care much for + and don't understand will have a heap of trouble on your account,—yes, + on account of these very riches; see, he follows the ten of diamonds. It + may be a suitor; it may be some one now in the house, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “He means himself, Miss Clementina,” struck in Grant's voice laughingly. + </p> + <p> + “You're not listening, Miss Harkutt,” said Rice with half-serious + reproach. “Perhaps you know who it is?” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Clementina's reply was simply a hurried recognition of her + father's pale face that here suddenly confronted her with the opening + door. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's father!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER III. + </h2> + <p> + In his strange mental condition even the change from Harkutt's feeble + candle to the outer darkness for a moment blinded Elijah Curtis, yet it + was part of that mental condition that he kept moving steadily forward as + in a trance or dream, though at first purposelessly. Then it occurred to + him that he was really looking for his horse, and that the animal was not + there. This for a moment confused and frightened him, first with the + supposition that he had not brought him at all, but that it was part of + his delusion; secondly, with the conviction that without his horse he + could neither proceed on the course suggested by Harkutt, nor take another + more vague one that was dimly in his mind. Yet in his hopeless vacillation + it seemed a relief that now neither was practicable, and that he need do + nothing. Perhaps it was a mysterious providence! + </p> + <p> + The explanation, however, was much simpler. The horse had been taken by + the luxurious and indolent Billings unknown to his companions. Overcome at + the dreadful prospect of walking home in that weather, this perfect + product of lethargic Sidon had artfully allowed Peters and Wingate to + precede him, and, cautiously unloosing the tethered animal, had safely + passed them in the darkness. When he gained his own inclosure he had + lazily dismounted, and, with a sharp cut on the mustang's haunches, sent + him galloping back to rejoin his master, with what result has been already + told by the unsuspecting Peters in the preceding chapter. + </p> + <p> + Yet no conception of this possibility entered 'Lige Curtis's alcoholized + consciousness, part of whose morbid phantasy it was to distort or + exaggerate all natural phenomena. He had a vague idea that he could not go + back to Harkutt's; already his visit seemed to have happened long, long + ago, and could not be repeated. He would walk on, enwrapped in this + uncompromising darkness which concealed everything, suggested everything, + and was responsible for everything. + </p> + <p> + It was very dark, for the wind, having lulled, no longer thinned the veil + of clouds above, nor dissipated a steaming mist that appeared to rise from + the sodden plain. Yet he moved easily through the darkness, seeming to be + upheld by it as something tangible, upon which he might lean. At times he + thought he heard voices,—not a particular voice he was thinking of, + but strange voices—of course unreal to his present fancy. And then + he heard one of these voices, unlike any voice in Sidon, and very faint + and far off, asking if it “was anywhere near Sidon?”—evidently some + one lost like himself. He answered in a voice that seemed quite as unreal + and as faint, and turned in the direction from which it came. There was a + light moving like a will-o'-the-wisp far before him, yet below him as if + coming out of the depths of the earth. It must be fancy, but he would see—ah! + </p> + <p> + He had fallen violently forward, and at the same moment felt his revolver + leap from his breast pocket like a living thing, and an instant after + explode upon the rock where it struck, blindingly illuminating the + declivity down which he was plunging. The sulphurous sting of burning + powder was in his eyes and nose, yet in that swift revealing flash he had + time to clutch the stems of a trailing vine beside him, but not to save + his head from sharp contact with the same rocky ledge that had caught his + pistol. The pain and shock gave way to a sickening sense of warmth at the + roots of his hair. Giddy and faint, his fingers relaxed, he felt himself + sinking, with a languor that was half acquiescence, down, down,—until, + with another shock, a wild gasping for air, and a swift reaction, he awoke + in the cold, rushing water! + </p> + <p> + Clear and perfectly conscious now, though frantically fighting for + existence with the current, he could dimly see a floating black object + shooting by the shore, at times striking the projections of the bank, + until in its recoil it swung half round and drifted broadside on towards + him. He was near enough to catch the frayed ends of a trailing rope that + fastened the structure, which seemed to be a few logs, together. With a + convulsive effort he at last gained a footing upon it, and then fell + fainting along its length. It was the raft which the surveyors from the + embarcadero had just abandoned. + </p> + <p> + He did not know this, nor would he have thought it otherwise strange that + a raft might be a part of the drift of the overflow, even had he been + entirely conscious; but his senses were failing, though he was still able + to keep a secure position on the raft, and to vaguely believe that it + would carry him to some relief and succor. How long he lay unconscious he + never knew; in his after-recollections of that night, it seemed to have + been haunted by dreams of passing dim banks and strange places; of a face + and voice that had been pleasant to him; of a terror coming upon him as he + appeared to be nearing a place like that home that he had abandoned in the + lonely tules. He was roused at last by a violent headache, as if his soft + felt hat had been changed into a tightening crown of iron. Lifting his + hand to his head to tear off its covering, he was surprised to find that + he was wearing no hat, but that his matted hair, stiffened and dried with + blood and ooze, was clinging like a cap to his skull in the hot morning + sunlight. His eyelids and lashes were glued together and weighted down by + the same sanguinary plaster. He crawled to the edge of his frail raft, not + without difficulty, for it oscillated and rocked strangely, and dipped his + hand in the current. When he had cleared his eyes he lifted them with a + shock of amazement. Creeks, banks, and plain had disappeared; he was alone + on a bend of the tossing bay of San Francisco! + </p> + <p> + His first and only sense—cleared by fasting and quickened by + reaction—was one of infinite relief. He was not only free from the + vague terrors of the preceding days and nights, but his whole past seemed + to be lost and sunk forever in this illimitable expanse. The low plain of + Tasajara, with its steadfast monotony of light and shadow, had sunk + beneath another level, but one that glistened, sparkled, was instinct with + varying life, and moved and even danced below him. The low palisades of + regularly recurring tules that had fenced in, impeded, but never relieved + the blankness of his horizon, were forever swallowed up behind him. All + trail of past degradation, all record of pain and suffering, all + footprints of his wandering and misguided feet were smoothly wiped out in + that obliterating sea. He was physically helpless, and he felt it; he was + in danger, and he knew it,—but he was free! + </p> + <p> + Happily there was but little wind and the sea was slight. The raft was + still intact so far as he could judge, but even in his ignorance he knew + it would scarcely stand the surges of the lower bay. Like most + Californians who had passed the straits of Carquinez at night in a + steamer, he did not recognize the locality, nor even the distant peak of + Tamalpais. There were a few dotting sails that seemed as remote, as + uncertain, and as unfriendly as sea birds. The raft was motionless, almost + as motionless as he was in his cramped limbs and sun-dried, stiffened + clothes. Too weak to keep an upright position, without mast, stick, or oar + to lift a signal above that vast expanse, it seemed impossible for him to + attract attention. Even his pistol was gone. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, in an attempt to raise himself, he was struck by a flash so + blinding that it seemed to pierce his aching eyes and brain and turned him + sick. It appeared to come from a crevice between the logs at the further + end of the raft. Creeping painfully towards it he saw that it was a + triangular slip of highly polished metal that he had hitherto overlooked. + He did not know that it was a “flashing” mirror used in topographical + observation, which had slipped from the surveyors' instruments when they + abandoned the raft, but his excited faculties instinctively detected its + value to him. He lifted it, and, facing the sun, raised it at different + angles with his feeble arms. But the effort was too much for him; the raft + presently seemed to be whirling with his movement, and he again fell. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “Ahoy there!” + </p> + <p> + The voice was close upon—in his very ears. He opened his eyes. The + sea still stretched emptily before him; the dotting sails still unchanged + and distant. Yet a strange shadow lay upon the raft. He turned his head + with difficulty. On the opposite side—so close upon him as to be + almost over his head—the great white sails of a schooner hovered + above him like the wings of some enormous sea bird. Then a heavy boom + swung across the raft, so low that it would have swept him away had he + been in an upright position; the sides of the vessel grazed the raft and + she fell slowly off. A terrible fear of abandonment took possession of + him; he tried to speak, but could not. The vessel moved further away, but + the raft followed! He could see now it was being held by a boat-hook,—could + see the odd, eager curiosity on two faces that were raised above the + taffrail, and with that sense of relief his eyes again closed in + unconsciousness. + </p> + <p> + A feeling of chilliness, followed by a grateful sensation of drawing + closer under some warm covering, a stinging taste in his mouth of fiery + liquor and the aromatic steam of hot coffee, were his first returning + sensations. His head and neck were swathed in coarse bandages, and his + skin stiffened and smarting with soap. He was lying in a rude berth under + a half-deck from which he could see the sky and the bellying sail, and + presently a bearded face filled with rough and practical concern that + peered down upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Hulloo! comin' round, eh? Hold on!” The next moment the stranger had + leaped down beside Elijah. He seemed to be an odd mingling of the sailor + and ranchero with the shrewdness of a seaport trader. + </p> + <p> + “Hulloo, boss! What was it? A free fight, or a wash-out?” + </p> + <p> + “A wash-out!”* Elijah grasped the idea as an inspiration. Yes, his cabin + had been inundated, he had taken to a raft, had been knocked off twice or + thrice, and had lost everything—even his revolver! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * A mining term for the temporary inundation of a claim by + flood; also used for the sterilizing effect of flood on + fertile soil. +</pre> + <p> + The man looked relieved. “Then it ain't a free fight, nor havin' your + crust busted and bein' robbed by beach combers, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Elijah, with his first faint smile. + </p> + <p> + “Glad o' that,” said the man bluntly. “Then thar ain't no police business + to tie up to in 'Frisco? We were stuck thar a week once, just because we + chanced to pick up a feller who'd been found gagged and then thrown + overboard by wharf thieves. Had to dance attendance at court thar and lost + our trip.” He stopped and looked half-pathetically at the prostrate + Elijah. “Look yer! ye ain't just dyin' to go ashore NOW and see yer + friends and send messages, are ye?” + </p> + <p> + Elijah shuddered inwardly, but outwardly smiled faintly as he replied, + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “And the tide and wind jest servin' us now, ye wouldn't mind keepin' + straight on with us this trip?” + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” asked Elijah. + </p> + <p> + “Santy Barbara.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Elijah, after a moment's pause. “I'll go with you.” + </p> + <p> + The man leaped to his feet, lifted his head above the upper deck, shouted + “Let her go free, Jerry!” and then turned gratefully to his passenger. + “Look yer! A wash-out is a wash-out, I reckon, put it any way you like; it + don't put anything back into the land, or anything back into your pocket + afterwards, eh? No! And yer well out of it, pardner! Now there's a right + smart chance for locatin' jest back of Santy Barbara, where thar ain't no + God-forsaken tules to overflow; and ez far ez the land and licker lies ye + 'needn't take any water in yours' ef ye don't want it. You kin start fresh + thar, pardner, and brail up. What's the matter with you, old man, is only + fever 'n' agur ketched in them tules! I kin see it in your eyes. Now you + hold on whar you be till I go forrard and see everything taut, and then + I'll come back and we'll have a talk.” + </p> + <p> + And they did. The result of which was that at the end of a week's tossing + and seasickness, Elijah Curtis was landed at Santa Barbara, pale, thin, + but self-contained and resolute. And having found favor in the eyes of the + skipper of the Kitty Hawk, general trader, lumber-dealer, and ranch-man, a + week later he was located on the skipper's land and installed in the + skipper's service. And from that day, for five years Sidon and Tasajara + knew him no more. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER IV. + </h2> + <p> + It was part of the functions of John Milton Harkutt to take down the early + morning shutters and sweep out the store for his father each day before + going to school. It was a peculiarity of this performance that he was apt + to linger over it, partly from the fact that it put off the evil hour of + lessons, partly that he imparted into the process a purely imaginative and + romantic element gathered from his latest novel-reading. In this he was + usually assisted by one or two school-fellows on their way to school, who + always envied him his superior menial occupation. To go to school, it was + felt, was a common calamity of boyhood that called into play only the + simplest forms of evasion, whereas to take down actual shutters in a bona + fide store, and wield a real broom that raised a palpable cloud of dust, + was something that really taxed the noblest exertions. And it was the + morning after the arrival of the strangers that John Milton stood on the + veranda of the store ostentatiously examining the horizon, with his hand + shading his eyes, as one of his companions appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Hollo, Milt! wot yer doin'?” + </p> + <p> + John Milton started dramatically, and then violently dashed at one of the + shutters and began to detach it. “Ha!” he said hoarsely. “Clear the ship + for action! Open the ports! On deck there! Steady, you lubbers!” In an + instant his enthusiastic school-fellow was at his side attacking another + shutter. “A long, low schooner bearing down upon us! Lively, lads, + lively!” continued John Milton, desisting a moment to take another + dramatic look at the distant plain. “How does she head now?” he demanded + fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Sou' by sou'east, sir,” responded the other boy, frantically dancing + before the window. “But she'll weather it.” + </p> + <p> + They each then wrested another shutter away, violently depositing them, as + they ran to and fro, in a rack at the corner of the veranda. Added to an + extraordinary and unnecessary clattering with their feet, they accompanied + their movements with a singular hissing sound, supposed to indicate in one + breath the fury of the elements, the bustle of the eager crew, and the + wild excitement of the coming conflict. When the last shutter was cleared + away, John Milton, with the cry “Man the starboard guns!” dashed into the + store, whose floor was marked by the muddy footprints of yesterday's + buyers, seized a broom and began to sweep violently. A cloud of dust + arose, into which his companion at once precipitated himself with another + broom and a loud BANG! to indicate the somewhat belated sound of cannon. + For a few seconds the two boys plied their brooms desperately in that + stifling atmosphere, accompanying each long sweep and puff of dust out of + the open door with the report of explosions and loud HA'S! of defiance, + until not only the store, but the veranda was obscured with a cloud which + the morning sun struggled vainly to pierce. In the midst of this tumult + and dusty confusion—happily unheard and unsuspected in the secluded + domestic interior of the building—a shrill little voice arose from + the road. + </p> + <p> + “Think you're mighty smart, don't ye?” + </p> + <p> + The two naval heroes stopped in their imaginary fury, and, as the dust of + conflict cleared away, recognized little Johnny Peters gazing at them with + mingled inquisitiveness and envy. + </p> + <p> + “Guess ye don't know what happened down the run last night,” he continued + impatiently. “'Lige Curtis got killed, or killed hisself! Blood all over + the rock down thar. Seed it, myseff. Dad picked up his six-shooter,—one + barrel gone off. My dad was the first to find it out, and he's bin to + Squire Kerby tellin' him.” + </p> + <p> + The two companions, albeit burning with curiosity, affected indifference + and pre-knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “Dad sez your father druv 'Lige outer the store lass night! Dad sez your + father's 'sponsible. Dad sez your father ez good ez killed him. Dad sez + the squire'll set the constable on your father. Yah!” But here the small + insulter incontinently fled, pursued by both the boys. Nevertheless, when + he had made good his escape, John Milton showed neither a disposition to + take up his former nautical role, nor to follow his companion to visit the + sanguinary scene of Elijah's disappearance. He walked slowly back to the + store and continued his work of sweeping and putting in order with an + abstracted regularity, and no trace of his former exuberant spirits. + </p> + <p> + The first one of those instinctive fears which are common to imaginative + children, and often assume the functions of premonition, had taken + possession of him. The oddity of his father's manner the evening before, + which had only half consciously made its indelible impression on his + sensitive fancy, had recurred to him with Johnny Peters's speech. He had + no idea of literally accepting the boy's charges; he scarcely understood + their gravity; but he had a miserable feeling that his father's anger and + excitement last night was because he had been discovered hunting in the + dark for that paper of 'Lige Curtis's. It WAS 'Lige Curtis's paper, for he + had seen it lying there. A sudden dreadful conviction came over him that + he must never, never let any one know that he had seen his father take up + that paper; that he must never admit it, even to HIM. It was not the boy's + first knowledge of that attitude of hypocrisy which the grownup world + assumes towards childhood, and in which the innocent victims eventually + acquiesce with a Machiavellian subtlety that at last avenges them,—but + it was his first knowledge that that hypocrisy might not be so innocent. + His father had concealed something from him, because it was not right. + </p> + <p> + But if childhood does not forget, it seldom broods and is not above being + diverted. And the two surveyors—of whose heroic advent in a raft + John Milton had only heard that morning with their traveled ways, their + strange instruments and stranger talk, captured his fancy. Kept in the + background by his sisters when visitors came, as an unpresentable feature + in the household, he however managed to linger near the strangers when, in + company with Euphemia and Clementina, after breakfast they strolled + beneath the sparkling sunlight in the rude garden inclosure along the + sloping banks of the creek. It was with the average brother's supreme + contempt that he listened to his sisters' “practicin'” upon the goodness + of these superior beings; it was with an exceptional pity that he regarded + the evident admiration of the strangers in return. He felt that in the + case of Euphemia, who sometimes evinced a laudable curiosity in his + pleasures, and a flattering ignorance of his reading, this might be + pardonable; but what any one could find in the useless statuesque + Clementina passed his comprehension. Could they not see at once that she + was “just that kind of person” who would lie abed in the morning, + pretending she was sick, in order to make Phemie do the housework, and + make him, John Milton, clean her boots and fetch things for her? Was it + not perfectly plain to them that her present sickening politeness was + solely with a view to extract from them caramels, rock-candy, and gum + drops, which she would meanly keep herself, and perhaps some + “buggy-riding” later? Alas, John Milton, it was not! For standing there + with her tall, perfectly-proportioned figure outlined against a willow, an + elastic branch of which she had drawn down by one curved arm above her + head, and on which she leaned—as everybody leaned against something + in Sidon—the two young men saw only a straying goddess in a + glorified rosebud print. Whether the clearly-cut profile presented to + Rice, or the full face that captivated Grant, each suggested possibilities + of position, pride, poetry, and passion that astonished while it + fascinated them. By one of those instincts known only to the freemasonry + of the sex, Euphemia lent herself to this advertisement of her sister's + charms by subtle comparison with her own prettinesses, and thus combined + against their common enemy, man. + </p> + <p> + “Clementina certainly is perfect, to keep her supremacy over that pretty + little sister,” thought Rice. + </p> + <p> + “What a fascinating little creature to hold her own against that tall, + handsome girl,” thought Grant. + </p> + <p> + “They're takin' stock o' them two fellers so as to gabble about 'em when + their backs is turned,” said John Milton gloomily to himself, with a + dismal premonition of the prolonged tea-table gossip he would be obliged + to listen to later. + </p> + <p> + “We were very fortunate to make a landing at all last night,” said Rice, + looking down upon the still swollen current, and then raising his eyes to + Clementina. “Still more fortunate to make it where we did. I suppose it + must have been the singing that lured us on to the bank,—as, you + know, the sirens used to lure people,—only with less disastrous + consequences.” + </p> + <p> + John Milton here detected three glaring errors; first, it was NOT + Clementina who had sung; secondly, he knew that neither of his sisters had + ever read anything about sirens, but he had; thirdly, that the young + surveyor was glaringly ignorant of local phenomena and should be + corrected. + </p> + <p> + “It's nothin' but the current,” he said, with that feverish youthful haste + that betrays a fatal experience of impending interruption. “It's always + leavin' drift and rubbish from everywhere here. There ain't anythin' + that's chucked into the creek above that ain't bound to fetch up on this + bank. Why, there was two sheep and a dead hoss here long afore YOU thought + of coming!” He did not understand why this should provoke the laughter + that it did, and to prove that he had no ulterior meaning, added with + pointed politeness, “So IT ISN'T YOUR FAULT, you know—YOU couldn't + help it;” supplementing this with the distinct courtesy, “otherwise you + wouldn't have come.” + </p> + <p> + “But it would seem that your visitors are not all as accidental as your + brother would imply, and one, at least, seems to have been expected last + evening. You remember you thought we were a Mr. Parmlee,” said Mr. Rice + looking at Clementina. + </p> + <p> + It would be strange indeed, he thought, if the beautiful girl were not + surrounded by admirers. But without a trace of self-consciousness, or any + change in her reposeful face, she indicated her sister with a slight + gesture, and said: “One of Phemie's friends. He gave her the accordion. + She's very popular.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose YOU are very hard to please?” he said with a tentative + smile. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with her large, clear eyes, and that absence of coquetry + or changed expression in her beautiful face which might have stood for + indifference or dignity as she said: “I don't know. I am waiting to see.” + </p> + <p> + But here Miss Phemie broke in saucily with the assertion that Mr. Parmlee + might not have a railroad in his pocket, but that at least he didn't have + to wait for the Flood to call on young ladies, nor did he usually come in + pairs, for all the world as if he had been let out of Noah's Ark, but on + horseback and like a Christian by the front door. All this provokingly and + bewitchingly delivered, however, and with a simulated exaggeration that + was incited apparently more by Mr. Lawrence Grant's evident enjoyment of + it, than by any desire to defend the absent Parmlee. + </p> + <p> + “But where is the front door?” asked Grant laughingly. + </p> + <p> + The young girl pointed to a narrow zigzag path that ran up the bank beside + the house until it stopped at a small picketed gate on the level of the + road and store. + </p> + <p> + “But I should think it would be easier to have a door and private passage + through the store,” said Grant. + </p> + <p> + “WE don't,” said the young lady pertly, “we have nothing to do with the + store. I go in to see paw sometimes when he's shutting up and there's + nobody there, but Clem has never set foot in it since we came. It's bad + enough to have it and the lazy loafers that hang around it as near to us + as they are; but paw built the house in such a fashion that we ain't + troubled by their noise, and we might be t'other side of the creek as far + as our having to come across them. And because paw has to sell pork and + flour, we haven't any call to go there and watch him do it.” + </p> + <p> + The two men glanced at each other. This reserve and fastidiousness were + something rare in a pioneer community. Harkutt's manners certainly did not + indicate that he was troubled by this sensitiveness; it must have been + some individual temperament of his daughters. Stephen felt his respect + increase for the goddess-like Clementina; Mr. Lawrence Grant looked at + Miss Phemie with a critical smile. + </p> + <p> + “But you must be very limited in your company,” he said; “or is Mr. + Parmlee not a customer of your father's?” + </p> + <p> + “As Mr. Parmlee does not come to us through the store, and don't talk + trade to me, we don't know,” responded Phemie saucily. + </p> + <p> + “But have you no lady acquaintances—neighbors—who also avoid + the store and enter only at the straight and narrow gate up there?” + continued Grant mischievously, regardless of the uneasy, half-reproachful + glances of Rice. + </p> + <p> + But Phemie, triumphantly oblivious of any satire, answered promptly: “If + you mean the Pike County Billingses who live on the turnpike road as much + as they do off it, or the six daughters of that Georgia Cracker who wear + men's boots and hats, we haven't.” + </p> + <p> + “And Mr. Parmlee, your admirer?” suggested Rice. “Hasn't he a mother or + sisters here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but they don't want to know us, and have never called here.” + </p> + <p> + The embarrassment of the questioner at this unexpected reply, which came + from the faultless lips of Clementina, was somewhat mitigated by the fact + that the young woman's voice and manner betrayed neither annoyance nor + anger. + </p> + <p> + Here, however, Harkutt appeared from the house with the information that + he had secured two horses for the surveyors and their instruments, and + that he would himself accompany them a part of the way on their return to + Tasajara Creek, to show them the road. His usual listless deliberation had + given way to a certain nervous but uneasy energy. If they started at once + it would be better, before the loungers gathered at the store and confused + them with lazy counsel and languid curiosity. He took it for granted that + Mr. Grant wished the railroad survey to be a secret, and he had said + nothing, as they would be pestered with questions. “Sidon was inquisitive—and + old-fashioned.” The benefit its inhabitants would get from the railroad + would not prevent them from throwing obstacles in its way at first; he + remembered the way they had acted with a proposed wagon road,—in + fact, an idea of his own, something like the railroad; he knew them + thoroughly, and if he might advise them, it would be to say nothing here + until the thing was settled. + </p> + <p> + “He evidently does not intend to give us a chance,” said Grant + good-humoredly to his companion, as they turned to prepare for their + journey; “we are to be conducted in silence to the outskirts of the town + like horse-thieves.” + </p> + <p> + “But you gave him the tip for himself,” said Rice reproachfully; “you + cannot blame him for wanting to keep it.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave it to him in trust for his two incredible daughters,” said Grant + with a grimace. “But, hang it! if I don't believe the fellow has more + concern in it than I imagined.” + </p> + <p> + “But isn't she perfect?” said Rice, with charming abstraction. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Clementina, and so unlike her father.” + </p> + <p> + “Discomposingly so,” said Grant quietly. “One feels in calling her 'Miss + Harkutt' as if one were touching upon a manifest indiscretion. But here + comes John Milton. Well, my lad, what can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + The boy, who had been regarding them from a distance with wistful and + curious eyes as they replaced their instruments for the journey, had + gradually approached them. After a moment's timid hesitation he said, + looking at Grant: “You don't know anybody in this kind o' business,” + pointing to the instruments, “who'd like a boy, about my size?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid not, J. M.,” said Grant, cheerfully, without suspending his + operation. “The fact is, you see, it's not exactly the kind of work for a + boy of your size.” + </p> + <p> + John Milton was silent for a moment, shifting himself slowly from one leg + to another as he watched the surveyor. After a pause he said, “There don't + seem to be much show in this world for boys o' my size. There don't seem + to be much use for 'em any way.” This not bitterly, but philosophically, + and even politely, as if to relieve Grant's rejection of any incivility. + </p> + <p> + “Really you quite pain me, John Milton,” said Grant, looking up as he + tightened a buckle. “I never thought of it before, but you're right.” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued the boy slowly, “with girls it's just different. Girls of + my size everybody does things for. There's Clemmy,—she's only two + years older nor me, and don't know half that I do, and yet she kin lie + about all day, and hasn't to get up to breakfast. And Phemie,—who's + jest the same age, size, and weight as me,—maw and paw lets her do + everything she wants to. And so does everybody. And so would you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you surely don't want to be like a girl?” said Grant, smiling. + </p> + <p> + It here occurred to John Milton's youthful but not illogical mind that + this was not argument, and he turned disappointedly away. As his father + was to accompany the strangers a short distance, he, John Milton, was + to-day left in charge of the store. That duty, however, did not involve + any pecuniary transactions—the taking of money or making of change + but a simple record on a slate behind the counter of articles selected by + those customers whose urgent needs could not wait Mr. Harkutt's return. + Perhaps on account of this degrading limitation, perhaps for other + reasons, the boy did not fancy the task imposed upon him. The presence of + the idle loungers who usually occupied the armchairs near the stove, and + occasionally the counter, dissipated any romance with which he might have + invested his charge; he wearied of the monotony of their dull gossip, but + mostly he loathed the attitude of hypercritical counsel and instruction + which they saw fit to assume towards him at such moments. “Instead o' + lazin' thar behind the counter when your father ain't here to see ye, + John,” remarked Billings from the depths of his armchair a few moments + after Harkutt had ridden away, “ye orter be bustlin' round, dustin' the + shelves. Ye'll never come to anythin' when you're a man ef you go on like + that. Ye never heard o' Harry Clay—that was called 'the Mill-boy of + the Slashes'—sittin' down doin' nothin' when he was a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I never heard of him loafin' round in a grocery store when he was growned + up either,” responded John Milton, darkly. + </p> + <p> + “P'r'aps you reckon he got to be a great man by standin' up sassin' his + father's customers,” said Peters, angrily. “I kin tell ye, young man, if + you was my boy”— + </p> + <p> + “If I was YOUR boy, I'd be playin' hookey instead of goin' to school, jest + as your boy is doin' now,” interrupted John Milton, with a literal + recollection of his quarrel and pursuit of the youth in question that + morning. + </p> + <p> + An undignified silence on the part of the adults followed, the usual + sequel to those passages; Sidon generally declining to expose itself to + the youthful Harkutt's terrible accuracy of statement. + </p> + <p> + The men resumed their previous lazy gossip about Elijah Curtis's + disappearance, with occasional mysterious allusions in a lower tone, which + the boy instinctively knew referred to his father, but which either from + indolence or caution, the two great conservators of Sidon, were never + formulated distinctly enough for his relentless interference. The morning + sunshine was slowly thickening again in an indolent mist that seemed to + rise from the saturated plain. A stray lounger shuffled over from the + blacksmith's shop to the store to take the place of another idler who had + joined an equally lethargic circle around the slumbering forge. A dull + intermittent sound of hammering came occasionally from the wheelwright's + shed—at sufficiently protracted intervals to indicate the enfeebled + progress of Sidon's vehicular repair. A yellow dog left his patch of + sunlight on the opposite side of the way and walked deliberately over to + what appeared to be more luxurious quarters on the veranda; was manifestly + disappointed but not equal to the exertion of returning, and sank down + with blinking eyes and a regretful sigh without going further. A + procession of six ducks got well into a line for a laborious “march past” + the store, but fell out at the first mud puddle and gave it up. A highly + nervous but respectable hen, who had ventured upon the veranda evidently + against her better instincts, walked painfully on tiptoe to the door, + apparently was met by language which no mother of a family could listen + to, and retired in strong hysterics. A little later the sun became again + obscured, the wind arose, rain fell, and the opportunity for going indoors + and doing nothing was once more availed of by all Sidon. + </p> + <p> + It was afternoon when Mr. Harkutt returned. He did not go into the store, + but entered the dwelling from the little picket-gate and steep path. There + he called a family council in the sitting-room as being the most reserved + and secure. Mrs. Harkutt, sympathizing and cheerfully ready for any + affliction, still holding a dust-cloth in her hand, took her seat by the + window, with Phemie breathless and sparkling at one side of her, while + Clementina, all faultless profile and repose, sat on the other. To Mrs. + Harkutt's motherly concern at John Milton's absence, it was pointed out + that he was wanted at the store,—was a mere boy anyhow, and could + not be trusted. Mr. Harkutt, a little ruddier from weather, excitement, + and the unusual fortification of a glass of liquor, a little more rugged + in the lines of his face, and with an odd ring of defiant self-assertion + in his voice, stood before them in the centre of the room. + </p> + <p> + He wanted them to listen to him carefully, to remember what he said, for + it was important; it might be a matter of “lawing” hereafter,—and he + couldn't be always repeating it to them,—he would have enough to do. + There was a heap of it that, as women-folks, they couldn't understand, and + weren't expected to. But he'd got it all clear now, and what he was saying + was gospel. He'd always known to himself that the only good that could + ever come to Sidon would come by railroad. When those fools talked wagon + road he had said nothing, but he had his own ideas; he had worked for that + idea without saying anything to anybody; that idea was to get possession + of all the land along the embarcadero, which nobody cared for, and 'Lige + Curtis was ready to sell for a song. Well, now, considering what had + happened, he didn't mind telling them that he had been gradually getting + possession of it, little by little, paying 'Lige Curtis in advances and + installments, until it was his own! They had heard what those surveyors + said; how that it was the only fit terminus for the railroad. Well, that + land, and that water-front, and the terminus were HIS! And all from his + own foresight and prudence. + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that this was not the truth. But it is necessary to + point out that this fabrication was the result of his last night's + cogitations and his morning's experience. He had resolved upon a bold + course. He had reflected that his neighbors would be more ready to believe + in and to respect a hard, mercenary, and speculative foresight in his + taking advantage of 'Lige's necessities than if he had—as was the + case—merely benefited by them through an accident of circumstance + and good humor. In the latter case he would be envied and hated; in the + former he would be envied and feared. By logic of circumstance the greater + wrong seemed to be less obviously offensive than the minor fault. It was + true that it involved the doing of something he had not contemplated, and + the certainty of exposure if 'Lige ever returned, but he was nevertheless + resolved. The step from passive to active wrong-doing is not only easy, it + is often a relief; it is that return to sincerity which we all require. + Howbeit, it gave that ring of assertion to Daniel Harkutt's voice already + noted, which most women like, and only men are prone to suspect or + challenge. The incompleteness of his statement was, for the same reason, + overlooked by his feminine auditors. + </p> + <p> + “And what is it worth, dad?” asked Phemie eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Grant says I oughter get at least ten thousand dollars for the site of + the terminus from the company, but of course I shall hold on to the rest + of the land. The moment they get the terminus there, and the depot and + wharf built, I can get my own price and buyers for the rest. Before the + year is out Grant thinks it ought to go up ten per cent on the value of + the terminus, and that a hundred thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dad!” gasped Phemie, frantically clasping her knees with both hands + as if to perfectly assure herself of this good fortune. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harkutt audibly murmured “Poor dear Dan'l,” and stood, as it were, + sympathetically by, ready to commiserate the pains and anxieties of wealth + as she had those of poverty. Clementina alone remained silent, clear-eyed, + and unchanged. + </p> + <p> + “And to think it all came through THEM!” continued Phemie. “I always had + an idea that Mr. Grant was smart, dad. And it was real kind of him to tell + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon father could have found it out without them. I don't know why we + should be beholden to them particularly. I hope he isn't expected to let + them think that he is bound to consider them our intimate friends just + because they happened to drop in here at a time when his plans have + succeeded.” + </p> + <p> + The voice was Clementina's, unexpected but quiet, unemotional and + convincing. “It seemed,” as Mrs. Harkutt afterwards said, “as if the child + had already touched that hundred thousand.” Phemie reddened with a sense + of convicted youthful extravagance. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't fear for me,” said Harkutt, responding to Clementina's voice + as if it were an echo of his own, and instinctively recognizing an + unexpected ally. “I've got my own ideas of this thing, and what's to come + of it. I've got my own ideas of openin' up that property and showin' its + resources. I'm goin' to run it my own way. I'm goin' to have a town along + the embarcadero that'll lay over any town in Contra Costa. I'm goin' to + have the court-house and county seat there, and a couple of hotels as good + as any in the Bay. I'm goin' to build that wagon road through here that + those lazy louts slipped up on, and carry it clear over to Five Mile + Corner, and open up the whole Tasajara Plain!” + </p> + <p> + They had never seen him look so strong, so resolute, so intelligent and + handsome. A dimly prophetic vision of him in a black broadcloth suit and + gold watch-chain addressing a vague multitude, as she remembered to have + seen the Hon. Stanley Riggs of Alasco at the “Great Barbecue,” rose before + Phemie's blue enraptured eyes. With the exception of Mrs. Harkutt,—equal + to any possibilities on the part of her husband,—they had honestly + never expected it of him. They were pleased with their father's attitude + in prosperity, and felt that perhaps he was not unworthy of being proud of + them hereafter. + </p> + <p> + “But we're goin' to leave Sidon,” said Phemie, “ain't we, paw?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I can run up a new house at the embarcadero,” said Harkutt + peevishly, “and that's got to be done mighty quick if I want to make a + show to the company and be in possession.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's easier for you to do, dear, now that 'Lige's disappeared,” + said Mrs. Harkutt consolingly. + </p> + <p> + “What do ye mean by that? What the devil are ye talkin' about?” demanded + Harkutt suddenly with unexpected exasperation. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that that drunken 'Lige would be mighty poor company for the girls + if he was our only neighbor,” returned Mrs. Harkutt submissively. + </p> + <p> + Harkutt, after a fixed survey of his wife, appeared mollified. The two + girls, who were mindful of his previous outburst the evening before, + exchanged glances which implied that his manners needed correction for + prosperity. + </p> + <p> + “You'll want a heap o' money to build there, Dan'l,” said Mrs. Harkutt in + plaintive diffidence. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes!” said Harkutt impatiently. “I've kalkilated all that, and I'm + goin' to 'Frisco to-morrow to raise it and put this bill of sale on + record.” He half drew Elijah Curtis's paper from his pocket, but paused + and put it back again. + </p> + <p> + “Then THAT WAS the paper, dad,” said Phemie triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said her father, regarding her fixedly, “and you know now why I + didn't want anything said about it last night—nor even now.” + </p> + <p> + “And 'Lige had just given it to you! Wasn't it lucky?” + </p> + <p> + “He HADN'T just given it to me!” said her father with another unexpected + outburst. “God Amighty! ain't I tellin' you all the time it was an old + matter! But you jabber, jabber all the time and don't listen! Where's John + Milton?” It had occurred to him that the boy might have read the paper—as + his sister had—while it lay unheeded on the counter. + </p> + <p> + “In the store,—you know. You said he wasn't to hear anything of + this, but I'll call him,” said Mrs. Harkutt, rising eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” returned her husband, stopping her reflectively, “best leave + it as it is; if it's necessary I'll tell him. But don't any of you say + anything, do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless a few hours later, when the store was momentarily free of + loungers, and Harkutt had relieved his son of his monotonous charge, he + made a pretense, while abstractedly listening to an account of the boy's + stewardship, to look through a drawer as if in search of some missing + article. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't see anything of a paper I left somewhere about here + yesterday?” he asked carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “The one you picked up when you came in last night?” said the boy with + discomposing directness. + </p> + <p> + Harkutt flushed slightly and drew his breath between his set teeth. Not + only could he place no reliance upon ordinary youthful inattention, but he + must be on his guard against his own son as from a spy! But he restrained + himself. + </p> + <p> + “I don't remember,” he said with affected deliberation, “what it was I + picked up. Do you? Did you read it?” + </p> + <p> + The meaning of his father's attitude instinctively flashed upon the boy. + He HAD read the paper, but he answered, as he had already determined, + “No.” + </p> + <p> + An inspiration seized Mr. Harkutt. He drew 'Lige Curtis's bill of sale + from his pocket, and opening it before John Milton said, “Was it that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said the boy. “I couldn't tell.” He walked away with + affected carelessness, already with a sense of playing some part like his + father, and pretended to whistle for the dog across the street. Harkutt + coughed ostentatiously, put the paper back in his pocket, set one or two + boxes straight on the counter, locked the drawer, and disappeared into the + back passage. John Milton remained standing in the doorway looking + vacantly out. But he did not see the dull familiar prospect beyond. He + only saw the paper his father had opened and unfolded before him. It was + the same paper he had read last night. But there were three words written + there THAT WERE NOT THERE BEFORE! After the words “Value received” there + had been a blank. He remembered that distinctly. This was filled in by the + words, “Five hundred dollars.” The handwriting did not seem like his + father's, nor yet entirely like 'Lige Curtis's. What it meant he did not + know,—he would not try to think. He should forget it, as he had + tried to forget what had happened before, and he should never tell it to + any one! + </p> + <p> + There was a feverish gayety in his sisters' manner that afternoon that he + did not understand; short colloquies that were suspended with ill + concealed impatience when he came near them, and resumed when he was sent, + on equally palpable excuses, out of the room. He had been accustomed to + this exclusion when there were strangers present, but it seemed odd to him + now, when the conversation did not even turn upon the two superior + visitors who had been there, and of whom he confidently expected they + would talk. Such fragments as he overheard were always in the future + tense, and referred to what they intended to do. His mother, whose + affection for him had always been shown in excessive and depressing + commiseration of him in even his lightest moments, that afternoon seemed + to add a prophetic and Cassandra-like sympathy for some vague future of + his that would require all her ministration. “You won't need them new + boots, Milty dear, in the changes that may be comin' to ye; so don't be + bothering your poor father in his worriments over his new plans.” + </p> + <p> + “What new plans, mommer?” asked the boy abruptly. “Are we goin' away from + here?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, dear, and don't ask questions that's enough for grown folks to + worry over, let alone a boy like you. Now be good,”—a quality in + Mrs. Harkutt's mind synonymous with ceasing from troubling,—“and + after supper, while I'm in the parlor with your father and sisters, you + kin sit up here by the fire with your book.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” persisted the boy in a flash of inspiration, “is popper goin' to + join in business with those surveyors,—a surveyin'?” + </p> + <p> + “No, child, what an idea! Run away there,—and mind!—don't + bother your father.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless John Milton's inspiration had taken a new and characteristic + shape. All this, he reflected, had happened since the surveyors came—since + they had weakly displayed such a shameless and unmanly interest in his + sisters! It could have but one meaning. He hung around the sitting-room + and passages until he eventually encountered Clementina, taller than ever, + evidently wearing a guilty satisfaction in her face, engrafted upon that + habitual bearing of hers which he had always recognized as belonging to a + vague but objectionable race whose members were individually known to him + as “a proudy.” + </p> + <p> + “Which of those two surveyor fellows is it, Clemmy?” he said with an + engaging smile, yet halting at a strategic distance. + </p> + <p> + “Is what?” + </p> + <p> + “Wot you're goin' to marry.” + </p> + <p> + “Idiot!” + </p> + <p> + “That ain't tellin' which,” responded the boy darkly. + </p> + <p> + Clementina swept by him into the sitting-room, where he heard her declare + that “really that boy was getting too low and vulgar for anything.” Yet it + struck him, that being pressed for further explanation, she did NOT + specify why. This was “girls' meanness!” + </p> + <p> + Howbeit he lingered late in the road that evening, hearing his father + discuss with the search-party that had followed the banks of the creek, + vainly looking for further traces of the missing 'Lige, the possibility of + his being living or dead, of the body having been carried away by the + current to the bay or turning up later in some distant marsh when the + spring came with low water. One who had been to his cabin beside the + embarcadero reported that it was, as had been long suspected, barely + habitable, and contained neither books, papers, nor records which would + indicate his family or friends. It was a God-forsaken, dreary, worthless + place; he wondered how a white man could ever expect to make a living + there. If Elijah never turned up again it certainly would be a long time + before any squatter would think of taking possession of it. John Milton + knew instinctively, without looking up, that his father's eyes were fixed + upon him, and he felt himself constrained to appear to be abstracted in + gazing down the darkening road. Then he heard his father say, with what he + felt was an equal assumption of carelessness: “Yes, I reckon I've got + somewhere a bill of sale of that land that I had to take from 'Lige for an + old bill, but I kalkilate that's all I'll ever see of it.” + </p> + <p> + Rain fell again as the darkness gathered, but he still loitered on the + road and the sloping path of the garden, filled with a half resentful + sense of wrong, and hugging with gloomy pride an increasing sense of + loneliness and of getting dangerously wet. The swollen creek still + whispered, murmured and swirled beside the bank. At another time he might + have had wild ideas of emulating the surveyors on some extempore raft and + so escaping his present dreary home existence; but since the disappearance + of 'Lige, who had always excited an odd boyish antipathy in his heart, + although he had never seen him, he shunned the stream contaminated with + the missing man's unheroic fate. Presently the light from the open window + of the sitting-room glittered on the wet leaves and sprays where he stood, + and the voices of the family conclave came fitfully to his ear. They + didn't want him there. They had never thought of asking him to come in. + Well!—who cared? And he wasn't going to be bought off with a candle + and a seat by the kitchen fire. No! + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless he was getting wet to no purpose. There was the tool-house + and carpenter's shed near the bank; its floor was thickly covered with + sawdust and pine-wood shavings, and there was a mouldy buffalo skin which + he had once transported thither from the old wagon-bed. There, too, was + his secret cache of a candle in a bottle, buried with other piratical + treasures in the presence of the youthful Peters, who consented to be + sacrificed on the spot in buccaneering fashion to complete the unhallowed + rites. He unearthed the candle, lit it, and clearing away a part of the + shavings stood it up on the floor. He then brought a prized, battered, and + coverless volume from a hidden recess in the rafters, and lying down with + the buffalo robe over him, and his cap in his hand ready to extinguish the + light at the first footstep of a trespasser, gave himself up—as he + had given himself up, I fear, many other times—to the enchantment of + the page before him. + </p> + <p> + The current whispered, murmured, and sang, unheeded at his side. The + voices of his mother and sisters, raised at times in eagerness or + expectation of the future, fell upon his unlistening ears. For with the + spell that had come upon him, the mean walls of his hiding-place melted + away; the vulgar stream beside him might have been that dim, subterraneous + river down which Sindbad and his bale of riches were swept out of the Cave + of Death to the sunlight of life and fortune, so surely and so simply had + it transported him beyond the cramped and darkened limits of his present + life. He was in the better world of boyish romance,—of gallant deeds + and high emprises; of miraculous atonement and devoted sacrifice; of brave + men, and those rarer, impossible women,—the immaculate conception of + a boy's virgin heart. What mattered it that behind that glittering window + his mother and sisters grew feverish and excited over the vulgar details + of their real but baser fortune? From the dark tool-shed by the muddy + current, John Milton, with a battered dogs'-eared chronicle, soared on the + wings of fancy far beyond their wildest ken! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER V. + </h2> + <p> + Prosperity had settled upon the plains of Tasajara. Not only had the + embarcadero emerged from the tules of Tasajara Creek as a thriving town of + steamboat wharves, warehouses, and outlying mills and factories, but in + five years the transforming railroad had penetrated the great plain itself + and revealed its undeveloped fertility. The low-lying lands that had been + yearly overflowed by the creek, now drained and cultivated, yielded + treasures of wheat and barley that were apparently inexhaustible. Even the + helpless indolence of Sidon had been surprised into activity and change. + There was nothing left of the straggling settlement to recall its former + aspect. The site of Harkutt's old store and dwelling was lost and + forgotten in the new mill and granary that rose along the banks of the + creek. Decay leaves ruin and traces for the memory to linger over; + prosperity is unrelenting in its complete and smiling obliteration of the + past. + </p> + <p> + But Tasajara City, as the embarcadero was now called, had no previous + record, and even the former existence of an actual settler like the + forgotten Elijah Curtis was unknown to the present inhabitants. It was + Daniel Harkutt's idea carried out in Daniel Harkutt's land, with Daniel + Harkutt's capital and energy. But Daniel Harkutt had become Daniel + Harcourt, and Harcourt Avenue, Harcourt Square, and Harcourt House, + ostentatiously proclaimed the new spelling of his patronymic. When the + change was made and for what reason, who suggested it and under what + authority, were not easy to determine, as the sign on his former store had + borne nothing but the legend, Goods and Provisions, and his name did not + appear on written record until after the occupation of Tasajara; but it is + presumed that it was at the instigation of his daughters, and there was no + one to oppose it. Harcourt was a pretty name for a street, a square, or a + hotel; even the few in Sidon who had called it Harkutt admitted that it + was an improvement quite consistent with the change from the fever-haunted + tules and sedges of the creek to the broad, level, and handsome squares of + Tasajara City. + </p> + <p> + This might have been the opinion of a visitor at the Harcourt House, who + arrived one summer afternoon from the Stockton boat, but whose shrewd, + half-critical, half-professional eyes and quiet questionings betrayed some + previous knowledge of the locality. Seated on the broad veranda of the + Harcourt House, and gazing out on the well-kept green and young eucalyptus + trees of the Harcourt Square or Plaza, he had elicited a counter question + from a prosperous-looking citizen who had been lounging at his side. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you look ez if you might have been here before, stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the stranger quietly, “I have been. But it was when the tules + grew in the square opposite, and the tide of the creek washed them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the Tasajaran, looking curiously at the stranger, “I call + myself a pioneer of Tasajara. My name's Peters,—of Peters and Co.,—and + those warehouses along the wharf, where you landed just now, are mine; but + I was the first settler on Harcourt's land, and built the next cabin after + him. I helped to clear out them tules and dredged the channels yonder. I + took the contract with Harcourt to build the last fifteen miles o' + railroad, and put up that depot for the company. Perhaps you were here + before that?” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” returned the stranger quietly. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Peters, hitching his chair a little nearer to his companion, + “you never knew a kind of broken-down feller, called Curtis—'Lige + Curtis—who once squatted here and sold his right to Harkutt? He + disappeared; it was allowed he killed hisself, but they never found his + body, and, between you and me, I never took stock in that story. You know + Harcourt holds under him, and all Tasajara rests on that title.” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard so,” assented the stranger carelessly, “but I never knew the + original settler. Then Harcourt has been lucky?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet. He's got three millions right about HERE, or within this quarter + section, to say nothing of his outside speculations.” + </p> + <p> + “And lives here?” + </p> + <p> + “Not for two years. That's his old house across the plaza, but his + women-folks live mostly in 'Frisco and New York, where he's got houses + too. They say they sorter got sick of Tasajara after his youngest daughter + ran off with a feller.” + </p> + <p> + “Hallo!” said the stranger with undisguised interest. “I never heard of + that! You don't mean that she eloped”—he hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was a square enough marriage. I reckon too square to suit some + folks; but the fellow hadn't nothin', and wasn't worth shucks,—a + sort of land surveyor, doin' odd jobs, you know; and the old man and old + woman were agin it, and the tother daughter worse of all. It was allowed + here—you know how women-folks talk!—that the surveyor had been + sweet on Clementina, but had got tired of being played by her, and took up + with Phemie out o' spite. Anyhow they got married, and Harcourt gave them + to understand they couldn't expect anything from him. P'raps that's why it + didn't last long, for only about two months ago she got a divorce from + Rice and came back to her family again.” + </p> + <p> + “Rice?” queried the stranger. “Was that her husband's name, Stephen Rice?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon! You knew him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—when the tide came up to the tules, yonder,” answered the + stranger musingly. “And the other daughter,—I suppose she has made a + good match, being a beauty and the sole heiress?” + </p> + <p> + The Tasajaran made a grimace. “Not much! I reckon she's waitin' for the + Angel Gabriel,—there ain't another good enough to suit her here. + They say she's had most of the big men in California waitin' in a line + with their offers, like that cue the fellows used to make at the 'Frisco + post-office steamer days—and she with nary a letter or answer for + any of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Harcourt doesn't seem to have been as fortunate in his family + affairs as in his speculations?” + </p> + <p> + Peters uttered a grim laugh. “Well, I reckon you know all about his son's + stampeding with that girl last spring?” + </p> + <p> + “His son?” interrupted the stranger. “Do you mean the boy they called John + Milton? Why, he was a mere child!” + </p> + <p> + “He was old enough to run away with a young woman that helped in his + mother's house, and marry her afore a justice of the peace. The old man + just snorted with rage, and swore he'd have the marriage put aside, for + the boy was under age. He said it was a put-up job of the girl's; that she + was older by two years, and only wanted to get what money might be comin' + some day, but that they'd never see a red cent of it. Then, they say, John + Milton up and sassed the old man to his face, and allowed that he wouldn't + take his dirty money if he starved first, and that if the old man broke + the marriage he'd marry her again next year; that true love and honorable + poverty were better nor riches, and a lot more o' that stuff he picked out + o' them ten-cent novels he was allus reading. My women-folks say that he + actually liked the girl, because she was the only one in the house that + was ever kind to him; they say the girls were just ragin' mad at the idea + o' havin' a hired gal who had waited on 'em as a sister-in-law, and they + even got old Mammy Harcourt's back up by sayin' that John's wife would + want to rule the house, and run her out of her own kitchen. Some say he + shook THEM, talked back to 'em mighty sharp, and held his head a heap + higher nor them. Anyhow, he's livin' with his wife somewhere in 'Frisco, + in a shanty on a sand lot, and workin' odd jobs for the newspapers. No! + takin' it by and large—it don't look as if Harcourt had run his + family to the same advantage that he has his land.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he doesn't understand them as well,” said the stranger smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Mor'n likely the material ain't thar, or ain't as vallyble for a new + country,” said Peters grimly. “I reckon the trouble is that he lets them + two daughters run him, and the man who lets any woman or women do that, + lets himself in for all their meannesses, and all he gets in return is a + woman's result,—show!” + </p> + <p> + Here the stranger, who was slowly rising from his chair with the polite + suggestion of reluctantly tearing himself from the speaker's spell, said: + “And Harcourt spends most of his time in San Francisco, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! but to-day he's here to attend a directors' meeting and the opening + of the Free Library and Tasajara Hall. I saw the windows open, and the + blinds up in his house across the plaza as I passed just now.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger had by this time quite effected his courteous withdrawal. + “Good-afternoon, Mr. Peters,” he said, smilingly lifting his hat, and + turned away. + </p> + <p> + Peters, who was obliged to take his legs off the chair, and half rise to + the stranger's politeness, here reflected that he did not know his + interlocutor's name and business, and that he had really got nothing in + return for his information. This must be remedied. As the stranger passed + through the hall into the street, followed by the unwonted civilities of + the spruce hotel clerk and the obsequious attentions of the negro porter, + Peters stepped to the window of the office. “Who was that man who just + passed out?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The clerk stared in undisguised astonishment. “You don't mean to say you + didn't know WHO he was—all the while you were talking to him?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” returned Peters, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that was Professor Lawrence Grant!—THE Lawrence Grant—don't + you know?—the biggest scientific man and recognized expert on the + Pacific slope. Why, that's the man whose single word is enough to make or + break the biggest mine or claim going! That man!—why, that's the man + whose opinion's worth thousands, for it carries millions with it—and + can't be bought. That's him who knocked the bottom outer El Dorado last + year, and next day sent Eureka up booming! Ye remember that, sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course—but”—stammered Peters. + </p> + <p> + “And to think you didn't know him!” repeated the hotel clerk wonderingly. + “And here I was reckoning you were getting points from him all the time! + Why, some men would have given a thousand dollars for your chance of + talking to him—yes!—of even being SEEN talking to him. Why, + old Wingate once got a tip on his Prairie Flower lead worth five thousand + dollars while just changing seats with him in the cars and passing the + time of day, sociable like. Why, what DID you talk about?” + </p> + <p> + Peters, with a miserable conviction that he had thrown away a valuable + opportunity in mere idle gossip, nevertheless endeavored to look + mysterious as he replied, “Oh, business gin'rally.” Then in the faint hope + of yet retrieving his blunder he inquired, “How long will he be here?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know. I reckon he and Harcourt's got something on hand. He just + asked if he was likely to be at home or at his office. I told him I + reckoned at the house, for some of the family—I didn't get to see + who they were—drove up in a carriage from the 3.40 train while you + were sitting there.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the subject of this discussion, quite unconscious of the + sensation he had created, or perhaps like most heroes philosophically + careless of it, was sauntering indifferently towards Harcourt's house. But + he had no business with his former host, his only object was to pass an + idle hour before his train left. He was, of course, not unaware that he + himself was largely responsible for Harcourt's success; that it was HIS + hint which had induced the petty trader of Sidon to venture his all in + Tasajara; HIS knowledge of the topography and geology of the plain that + had stimulated Harcourt's agricultural speculations; HIS hydrographic + survey of the creek that had made Harcourt's plan of widening the channel + to commerce practicable and profitable. This he could not help but know. + But that it was chiefly owing to his own clear, cool, far-seeing, but + never visionary, scientific observation,—his own accurate analysis, + unprejudiced by even a savant's enthusiasm, and uninfluenced by any + personal desire or greed of gain,—that Tasajara City had risen from + the stagnant tules, was a speculation that had never occurred to him. + There was a much more uneasy consciousness of what he had done in Mr. + Harcourt's face a few moments later, when his visitor's name was + announced, and it is to be feared that if that name had been less widely + honored and respected than it was, no merely grateful recollection of it + would have procured Grant an audience. As it was, it was with a frown and + a touch of his old impatient asperity that he stepped to the threshold of + an adjoining room and called, “Clemmy!” + </p> + <p> + Clementina appeared at the door. + </p> + <p> + “There's that man Grant in the parlor. What brings HIM here, I wonder? Who + does he come to see?” + </p> + <p> + “Who did he ask for?” + </p> + <p> + “Me,—but that don't mean anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he wants to see you on some business.” + </p> + <p> + “No. That isn't his high-toned style. He makes other people go to him for + that,” he said bitterly. “Anyhow—don't you think it's mighty queer + his coming here after his friend—for it was he who introduced Rice + to us—had behaved so to your sister, and caused all this divorce and + scandal?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he may know nothing about it; he and Rice separated long ago, + even before Grant became so famous. We never saw much of him, you know, + after we came here. Suppose you leave him to ME. I'll see him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harcourt reflected. “Didn't he used to be rather attentive to Phemie?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina shrugged her shoulders carelessly. “I dare say—but I + don't think that NOW”— + </p> + <p> + “Who said anything about NOW?” retorted her father, with a return of his + old abruptness. After a pause he said: “I'll go down and see him first, + and then send for you. You can keep him for the opening and dinner, if you + like.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime Lawrence Grant, serenely unsuspicious of these domestic + confidences, had been shown into the parlor—a large room furnished + in the same style as the drawing-room of the hotel he had just quitted. He + had ample time to note that it was that wonderful Second Empire furniture + which he remembered that the early San Francisco pioneers in the first + flush of their wealth had imported directly from France, and which for + years after gave an unexpected foreign flavor to the western domesticity + and a tawdry gilt equality to saloons and drawing-rooms, public and + private. But he was observant of a corresponding change in Harcourt, when + a moment later he entered the room. That individuality which had kept the + former shopkeeper of Sidon distinct from, although perhaps not superior + to, his customers—was strongly marked. He was perhaps now more + nervously alert than then; he was certainly more impatient than before,—but + that was pardonable in a man of large affairs and action. Grant could not + deny that he seemed improved,—rather perhaps that the setting of + fine clothes, cleanliness, and the absence of petty worries, made his + characteristics respectable. That which is ill breeding in homespun, is + apt to become mere eccentricity in purple and fine linen; Grant felt that + Harcourt jarred on him less than he did before, and was grateful without + superciliousness. Harcourt, relieved to find that Grant was neither + critical nor aggressively reminiscent, and above all not inclined to claim + the credit of creating him and Tasajara, became more confident, more at + his ease, and, I fear, in proportion more unpleasant. It is the repose and + not the struggle of the parvenu that confounds us. + </p> + <p> + “And YOU, Grant,—you have made yourself famous, and, I hear, have + got pretty much your own prices for your opinions ever since it was known + that you—you—er—were connected with the growth of + Tasajara.” + </p> + <p> + Grant smiled; he was not quite prepared for this; but it was amusing and + would pass the time. He murmured a sentence of half ironical deprecation, + and Mr. Harcourt continued:— + </p> + <p> + “I haven't got my San Francisco house here to receive you in, but I hope + some day, sir, to see you there. We are only here for the day and night, + but if you care to attend the opening ceremonies at the new hall, we can + manage to give you dinner afterwards. You can escort my daughter + Clementina,—she's here with me.” + </p> + <p> + The smile of apologetic declination which had begun to form on Grant's + lips was suddenly arrested. “Then your daughter is here?” he asked, with + unaffected interest. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—she is in fact a patroness of the library and sewing-circle, + and takes the greatest interest in it. The Reverend Doctor Pilsbury relies + upon her for everything. She runs the society, even to the training of the + young ladies, sir. You shall see their exercises.” + </p> + <p> + This was certainly a new phase of Clementina's character. Yet why should + she not assume the role of Lady Bountiful with the other functions of her + new condition. “I should have thought Miss Harcourt would have found this + rather difficult with her other social duties,” he said, “and would have + left it to her married sister.” He thought it better not to appear as if + avoiding reference to Euphemia, although quietly ignoring her late + experiences. Mr. Harcourt was less easy in his response. + </p> + <p> + “Now that Euphemia is again with her own family,” he said ponderously, + with an affectation of social discrimination that was in weak contrast to + his usual direct business astuteness, “I suppose she may take her part in + these things, but just now she requires rest. You may have heard some + rumor that she is going abroad for a time? The fact is she hasn't the + least intention of doing so, nor do we consider there is the slightest + reason for her going.” He paused as if to give great emphasis to a + statement that seemed otherwise unimportant. “But here's Clementina + coming, and I must get you to excuse ME. I've to meet the trustees of the + church in ten minutes, but I hope she'll persuade you to stay, and I'll + see you later at the hall.” + </p> + <p> + As Clementina entered the room her father vanished and, I fear, as + completely dropped out of Mr. Grant's mind. For the daughter's improvement + was greater than her father's, yet so much more refined as to be at first + only delicately perceptible. Grant had been prepared for the vulgar + enhancement of fine clothes and personal adornment, for the specious + setting of luxurious circumstances and surroundings, for the aplomb that + came from flattery and conscious power. But he found none of these; her + calm individuality was intensified rather than subdued; she was dressed + simply, with an economy of ornament, rich material, and jewelry, but an + accuracy of taste that was always dominant. Her plain gray merino dress, + beautifully fitting her figure, suggested, with its pale blue facings, + some uniform, as of the charitable society she patronized. She came + towards him with a graceful movement of greeting, yet her face showed no + consciousness of the interval that had elapsed since they met; he almost + fancied himself transported back to the sitting-room at Sidon with the + monotonous patter of the leaves outside, and the cool moist breath of the + bay and alder coming in at the window. + </p> + <p> + “Father says that you are only passing through Tasajara to-day, as you did + through Sidon five years ago,” she said with a smiling earnestness that he + fancied however was the one new phase of her character. “But I won't + believe it! At least we will not accept another visit quite as accidental + as that, even though you brought us twice the good fortune you did then. + You see, we have not forgotten it if you have, Mr. Grant. And unless you + want us to believe that your fairy gifts will turn some day to leaves and + ashes, you will promise to stay with us tonight, and let me show you some + of the good we have done with them. Perhaps you don't know, or don't want + to know, that it was I who got up this 'Library and Home Circle of the + Sisters of Tasajara' which we are to open to-day. And can you imagine why? + You remember—or have you forgotten—that you once affected to + be concerned at the social condition of the young ladies on the plains of + Sidon? Well, Mr. Grant, this is gotten up in order that the future Mr. + Grants who wander may find future Miss Billingses who are worthy to + converse with them and entertain them, and who no longer wear men's hats + and live on the public road.” + </p> + <p> + It was such a long speech for one so taciturn as he remembered Clementina + to have been; so unexpected in tone considering her father's attitude + towards him, and so unlooked for in its reference to a slight incident of + the past, that Grant's critical contemplation of her gave way to a quiet + and grateful glance of admiration. How could he have been so mistaken in + her character? He had always preferred the outspoken Euphemia, and yet why + should he not have been equally mistaken in her? Without having any + personal knowledge of Rice's matrimonial troubles—for their intimate + companionship had not continued after the survey—he had been + inclined to blame him; now he seemed to find excuses for him. He wondered + if she really had liked him as Peters had hinted; he wondered if she knew + that he, Grant, was no longer intimate with him and knew nothing of her + affairs. All this while he was accepting her proffered hospitality and + sending to the hotel for his luggage. Then he drifted into a conversation, + which he had expected would be brief, pointless, and confined to a stupid + resume of their mutual and social progress since they had left Sidon. But + here he was again mistaken; she was talking familiarly of present social + topics, of things that she knew clearly and well, without effort or + attitude. She had been to New York and Boston for two winters; she had + spent the previous summer at Newport; it might have been her whole youth + for the fluency, accuracy, and familiarity of her detail, and the absence + of provincial enthusiasm. She was going abroad, probably in the spring. + She had thought of going to winter in Italy, but she would wait now until + her sister was ready to go with her. Mr. Grant of course knew that + Euphemia was separated from Mr. Rice—no—not until her father + told him? Well—the marriage had been a wild and foolish thing for + both. But Euphemia was back again with them in the San Francisco house; + she had talked of coming to Tasajara to-day, perhaps she might be there + tonight. And, good heavens! it was actually three o'clock already, and + they must start at once for the Hall. She would go and get her hat and + return instantly. + </p> + <p> + It was true; he had been talking with her an hour—pleasantly, + intelligently, and yet with a consciousness of an indefinite satisfaction + beyond all this. It must have been surprise at her transformation, or his + previous misconception of her character. He had been watching her features + and wondering why he had ever thought them expressionless. There was also + the pleasant suggestion—common to humanity in such instances—that + he himself was in some way responsible for the change; that it was some + awakened sympathy to his own nature that had breathed into this cold and + faultless statue the warmth of life. In an odd flash of recollection he + remembered how, five years ago, when Rice had suggested to her that she + was “hard to please,” she had replied that she “didn't know, but that she + was waiting to see.” It did not occur to him to wonder why she had not + awakened then, or if this awakening had anything to do with her own + volition. It was not probable that they would meet again after to-day, or + if they did, that she would not relapse into her former self and fail to + impress him as she had now. But—here she was—a paragon of + feminine promptitude—already standing in the doorway, accurately + gloved and booted, and wearing a demure gray hat that modestly crowned her + decorously elegant figure. + </p> + <p> + They crossed the plaza side by side, in the still garish sunlight that + seemed to mock the scant shade of the youthful eucalyptus trees, and + presently fell in with the stream of people going in their direction. The + former daughters of Sidon, the Billingses, the Peterses, and Wingates, + were there bourgeoning and expanding in the glare of their new prosperity, + with silk and gold; there were newer faces still, and pretty ones,—for + Tasajara as a “Cow County” had attracted settlers with large families,—and + there were already the contrasting types of East and West. Many turned to + look after the tall figure of the daughter of the Founder of Tasajara,—a + spectacle lately rare to the town; a few glanced at her companion, equally + noticeable as a stranger. Thanks, however, to some judicious preliminary + advertising from the hotel clerk, Peters, and Daniel Harcourt himself, by + the time Grant and Miss Harcourt had reached the Hall his name and fame + were already known, and speculation had already begun whether this new + stroke of Harcourt's shrewdness might not unite Clementina to a renowned + and profitable partner. + </p> + <p> + The Hall was in one of the further and newly opened suburbs, and its side + and rear windows gave immediately upon the outlying and illimitable plain + of Tasajara. It was a tasteful and fair-seeming structure of wood, + surprisingly and surpassingly new. In fact that was its one dominant + feature; nowhere else had youth and freshness ever shown itself as + unconquerable and all-conquering. The spice of virgin woods and trackless + forests still rose from its pine floors, and breathed from its outer shell + of cedar that still oozed its sap, and redwood that still dropped its + life-blood. Nowhere else were the plastered walls and ceilings as white + and dazzling in their unstained purity, or as redolent of the outlying + quarry in their clear cool breath of lime and stone. Even the turpentine + of fresh and spotless paint added to this sense of wholesome germination, + and as the clear and brilliant Californian sunshine swept through the open + windows west and east, suffusing the whole palpitating structure with its + searching and resistless radiance, the very air seemed filled with the + aroma of creation. + </p> + <p> + The fresh colors of the young Republic, the bright blazonry of the newest + State, the coat-of-arms of the infant County of Tasajara—(a vignette + of sunset-tules cloven by the steam of an advancing train)—hanging + from the walls, were all a part of this invincible juvenescence. Even the + newest silks, ribbons and prints of the latest holiday fashions made their + first virgin appearance in the new building as if to consecrate it, until + it was stirred by the rustle of youth, as with the sound and movement of + budding spring. + </p> + <p> + A strain from the new organ—whose heart, however, had prematurely + learned its own bitterness—and a thin, clear, but somewhat shrill + chanting from a choir of young ladies were followed by a prayer from the + Reverend Mr. Pilsbury. Then there was a pause of expectancy, and Grant's + fair companion, who up to that moment had been quietly acting as guide and + cicerone to her father's guest, excused herself with a little grimace of + mock concern and was led away by one of the committee. Grant's usually + keen eyes were wandering somewhat abstractedly over the agitated and + rustling field of ribbons, flowers and feathers before him, past the + blazonry of banner on the walls, and through the open windows to the long + sunlit levels beyond, when he noticed a stir upon the raised dais or + platform at the end of the room, where the notables of Tasajara were + formally assembled. The mass of black coats suddenly parted and drew back + against the wall to allow the coming forward of a single graceful figure. + A thrill of nervousness as unexpected as unaccountable passed over him as + he recognized Clementina. In the midst of a sudden silence she read the + report of the committee from a paper in her hand, in a clear, untroubled + voice—the old voice of Sidon—and formally declared the + building opened. The sunlight, nearly level, streamed through the western + window across the front of the platform where she stood and transfigured + her slight but noble figure. The hush that had fallen upon the Hall was as + much the effect of that tranquil, ideal presence as of the message with + which it was charged. And yet that apparition was as inconsistent with the + clear, searching light which helped to set it off, as it was with the + broad new blazonry of decoration, the yet unsullied record of the white + walls, or even the frank, animated and pretty faces that looked upon it. + Perhaps it was some such instinct that caused the applause which + hesitatingly and tardily followed her from the platform to appear polite + and half restrained rather than spontaneous. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless Grant was honestly and sincerely profuse in his + congratulations. “You were far cooler and far more self-contained than I + should have been in your place,” he said, “than in fact I actually WAS, + only as your auditor. But I suppose you have done it before?” + </p> + <p> + She turned her beautiful eyes on his wonderingly. “No,—this is the + first time I ever appeared in public,—not even at school, for even + there I was always a private pupil.” + </p> + <p> + “You astonish me,” said Grant; “you seemed like an old hand at it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I did, or rather as if I didn't think anything of it myself,—and + that no doubt is why the audience didn't think anything of it either.” + </p> + <p> + So she HAD noticed her cold reception, and yet there was not the slightest + trace of disappointment, regret, or wounded vanity in her tone or manner. + “You must take me to the refreshment room now,” she said pleasantly, “and + help me to look after the young ladies who are my guests. I'm afraid there + are still more speeches to come, and father and Mr. Pilsbury are looking + as if they confidently expected something more would be 'expected' of + them.” + </p> + <p> + Grant at once threw himself into the task assigned to him, with his + natural gallantry and a certain captivating playfulness which he still + retained. Perhaps he was the more anxious to please in order that his + companion might share some of his popularity, for it was undeniable that + Miss Harcourt still seemed to excite only a constrained politeness among + those with whom she courteously mingled. And this was still more + distinctly marked by the contrast of a later incident. + </p> + <p> + For some moments the sound of laughter and greeting had risen near the + door of the refreshment room that opened upon the central hall, and there + was a perceptible movement of the crowd—particularly of youthful + male Tasajara—in that direction. It was evident that it announced + the unexpected arrival of some popular resident. Attracted like the + others, Grant turned and saw the company making way for the smiling, easy, + half-saucy, half-complacent entry of a handsomely dressed young girl. As + she turned from time to time to recognize with rallying familiarity or + charming impertinence some of her admirers, there was that in her tone and + gesture which instantly recalled to him the past. It was unmistakably + Euphemia! His eyes instinctively sought Clementina's. She was gazing at + him with such a grave, penetrating look,—half doubting, half + wistful,—a look so unlike her usual unruffled calm that he felt + strangely stirred. But the next moment, when she rejoined him, the look + had entirely gone. “You have not seen my sister since you were at Sidon, I + believe?” she said quietly. “She would be sorry to miss you.” But Euphemia + and her train were already passing them on the opposite side of the long + table. She had evidently recognized Grant, yet the two sisters were + looking intently into each other's eyes when he raised his own. Then + Euphemia met his bow with a momentary accession of color, a coquettish + wave of her hand across the table, a slight exaggeration of her usual + fascinating recklessness, and smilingly moved away. He turned to + Clementina, but here an ominous tapping at the farther end of the long + table revealed the fact that Mr. Harcourt was standing on a chair with + oratorical possibilities in his face and attitude. There was another + forward movement in the crowd and—silence. In that solid, + black-broadclothed, respectable figure, that massive watchchain, that + white waistcoat, that diamond pin glistening in the satin cravat, Euphemia + might have seen the realization of her prophetic vision at Sidon five + years before. + </p> + <p> + He spoke for ten minutes with a fluency and comprehensive business-like + directness that surprised Grant. He was not there, he said, to glorify + what had been done by himself, his family, or his friends in Tasajara. + Others who were to follow him might do that, or at least might be better + able to explain and expatiate upon the advantages of the institution they + had just opened, and its social, moral, and religious effect upon the + community. He was there as a business man to demonstrate to them—as + he had always done and always hoped to do—the money value of + improvement; the profit—if they might choose to call it—of + well-regulated and properly calculated speculation. The plot of land upon + which they stood, of which the building occupied only one eighth, was + bought two years before for ten thousand dollars. When the plans of the + building were completed a month afterwards, the value of the remaining + seven eighths had risen enough to defray the cost of the entire + construction. He was in a position to tell them that only that morning the + adjacent property, subdivided and laid out in streets and building-plots, + had been admitted into the corporate limits of the city; and that on the + next anniversary of the building they would approach it through an avenue + of finished dwellings! An outburst of applause followed the speaker's + practical climax; the fresh young faces of his auditors glowed with + invincible enthusiasm; the afternoon trade-winds, freshening over the + limitless plain beyond, tossed the bright banners at the windows as with + sympathetic rejoicing, and a few odorous pine shavings, overlooked in a + corner in the hurry of preparation, touched by an eddying zephyr, crept + out and rolled in yellow ringlets across the floor. + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Doctor Pilsbury arose in a more decorous silence. He had + listened approvingly, admiringly, he might say even reverently, to the + preceding speaker. But although his distinguished friend had, with his + usual modesty, made light of his own services and those of his charming + family, he, the speaker, had not risen to sing his praises. No; it was not + in this Hall, projected by his foresight and raised by his liberality; in + this town, called into existence by his energy and stamped by his + attributes; in this county, developed by his genius and sustained by his + capital; ay, in this very State whose grandeur was made possible by such + giants as he,—it was not in any of these places that it was + necessary to praise Daniel Harcourt, or that a panegyric of him would be + more than idle repetition. Nor would he, as that distinguished man had + suggested, enlarge upon the social, moral, and religious benefits of the + improvement they were now celebrating. It was written on the happy, + innocent faces, in the festive garb, in the decorous demeanor, in the + intelligent eyes that sparkled around him, in the presence of those of his + parishioners whom he could meet as freely here to-day as in his own church + on Sunday. What then could he say? What then was there to say? Perhaps he + should say nothing if it were not for the presence of the young before + him.—He stopped and fixed his eyes paternally on the youthful Johnny + Billings, who with a half dozen other Sunday-school scholars had been + marshaled before the reverend speaker.—And what was to be the lesson + THEY were to learn from it? They had heard what had been achieved by + labor, enterprise, and diligence. Perhaps they would believe, and + naturally too, that what labor, enterprise, and diligence had done could + be done again. But was that all? Was there nothing behind these qualities—which, + after all, were within the reach of every one here? Had they ever thought + that back of every pioneer, every explorer, every pathfinder, every + founder and creator, there was still another? There was no terra incognita + so rare as to be unknown to one; no wilderness so remote as to be beyond a + greater ken than theirs; no waste so trackless but that one had already + passed that way! Did they ever reflect that when the dull sea ebbed and + flowed in the tules over the very spot where they were now standing, who + it was that also foresaw, conceived, and ordained the mighty change that + would take place; who even guided and directed the feeble means employed + to work it; whose spirit moved, as in still older days of which they had + read, over the face of the stagnant waters? Perhaps they had. Who then was + the real pioneer of Tasajara,—back of the Harcourts, the Peterses, + the Billingses, and Wingates? The reverend gentleman gently paused for a + reply. It was given in the clear but startled accents of the half + frightened, half-fascinated Johnny Billings, in three words:— + </p> + <p> + “'Lige Curtis, sir!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER VI + </h2> + <p> + The trade wind, that, blowing directly from the Golden Gate, seemed to + concentrate its full force upon the western slope of Russian Hill, might + have dismayed any climber less hopeful and sanguine than that most + imaginative of newspaper reporters and most youthful of husbands, John + Milton Harcourt. But for all that it was an honest wind, and its dry, + practical energy and salt-pervading breath only seemed to sting him to + greater and more enthusiastic exertions, until, quite at the summit of the + hill and last of a straggling line of little cottages half submerged in + drifting sand, he stood upon his own humble porch. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking, coming up the hill, Loo,” he said, bursting into the + sitting-room, pantingly, “of writing something about the future of the + hill! How it will look fifty years from now, all terraced with houses and + gardens!—and right up here a kind of Acropolis, don't you know. I + had quite a picture of it in my mind just now.” + </p> + <p> + A plainly-dressed young woman with a pretty face, that, however, looked as + if it had been prematurely sapped of color and vitality, here laid aside + some white sewing she had in her lap, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “But you did that once before, Milty, and you know the 'Herald' wouldn't + take it because they said it was a free notice of Mr. Boorem's building + lots, and he didn't advertise in the 'Herald.' I always told you that you + ought to have seen Boorem first.” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow blinked his eyes with a momentary arrest of that buoyant + hopefulness which was their peculiar characteristic, but nevertheless + replied with undaunted cheerfulness, “I forgot. Anyhow, it's all the same, + for I worked it into that 'Sunday Walk.' And it's just as easy to write it + the other way, you see,—looking back, DOWN THE HILL, you know. + Something about the old Padres toiling through the sand just before the + Angelus; or as far back as Sir Francis Drake's time, and have a runaway + boat's crew, coming ashore to look for gold that the Mexicans had talked + of. Lord! that's easy enough! I tell you what, Loo, it's worth living up + here just for the inspiration.” Even while boyishly exhaling this + enthusiasm he was also divesting himself of certain bundles whose contents + seemed to imply that he had brought his dinner with him,—the + youthful Mrs. Harcourt setting the table in a perfunctory, listless way + that contrasted oddly with her husband's cheerful energy. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't heard of any regular situation yet?” she asked abstractedly. + </p> + <p> + “No,—not exactly,” he replied. “But [buoyantly] it's a great deal + better for me not to take anything in a hurry and tie myself to any + particular line. Now, I'm quite free.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you haven't seen that Mr. Fletcher again?” she continued. + </p> + <p> + “No. He only wanted to know something about me. That's the way with them + all, Loo. Whenever I apply for work anywhere it's always: 'So you're Dan'l + Harcourt's son, eh? Quarreled with the old man? Bad job; better make it + up! You'll make more stickin' to him. He's worth millions!' Everybody + seems to think everything of HIM, as if I had no individuality beyond + that, I've a good mind to change my name.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray what would mine be then?” + </p> + <p> + There was so much irritation in her voice that he drew nearer her and + gently put his arm around her waist. “Why, whatever mine was, darling,” he + said with a tender smile. “You didn't fall in love with any particular + name, did you, Loo?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I married a particular one,” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + His eyelids quivered again, as if he was avoiding some unpleasantly + staring suggestion, and she stopped. + </p> + <p> + “You know what I mean, dear,” she said, with a quick little laugh. “Just + because your father's an old crosspatch, YOU haven't lost your rights to + his name and property. And those people who say you ought to make it up + perhaps know what's for the best.” + </p> + <p> + “But you remember what he said of you, Loo?” said the young man with a + flashing eye. “Do you think I can ever forget that?” + </p> + <p> + “But you DO forget it, dear; you forget it when you go in town among fresh + faces and people; when you are looking for work. You forget it when you're + at work writing your copy,—for I've seen you smile as you wrote. You + forget it climbing up the dreadful sand, for you were thinking just now of + what happened years ago, or is to happen years to come. And I want to + forget it too, Milty. I don't want to sit here all day, thinking of it, + with the wind driving the sand against the window, and nothing to look at + but those white tombs in Lone Mountain Cemetery, and those white caps that + might be gravestones too, and not a soul to talk to or even see pass by + until I feel as if I were dead and buried also. If you were me—you—you—you—couldn't + help crying too!” + </p> + <p> + Indeed he was very near it now. For as he caught her in his arms, suddenly + seeing with a lover's sympathy and the poet's swifter imagination all that + she had seen and even more, he was aghast at the vision conjured. In her + delicate health and loneliness how dreadful must have been these + monotonous days, and this glittering, cruel sea! What a selfish brute he + was! Yet as he stood there holding her, silently and rhythmically marking + his tenderness and remorseful feelings by rocking her from side to side + like a languid metronome, she quietly disengaged her wet lashes from his + shoulder and said in quite another tone:— + </p> + <p> + “So they were all at Tasajara last week?” + </p> + <p> + “Who, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Your father and sisters.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said John Milton, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “And they've taken back your sister after her divorce?” + </p> + <p> + The staring obtrusiveness of this fact apparently made her husband's + bright sympathetic eye blink as before. + </p> + <p> + “And if you were to divorce me, YOU would be taken back too,” she added + quickly, suddenly withdrawing herself with a pettish movement and walking + to the window. + </p> + <p> + But he followed. “Don't talk in that way, Loo! Don't look in that way, + dear!” he said, taking her hand gently, yet not without a sense of some + inconsistency in her conduct that jarred upon his own simple directness. + “You know that nothing can part us now. I was wrong to let my little girl + worry herself all alone here, but I—I—thought it was all so—so + bright and free out on this hill,—looking far away beyond the Golden + Gate,—as far as Cathay, you know, and such a change from those + dismal flats of Tasajara and that awful stretch of tules. But it's all + right now. And now that I know how you feel, we'll go elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply. Perhaps she found it difficult to keep up her injured + attitude in the face of her husband's gentleness. Perhaps her attention + had been attracted by the unusual spectacle of a stranger, who had just + mounted the hill and was now slowly passing along the line of cottages + with a hesitating air of inquiry. “He may be looking for this house,—for + you,” she said in an entirely new tone of interest. “Run out and see. It + may be some one who wants”— + </p> + <p> + “An article,” said Milton cheerfully. “By Jove! he IS coming here.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger was indeed approaching the little cottage, and with + apparently some confidence. He was a well-dressed, well-made man, whose + age looked uncertain from the contrast between his heavy brown moustache + and his hair, that, curling under the brim of his hat, was almost white in + color. The young man started, and said, hurriedly: “I really believe it is + Fletcher,—they say his hair turned white from the Panama fever.” + </p> + <p> + It was indeed Mr. Fletcher who entered and introduced himself,—a + gentle reserved man, with something of that colorlessness of premature age + in his speech which was observable in his hair. He had heard of Mr. + Harcourt from a friend who had recommended him highly. As Mr. Harcourt had + probably been told, he, the speaker, was about to embark some capital in a + first-class newspaper in San Francisco, and should select the staff + himself. He wanted to secure only first-rate talent,—but above all, + youthfulness, directness, and originality. The “Clarion,” for that was to + be its name, was to have nothing “old fogy” about it. No. It was + distinctly to be the organ of Young California! This and much more from + the grave lips of the elderly young man, whose speech seemed to be divided + between the pretty, but equally faded, young wife, and the one + personification of invincible youth present,—her husband. + </p> + <p> + “But I fear I have interrupted your household duties,” he said pleasantly. + “You were preparing dinner. Pray go on. And let me help you,—I'm not + a bad cook,—and you can give me my reward by letting me share it + with you, for the climb up here has sharpened my appetite. We can talk as + we go on.” + </p> + <p> + It was in vain to protest; there was something paternal as well as + practical in the camaraderie of this actual capitalist and possible + Maecenas and patron as he quietly hung up his hat and overcoat, and helped + to set the table with a practiced hand. Nor, as he suggested, did the + conversation falter, and before they had taken their seats at the frugal + board he had already engaged John Milton Harcourt as assistant editor of + the “Clarion” at a salary that seemed princely to this son of a + millionaire! The young wife meantime had taken active part in the + discussion; whether it was vaguely understood that the possession of + poetical and imaginative faculties precluded any capacity for business, or + whether it was owing to the apparent superior maturity of Mrs. Harcourt + and the stranger, it was certain that THEY arranged the practical details + of the engagement, and that the youthful husband sat silent, merely + offering his always hopeful and sanguine consent. + </p> + <p> + “You'll take a house nearer to town, I suppose?” continued Mr. Fletcher to + the lady, “though you've a charming view here. I suppose it was quite a + change from Tasajara and your father-in-law's house? I daresay he had as + fine a place there—on his own homestead—as he has here?” + </p> + <p> + Young Harcourt dropped his sensitive eyelids again. It seemed hard that he + could never get away from these allusions to his father! Perhaps it was + only to that relationship that he was indebted for his visitor's kindness. + In his simple honesty he could not bear the thought of such a + misapprehension. “Perhaps, Mr. Fletcher, you do not know,” he said, “that + my father is not on terms with me, and that we neither expect anything nor + could we ever take anything from him. Could we, Loo?” He added the useless + question partly because he saw that his wife's face betrayed little + sympathy with him, and partly that Fletcher was looking at her curiously, + as if for confirmation. But this was another of John Milton's trials as an + imaginative reporter; nobody ever seemed to care for his practical + opinions or facts! + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Fletcher is not interested in our little family differences, Milty,” + she said, looking at Mr. Fletcher, however, instead of him. “You're Daniel + Harcourt's SON whatever happens.” + </p> + <p> + The cloud that had passed over the young man's face and eyes did not, + however, escape Mr. Fletcher's attention, for he smiled, and added gayly, + “And I hope my valued lieutenant in any case.” Nevertheless John Milton + was quite ready to avail himself of an inspiration to fetch some cigars + for his guest from the bar of the Sea-View House on the slope of the hill + beyond, and thereby avoid a fateful subject. Once in the fresh air again + he promptly recovered his boyish spirits. The light flying scud had + already effaced the first rising stars; the lower creeping sea-fog had + already blotted out the western shore and sea; but below him to the east + the glittering lights of the city seemed to start up with a new, + mysterious, and dazzling brilliancy. It was the valley of diamonds that + Sindbad saw lying almost at his feet! Perhaps somewhere there the light of + his own fame and fortune was already beginning to twinkle! + </p> + <p> + He returned to his humble roof joyous and inspired. As he entered the hall + he heard his wife's voice and his own name mentioned, followed by that + awkward, meaningless silence on his entrance which so plainly indicated + either that he had been the subject of conversation or that it was not for + his ears. It was a dismal reminder of his boyhood at Sidon and Tasajara. + But he was too full of hope and ambition to heed it to-night, and later, + when Mr. Fletcher had taken his departure, his pent-up enthusiasm burst + out before his youthful partner. Had she realized that their struggles + were over now, that their future was secure? They need no longer fear ever + being forced to take bounty from the family; they were independent of them + all! He would make a name for himself that should be distinct from his + father's as he should make a fortune that would be theirs alone. The young + wife smiled. “But all that need not prevent you, dear, from claiming your + RIGHTS when the time comes.” + </p> + <p> + “But if I scorn to make the claim or take a penny of his, Loo?” + </p> + <p> + “You say you scorn to take the money you think your father got by a mere + trick,—at the best,—and didn't earn. And now you will be able + to show you can live without it, and earn your own fortune. Well, dear, + for that very reason why should you let your father and others enjoy and + waste what is fairly your share? For it is YOUR share whether it came to + your father fairly or not; and if not, it is still your duty, believing as + you do, to claim it from him, that at least YOU may do with it what you + choose. You might want to restore it—to—to—somebody.” + </p> + <p> + The young man laughed. “But, my dear Loo! suppose that I were weak enough + to claim it, do you think my father would give it up? He has the right, + and no law could force him to yield to me more than he chooses.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the law, but YOU could.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you,” he said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “You could force him by simply telling him what you once told me.” + </p> + <p> + John Milton drew back, and his hand dropped loosely from his wife's. The + color left his fresh young face; the light quivered for a moment and then + became fixed and set in his eyes. For that moment he looked ten years her + senior. “I was wrong ever to tell even you that, Loo,” he said in a low + voice. “You are wrong to ever remind me of it. Forget it from this moment, + as you value our love and want it to live and be remembered. And forget, + Loo, as I do,—and ever shall,—that you ever suggested to me to + use my secret in the way you did just now.” + </p> + <p> + But here Mrs. Harcourt burst into tears, more touched by the alteration in + her husband's manner, I fear, than by any contrition for wrongdoing. Of + course if he wished to withdraw his confidences from her, just as he had + almost confessed he wished to withdraw his NAME, she couldn't help it, but + it was hard that when she sat there all day long trying to think what was + best for them, she should be blamed! At which the quiet and forgiving John + Milton smiled remorsefully and tried to comfort her. Nevertheless an + occasional odd, indefinable chill seemed to creep across the feverish + enthusiasm with which he was celebrating this day of fortune. And yet he + neither knew nor suspected until long after that his foolish wife had that + night half betrayed his secret to the stranger! + </p> + <p> + The next day he presented a note of introduction from Mr. Fletcher to the + business manager of the “Clarion,” and the following morning was duly + installed in office. He did not see his benefactor again; that single + visit was left in the mystery and isolation of an angelic episode. It + later appeared that other and larger interests in the San Jose valley + claimed his patron's residence and attendance; only the capital and + general purpose of the paper—to develop into a party organ in the + interest of his possible senatorial aspirations in due season—was + furnished by him. Grateful as John Milton felt towards him, he was + relieved; it seemed probable that Mr. Fletcher HAD selected him on his + individual merits, and not as the son of a millionaire. + </p> + <p> + He threw himself into his work with his old hopeful enthusiasm, and + perhaps an originality of method that was part of his singular + independence. Without the student's training or restraint,—for his + two years' schooling at Tasajara during his parents' prosperity came too + late to act as a discipline,—he was unfettered by any rules, and + guided only by an unerring instinctive taste that became near being + genius. He was a brilliant and original, if not always a profound and + accurate, reporter. By degrees he became an accustomed interest to the + readers of the “Clarion;” then an influence. Actors themselves in many a + fierce drama, living lives of devotion, emotion, and picturesque incident, + they had satisfied themselves with only the briefest and most practical + daily record of their adventure, and even at first were dazed and startled + to find that many of them had been heroes and some poets. The stealthy + boyish reader of romantic chronicle at Sidon had learned by heart the + chivalrous story of the emigration. The second column of the “Clarion” + became famous even while the figure of its youthful writer, unknown and + unrecognized, was still nightly climbing the sands of Russian Hill, and + even looking down as before on the lights of the growing city, without a + thought that he had added to that glittering constellation. + </p> + <p> + Cheerful and contented with the exercise of work, he would have been happy + but for the gradual haunting of another dread which presently began to + drag him at earlier hours up the steep path to his little home; to halt + him before the door with the quickened breath of an anxiety he would + scarcely confess to himself, and sometimes hold him aimlessly a whole day + beneath his roof. For the pretty but delicate Mrs. Harcourt, like others + of her class, had added a weak and ineffective maternity to their other + conjugal trials, and one early dawn a baby was born that lingered with + them scarcely longer than the morning mist and exhaled with the rising + sun. The young wife regained her strength slowly,—so slowly that the + youthful husband brought his work at times to the house to keep her + company. And a singular change had come over her. She no longer talked of + the past, nor of his family. As if the little life that had passed with + that morning mist had represented some ascending expiatory sacrifice, it + seemed to have brought them into closer communion. + </p> + <p> + Yet her weak condition made him conceal another trouble that had come upon + him. It was in the third month of his employment on the “Clarion” that one + afternoon, while correcting some proofs on his chief's desk, he came upon + the following editorial paragraph:— + </p> + <p> + “The played-out cant of 'pioneer genius' and 'pioneer discovery' appears + to have reached its climax in the attempt of some of our contemporaries to + apply it to Dan Harcourt's new Tasajara Job before the legislature. It is + perfectly well known in Harcourt's own district that, far from being a + pioneer and settler HIMSELF he simply succeeded after a fashion to the + genuine work of one Elijah Curtis, an actual pioneer and discoverer, years + before, while Harcourt, we believe, was keeping a frontier doggery in + Sidon, and dispensing 'tanglefoot' and salt junk to the hayfooted Pike + Countians of his precinct. This would make him as much of the 'pioneer + discoverer' as the rattlesnake who first takes up board and lodgings and + then possession in a prairie dog's burrow. And if the traveler's tale is + true that the rattlesnake sometimes makes a meal of his landlord, the + story told at Sidon may be equally credible that the original pioneer + mysteriously disappeared about the time that Dan Harcourt came into the + property. From which it would seem that Harcourt is not in a position for + his friends to invite very deep scrutiny into his 'pioneer' achievements.” + </p> + <p> + Stupefaction, a vague terror, and rising anger, rapidly succeeded each + other in the young man's mind as he stood mechanically holding the paper + in his hand. It was the writing of his chief editor, whose easy brutality + he had sometimes even boyishly admired. Without stopping to consider their + relative positions he sought him indignantly and laid the proof before + him. The editor laughed. “But what's that to YOU? YOU'RE not on terms with + the old man.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is my father!” said John Milton hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” said the editor good-naturedly, “I'd like to oblige you, but + it isn't BUSINESS, you know,—and this IS, you understand,—PROPRIETOR'S + BUSINESS too! Of course I see it might stand in the way of your making up + to the old man afterwards and coming in for a million. Well! you can tell + him it's ME. Say I WOULD put it in. Say I'm nasty—and I AM!” + </p> + <p> + “Then it must go in?” said John Milton with a white face. + </p> + <p> + “You bet.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I must go out!” And writing out his resignation, he laid it before + his chief and left. + </p> + <p> + But he could not bear to tell this to his wife when he climbed the hill + that night, and he invented some excuse for bringing his work home. The + invalid never noticed any change in his usual buoyancy, and indeed I fear, + when he was fairly installed with his writing materials at the foot of her + bed, he had quite forgotten the episode. He was recalled to it by a faint + sigh. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, dear?” he said looking up. + </p> + <p> + “I like to see you writing, Milty. You always look so happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Always so happy, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You are happy, are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Always.” He got up and kissed her. Nevertheless, when he sat down to his + work again, his face was turned a little more to the window. + </p> + <p> + Another serious incident—to be also kept from the invalid—shortly + followed. The article in the “Clarion” had borne its fruit. The third day + after his resignation a rival paper sharply retorted. “The cowardly + insinuations against the record of a justly honored capitalist,” said the + “Pioneer,” “although quite in keeping with the brazen 'Clarion,' might + attract the attentions of the slandered party, if it were not known to his + friends as well as himself that it may be traced almost directly to a + cast-off member of his own family, who, it seems, is reduced to haunting + the back doors of certain blatant journals to dispose of his cheap wares. + The slanderer is secure from public exposure in the superior decency of + his relations, who refrain from airing their family linen upon editorial + lines.” + </p> + <p> + This was the journal to which John Milton had hopefully turned for work. + When he read it there seemed but one thing for him to do—and he did + it. Gentle and optimistic as was his nature, he had been brought up in a + community where sincere directness of personal offense was followed by + equally sincere directness of personal redress, and—he challenged + the editor. The bearer of his cartel was one Jack Hamlin, I grieve to say + a gambler by profession, but between whom and John Milton had sprung up an + odd friendship of which the best that can be said is that it was to each + equally and unselfishly unprofitable. The challenge was accepted, the + preliminaries arranged. “I suppose,” said Jack carelessly, “as the old man + ought to do something for your wife in case of accident, you've made some + sort of a will?” + </p> + <p> + “I've thought of that,” said John Milton, dubiously, “but I'm afraid it's + no use. You see”—he hesitated—“I'm not of age.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask how old you are, sonny?” said Jack with great gravity. + </p> + <p> + “I'm almost twenty,” said John Milton, coloring. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't exactly vingt-et-un, but I'd stand on it; if I were you I + wouldn't draw to such a hand,” said Jack, coolly. + </p> + <p> + The young husband had arranged to be absent from his home that night, and + early morning found him, with Jack, grave, but courageous, in a little + hollow behind the Mission Hills. To them presently approached his + antagonist, jauntily accompanied by Colonel Starbottle, his second. They + halted, but after the formal salutation were instantly joined by Jack + Hamlin. For a few moments John Milton remained awkwardly alone—pending + a conversation which even at that supreme moment he felt as being like the + general attitude of his friends towards him, in its complete ignoring of + himself. The next moment the three men stepped towards him. “We have come, + sir,” said Colonel Starbottle in his precisest speech but his jauntiest + manner, “to offer you a full and ample apology—a personal apology—which + only supplements that full public apology that my principal, sir, this + gentleman,” indicating the editor of the “Pioneer,” “has this morning made + in the columns of his paper, as you will observe,” producing a newspaper. + “We have, sir,” continued the colonel loftily, “only within the last + twelve hours become aware of the—er—REAL circumstances of the + case. We would regret that the affair had gone so far already, if it had + not given us, sir, the opportunity of testifying to your gallantry. We do + so gladly; and if—er—er—a FEW YEARS LATER, Mr. Harcourt, + you should ever need—a friend in any matter of this kind, I am, sir, + at your service.” John Milton gazed half inquiringly, half uneasily at + Jack. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, Milt,” he said sotto voce. “Shake hands all round and + let's go to breakfast. And I rather think that editor wants to employ you + HIMSELF.” + </p> + <p> + It was true, for when that night he climbed eagerly the steep homeward + hill he carried with him the written offer of an engagement on the + “Pioneer.” As he entered the door his wife's nurse and companion met him + with a serious face. There had been a strange and unexpected change in the + patient's condition, and the doctor had already been there twice. As he + put aside his coat and hat and entered her room, it seemed to him that he + had forever put aside all else of essay and ambition beyond those four + walls. And with the thought a great peace came upon him. It seemed good to + him to live for her alone. + </p> + <p> + It was not for long. As each monotonous day brought the morning mist and + evening fog regularly to the little hilltop where his whole being was now + centred, she seemed to grow daily weaker, and the little circle of her + life narrowed day by day. One morning when the usual mist appeared to have + been withheld and the sun had risen with a strange and cruel brightness; + when the waves danced and sparkled on the bay below and light glanced from + dazzling sails, and even the white tombs on Lone Mountain glittered + keenly; when cheery voices hailing each other on the hillside came to him + clearly but without sense or meaning; when earth, sky, and sea seemed + quivering with life and motion,—he opened the door of that one + little house on which the only shadow seemed to have fallen, and went + forth again into the world alone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER VII. + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Daniel Harcourt's town mansion was also on an eminence, but it was + that gentler acclivity of fashion known as Rincon Hill, and sunned itself + on a southern slope of luxury. It had been described as “princely” and + “fairy-like,” by a grateful reporter; tourists and travelers had sung its + praises in letters to their friends and in private reminiscences, for it + had dispensed hospitality to most of the celebrities who had visited the + coast. Nevertheless its charm was mainly due to the ruling taste of Miss + Clementina Harcourt, who had astonished her father by her marvelous + intuition of the nice requirements and elegant responsibilities of their + position; and had thrown her mother into the pained perplexity of a + matronly hen, who, among the ducks' eggs intrusted to her fostering care, + had unwittingly hatched a graceful but discomposing cygnet. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, after holding out feebly against the siege of wealth at Tasajara + and San Francisco, Mrs. Harcourt had abandoned herself hopelessly to the + horrors of its invasion; had allowed herself to be dragged from her + kitchen by her exultant daughters and set up in black silk in a certain + conventional respectability in the drawing-room. Strange to say, her + commiserating hospitality, or hospital-like ministration, not only gave + her popularity, but a certain kind of distinction. An exaltation so + sorrowfully deprecated by its possessor was felt to be a sign of + superiority. She was spoken of as “motherly,” even by those who vaguely + knew that there was somewhere a discarded son struggling in poverty with a + helpless wife, and that she had sided with her husband in disinheriting a + daughter who had married unwisely. She was sentimentally spoken of as a + “true wife,” while never opposing a single meanness of her husband, + suggesting a single active virtue, nor questioning her right to sacrifice + herself and her family for his sake. With nothing she cared to affect, she + was quite free from affectation, and even the critical Lawrence Grant was + struck with the dignity which her narrow simplicity, that had seemed small + even in Sidon, attained in her palatial hall in San Francisco. It appeared + to be a perfectly logical conclusion that when such unaffectedness and + simplicity were forced to assume a hostile attitude to anybody, the latter + must be to blame. + </p> + <p> + Since the festival of Tasajara Mr. Grant had been a frequent visitor at + Harcourt's, and was a guest on the eve of his departure from San + Francisco. The distinguished position of each made their relations appear + quite natural without inciting gossip as to any attraction in Harcourt's + daughters. It was late one afternoon as he was passing the door of + Harcourt's study that his host called him in. He found him sitting at his + desk with some papers before him and a folded copy of the “Clarion.” With + his back to the fading light of the window his face was partly in shadow. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Grant,” he began, with an assumption of carelessness somewhat + inconsistent with the fact that he had just called him in, “it may be + necessary for me to pull up those fellows who are blackguarding me in the + 'Clarion.'” + </p> + <p> + “Why, they haven't been saying anything new?” asked Grant, laughingly, as + he glanced towards the paper. + </p> + <p> + “No—that is—only a rehash of what they said before,” returned + Harcourt without opening the paper. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Grant playfully, “you don't mind their saying that you're NOT + the original pioneer of Tasajara, for it's true; nor that that fellow + 'Lige Curtis disappeared suddenly, for he did, if I remember rightly. But + there's nothing in that to invalidate your rights to Tasajara, to say + nothing of your five years' undisputed possession.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course there's no LEGAL question,” said Harcourt almost sharply. “But + as a matter of absurd report, I may want to contradict their insinuations. + And YOU remember all the circumstances, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so! Why, my dear fellow, I've told it everywhere!—here, + in New York, Newport, and in London; by Jove, it's one of my best stories! + How a company sent me out with a surveyor to look up a railroad and + agricultural possibilities in the wilderness; how just as I found them—and + a rather big thing they made, too—I was set afloat by a flood and a + raft, and drifted ashore on your bank, and practically demonstrated to you + what you didn't know and didn't dare to hope for—that there could be + a waterway straight to Sidon from the embarcadero. I've told what a + charming evening we had with you and your daughters in the old house, and + how I returned your hospitality by giving you a tip about the railroad; + and how you slipped out while we were playing cards, to clinch the bargain + for the land with that drunken fellow, 'Lige Curtis”— + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” interrupted Harcourt, quickly. + </p> + <p> + It was well that the shadow hid from Grant the expression of Harcourt's + face, or his reply might have been sharper. As it was, he answered a + little stiffly:— + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon”— + </p> + <p> + Harcourt recovered himself. “You're all wrong!” he said, “that bargain was + made long BEFORE; I never saw 'Lige Curtis after you came to the house. It + was before that, in the afternoon,” he went on hurriedly, “that he was + last in my store. I can prove it.” Nevertheless he was so shocked and + indignant at being confronted in his own suppressions and falsehoods by an + even greater and more astounding misconception of fact, that for a moment + he felt helpless. What, he reflected, if it were alleged that 'Lige had + returned again after the loafers had gone, or had never left the store as + had been said? Nonsense! There was John Milton, who had been there reading + all the time, and who could disprove it. Yes, but John Milton was his + discarded son,—his enemy,—perhaps even his very slanderer! + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Grant quietly, “don't you remember that your daughter Euphemia + said something that evening about the land Lige had OFFERED you, and you + snapped up the young lady rather sharply for letting out secrets, and THEN + you went out? At least that's my impression.” + </p> + <p> + It was, however, more than an impression; with Grant's scientific memory + for characteristic details he had noticed that particular circumstance as + part of the social phenomena. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what Phemie SAID,” returned Harcourt, impatiently. “I KNOW + there was no offer pending; the land had been sold to me before I ever saw + you. Why—you must have thought me up to pretty sharp practice with + Curtis—eh?” he added, with a forced laugh. + </p> + <p> + Grant smiled; he had been accustomed to hear of such sharp practice among + his business acquaintance, although he himself by nature and profession + was incapable of it, but he had not deemed Harcourt more scrupulous than + others. “Perhaps so,” he said lightly, “but for Heaven's sake don't ask me + to spoil my reputation as a raconteur for the sake of a mere fact or two. + I assure you it's a mighty taking story as I tell it—and it don't + hurt you in a business way. You're the hero of it—hang it all!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Harcourt, without noticing Grant's half cynical superiority, + “but you'll oblige me if you won't tell it again IN THAT WAY. There are + men here mean enough to make the worst of it. It's nothing to me, of + course, but my family—the girls, you know—are rather + sensitive.” + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea they even knew it,—much less cared for it,” said + Grant, with sudden seriousness. “I dare say if those fellows in the + 'Clarion' knew that they were annoying the ladies they'd drop it. Who's + the editor? Look here—leave it to me; I'll look into it. Better that + you shouldn't appear in the matter at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You understand that if it was a really serious matter, Grant,” said + Harcourt with a slight attitude, “I shouldn't allow any one to take my + place.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, there'll be nobody 'called out' and no 'shooting at + sight,' whatever is the result of my interference,” returned Grant, + lightly. “It'll be all right.” He was quite aware of the power of his own + independent position and the fact that he had been often appealed to + before in delicate arbitration. + </p> + <p> + Harcourt was equally conscious of this, but by a strange inconsistency now + felt relieved at the coolness with which Grant had accepted the + misconception which had at first seemed so dangerous. If he were ready to + condone what he thought was SHARP PRACTICE, he could not be less lenient + with the real facts that might come out,—of course always excepting + that interpolated consideration in the bill of sale, which, however, no + one but the missing Curtis could ever discover. The fact that a man of + Grant's secure position had interested himself in this matter would secure + him from the working of that personal vulgar jealousy which his humbler + antecedents had provoked. And if, as he fancied, Grant really cared for + Clementina— + </p> + <p> + “As you like,” he said, with half-affected lightness, “and now let us talk + of something else. Clementina has been thinking of getting up a riding + party to San Mateo for Mrs. Ashwood. We must show them some civility, and + that Boston brother of hers, Mr. Shipley, will have to be invited also. I + can't get away, and my wife, of course, will only be able to join them at + San Mateo in the carriage. I reckon it would be easier for Clementina if + you took my place, and helped her look after the riding party. It will + need a man, and I think she'd prefer you—as you know she's rather + particular—unless, of course, you'd be wanted for Mrs. Ashwood or + Phemie, or somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + From his shadowed corner he could see that a pleasant light had sprung + into Grant's eyes, although his reply was in his ordinary easy banter. “I + shall be only too glad to act as Miss Clementina's vaquero, and lasso her + runaways, or keep stragglers in the road.” + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be small necessity, however, for this active co-operation, + for when the cheerful cavalcade started from the house a few mornings + later, Mr. Lawrence Grant's onerous duties seemed to be simply confined to + those of an ordinary cavalier at the side of Miss Clementina, a few paces + in the rear of the party. But this safe distance gave them the opportunity + of conversing without being overheard,—an apparently discreet + precaution. + </p> + <p> + “Your father was so exceedingly affable to me the other day that if I + hadn't given you my promise to say nothing, I think I would have fallen on + my knees to him then and there, revealed my feelings, asked for your hand + and his blessing—or whatever one does at such a time. But how long + do you intend to keep me in this suspense?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina turned her clear eyes half abstractedly upon him, as if + imperfectly recalling some forgotten situation. “You forget,” she said, + “that part of your promise was that you wouldn't even speak of it to me + again without my permission.” + </p> + <p> + “But my time is so short now. Give me some definite hope before I go. Let + me believe that when we meet in New York”— + </p> + <p> + “You will find me just the same as now! Yes, I think I can promise THAT. + Let that suffice. You said the other day you liked me because I had not + changed for five years. You can surely trust that I will not alter in as + many months.” + </p> + <p> + “If I only knew”— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if I only knew,—if WE ALL only knew. But we don't. Come, Mr. + Grant, let it rest as it is. Unless you want to go still further back and + have it as it WAS, at Sidon. There I think you fancied Euphemia most.” + </p> + <p> + “Clementina!” + </p> + <p> + “That is my name, and those people ahead of us know it already.” + </p> + <p> + “You are called CLEMENTINA,—but you are not merciful!” + </p> + <p> + “You are very wrong, for you might see that Mr. Shipley has twice checked + his horse that he might hear what you are saying, and Phemie is always + showing Mrs. Ashwood something in the landscape behind us.” + </p> + <p> + All this was the more hopeless and exasperating to Grant since in the + young girl's speech and manner there was not the slightest trace of + coquetry or playfulness. He could not help saying a little bitterly: “I + don't think that any one would imagine from your manner that you were + receiving a declaration.” + </p> + <p> + “But they might imagine from yours that you had the right to quarrel with + me,—which would be worse.” + </p> + <p> + “We cannot part like this! It is too cruel to me.” + </p> + <p> + “We cannot part otherwise without the risk of greater cruelty.” + </p> + <p> + “But say at least, Clementina, that I have no rival. There is no other + more favored suitor?” + </p> + <p> + “That is so like a man—and yet so unlike the proud one I believed + you to be. Why should a man like you even consider such a possibility? If + I were a man I know I couldn't.” She turned upon him a glance so clear and + untroubled by either conscious vanity or evasion that he was hopelessly + convinced of the truth of her statement, and she went on in a slightly + lowered tone, “You have no right to ask me such a question,—but + perhaps for that reason I am willing to answer you. There is none. Hush! + For a good rider you are setting a poor example to the others, by crowding + me towards the bank. Go forward and talk to Phemie, and tell her not to + worry Mrs. Ashwood's horse nor race with her; I don't think he's quite + safe, and Mrs. Ashwood isn't accustomed to using the Spanish bit. I + suppose I must say something to Mr. Shipley, who doesn't seem to + understand that I'M acting as chaperon, and YOU as captain of the party.” + </p> + <p> + She cantered forward as she spoke, and Grant was obliged to join her + sister, who, mounted on a powerful roan, was mischievously exciting a + beautiful quaker-colored mustang ridden by Mrs. Ashwood, already irritated + by the unfamiliar pressure of the Eastern woman's hand upon his bit. The + thick dust which had forced the party of twenty to close up in two solid + files across the road compelled them at the first opening in the roadside + fence to take the field in a straggling gallop. Grant, eager to escape + from his own discontented self by doing something for others, reined in + beside Euphemia and the fair stranger. + </p> + <p> + “Let me take your place until Mrs. Ashwood's horse is quieted,” he half + whispered to Euphemia. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,—and I suppose it does not make any matter to Clem who + quiets mine,” she said, with provoking eyes and a toss of her head worthy + of the spirited animal she was riding. + </p> + <p> + “She thinks you quite capable of managing yourself and even others,” he + replied with a playful glance at Shipley, who was riding somewhat stiffly + on the other side. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be too sure,” retorted Phemie with another dangerous look; “I may + give you trouble yet.” + </p> + <p> + They were approaching the first undulation of the russet plain they had + emerged upon,—an umbrageous slope that seemed suddenly to diverge in + two defiles among the shaded hills. Grant had given a few words of + practical advice to Mrs. Ashwood, and shown her how to guide her mustang + by the merest caressing touch of the rein upon its sensitive neck. He had + not been sympathetically inclined towards the fair stranger, a rich and + still youthful widow, although he could not deny her unquestioned good + breeding, mental refinement, and a certain languorous thoughtfulness that + was almost melancholy, which accented her blonde delicacy. But he had + noticed that her manner was politely reserved and slightly constrained + towards the Harcourts, and he had already resented it with a lover's + instinctive loyalty. He had at first attributed it to a want of sympathy + between Mrs. Ashwood's more intellectual sentimentalities and the + Harcourts' undeniable lack of any sentiment whatever. But there was + evidently some other innate antagonism. He was very polite to Mrs. + Ashwood; she responded with a gentlewoman's courtesy, and, he was forced + to admit, even a broader comprehension of his own merits than the Harcourt + girls had ever shown, but he could still detect that she was not in accord + with the party. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you do not like California, Mrs. Ashwood?” he said + pleasantly. “You perhaps find the life here too unrestrained and + unconventional?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in quick astonishment. “Are you quite sincere? Why, it + strikes me that this is just what it is NOT. And I have so longed for + something quite different. From what I have been told about the + originality and adventure of everything here, and your independence of old + social forms and customs, I am afraid I expected the opposite of what I've + seen. Why, this very party—except that the ladies are prettier and + more expensively gotten up—is like any party that might have ridden + out at Saratoga or New York.” + </p> + <p> + “And as stupid, you would say.” + </p> + <p> + “As CONVENTIONAL, Mr. Grant; always excepting this lovely creature beneath + me, whom I can't make out and who doesn't seem to care that I should. + There! look! I told you so!” + </p> + <p> + Her mustang had suddenly bounded forward; but as Grant followed he could + see that the cause was the example of Phemie, who had, in some mad freak, + dashed out in a frantic gallop. A half-dozen of the younger people + hilariously accepted the challenge; the excitement was communicated to the + others, until the whole cavalcade was sweeping down the slope. Grant was + still at Mrs. Ashwood's side, restraining her mustang and his own + impatient horse when Clementina joined them. “Phemie's mare has really + bolted, I fear,” she said in a quick whisper, “ride on, and never mind + us.” Grant looked quickly ahead; Phemie's roan, excited by the shouts + behind her and to all appearance ungovernable, was fast disappearing with + her rider. Without a word, trusting to his own good horsemanship and + better knowledge of the ground, he darted out of the cavalcade to overtake + her. + </p> + <p> + But the unfortunate result of this was to give further impulse to the now + racing horses as they approached a point where the slope terminated in two + diverging canyons. Mrs. Ashwood gave a sharp pull upon her bit. To her + consternation the mustang stopped short almost instantly,—planting + his two fore feet rigidly in the dust and even sliding forward with the + impetus. Had her seat been less firm she might have been thrown, but she + recovered herself, although in doing so she still bore upon the bit, when + to her astonishment the mustang deliberately stiffened himself as if for a + shock, and then began to back slowly, quivering with excitement. She did + not know that her native-bred animal fondly believed that he was + participating in a rodeo, and that to his equine intelligence his fair + mistress had just lassoed something! In vain she urged him forward; he + still waited for the shock! When the cloud of dust in which she had been + enwrapped drifted away, she saw to her amazement that she was alone. The + entire party had disappeared into one of the canyons,—but which one + she could not tell! + </p> + <p> + When she succeeded at last in urging her mustang forward again she + determined to take the right-hand canyon and trust to being either met or + overtaken. A more practical and less adventurous nature would have waited + at the point of divergence for the return of some of the party, but Mrs. + Ashwood was, in truth, not sorry to be left to herself and the novel + scenery for a while, and she had no doubt but she would eventually find + her way to the hotel at San Mateo, which could not be far away, in time + for luncheon. + </p> + <p> + The road was still well defined, although it presently began to wind + between ascending ranks of pines and larches that marked the terraces of + hills, so high that she wondered she had not noticed them from the plains. + An unmistakable suggestion of some haunting primeval solitude, a sense of + the hushed and mysterious proximity of a nature she had never known + before, the strange half-intoxicating breath of unsunned foliage and + untrodden grasses and herbs, all combined to exalt her as she cantered + forward. Even her horse seemed to have acquired an intelligent liberty, or + rather to have established a sympathy with her in his needs and her own + longings; instinctively she no longer pulled him with the curb; the reins + hung loosely on his self-arched and unfettered neck; secure in this + loneliness she found herself even talking to him with barbaric freedom. As + she went on, the vague hush of all things animate and inanimate around her + seemed to thicken, until she unconsciously halted before a dim and + pillared wood, and a vast and heathless opening on whose mute brown lips + Nature seemed to have laid the finger of silence. She forgot the party she + had left, she forgot the luncheon she was going to; more important still + she forgot that she had already left the traveled track far behind her, + and, tremulous with anticipation, rode timidly into that arch of shadow. + </p> + <p> + As her horse's hoofs fell noiselessly on the elastic moss-carpeted aisle + she forgot even more than that. She forgot the artificial stimulus and + excitement of the life she had been leading so long; she forgot the small + meannesses and smaller worries of her well-to-do experiences; she forgot + herself,—rather she regained a self she had long forgotten. For in + the sweet seclusion of this half darkened sanctuary the clinging + fripperies of her past slipped from her as a tawdry garment. The petted, + spoiled, and vapidly precocious girlhood which had merged into a womanhood + of aimless triumphs and meaner ambitions; the worldly but miserable + triumph of a marriage that had left her delicacy abused and her heart sick + and unsatisfied; the wifehood without home, seclusion, or maternity; the + widowhood that at last brought relief, but with it the consciousness of + hopelessly wasted youth,—all this seemed to drop from her here as + lightly as the winged needles or noiseless withered spray from the dim + gray vault above her head. In the sovereign balm of that woodland breath + her better spirit was restored; somewhere in these wholesome shades seemed + to still lurk what should have been her innocent and nymph-like youth, and + to come out once more and greet her. Old songs she had forgotten, or whose + music had failed in the discords of her frivolous life, sang themselves to + her again in that sweet, grave silence; girlish dreams that she had + foolishly been ashamed of, or had put away with her childish toys, stole + back to her once more and became real in this tender twilight; old + fancies, old fragments of verse and childish lore, grew palpable and moved + faintly before her. The boyish prince who should have come was there; the + babe that should have been hers was there!—she stopped suddenly with + flaming eyes and indignant color. For it appeared that a MAN was there + too, and had just risen from the fallen tree where he had been sitting. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + She had so far forgotten herself in yielding to the spell of the place, + and in the revelation of her naked soul and inner nature, that it was with + something of the instinct of outraged modesty that she seemed to shrink + before this apparition of the outer world and outer worldliness. In an + instant the nearer past returned; she remembered where she was, how she + had come there, from whom she had come, and to whom she was returning. She + could see that she had not only aimlessly wandered from the world but from + the road; and for that instant she hated this man who had reminded her of + it, even while she knew she must ask his assistance. It relieved her + slightly to observe that he seemed as disturbed and impatient as herself, + and as he took a pencil from between his lips and returned it to his + pocket he scarcely looked at her. + </p> + <p> + But with her return to the world of convenances came its repression, and + with a gentlewoman's ease and modulated voice she leaned over her + mustang's neck and said: “I have strayed from my party and am afraid I + have lost my way. We were going to the hotel at San Mateo. Would you be + kind enough to direct me there, or show me how I can regain the road by + which I came?” + </p> + <p> + Her voice and manner were quite enough to arrest him where he stood with a + pleased surprise in his fresh and ingenuous face. She looked at him more + closely. He was, in spite of his long silken mustache, so absurdly young; + he might, in spite of that youth, be so absurdly man-like! What was he + doing there? Was he a farmer's son, an artist, a surveyor, or a city clerk + out for a holiday? Was there perhaps a youthful female of his species + somewhere for whom he was waiting and upon whose tryst she was now + breaking? Was he—terrible thought!—the outlying picket of some + family picnic? His dress, neat, simple, free from ostentatious ornament, + betrayed nothing. She waited for his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you have left San Mateo miles away to the right,” he said with quick + youthful sympathy, “at least five miles! Where did you leave your party?” + </p> + <p> + His voice was winning, and even refined, she thought. She answered it + quite spontaneously: “At a fork of two roads. I see now I took the wrong + turning.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you took the road to Crystal Spring. It's just down there in the + valley, not more than a mile. You'd have been there now if you hadn't + turned off at the woods.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't help it, it was so beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfect.” + </p> + <p> + “And such shadows, and such intensity of color.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful!—and all along the ridge, looking down that defile!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and that point where it seems as if you had only to stretch out your + hand to pick a manzanita berry from the other side of the canyon, half a + mile across!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and that first glimpse of the valley through the Gothic gateway of + rocks!” + </p> + <p> + “And the color of those rocks,—cinnamon and bronze with the light + green of the Yerba buena vine splashing over them.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but for color DID you notice that hillside of yellow poppies pouring + down into the valley like a golden Niagara?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,—and the perfect clearness of everything.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet such complete silence and repose!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes!” + </p> + <p> + They were both gravely nodding and shaking their heads with sparkling eyes + and brightened color, looking not at each other but at the far landscape + vignetted through a lozenge-shaped wind opening in the trees. Suddenly + Mrs. Ashwood straightened herself in the saddle, looked grave, lifted the + reins and apparently the ten years with them that had dropped from her. + But she said in her easiest well-bred tones, and a half sigh, “Then I must + take the road back again to where it forks?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! you can go by Crystal Spring. It's no further, and I'll show you + the way. But you'd better stop and rest yourself and your horse for a + little while at the Springs Hotel. It's a very nice place. Many people + ride there from San Francisco to luncheon and return. I wonder that your + party didn't prefer it; and if they are looking for you,—as they + surely must be,” he said, as if with a sudden conception of her + importance, “they'll come there when they find you're not at San Mateo.” + </p> + <p> + This seemed reasonable, although the process of being “fetched” and taking + the five miles ride, which she had enjoyed so much alone, in company was + not attractive. “Couldn't I go on at once?” she said impulsively. + </p> + <p> + “You would meet them sooner,” he said thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + This was quite enough for Mrs. Ashwood. “I think I'll rest this poor + horse, who is really tired,” she, said with charming hypocrisy, “and stop + at the hotel.” + </p> + <p> + She saw his face brighten. Perhaps he was the son of the hotel proprietor, + or a youthful partner himself. “I suppose you live here?” she suggested + gently. “You seem to know the place so well.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he returned quickly; “I only run down here from San Francisco when I + can get a day off.” + </p> + <p> + A day off! He was in some regular employment. But he continued: “And I + used to go to boarding-school near here, and know all these woods well.” + </p> + <p> + He must be a native! How odd! She had not conceived that there might be + any other population here than the immigrants; perhaps that was what made + him so interesting and different from the others. “Then your father and + mother live here?” she said. + </p> + <p> + His frank face, incapable of disguise, changed suddenly. “No,” he said + simply, but without any trace of awkwardness. Then after a slight pause he + laid his hand—she noticed it was white and well kept—on her + mustang's neck, and said, “If—if you care to trust yourself to me, I + could lead you and your horse down a trail into the valley that is at + least a third of the distance shorter. It would save you going back to the + regular road, and there are one or two lovely views that I could show you. + I should be so pleased, if it would not trouble you. There's a steep place + or two—but I think there's no danger.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be afraid.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled so graciously, and, as she fully believed, maternally, that he + looked at her the second time. To his first hurried impression of her as + an elegant and delicately nurtured woman—one of the class of + distinguished tourists that fashion was beginning to send thither—he + had now to add that she had a quantity of fine silken-spun light hair + gathered in a heavy braid beneath her gray hat; that her mouth was very + delicately lipped and beautifully sensitive; that her soft skin, although + just then touched with excitement, was a pale faded velvet, and seemed to + be worn with ennui rather than experience; that her eyes were hidden + behind a strip of gray veil whence only a faint glow was discernible. To + this must still be added a poetic fancy all his own that, as she sat + there, with the skirt of her gray habit falling from her long bodiced + waist over the mustang's fawn-colored flanks, and with her slim gauntleted + hands lightly swaying the reins, she looked like Queen Guinevere in the + forest. Not that he particularly fancied Queen Guinevere, or that he at + all imagined himself Launcelot, but it was quite in keeping with the + suggestion-haunted brain of John Milton Harcourt, whom the astute reader + has of course long since recognized. + </p> + <p> + Preceding her through the soft carpeted vault with a woodman's instinct,—for + there was apparently no trail to be seen,—the soft inner twilight + began to give way to the outer stronger day, and presently she was + startled to see the clear blue of the sky before her on apparently the + same level as the brown pine-tessellated floor she was treading. Not only + did this show her that she was crossing a ridge of the upland, but a few + moments later she had passed beyond the woods to a golden hillside that + sloped towards a leafy, sheltered, and exquisitely-proportioned valley. A + tiny but picturesque tower, and a few straggling roofs and gables, the + flashing of a crystal stream through the leaves, and a narrow white ribbon + of road winding behind it indicated the hostelry they were seeking. So + peaceful and unfrequented it looked, nestling between the hills, that it + seemed as if they had discovered it. + </p> + <p> + With his hand at times upon the bridle, at others merely caressing her + mustang's neck, he led the way; there were a few breathless places where + the crown of his straw hat appeared between her horse's reins, and again + when she seemed almost slipping over on his shoulder, but they were passed + with such frank fearlessness and invincible youthful confidence on the + part of her escort that she felt no timidity. There were moments when a + bit of the charmed landscape unfolding before them overpowered them both, + and they halted to gaze,—sometimes without a word, or only a + significant gesture of sympathy and attention. At one of those artistic + manifestations Mrs. Ashwood laid her slim gloved fingers lightly but + unwittingly on John Milton's arm, and withdrew them, however, with a quick + girlish apology and a foolish color which annoyed her more than the + appearance of familiarity. But they were now getting well down into the + valley; the court of the little hotel was already opening before them; + their unconventional relations in the idyllic world above had changed; the + new one required some delicacy of handling, and she had an idea that even + the simplicity of the young stranger might be confusing. + </p> + <p> + “I must ask you to continue to act as my escort,” she said, laughingly. “I + am Mrs. Ashwood of Philadelphia, visiting San Francisco with my sister and + brother, who are, I am afraid, even now hopelessly waiting luncheon for me + at San Mateo. But as there seems to be no prospect of my joining them in + time, I hope you will be able to give me the pleasure of your company, + with whatever they may give us here in the way of refreshment.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be very happy,” returned John Milton with unmistakable candor; + “but perhaps some of your friends will be arriving in quest of you, if + they are not already here.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they will join us or wait,” said Mrs. Ashwood incisively, with her + first exhibition of the imperiousness of a rich and pretty woman. Perhaps + she was a little annoyed that her elaborate introduction of herself had + produced no reciprocal disclosure by her companion. “Will you please send + the landlord to me?” she added. + </p> + <p> + John Milton disappeared in the hotel as she cantered to the porch. In + another moment she was giving the landlord her orders with the easy + confidence of one who knew herself only as an always welcome and highly + privileged guest, which was not without its effect. “And,” she added + carelessly, “when everything is ready you will please tell—Mr.”— + </p> + <p> + “Harcourt,” suggested the landlord promptly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood's perfectly trained face gave not the slightest sign of the + surprise that had overtaken her. “Of course,—Mr. Harcourt.” + </p> + <p> + “You know he's the son of the millionaire,” continued the landlord, not at + all unwilling to display the importance of the habitues of Crystal Spring, + “though they've quarreled and don't get on together.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said the lady languidly, “and, if any one comes here for ME, ask + them to wait in the parlor until I come.” + </p> + <p> + Then, submitting herself and her dusty habit to the awkward ministration + of the Irish chambermaid, she was quite thrilled with a delightful + curiosity. She vaguely remembered that she had heard something of the + Harcourt family discord,—but that was the divorced daughter surely! + And this young man was Harcourt's son, and they had quarreled! A quarrel + with a frank, open, ingenuous fellow like that—a mere boy—could + only be the father's fault. Luckily she had never mentioned the name of + Harcourt! She would not now; he need not know that it was his father who + had originated the party; why should she make him uncomfortable for the + few moments they were together? + </p> + <p> + There was nothing of this in her face as she descended and joined him. He + thought that face handsome, well-bred, and refined. But this breeding and + refinement seemed to him—in his ignorance of the world, possibly—as + only a graceful concealment of a self of which he knew nothing; and he was + not surprised to find that her pretty gray eyes, now no longer hidden by + her veil, really told him no more than her lips. He was a little afraid of + her, and now that she had lost her naive enthusiasm he was conscious of a + vague remorsefulness for his interrupted work in the forest. What was he + doing here? He who had avoided the cruel, selfish world of wealth and + pleasure,—a world that this woman represented,—the world that + had stood apart from him in the one dream of his life—and had let + Loo die! His quickly responsive face darkened. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I really interrupted you up there,” she said gently, looking + in his face with an expression of unfeigned concern; “you were at work of + some kind, I know, and I have very selfishly thought only of myself. But + the whole scene was so new to me, and I so rarely meet any one who sees + things as I do, that I know you will forgive me.” She bent her eyes upon + him with a certain soft timidity. “You are an artist?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid not,” he said, coloring and smiling faintly; “I don't think I + could draw a straight line.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't try to; they're not pretty, and the mere ability to draw them + straight or curved doesn't make an artist. But you are a LOVER of nature, + I know, and from what I have heard you say I believe you can do what + lovers cannot do,—make others feel as they do,—and that is + what I call being an artist. You write? You are a poet?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear, no,” he said with a smile, half of relief and half of naive + superiority, “I'm a prose writer—on a daily newspaper.” + </p> + <p> + To his surprise she was not disconcerted; rather a look of animation lit + up her face as she said brightly, “Oh, then, you can of course satisfy my + curiosity about something. You know the road from San Francisco to the + Cliff House. Except for the view of the sea-lions when one gets there it's + stupid; my brother says it's like all the San Francisco excursions,—a + dusty drive with a julep at the end of it. Well, one day we were coming + back from a drive there, and when we were beginning to wind along the brow + of that dreadful staring Lone Mountain Cemetery, I said I would get out + and walk, and avoid the obtrusive glitter of those tombstones rising + before me all the way. I pushed open a little gate and passed in. Once + among these funereal shrubs and cold statuesque lilies everything was + changed; I saw the staring tombstones no longer, for, like them, I seemed + to be always facing the sea. The road had vanished; everything had + vanished but the endless waste of ocean below me, and the last slope of + rock and sand. It seemed to be the fittest place for a cemetery,—this + end of the crumbling earth,—this beginning of the eternal sea. + There! don't think that idea my own, or that I thought of it then. No,—I + read it all afterwards, and that's why I'm telling you this.” + </p> + <p> + She could not help smiling at his now attentive face, and went on: “Some + days afterwards I got hold of a newspaper four or six months old, and + there was a description of all that I thought I had seen and felt,—only + far more beautiful and touching, as you shall see, for I cut it out of the + paper and have kept it. It seemed to me that it must be some personal + experience,—as if the writer had followed some dear friend there,—although + it was with the unostentation and indefiniteness of true and delicate + feeling. It impressed me so much that I went back there twice or thrice, + and always seemed to move to the rhythm of that beautiful funeral march—and + I am afraid, being a woman, that I wandered around among the graves as + though I could find out who it was that had been sung so sweetly, and if + it were man or woman. I've got it here,” she said, taking a dainty ivory + porte-monnaie from her pocket and picking out with two slim finger-tips a + folded slip of newspaper; “and I thought that maybe you might recognize + the style of the writer, and perhaps know something of his history. For I + believe he has one. There! that is only a part of the article, of course, + but it is the part that interested me. Just read from there,” she pointed, + leaning partly over his shoulder so that her soft breath stirred his hair, + “to the end; it isn't long.” + </p> + <p> + In the film that seemed to come across his eyes, suddenly the print + appeared blurred and indistinct. But he knew that she had put into his + hand something he had written after the death of his wife; something + spontaneous and impulsive, when her loss still filled his days and nights + and almost unconsciously swayed his pen. He remembered that his eyes had + been as dim when he wrote it—and now—handed to him by this + smiling, well-to-do woman, he was as shocked at first as if he had + suddenly found her reading his private letters. This was followed by a + sudden sense of shame that he had ever thus publicly bared his feelings, + and then by the illogical but irresistible conviction that it was false + and stupid. The few phrases she had pointed out appeared as cheap and + hollow rhetoric amid the surroundings of their social tete-a-tete over the + luncheon-table. There was small danger that this heady wine of woman's + praise would make him betray himself; there was no sign of gratified + authorship in his voice as he quietly laid down the paper and said dryly: + “I am afraid I can't help you. You know it may be purely fanciful.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so,” said Mrs. Ashwood thoughtfully. “At the same time it + doesn't strike me as a very abiding grief for that very reason. It's TOO + sympathetic. It strikes me that it might be the first grief of some one + too young to be inured to sorrow or experienced enough to accept it as the + common lot. But like all youthful impressions it is very sincere and true + while it lasts. I don't know whether one gets anything more real when one + gets older.” + </p> + <p> + With an insincerity he could not account for, he now felt inclined to + defend his previous sentiment, although all the while conscious of a + certain charm in his companion's graceful skepticism. He had in his + truthfulness and independence hitherto always been quite free from that + feeble admiration of cynicism which attacks the intellectually weak and + immature, and his present predilection may have been due more to her + charming personality. She was not at all like his sisters; she had none of + Clementina's cold abstraction, and none of Euphemia's sharp and + demonstrative effusiveness. And in his secret consciousness of her + flattering foreknowledge of him, with her assurance that before they had + ever met he had unwittingly influenced her, he began to feel more at his + ease. His fair companion also, in the equally secret knowledge she had + acquired of his history, felt as secure as if she had been formally + introduced. Nobody could find fault with her for showing civility to the + ostensible son of her host; it was not necessary that she should be aware + of their family differences. There was a charm too in their enforced + isolation, in what was the exceptional solitude of the little hotel that + day, and the seclusion of their table by the window of the dining-room, + which gave a charming domesticity to their repast. From time to time they + glanced down the lonely canyon, losing itself in the afternoon shadow. + Nevertheless Mrs. Ashwood's preoccupation with Nature did not preclude a + human curiosity to hear something more of John Milton's quarrel with his + father. There was certainly nothing of the prodigal son about him; there + was no precocious evil knowledge in his frank eyes; no record of excesses + in his healthy, fresh complexion; no unwholesome or disturbed tastes in + what she had seen of his rural preferences and understanding of natural + beauty. To have attempted any direct questioning that would have revealed + his name and identity would have obliged her to speak of herself as his + father's guest. She began indirectly; he had said he had been a reporter, + and he was still a chronicler of this strange life. He had of course heard + of many cases of family feuds and estrangements? Her brother had told her + of some dreadful vendettas he had known in the Southwest, and how whole + families had been divided. Since she had been here she had heard of odd + cases of brothers meeting accidentally after long and unaccounted + separations; of husbands suddenly confronted with wives they had deserted; + of fathers encountering discarded sons! + </p> + <p> + John Milton's face betrayed no uneasy consciousness. If anything it was + beginning to glow with a boyish admiration of the grace and intelligence + of the fair speaker, that was perhaps heightened by an assumption of half + coquettish discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + “You are laughing at me!” she said finally. “But inhuman and selfish as + these stories may seem, and sometimes are, I believe that these curious + estrangements and separations often come from some fatal weakness of + temperament that might be strengthened, or some trivial misunderstanding + that could be explained. It is separation that makes them seem irrevocable + only because they are inexplicable, and a vague memory always seems more + terrible than a definite one. Facts may be forgiven and forgotten, but + mysteries haunt one always. I believe there are weak, sensitive people who + dread to put their wrongs into shape; those are the kind who sulk, and + when you add separation to sulking, reconciliation becomes impossible. I + knew a very singular case of that kind once. If you like, I'll tell it to + you. May be you will be able, some day, to weave it into one of your + writings. And it's quite true.” + </p> + <p> + It is hardly necessary to say that John Milton had not been touched by any + personal significance in his companion's speech, whatever she may have + intended; and it is equally true that whether she had presently forgotten + her purpose, or had become suddenly interested in her own conversation, + her face grew more animated, her manner more confidential, and something + of the youthful enthusiasm she had shown in the mountain seemed to come + back to her. + </p> + <p> + “I might say it happened anywhere and call the people M. or N., but it + really did occur in my own family, and although I was much younger at the + time it impressed me very strongly. My cousin, who had been my playmate, + was an orphan, and had been intrusted to the care of my father, who was + his guardian. He was always a clever boy, but singularly sensitive and + quick to take offense. Perhaps it was because the little property his + father had left made him partly dependent on my father, and that I was + rich, but he seemed to feel the disparity in our positions. I was too + young to understand it; I think it existed only in his imagination, for I + believe we were treated alike. But I remember that he was full of vague + threats of running away and going to sea, and that it was part of his weak + temperament to terrify me with his extravagant confidences. I was always + frightened when, after one of those scenes, he would pack his valise or + perhaps only tie up a few things in a handkerchief, as in the + advertisement pictures of the runaway slaves, and declare that we would + never lay eyes upon him again. At first I never saw the ridiculousness of + all this,—for I ought to have told you that he was a rather delicate + and timid boy, and quite unfitted for a rough life or any exposure,—but + others did, and one day I laughed at him and told him he was afraid. I + shall never forget the expression of his face and never forgive myself for + it. He went away,—but he returned the next day! He threatened once + to commit suicide, left his clothes on the bank of the river, and came + home in another suit of clothes he had taken with him. When I was sent + abroad to school I lost sight of him; when I returned he was at college, + apparently unchanged. When he came home for vacation, far from having been + subdued by contact with strangers, it seemed that his unhappy + sensitiveness had been only intensified by the ridicule of his fellows. He + had even acquired a most ridiculous theory about the degrading effects of + civilization, and wanted to go back to a state of barbarism. He said the + wilderness was the only true home of man. My father, instead of bearing + with what I believe was his infirmity, dryly offered him the means to try + his experiment. He started for some place in Texas, saying we would never + hear from him again. A month after he wrote for more money. My father + replied rather impatiently, I suppose,—I never knew exactly what he + wrote. That was some years ago. He had told the truth at last, for we + never heard from him again.” + </p> + <p> + It is to be feared that John Milton was following the animated lips and + eyes of the fair speaker rather than her story. Perhaps that was the + reason why he said, “May he not have been a disappointed man?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand,” she said simply. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said John Milton with a boyish blush, “you may have + unconsciously raised hopes in his heart—and”— + </p> + <p> + “I should hardly attempt to interest a chronicler of adventure like you in + such a very commonplace, every-day style of romance,” she said, with a + little impatience, “even if my vanity compelled me to make such + confidences to a stranger. No,—it was nothing quite as vulgar as + that. And,” she added quickly, with a playfully amused smile as she saw + the young fellow's evident distress, “I should have probably heard from + him again. Those stories always end in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think?”—said John Milton. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Mrs. Ashwood slowly, “that he actually did commit suicide—or + effaced himself in some way, just as firmly as I believe he might have + been saved by judicious treatment. Otherwise we should have heard from + him. You'll say that's only a woman's reasoning—but I think our + perceptions are often instinctive, and I knew his character.” + </p> + <p> + Still following the play of her delicate features into a romance of his + own weaving, the imaginative young reporter who had seen so much from the + heights of Russian Hill said earnestly, “Then I have your permission to + use this material at any future time?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the lady smilingly. + </p> + <p> + “And you will not mind if I should take some liberties with the text?” + </p> + <p> + “I must of course leave something to your artistic taste. But you will let + me see it?” + </p> + <p> + There were voices outside now, breaking the silence of the veranda. They + had been so preoccupied as not to notice the arrival of a horseman. Steps + came along the passage; the landlord returned. Mrs. Ashwood turned quickly + towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Grant, of your party, ma'am, to fetch you.” + </p> + <p> + She saw an unmistakable change in her young friend's mobile face. “I will + be ready in a moment,” she said to the landlord. Then, turning to John + Milton, the arch-hypocrite said sweetly: “My brother must have known + instinctively that I was in good hands, as he didn't come. But I am sorry, + for I should have so liked to introduce him to you—although by the + way,” with a bright smile, “I don't think you have yet told me your name. + I know I couldn't have FORGOTTEN it.” + </p> + <p> + “Harcourt,” said John Milton, with a half-embarrassed laugh. + </p> + <p> + “But you must come and see me, Mr.—Mr. Harcourt,” she said, + producing a card from a case already in her fingers, “at my hotel, and let + my brother thank you there for your kindness and gallantry to a stranger. + I shall be here a few weeks longer before we go south to look for a place + where my brother can winter. DO come and see me, although I cannot + introduce you to anything as real and beautiful as what YOU have shown me + to-day. Good-by, Mr. Harcourt; I won't trouble you to come down and bore + yourself with my escort's questions and congratulations.” + </p> + <p> + She bent her head and allowed her soft eyes to rest upon his with a + graciousness that was beyond her speech, pulled her veil over her eyes + again, with a pretty suggestion that she had no further use for them, and + taking her riding-skirt lightly in her hand seemed to glide from the room. + </p> + <p> + On her way to San Mateo, where it appeared the disorganized party had + prolonged their visit to accept an invitation to dine with a local + magnate, she was pleasantly conversational with the slightly abstracted + Grant. She was so sorry to have given them all this trouble and anxiety! + Of course she ought to have waited at the fork of the road, but she had + never doubted but she could rejoin them presently on the main road. She + was glad that Miss Euphemia's runaway horse had been stopped without + accident; it would have been dreadful if anything had happened to HER; Mr. + Harcourt seemed so wrapped up in his girls. It was a pity they never had a + son—Ah? Indeed! Then there was a son? So—and father and son + had quarreled? That was so sad. And for some trifling cause, no doubt? + </p> + <p> + “I believe he married the housemaid,” said Grant grimly. “Be careful!—Allow + me.” + </p> + <p> + “It's no use!” said Mrs. Ashwood, flushing with pink impatience, as she + recovered her seat, which a sudden bolt of her mustang had imperiled, “I + really can't make out the tricks of this beast! Thank you,” she added, + with a sweet smile, “but I think I can manage him now. I can't see why he + stopped. I'll be more careful. You were saying the son was married—surely + not that boy!” + </p> + <p> + “Boy!” echoed Grant. “Then you know?”— + </p> + <p> + “I mean of course he must be a boy—they all grew up here—and + it was only five or six years ago that their parents emigrated,” she + retorted a little impatiently. “And what about this creature?” + </p> + <p> + “Your horse?” + </p> + <p> + “You know I mean the woman he married. Of course she was older than he—and + caught him?” + </p> + <p> + “I think there was a year or two difference,” said Grant quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but your gallantry keeps you from telling the truth; which is that + the women, in cases of this kind, are much older and more experienced.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they? Well, perhaps she is, NOW. She is dead.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood walked her horse. “Poor thing,” she said. Then a sudden idea + took possession of her and brought a film to her eyes. “How long ago?” she + asked in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “About six or seven months, I think. I believe there was a baby who died + too.” + </p> + <p> + She continued to walk her horse slowly, stroking its curved neck. “I think + it's perfectly shameful!” she said suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Not so bad as that, Mrs. Ashwood, surely. The girl may have loved him—and + he”— + </p> + <p> + “You know perfectly what I mean, Mr. Grant. I speak of the conduct of the + mother and father and those two sisters!” + </p> + <p> + Grant slightly elevated his eyebrows. “But you forget, Mrs. Ashwood. It + was young Harcourt and his wife's own act. They preferred to take their + own path and keep it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Mrs. Ashwood authoritatively, “that the idea of leaving + those two unfortunate children to suffer and struggle on alone—out + there—on the sand hills of San Francisco—was simply + disgraceful!” + </p> + <p> + Later that evening she was unreasonably annoyed to find that her brother, + Mr. John Shipley, had taken advantage of the absence of Grant to pay + marked attention to Clementina, and had even prevailed upon that imperious + goddess to accompany him after dinner on a moonlight stroll upon the + veranda and terraces of Los Pajaros. Nevertheless she seemed to recover + her spirits enough to talk volubly of the beautiful scenery she had + discovered in her late perilous abandonment in the wilds of the Coast + Range; to aver her intention to visit it again; to speak of it in a + severely practical way as offering a far better site for the cottages of + the young married couples just beginning life than the outskirts of towns + or the bleak sand hills of San Francisco; and thence by graceful degrees + into a dissertation upon popular fallacies in regard to hasty marriages, + and the mistaken idea of some parents in not accepting the inevitable and + making the best of it. She still found time to enter into an appreciative + and exhaustive criticism upon the literature and journalistic enterprise + of the Pacific Coast with the proprietor of the “Pioneer,” and to cause + that gentleman to declare that whatever people might say about rich and + fashionable Eastern women, that Mrs. Ashwood's head was about as level as + it was pretty. + </p> + <p> + The next morning found her more thoughtful and subdued, and when her + brother came upon her sitting on the veranda, while the party were + preparing to return, she was reading a newspaper slip that she had taken + from her porte-monnaie, with a face that was partly shadowed. + </p> + <p> + “What have you struck there, Conny?” said her brother gayly. “It looks too + serious for a recipe.” + </p> + <p> + “Something I should like you to read some time, Jack,” she said, lifting + her lashes with a slight timidity, “if you would take the trouble. I + really wonder how it would impress you.” + </p> + <p> + “Pass it over,” said Jack Shipley good-humoredly, with his cigar between + his lips. “I'll take it now.” + </p> + <p> + She handed him the slip and turned partly away; he took it, glanced at it + sideways, turned it over, and suddenly his look grew concentrated, and he + took the cigar from his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said playfully, turning to him again. “What do you think of + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Think of it?” he said with a rising color. “I think it's infamous! Who + did it?” + </p> + <p> + She stared at him, then glanced quickly at the slip. “What are you + reading?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “This, of course,” he said impatiently. “What you gave me.” But he was + pointing to THE OTHER SIDE of the newspaper slip. + </p> + <p> + She took it from him impatiently and read for the first time the printing + on the reverse side of the article she had treasured so long. It was the + concluding paragraph of an apparently larger editorial. “One thing is + certain, that a man in Daniel Harcourt's position cannot afford to pass + over in silence accusations like the above, that affect not only his + private character, but the integrity of his title to the land that was the + foundation of his fortune. When trickery, sharp practice, and even + criminality in the past are more than hinted at, they cannot be met by + mere pompous silence or allusions to private position, social prestige, or + distinguished friends in the present.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood turned the slip over with scornful impatience, a pretty + uplifting of her eyebrows and a slight curl of her lip. “I suppose none of + those people's beginnings can bear looking into—and they certainly + should be the last ones to find fault with anybody. But, good gracious, + Jack! what has this to do with you?” + </p> + <p> + “With me?” said Shipley angrily. “Why, I proposed to Clementina last + night!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER IX. + </h2> + <p> + The wayfarers on the Tasajara turnpike, whom Mr. Daniel Harcourt passed + with his fast trotting mare and sulky, saw that their great + fellow-townsman was more than usually preoccupied and curt in his + acknowledgment of their salutations. Nevertheless as he drew near the + creek, he partly checked his horse, and when he reached a slight acclivity + of the interminable plain—which had really been the bank of the + creek in bygone days—he pulled up, alighted, tied his horse to a + rail fence, and clambering over the inclosure made his way along the + ridge. It was covered with nettles, thistles, and a few wiry dwarf larches + of native growth; dust from the adjacent highway had invaded it, with a + few scattered and torn handbills, waste paper, rags, empty provision cans, + and other suburban debris. Yet it was the site of 'Lige Curtis's cabin, + long since erased and forgotten. The bed of the old creek had receded; the + last tules had been cleared away; the channel and embarcadero were half a + mile from the bank and log whereon the pioneer of Tasajara had idly sunned + himself. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harcourt walked on, occasionally turning over the scattered objects + with his foot, and stopping at times to examine the ground more closely. + It had not apparently been disturbed since he himself, six years ago, had + razed the wretched shanty and carried off its timbers to aid in the + erection of a larger cabin further inland. He raised his eyes to the + prospect before him,—to the town with its steamboats lying at the + wharves, to the grain elevator, the warehouses, the railroad station with + its puffing engines, the flagstaff of Harcourt House and the clustering + roofs of the town, and beyond, the painted dome of his last creation, the + Free Library. This was all HIS work, HIS planning, HIS foresight, whatever + they might say of the wandering drunkard from whose tremulous fingers he + had snatched the opportunity. They could not take THAT from him, however + they might follow him with envy and reviling, any more than they could + wrest from him the five years of peaceful possession. It was with + something of the prosperous consciousness with which he had mounted the + platform on the opening of the Free Library, that he now climbed into his + buggy and drove away. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless he stopped at his Land Office as he drove into town, and gave + a few orders. “I want a strong picket fence put around the fifty-vara lot + in block fifty-seven, and the ground cleared up at once. Let me know when + the men get to work, and I'll overlook them.” + </p> + <p> + Re-entering his own house in the square, where Mrs. Harcourt and + Clementina—who often accompanied him in those business visits—were + waiting for him with luncheon, he smiled somewhat superciliously as the + servant informed him that “Professor Grant had just arrived.” Really that + man was trying to make the most of his time with Clementina! Perhaps the + rival attractions of that Boston swell Shipley had something to do with + it! He must positively talk to Clementina about this. In point of fact he + himself was a little disappointed in Grant, who, since his offer to take + the task of hunting down his calumniators, had really done nothing. He + turned into his study, but was slightly astonished to find that Grant, + instead of paying court to Clementina in the adjoining drawing-room, was + sitting rather thoughtfully in his own armchair. + </p> + <p> + He rose as Harcourt entered. “I didn't let them announce me to the + ladies,” he said, “as I have some important business with you first, and + we may find it necessary that I should take the next train back to town. + You remember that a few weeks ago I offered to look into the matter of + those slanders against you. I apprehended it would be a trifling matter of + envy or jealousy on the part of your old associates or neighbors which + could be put straight with a little good feeling; but I must be frank with + you, Harcourt, and say at the beginning that it turns out to be an + infernally ugly business. Call it conspiracy if you like, or organized + hostility, I'm afraid it will require a lawyer rather than an arbitrator + to manage it, and the sooner the better. For the most unpleasant thing + about it is, that I can't find out exactly HOW BAD it is!” + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately the weaker instinct of Harcourt's nature was first roused; + the vulgar rage which confounds the bearer of ill news with the news + itself filled his breast. “And this is all that your confounded + intermeddling came to?” he said brutally. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Grant quietly, with a preoccupied ignoring of the insult that + was more hopeless for Harcourt. “I found out that it is claimed that this + 'Lige Curtis was not drowned nor lost that night; but that he escaped, and + for three years has convinced another man that you are wrongfully in + possession of this land; that these two naturally hold you in their power, + and that they are only waiting for you to be forced into legal proceedings + for slander to prove all their charges. Until then, for some reason best + known to themselves, Curtis remains in the background.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he deny the deed under which I hold the property?” said Harcourt + savagely. + </p> + <p> + “He says it was only a security for a trifling loan, and not an actual + transfer.” + </p> + <p> + “And don't those fools know that his security could be forfeited?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but not in the way it is recorded in the county clerk's office. They + say that the record shows that there was an interpolation in the paper he + left with you—which was a forgery. Briefly, Harcourt, you are + accused of that. More,—it is intimated that when he fell into the + creek that night, and escaped on a raft that was floating past, that he + had been first stunned by a blow from some one interested in getting rid + of him.” + </p> + <p> + He paused and glanced out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked Harcourt in a perfectly quiet, steady, voice. + </p> + <p> + “All!” replied Grant, struck with the change in his companion's manner, + and turning his eyes upon him quickly. + </p> + <p> + The change indeed was marked and significant. Whether from relief at + knowing the worst, or whether he was experiencing the same reaction from + the utter falsity of this last accusation that he had felt when Grant had + unintentionally wronged him in his previous recollection, certain it is + that some unknown reserve of strength in his own nature, of which he knew + nothing before, suddenly came to his aid in this extremity. It invested + him with an uncouth dignity that for the first time excited Grant's + respect. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Grant, for the hasty way I spoke to you a moment ago, + for I thank you, and appreciate thoroughly and sincerely what you have + done. You are right; it is a matter for fighting and not fussing over. But + I must have a head to hit. Whose is it?” + </p> + <p> + “The man who holds himself legally responsible is Fletcher,—the + proprietor of the 'Clarion,' and a man of property.” + </p> + <p> + “The 'Clarion'? That is the paper which began the attack?” said Harcourt. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and it is only fair to tell you here that your son threw up his + place on it in consequence of its attack upon you.” + </p> + <p> + There was perhaps the slightest possible shrinking in Harcourt's eyelids—the + one congenital likeness to his discarded son—but his otherwise calm + demeanor did not change. Grant went on more cheerfully: “I've told you all + I know. When I spoke of an unknown WORST, I did not refer to any further + accusation, but to whatever evidence they might have fabricated or + suborned to prove any one of them. It is only the strength and fairness of + the hands they hold that is uncertain. Against that you have your certain + uncontested possession, the peculiar character and antecedents of this + 'Lige Curtis, which would make his evidence untrustworthy and even make it + difficult for them to establish his identity. I am told that his failure + to contest your appropriation of his property is explained by the fact of + his being absent from the country most of the time; but again, this would + not account for their silence until within the last six months, unless + they have been waiting for further evidence to establish it. But even then + they must have known that the time of recovery had passed. You are a + practical man, Harcourt; I needn't tell you therefore what your lawyer + will probably tell you, that practically, so far as your rights are + concerned, you remain as before these calumnies; that a cause of action + unprosecuted or in abeyance is practically no cause, and that it is not + for you to anticipate one. BUT”— + </p> + <p> + He paused and looked steadily at Harcourt. Harcourt met his look with a + dull, ox-like stolidity. “I shall begin the suit at once,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Grant, holding out his hand, “will stand by you. But tell me + now what you knew of this man Curtis,—his character and disposition; + it may be some clue as to what are his methods and his intentions.” + </p> + <p> + Harcourt briefly sketched 'Lige Curtis as he knew him and understood him. + It was another indication of his reserved power that the description was + so singularly clear, practical, unprejudiced, and impartial that it + impressed Grant with its truthfulness. + </p> + <p> + “I can't make him out,” he said; “you have drawn a weak, but neither a + dishonest nor malignant man. There must have been somebody behind him. Can + you think of any personal enemy?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been subjected to the usual jealousy and envy of my old neighbors, + I suppose, but nothing more. I have harmed no one knowingly.” + </p> + <p> + Grant was silent; it had flashed across him that Rice might have harbored + revenge for his father-in-law's interference in his brief matrimonial + experience. He had also suddenly recalled his conversation with Billings + on the day that he first arrived at Tasajara. It would not be strange if + this man had some intimation of the secret. He would try to find him that + evening. He rose. + </p> + <p> + “You will stay to dinner? My wife and Clementina will expect you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night; I am dining at the hotel,” said Grant, smilingly; “but I + will come in later in the evening if I may.” He paused hesitatingly for a + moment. “Have your wife and daughter ever expressed any opinion on this + matter?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Harcourt. “Mrs. Harcourt knows nothing of anything that does + not happen IN the house; Euphemia knows only the things that happen out of + it where she is visiting—and I suppose that young men prefer to talk + to her about other things than the slanders of her father. And Clementina—well, + you know how calm and superior to these things SHE is.” + </p> + <p> + “For that very reason I thought that perhaps she might be able to see them + more clearly,—but no matter! I dare say you are quite right in not + discussing them at home.” This was the fact, although Grant had not + forgotten that Harcourt had put forward his daughters as a reason for + stopping the scandal some weeks before,—a reason which, however, + seemed never to have been borne out by any apparent sensitiveness of the + girls themselves. + </p> + <p> + When Grant had left, Harcourt remained for some moments steadfastly gazing + from the window over the Tasajara plain. He had not lost his look of + concentrated power, nor his determination to fight. A struggle between + himself and the phantoms of the past had become now a necessary stimulus + for its own sake,—for the sake of his mental and physical equipoise. + He saw before him the pale, agitated, irresolute features of 'Lige Curtis,—not + the man HE had injured, but the man who had injured HIM, whose spirit was + aimlessly and wantonly—for he had never attempted to get back his + possessions in his lifetime, nor ever tried to communicate with the + possessor—striking at him in the shadow. And it was THAT man, that + pale, writhing, frightened wretch whom he had once mercifully helped! Yes, + whose LIFE he had even saved that night from exposure and delirium tremens + when he had given him the whiskey. And this life he had saved, only to + have it set in motion a conspiracy to ruin him! Who knows that 'Lige had + not purposely conceived what they had believed to be an attempt at + suicide, only to cast suspicion of murder on HIM! From which it will be + perceived that Harcourt's powers of moral reasoning had not improved in + five years, and that even the impartiality he had just shown in his + description of 'Lige to Grant had been swallowed up in this new sense of + injury. The founder of Tasajara, whose cool business logic, unfailing + foresight, and practical deductions were never at fault, was once more + childishly adrift in his moral ethics. + </p> + <p> + And there was Clementina, of whose judgment Grant had spoken so + persistently,—could she assist him? It was true, as he had said, he + had never talked to her of his affairs. In his sometimes uneasy + consciousness of her superiority he had shrunk from even revealing his + anxieties, much less his actual secret, and from anything that might + prejudice the lofty paternal attitude he had taken towards his daughters + from the beginning of his good fortune. He was never quite sure if her + acceptance of it was real; he was never entirely free from a certain + jealousy that always mingled with his pride in her superior rectitude; and + yet his feeling was distinct from the good-natured contempt he had for his + wife's loyalty, the anger and suspicion that his son's opposition had + provoked, and the half-affectionate toleration he had felt for Euphemia's + waywardness. However he would sound Clementina without betraying himself. + </p> + <p> + He was anticipated by a slight step in the passage and the pushing open of + his study door. The tall, graceful figure of the girl herself stood in the + opening. + </p> + <p> + “They tell me Mr. Grant has been here. Does he stay to dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he has an engagement at the hotel, but he will probably drop in + later. Come in, Clemmy, I want to talk to you. Shut the door and sit + down.” + </p> + <p> + She slipped in quietly, shut the door, took a seat on the sofa, softly + smoothed down her gown, and turned her graceful head and serenely composed + face towards him. Sitting thus she looked like some finely finished + painting that decorated rather than belonged to the room,—not only + distinctly alien to the flesh and blood relative before her, but to the + house, and even the local, monotonous landscape beyond the window with the + shining new shingles and chimneys that cut the new blue sky. These + singular perfections seemed to increase in Harcourt's mind the + exasperating sense of injury inflicted upon him by 'Lige's exposures. With + a daughter so incomparably gifted,—a matchless creation that was + enough in herself to ennoble that fortune which his own skill and genius + had lifted from the muddy tules of Tasajara where this 'Lige had left it,—that + SHE should be subjected to this annoyance seemed an infamy that Providence + could not allow! What was his mere venial transgression to this + exaggerated retribution? + </p> + <p> + “Clemmy, girl, I'm going to ask you a question. Listen, pet.” He had begun + with a reminiscent tenderness of the epoch of her childhood, but meeting + the unresponding maturity of her clear eyes he abandoned it. “You know, + Clementina, I have never interfered in your affairs, nor tried to + influence your friendships for anybody. Whatever people may have to say of + me they can't say that! I've always trusted you, as I would myself, to + choose your own associates; I have never regretted it, and I don't regret + it now. But I'd like to know—I have reasons to-day for asking—how + matters stand between you and Grant.” + </p> + <p> + The Parian head of Minerva on the bookcase above her did not offer the + spectator a face less free from maidenly confusion than Clementina's at + that moment. Her father had certainly expected none, but he was not + prepared for the perfect coolness of her reply. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, have I ACCEPTED him?” + </p> + <p> + “No,—well—yes.” + </p> + <p> + “No, then! Is that what he wished to see you about? It was understood that + he was not to allude again to the subject to any one.” + </p> + <p> + “He has not to ME. It was only my own idea. He had something very + different to tell me. You may not know, Clementina,” he begun cautiously, + “that I have been lately the subject of some anonymous slanders, and Grant + has taken the trouble to track them down for me. It is a calumny that goes + back as far as Sidon, and I may want your level head and good memory to + help me to refute it.” He then repeated calmly and clearly, with no trace + of the fury that had raged within him a moment before, the substance of + Grant's revelation. + </p> + <p> + The young girl listened without apparent emotion. When he had finished she + said quickly: “And what do you want me to recollect?” + </p> + <p> + The hardest part of Harcourt's task was coming. “Well, don't you remember + that I told you the day the surveyors went away—that—I had + bought this land of 'Lige Curtis some time before?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember your saying so, but”— + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you only meant that to satisfy mother.” + </p> + <p> + Daniel Harcourt felt the blood settling round his heart, but he was + constrained by an irresistible impulse to know the worst. “Well, what did + YOU think it really was?” + </p> + <p> + “I only thought that 'Lige Curtis had simply let you have it, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Harcourt breathed again. “But what for? Why should he?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—ON MY ACCOUNT.” + </p> + <p> + “On YOUR account! What in Heaven's name had YOU to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “He loved me.” There was not the slightest trace of vanity, + self-consciousness or coquetry in her quiet, fateful face, and for this + very reason Harcourt knew that she was speaking the truth. + </p> + <p> + “Loved YOU!—you, Clementina!—my daughter! Did he ever TELL you + so?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in words. He used to walk up and down on the road when I was at the + back window or in the garden, and often hung about the bank of the creek + for hours, like some animal. I don't think the others saw him, and when + they did they thought it was Parmlee for Euphemia. Even Euphemia thought + so too, and that was why she was so conceited and hard to Parmlee towards + the end. She thought it was Parmlee that night when Grant and Rice came; + but it was 'Lige Curtis who had been watching the window lights in the + rain, and who must have gone off at last to speak to you in the store. I + always let Phemie believe that it was Parmlee,—it seemed to please + her.” + </p> + <p> + There was not the least tone of mischief or superiority, or even of + patronage in her manner. It was as quiet and cruel as the fate that might + have led 'Lige to his destruction. Even her father felt a slight thrill of + awe as she paused. “Then he never really spoke to you?” he asked + hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “Only once. I was gathering swamp lilies all alone, a mile below the bend + of the creek, and he came upon me suddenly. Perhaps it was that I didn't + jump or start—I didn't see anything to jump or start at—that + he said, 'You're not frightened at me, Miss Harcourt, like the other + girls? You don't think I'm drunk or half mad—as they do?' I don't + remember exactly what I said, but it meant that whether he was drunk or + half mad or sober I didn't see any reason to be afraid of him. And then he + told me that if I was fond of swamp lilies I might have all I wanted at + his place, and for the matter of that the place too, as he was going away, + for he couldn't stand the loneliness any longer. He said that he had + nothing in common with the place and the people—no more than I had—and + that was what he had always fancied in me. I told him that if he felt in + that way about his place he ought to leave it, or sell it to some one who + cared for it, and go away. That must have been in his mind when he offered + it to you,—at least that's what I thought when you told us you had + bought it. I didn't know but what he might have told you, but you didn't + care to say it before mother.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harcourt sat gazing at her with breathless amazement. “And you—think + that—'Lige Curtis—lov—liked you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think he did—and that he does now!” + </p> + <p> + “NOW! What do you mean? The man is dead!” said Harcourt starting. + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I don't believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! Think of what you are saying.” + </p> + <p> + “I never could quite understand or feel that he was dead when everybody + said so, and now that I've heard this story I KNOW that he is living.” + </p> + <p> + “But why did he not make himself known in time to claim the property?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he did not care for it.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he care for, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Me, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “But this calumny is not like a man who loves you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is like a JEALOUS one.” + </p> + <p> + With an effort Harcourt threw off his bewildered incredulity and grasped + the situation. He would have to contend with his enemy in the flesh and + blood, but that flesh and blood would be very weak in the hands of the + impassive girl beside him. His face lightened. + </p> + <p> + The same idea might have been in Clementina's mind when she spoke again, + although her face had remained unchanged. “I do not see why YOU should + bother yourself further about it,” she said. “It is only a matter between + myself and him; you can leave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you are mistaken and he should not be living?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not mistaken. I am even certain now that I have seen him.” + </p> + <p> + “Seen him!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the girl with the first trace of animation in her face. “It + was four or five months ago when we were visiting the Briones at Monterey. + We had ridden out to the old Mission by moonlight. There were some + Mexicans lounging around the posada, and one of them attracted my + attention by the way he seemed to watch me, without revealing any more of + his face than I could see between his serape and the black silk + handkerchief that was tied around his head under his sombrero. But I knew + he was an American—and his eyes were familiar. I believe it was he.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not speak of it before?” + </p> + <p> + The look of animation died out of the girl's face. “Why should I?” she + said listlessly. “I did not know of these reports then. He was nothing + more to us. You wouldn't have cared to see him again.” She rose, smoothed + out her skirt and stood looking at her father. “There is one thing, of + course, that you'll do at once.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice had changed so oddly that he said quickly: “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Call Grant off the scent. He'll only frighten or exasperate your game, + and that's what you don't want.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was as imperious as it had been previously listless. And it was + the first time he had ever known her to use slang. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as startling as if it had fallen from the marble lips above him. + </p> + <p> + “But I've promised him that we should go together to my lawyer to-morrow, + and begin a suit against the proprietors of the 'Clarion.'” + </p> + <p> + “Do nothing of the kind. Get rid of Grant's assistance in this matter; and + see the 'Clarion' proprietor yourself. What sort of a man is he? Can you + invite him to your house?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen him; I believe he lives at San Jose. He is a wealthy + man and a large land owner there. You understand that after the first + article appeared in his paper, and I knew that he had employed your + brother—although Grant says that he had nothing to do with it and + left Fletcher on account of it—I could have no intercourse with him. + Even if I invited him he would not come.” + </p> + <p> + “He MUST come. Leave it to ME.” She stopped and resumed her former + impassive manner. “I had something to say to you too, father. Mr. Shipley + proposed to me the day we went to San Mateo.” + </p> + <p> + Her father's eyes lit with an eager sparkle. “Well,” he said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I reminded him that I had known him only a few weeks, and that I wanted + time to consider.” + </p> + <p> + “Consider! Why, Clemmy, he's one of the oldest Boston families, rich from + his father and grandfather—rich when I was a shopkeeper and your + mother”— + </p> + <p> + “I thought you liked Grant?” she said quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but if YOU have no choice nor feeling in the matter, why Shipley is + far the better man. And if any of the scandal should come to his ears”— + </p> + <p> + “So much the better that the hesitation should come from me. But if you + think it better, I can sit down here and write to him at once declining + the offer.” She moved towards the desk. + </p> + <p> + “No! No! I did not mean that,” said Harcourt quickly. “I only thought that + if he did hear anything it might be said that he had backed out.” + </p> + <p> + “His sister knows of his offer, and though she don't like it nor me, she + will not deny the fact. By the way, you remember when she was lost that + day on the road to San Mateo?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she was with your son, John Milton, all the time, and they lunched + together at Crystal Spring. It came out quite accidentally through the + hotel-keeper.” + </p> + <p> + Harcourt's brow darkened. “Did she know him before?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't say; but she does now.” + </p> + <p> + Harcourt's face was heavy with distrust. “Taking Shipley's offer and these + scandals into consideration, I don't like the look of this, Clementina.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said the girl simply. + </p> + <p> + Harcourt gazed at her keenly and with the shadow of distrust still upon + him. It seemed to be quite impossible, even with what he knew of her + calmly cold nature, that she should be equally uninfluenced by Grant or + Shipley. Had she some steadfast, lofty ideal, or perhaps some already + absorbing passion of which he knew nothing? She was not a girl to betray + it—they would only know it when it was too late. Could it be + possible that there was still something between her and 'Lige that he knew + nothing of? The thought struck a chill to his breast. She was walking + towards the door, when he recalled himself with an effort. + </p> + <p> + “If you think it advisable to see Fletcher, you might run down to San Jose + for a day or two with your mother, and call on the Ramirez. They may know + him or somebody who does. Of course if YOU meet him and casually invite + him it would be different.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a good idea,” she said quickly. “I'll do it, and speak to mother + now.” + </p> + <p> + He was struck by the change in her face and voice; they had both nervously + lightened, as oddly and distinctly as they had before seemed to grow + suddenly harsh and aggressive. She passed out of the room with girlish + brusqueness, leaving him alone with a new and vague fear in his + consciousness. + </p> + <p> + A few hours later Clementina was standing before the window of the + drawing-room that overlooked the outskirts of the town. The moonlight was + flooding the vast bluish Tasajara levels with a faint lustre, as if the + waters of the creek had once more returned to them. In the shadow of the + curtain beside her Grant was facing her with anxious eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then I must take this as your final answer, Clementina?” + </p> + <p> + “You must. And had I known of these calumnies before, had you been frank + with me even the day we went to San Mateo, my answer would have been as + final then, and you might have been spared any further suspense. I am not + blaming you, Mr. Grant; I am willing to believe that you thought it best + to conceal this from me,—even at that time when you had just pledged + yourself to find out its truth or falsehood,—yet my answer would + have been the same. So long as this stain rests on my father's name I + shall never allow that name to be coupled with yours in marriage or + engagement; nor will my pride or yours allow us to carry on a simple + friendship after this. I thank you for your offer of assistance, but I + cannot even accept that which might to others seem to allow some + contingent claim. I would rather believe that when you proposed this + inquiry and my father permitted it, you both knew that it put an end to + any other relations between us.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Clementina, you are wrong, believe me! Say that I have been foolish, + indiscreet, mad,—still the few who knew that I made these inquiries + on your father's behalf know nothing of my hopes of YOU!” + </p> + <p> + “But I do, and that is enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + Even in the hopeless preoccupation of his passion he suddenly looked at + her with something of his old critical scrutiny. But she stood there calm, + concentrated, self-possessed and upright. Yes! it was possible that the + pride of this Southwestern shopkeepers daughter was greater than his own. + </p> + <p> + “Then you banish me, Clementina?” + </p> + <p> + “It is we whom YOU have banished.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He bent for an instant over her cold hand, and then passed out into the + hall. She remained listening until the front door closed behind him. Then + she ran swiftly through the hall and up the staircase, with an alacrity + that seemed impossible to the stately goddess of a moment before. When she + had reached her bedroom and closed the door, so exuberant still and so + uncontrollable was her levity and action, that without going round the bed + which stood before her in the centre of the room, she placed her two hands + upon it and lightly vaulted sideways across it to reach the window. There + she watched the figure of Grant crossing the moonlit square. Then turning + back into the half-lit room, she ran to the small dressing-glass placed at + an angle on a toilet table against the wall. With her palms grasping her + knees she stooped down suddenly and contemplated the mirror. It showed + what no one but Clementina had ever seen,—and she herself only at + rare intervals,—the laughing eyes and soul of a self-satisfied, + material-minded, ordinary country-girl! + </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> + CHAPER X. + </h2> + <p> + But Mr. Lawrence Grant's character in certain circumstances would seem to + have as startling and inexplicable contradictions as Clementina + Harcourt's, and three days later he halted his horse at the entrance of + Los Gatos Rancho. The Home of the Cats—so called from the catamounts + which infested the locality—which had for over a century lazily + basked before one of the hottest canyons in the Coast Range, had lately + been stirred into some activity by the American, Don Diego Fletcher, who + had bought it, put up a saw-mill, and deforested the canyon. Still there + remained enough suggestion of a feline haunt about it to make Grant feel + as if he had tracked hither some stealthy enemy, in spite of the peaceful + intimation conveyed by the sign on a rough boarded shed at the wayside, + that the “Los Gatos Land and Lumber Company” held their office there. + </p> + <p> + A cigarette-smoking peon lounged before the door. Yes; Don Diego was + there, but as he had arrived from Santa Clara only last night and was + going to Colonel Ramirez that afternoon, he was engaged. Unless the + business was important—but the cool, determined manner of Grant, + even more than his words, signified that it WAS important, and the servant + led the way to Don Diego's presence. + </p> + <p> + There certainly was nothing in the appearance of this sylvan proprietor + and newspaper capitalist to justify Grant's suspicion of a surreptitious + foe. A handsome man scarcely older than himself, in spite of a wavy mass + of perfectly white hair which contrasted singularly with his brown + mustache and dark sunburned face. So disguising was the effect of these + contradictions, that he not only looked unlike anybody else, but even his + nationality seemed to be a matter of doubt. Only his eyes, light blue and + intelligent, which had a singular expression of gentleness and worry, + appeared individual to the man. His manner was cultivated and easy. He + motioned his visitor courteously to a chair. + </p> + <p> + “I was referred to you,” said Grant, almost abruptly, “as the person + responsible for a series of slanderous attacks against Mr. Daniel Harcourt + in the 'Clarion,' of which paper I believe you are the proprietor. I was + told that you declined to give the authority for your action, unless you + were forced to by legal proceedings.” + </p> + <p> + Fletcher's sensitive blue eyes rested upon Grant's with an expression of + constrained pain and pity. “I heard of your inquiries, Mr. Grant; you were + making them on behalf of this Mr. Harcourt or Harkutt”—he made the + distinction with intentional deliberation—“with a view, I believe, + to some arbitration. The case was stated to you fairly, I think; I believe + I have nothing to add to it.” + </p> + <p> + “That was your answer to the ambassador of Mr. Harcourt,” said Grant, + coldly, “and as such I delivered it to him; but I am here to-day to speak + on my own account.” + </p> + <p> + What could be seen of Mr. Fletcher's lips appeared to curl in an odd + smile. “Indeed, I thought it was—or would be—all in the + family.” + </p> + <p> + Grant's face grew more stern, and his gray eyes glittered. “You'll find my + status in this matter so far independent that I don't propose, like Mr. + Harcourt, either to begin a suit or to rest quietly under the calumny. + Briefly, Mr. Fletcher, as you or your informant knows, I was the surveyor + who revealed to Mr. Harcourt the value of the land to which he claimed a + title from your man, this Elijah or 'Lige Curtis as you call him,”—he + could not resist this imitation of his adversary's supercilious + affectation of precise nomenclature,—“and it was upon my + representation of its value as an investment that he began the + improvements which have made him wealthy. If this title was fraudulently + obtained, all the facts pertaining to it are sufficiently related to + connect me with the conspiracy.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not a little hasty in your presumption, Mr. Grant?” said + Fletcher, with unfeigned surprise. + </p> + <p> + “That is for ME to judge, Mr. Fletcher,” returned Grant, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “But the name of Professor Grant is known to all California as beyond the + breath of calumny or suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + “It is because of that fact that I propose to keep it so.” + </p> + <p> + “And may I ask in what way you wish me to assist you in so doing?” + </p> + <p> + “By promptly and publicly retracting in the 'Clarion' every word of this + slander against Harcourt.” + </p> + <p> + Fletcher looked steadfastly at the speaker. “And if I decline?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you have been long enough in California, Mr. Fletcher, to know + the alternative expected of a gentleman,” said Grant, coldly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fletcher kept his gentle blue eyes—in which surprise still + overbalanced their expression of pained concern—on Grant's face. + </p> + <p> + “But is not this more in the style of Colonel Starbottle than Professor + Grant?” he asked, with a faint smile. + </p> + <p> + Grant rose instantly with a white face. “You will have a better + opportunity of judging,” he said, “when Colonel Starbottle has the honor + of waiting upon you from me. Meantime, I thank you for reminding me of the + indiscretion into which my folly, in still believing that this thing could + be settled amicably, has led me.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed coldly and withdrew. Nevertheless, as he mounted his horse and + rode away, he felt his cheeks burning. Yet he had acted upon calm + consideration; he knew that to the ordinary Californian experience there + was nothing quixotic nor exaggerated in the attitude he had taken. Men had + quarreled and fought on less grounds; he had even half convinced himself + that he HAD been insulted, and that his own professional reputation + demanded the withdrawal of the attack on Harcourt on purely business + grounds; but he was not satisfied of the personal responsibility of + Fletcher nor of his gratuitous malignity. Nor did the man look like a tool + in the hands of some unscrupulous and hidden enemy. However, he had played + his card. If he succeeded only in provoking a duel with Fletcher, he at + least would divert the public attention from Harcourt to himself. He knew + that his superior position would throw the lesser victim in the + background. He would make the sacrifice; that was his duty as a gentleman, + even if SHE would not care to accept it as an earnest of his unselfish + love! + </p> + <p> + He had reached the point where the mountain track entered the Santa Clara + turnpike when his attention was attracted by a handsome but old-fashioned + carriage drawn by four white mules, which passed down the road before him + and turned suddenly off into a private road. But it was not this + picturesque gala equipage of some local Spanish grandee that brought a + thrill to his nerves and a flash to his eye; it was the unmistakable, + tall, elegant figure and handsome profile of Clementina, reclining in + light gauzy wraps against the back seat! It was no fanciful resemblance, + the outcome of his reverie,—there never was any one like her!—it + WAS she herself! But what was she doing here? + </p> + <p> + A vaquero cantered from the cross road where the dust of the vehicle still + hung. Grant hailed him. Ah! it was a fine carroza de cuatro mulas that he + had just passed! Si, Senor, truly; it was of Don Jose Ramirez, who lived + just under the hill. It was bringing company to the casa. + </p> + <p> + Ramirez! That was where Fletcher was going! Had Clementina known that he + was one of Fletcher's friends? Might she not be exposed to unpleasantness, + marked coolness, or even insult in that unexpected meeting? Ought she not + to be warned or prepared for it? She had banished Grant from her presence + until this stain was removed from her father's name, but could she blame + him for trying to save her from contact with her father's slanderer? No! + He turned his horse abruptly into the cross road and spurred forward in + the direction of the casa. + </p> + <p> + It was quite visible now—a low-walled, quadrangular mass of + whitewashed adobe lying like a drift on the green hillside. The carriage + and four had far preceded him, and was already half up the winding road + towards the house. Later he saw them reach the courtyard and disappear + within. He would be quite in time to speak with her before she retired to + change her dress. He would simply say that while making a professional + visit to Los Gatos Land Company office he had become aware of Fletcher's + connection with it, and accidentally of his intended visit to Ramirez. His + chance meeting with the carriage on the highway had determined his course. + </p> + <p> + As he rode into the courtyard he observed that it was also approached by + another road, evidently nearer Los Gatos, and probably the older and + shorter communication between the two ranchos. The fact was significantly + demonstrated a moment later. He had given his horse to a servant, sent in + his card to Clementina, and had dropped listlessly on one of the benches + of the gallery surrounding the patio, when a horseman rode briskly into + the opposite gateway, and dismounted with a familiar air. A waiting peon + who recognized him informed him that the Dona was engaged with a visitor, + but that they were both returning to the gallery for chocolate in a + moment. The stranger was the man he had left only an hour before—Don + Diego Fletcher! + </p> + <p> + In an instant the idiotic fatuity of his position struck him fully. His + only excuse for following Clementina had been to warn her of the coming of + this man who had just entered, and who would now meet her as quickly as + himself. For a brief moment the idea of quietly slipping out to the + corral, mounting his horse again, and flying from the rancho, crossed his + mind; but the thought that he would be running away from the man he had + just challenged, and perhaps some new hostility that had sprung up in his + heart against him, compelled him to remain. The eyes of both men met; + Fletcher's in half-wondering annoyance, Grant's in ill-concealed + antagonism. What they would have said is not known, for at that moment the + voices of Clementina and Mrs. Ramirez were heard in the passage, and they + both entered the gallery. The two men were standing together; it was + impossible to see one without the other. + </p> + <p> + And yet Grant, whose eyes were instantly directed to Clementina, thought + that she had noted neither. She remained for an instant standing in the + doorway in the same self-possessed, coldly graceful pose he remembered she + had taken on the platform at Tasajara. Her eyelids were slightly downcast, + as if she had been arrested by some sudden thought or some shy maiden + sensitiveness; in her hesitation Mrs. Ramirez passed impatiently before + her. + </p> + <p> + “Mother of God!” said that lively lady, regarding the two speechless men, + “is it an indiscretion we are making here—or are you dumb? You, Don + Diego, are loud enough when you and Don Jose are together; at least + introduce your friend.” + </p> + <p> + Grant quickly recovered himself. “I am afraid,” he said, coming forward, + “unless Miss Harcourt does, that I am a mere trespasser in your house, + Senora. I saw her pass in your carriage a few moments ago, and having a + message for her I ventured to follow her here.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Mr. Grant, a friend of my father's,” said Clementina, smiling with + equanimity, as if just awakening from a momentary abstraction, yet + apparently unconscious of Grant's imploring eyes; “but the other gentleman + I have not the pleasure of knowing.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Don Diego Fletcher, a countryman of yours; and yet I think he knows + you not.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina's face betrayed no indication of the presence of her father's + foe, and yet Grant knew that she must have recognized his name, as she + looked towards Fletcher with perfect self-possession. He was too much + engaged in watching her to take note of Fletcher's manifest disturbance, + or the evident effort with which he at last bowed to her. That this + unexpected double meeting with the daughter of the man he had wronged, and + the man who had espoused the quarrel, should be confounding to him + appeared only natural. But he was unprepared to understand the feverish + alacrity with which he accepted Dona Maria's invitation to chocolate, or + the equally animated way in which Clementina threw herself into her + hostess's Spanish levity. He knew it was an awkward situation, that must + be surmounted without a scene; he was quite prepared in the presence of + Clementina to be civil to Fletcher; but it was odd that in this feverish + exchange of courtesies and compliments HE, Grant, should feel the greater + awkwardness and be the most ill at ease. He sat down and took his part in + the conversation; he let it transpire for Clementina's benefit that he had + been to Los Gatos only on business, yet there was no opportunity for even + a significant glance, and he had the added embarrassment of seeing that + she exhibited no surprise nor seemed to attach the least importance to his + inopportune visit. In a miserable indecision he allowed himself to be + carried away by the high-flown hospitality of his Spanish hostess, and + consented to stay to an early dinner. It was part of the infelicity of + circumstance that the voluble Dona Maria—electing him as the + distinguished stranger above the resident Fletcher—monopolized him + and attached him to her side. She would do the honors of her house; she + must show him the ruins of the old Mission beside the corral; Don Diego + and Clementina would join them presently in the garden. He cast a + despairing glance at the placidly smiling Clementina, who was apparently + equally indifferent to the evident constraint and assumed ease of the man + beside her, and turned away with Mrs. Ramirez. + </p> + <p> + A silence fell upon the gallery so deep that the receding voices and + footsteps of Grant and his hostess in the long passage were distinctly + heard until they reached the end. Then Fletcher arose with an inarticulate + exclamation. Clementina instantly put her finger to her lips, glanced + around the gallery, extended her hand to him, and saying “Come,” half-led, + half-dragged him into the passage. To the right she turned and pushed open + the door of a small room that seemed a combination of boudoir and oratory, + lit by a French window opening to the garden, and flanked by a large black + and white crucifix with a prie Dieu beneath it. Closing the door behind + them she turned and faced her companion. But it was no longer the face of + the woman who had been sitting in the gallery; it was the face that had + looked back at her from the mirror at Tasajara the night that Grant had + left her—eager, flushed, material with commonplace excitement! + </p> + <p> + “'Lige Curtis,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered passionately, “Lige Curtis, whom you thought dead! + 'Lige Curtis, whom you once pitied, condoled with and despised! 'Lige + Curtis, whose lands and property have enriched you! 'Lige Curtis, who + would have shared it with you freely at the time, but whom your father + juggled and defrauded of it! 'Lige Curtis, branded by him as a drunken + outcast and suicide! 'Lige Curtis”— + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” She clapped her little hand over his mouth with a quick but + awkward schoolgirl gesture, inconceivable to any who had known her usual + languid elegance of motion, and held it there. He struggled angrily, + impatiently, reproachfully, and then, with a sudden characteristic + weakness that seemed as much of a revelation as her once hoydenish manner, + kissed it, when she let it drop. Then placing both her hands still + girlishly on her slim waist and curtseying grotesquely before him, she + said: “'Lige Curtis! Oh, yes! 'Lige Curtis, who swore to do everything for + me! 'Lige Curtis, who promised to give up liquor for me,—who was to + leave Tasajara for me! 'Lige Curtis, who was to reform, and keep his land + as a nest-egg for us both in the future, and then who sold it—and + himself—and me—to dad for a glass of whiskey! 'Lige Curtis, + who disappeared, and then let us think he was dead, only that he might + attack us out of the ambush of his grave!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but think what I have suffered all these years; not for the cursed + land—you know I never cared for that—but for YOU,—you, + Clementina,—YOU rich, admired by every one; idolized, held far above + me,—ME, the forgotten outcast, the wretched suicide—and yet + the man to whom you had once plighted your troth. Which of those greedy + fortune-hunters whom my money—my life-blood as you might have + thought it was—attracted to you, did you care to tell that you had + ever slipped out of the little garden gate at Sidon to meet that outcast! + Do you wonder that as the years passed and YOU were happy, I did not + choose to be so forgotten? Do you wonder that when YOU shut the door on + the past I managed to open it again—if only a little way—that + its light might startle you?” + </p> + <p> + Yet she did not seem startled or disturbed, and remained only looking at + him critically. + </p> + <p> + “You say that you have suffered,” she replied with a smile. “You don't + look it! Your hair is white, but it is becoming to you, and you are a + handsomer man, 'Lige Curtis, than you were when I first met you; you are + finer,” she went on, still regarding him, “stronger and healthier than you + were five years ago; you are rich and prosperous, you have everything to + make you happy, but”—here she laughed a little, held out both her + hands, taking his and holding his arms apart in a rustic, homely fashion—“but + you are still the same old 'Lige Curtis! It was like you to go off and + hide yourself in that idiotic way; it was like you to let the property + slide in that stupid, unselfish fashion; it was like you to get real mad, + and say all those mean, silly things to dad, that didn't hurt him—in + your regular looney style; for rich or poor, drunk or sober, ragged or + elegant, plain or handsome,—you're always the same 'Lige Curtis!” + </p> + <p> + In proportion as that material, practical, rustic self—which nobody + but 'Lige Curtis had ever seen—came back to her, so in proportion + the irresolute, wavering, weak and emotional vagabond of Sidon came out to + meet it. He looked at her with a vague smile; his five years of childish + resentment, albeit carried on the shoulders of a man mentally and morally + her superior, melted away. He drew her towards him, yet at the same moment + a quick suspicion returned. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what are you doing here? Has this man who has followed you any + right, any claim upon you?” + </p> + <p> + “None but what you in your folly have forced upon him! You have made him + father's ally. I don't know why he came here. I only know why I did—to + find YOU!” + </p> + <p> + “You suspected then?” + </p> + <p> + “I KNEW! Hush!” + </p> + <p> + The returning voices of Grant and of Mrs. Ramirez were heard in the + courtyard. Clementina made a warning yet girlishly mirthful gesture, again + caught his hand, drew him quickly to the French window, and slipped + through it with him into the garden, where they were quickly lost in the + shadows of a ceanothus hedge. + </p> + <p> + “They have probably met Don Jose in the orchard, and as he and Don Diego + have business together, Dona Clementina has without doubt gone to her room + and left them. For you are not very entertaining to the ladies to-day,—you + two caballeros! You have much politics together, eh?—or you have + discussed and disagreed, eh? I will look for the Senorita, and let you go, + Don Distraido!” + </p> + <p> + It is to be feared that Grant's apologies and attempts to detain her were + equally feeble,—as it seemed to him that this was the only chance he + might have of seeing Clementina except in company with Fletcher. As Mrs. + Ramirez left he lit a cigarette and listlessly walked up and down the + gallery. But Clementina did not come, neither did his hostess return. A + subdued step in the passage raised his hopes,—it was only the + grizzled major domo, to show him his room that he might prepare for + dinner. + </p> + <p> + He followed mechanically down the long passage to a second corridor. There + was a chance that he might meet Clementina, but he reached his room + without encountering any one. It was a large vaulted apartment with a + single window, a deep embrasure in the thick wall that seemed to focus + like a telescope some forgotten, sequestered part of the leafy garden. + While washing his hands, gazing absently at the green vignette framed by + the dark opening, his attention was drawn to a movement of the foliage, + stirred apparently by the rapid passage of two half-hidden figures. The + quick flash of a feminine skirt seemed to indicate the coy flight of some + romping maid of the casa, and the pursuit and struggle of her vaquero + swain. To a despairing lover even the spectacle of innocent, pastoral + happiness in others is not apt to be soothing, and Grant was turning + impatiently away when he suddenly stopped with a rigid face and quickly + approached the window. In her struggles with the unseen Corydon, the + clustering leaves seemed to have yielded at the same moment with the coy + Chloris, and parting—disclosed a stolen kiss! Grant's hand lay like + ice against the wall. For, disengaging Fletcher's arm from her waist and + freeing her skirt from the foliage, it was the calm, passionless + Clementina herself who stepped out, and moved pensively towards the casa. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER XI. + </h2> + <p> + “Readers of the 'Clarion' will have noticed that allusion has been + frequently made in these columns to certain rumors concerning the early + history of Tasajara which were supposed to affect the pioneer record of + Daniel Harcourt. It was deemed by the conductors of this journal to be + only consistent with the fearless and independent duty undertaken by the + 'Clarion' that these rumors should be fully chronicled as part of the + information required by the readers of a first-class newspaper, unbiased + by any consideration of the social position of the parties, but simply as + a matter of news. For this the 'Clarion' does not deem it necessary to + utter a word of apology. But for that editorial comment or attitude which + the proprietors felt was justified by the reliable sources of their + information they now consider it only due in honor to themselves, their + readers, and Mr. Harcourt to fully and freely apologize. A patient and + laborious investigation enables them to state that the alleged facts + published by the 'Clarion' and copied by other journals are utterly + unsupported by testimony, and the charges—although more or less + vague—which were based upon them are equally untenable. We are now + satisfied that one 'Elijah Curtis,' a former pioneer of Tasajara who + disappeared five years ago, and was supposed to be drowned, has not only + made no claim to the Tasajara property, as alleged, but has given no sign + of his equally alleged resuscitation and present existence, and that on + the minutest investigation there appears nothing either in his + disappearance, or the transfer of his property to Daniel Harcourt, that + could in any way disturb the uncontested title to Tasajara or the + unimpeachable character of its present owner. The whole story now seems to + have been the outcome of one of those stupid rural hoaxes too common in + California.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mrs. Ashwood, laying aside the 'Clarion' with a skeptical + shrug of her pretty shoulders, as she glanced up at her brother; “I + suppose this means that you are going to propose again to the young lady?” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said Jack Shipley, “that's the worst of it—and got my + answer before this came out.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” said Mrs. Ashwood, thoroughly surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! You see, Conny, as I told you three weeks ago, she said she wanted + time to consider,—that she scarcely knew me, and all that! Well, I + thought it wasn't exactly a gentleman's business to seem to stand off + after that last attack on her father, and so, last week, I went down to + San Jose, where she was staying, and begged her not to keep me in + suspense. And, by Jove! she froze me with a look, and said that with these + aspersions on her father's character, she preferred not to be under + obligations to any one.” + </p> + <p> + “And you believed her?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it all! Look here, Conny,—I wish you'd just try for once + to find out some good in that family, besides what that sentimental young + widower John Milton may have. You seem to think because they've quarreled + with HIM there isn't a virtue left among them.” + </p> + <p> + Far from seeming to offer any suggestion of feminine retaliation, Mrs. + Ashwood smiled sweetly. “My dear Jack, I have no desire to keep you from + trying your luck again with Miss Clementina, if that's what you mean, and + indeed I shouldn't be surprised if a family who felt a mesalliance as + sensitively as the Harcourts felt that affair of their son's, would be as + keenly alive to the advantages of a good match for their daughter. As to + young Mr. Harcourt, he never talked to me of the vices of his family, nor + has he lately troubled me much with the presence of his own virtues. I + haven't heard from him since we came here.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is satisfied with the government berth you got for him,” + returned her brother dryly. + </p> + <p> + “He was very grateful to Senator Flynn, who appreciates his talents, but + who offered it to him as a mere question of fitness,” replied Mrs. Ashwood + with great precision of statement. “But you don't seem to know he declined + it on account of his other work.” + </p> + <p> + “Preferred his old Bohemian ways, eh? You can't change those fellows, + Conny. They can't get over the fascinations of vagabondage. Sorry your + lady-patroness scheme didn't work. Pity you couldn't have promoted him in + the line of his profession, as the Grand Duchess of Girolstein did Fritz.” + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake, Jack, go to Clementina! You may not be successful, but + there at least the perfect gentlemanliness and good taste of your + illustrations will not be thrown away.” + </p> + <p> + “I think of going to San Francisco tomorrow, anyway,” returned Jack with + affected carelessness. “I'm getting rather bored with this wild seaside + watering place and its glitter of ocean and hopeless background of + mountain. It's nothing to me that 'there's no land nearer than Japan' out + there. It may be very healthful to the tissues, but it's weariness to the + spirit, and I don't see why we can't wait at San Francisco till the rains + send us further south, as well as here.” + </p> + <p> + He had walked to the balcony of their sitting-room in the little seaside + hotel where this conversation took place, and gazed discontentedly over + the curving bay and sandy shore before him. After a slight pause Mrs. + Ashwood stepped out beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Very likely I may go with you,” she said, with a perceptible tone of + weariness. “We will see after the post arrives.” + </p> + <p> + “By the way, there is a little package for you in my room, that came this + morning. I brought it up, but forgot to give it to you. You'll find it on + my table.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood abstractedly turned away and entered her brother's room from + the same balcony. The forgotten parcel, which looked like a roll of + manuscript, was lying on his dressing-table. She gazed attentively at the + handwriting on the wrapper and then gave a quick glance around her. A + sudden and subtle change came over her. She neither flushed nor paled, nor + did the delicate lines of expression in her face quiver or change. But as + she held the parcel in her hand her whole being seemed to undergo some + exquisite suffusion. As the medicines which the Arabian physician had + concealed in the hollow handle of the mallet permeated the languid royal + blood of Persia, so some volatile balm of youth seemed to flow in upon her + with the contact of that strange missive and transform her weary spirit. + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” she called, in a high clear voice. But Jack had already gone from + the balcony when she reached it with an elastic step and a quick youthful + swirl and rustling of her skirt. He was lighting his cigar in the garden. + </p> + <p> + “Jack,” she said, leaning half over the railing, “come back here in an + hour and we'll talk over that matter of yours again.” + </p> + <p> + Jack looked up eagerly and as if he might even come up then, but she added + quickly, “In about an hour—I must think it over,” and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + She re-entered the sitting-room, shut the door carefully and locked it, + half pulled down the blind, walking once or twice around the table on + which the parcel lay, with one eye on it like a graceful cat. Then she + suddenly sat down, took it up with a grave practical face, examined the + postmark curiously, and opened it with severe deliberation. It contained a + manuscript and a letter of four closely written pages. She glanced at the + manuscript with bright approving eyes, ran her fingers through its leaves + and then laid it carefully and somewhat ostentatiously on the table beside + her. Then, still holding the letter in her hand, she rose and glanced out + of the window at her bored brother lounging towards the beach and at the + heaving billows beyond, and returned to her seat. This apparently + important preliminary concluded, she began to read. + </p> + <p> + There were, as already stated, four blessed pages of it! All vital, + earnest, palpitating with youthful energy, preposterous in premises, + precipitate in conclusions,—yet irresistible and convincing to every + woman in their illogical sincerity. There was not a word of love in it, + yet every page breathed a wholesome adoration; there was not an epithet or + expression that a greater prude than Mrs. Ashwood would have objected to, + yet every sentence seemed to end in a caress. There was not a line of + poetry in it, and scarcely a figure or simile, and yet it was poetical. + Boyishly egotistic as it was in attitude, it seemed to be written less OF + himself than TO her; in its delicate because unconscious flattery, it made + her at once the provocation and excuse. And yet so potent was its + individuality that it required no signature. No one but John Milton + Harcourt could have written it. His personality stood out of it so + strongly that once or twice Mrs. Ashwood almost unconsciously put up her + little hand before her face with a half mischievous, half-deprecating + smile, as if the big honest eyes of its writer were upon her. + </p> + <p> + It began by an elaborate apology for declining the appointment offered him + by one of her friends, which he was bold enough to think had been prompted + by her kind heart. That was like her, but yet what she might do to any + one; and he preferred to think of her as the sweet and gentle lady who had + recognized his merit without knowing him, rather than the powerful and + gracious benefactress who wanted to reward him when she did know him. The + crown that she had all unconsciously placed upon his head that afternoon + at the little hotel at Crystal Spring was more to him than the Senator's + appointment; perhaps he was selfish, but he could not bear that she who + had given so much should believe that he could accept a lesser gift. All + this and much more! Some of it he had wanted to say to her in San + Francisco at times when they had met, but he could not find the words. But + she had given him the courage to go on and do the only thing he was fit + for, and he had resolved to stick to that, and perhaps do something once + more that might make him hear again her voice as he had heard it that day, + and again see the light that had shone in her eyes as she sat there and + read. And this was why he was sending her a manuscript. She might have + forgotten that she had told him a strange story of her cousin who had + disappeared—which she thought he might at some time work up. Here it + was. Perhaps she might not recognize it again, in the way he had written + it here; perhaps she did not really mean it when she had given him + permission to use it, but he remembered her truthful eyes and believed her—and + in any event it was hers to do with what she liked. It had been a great + pleasure for him to write it and think that she would see it; it was like + seeing her himself—that was in HIS BETTER SELF—more worthy the + companionship of a beautiful and noble woman than the poor young man she + would have helped. This was why he had not called the week before she went + away. But for all that, she had made his life less lonely, and he should + be ever grateful to her. He could never forget how she unconsciously + sympathized with him that day over the loss that had blighted his life + forever,—yet even then he did not know that she, herself, had passed + through the same suffering. But just here the stricken widow of thirty, + after a vain attempt to keep up the knitted gravity of her eyebrows, bowed + her dimpling face over the letter of the blighted widower of twenty, and + laughed so long and silently that the tears stood out like dew on her + light-brown eyelashes. + </p> + <p> + But she became presently severe again, and finished her reading of the + letter gravely. Then she folded it carefully, deposited it in a box on her + table, which she locked. After a few minutes, however, she unlocked the + box again and transferred the letter to her pocket. The serenity of her + features did not relax again, although her previous pretty prepossession + of youthful spirit was still indicated in her movements. Going into her + bedroom, she reappeared in a few minutes with a light cloak thrown over + her shoulders and a white-trimmed broad-brimmed hat. Then she rolled up + the manuscript in a paper, and called her French maid. As she stood there + awaiting her with the roll in her hand, she might have been some young + girl on her way to her music lesson. + </p> + <p> + “If my brother returns before I do, tell him to wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame is going”— + </p> + <p> + “Out,” said Mrs. Ashwood blithely, and tripped downstairs. + </p> + <p> + She made her way directly to the shore where she remembered there was a + group of rocks affording a shelter from the northwest trade winds. It was + reached at low water by a narrow ridge of sand, and here she had often + basked in the sun with her book. It was here that she now unrolled John + Milton's manuscript and read. + </p> + <p> + It was the story she had told him, but interpreted by his poetry and + adorned by his fancy until the facts as she remembered them seemed to be + no longer hers, or indeed truths at all. She had always believed her + cousin's unhappy temperament to have been the result of a moral and + physical idiosyncrasy,—she found it here to be the effect of a + lifelong and hopeless passion for herself! The ingenious John Milton had + given a poet's precocity to the youth whom she had only known as a + suspicious, moody boy, had idealized him as a sensitive but songless + Byron, had given him the added infirmity of pulmonary weakness, and a + handkerchief that in moments of great excitement, after having been + hurriedly pressed to his pale lips, was withdrawn “with a crimson stain.” + Opposed to this interesting figure—the more striking to her as she + had been hitherto haunted by the impression that her cousin during his + boyhood had been subject to facial eruption and boils—was her own + equally idealized self. Cruelly kind to her cousin and gentle with his + weaknesses while calmly ignoring their cause, leading him unconsciously + step by step in his fatal passion, he only became aware by accident that + she nourished an ideal hero in the person of a hard, proud, middle-aged + practical man of the world,—her future husband! At this picture of + the late Mr. Ashwood, who had really been an indistinctive social bon + vivant, his amiable relict grew somewhat hysterical. The discovery of her + real feelings drove the consumptive cousin into a secret, self-imposed + exile on the shores of the Pacific, where he hoped to find a grave. But + the complete and sudden change of life and scene, the balm of the wild + woods and the wholesome barbarism of nature, wrought a magical change in + his physical health and a philosophical rest in his mind. He married the + daughter of an Indian chief. Years passed, the heroine—a rich and + still young and beautiful widow—unwittingly sought the same + medicinal solitude. Here in the depth of the forest she encountered her + former playmate; the passion which he had fondly supposed was dead revived + in her presence, and for the first time she learned from his bearded lips + the secret of his passion. Alas! not SHE alone! The contiguous forest + could not be bolted out, and the Indian wife heard all. Recognizing the + situation with aboriginal directness of purpose, she committed suicide in + the fond belief that it would reunite the survivors. But in vain; the + cousins parted on the spot to meet no more. + </p> + <p> + Even Mrs. Ashwood's predilection for the youthful writer could not + overlook the fact that the denouement was by no means novel nor the + situation human, but yet it was here that she was most interested and + fascinated. The description of the forest was a description of the wood + where she had first met Harcourt; the charm of it returned, until she + almost seemed to again inhale its balsamic freshness in the pages before + her. Now, as then, her youth came back with the same longing and regret. + But more bewildering than all, it was herself that moved there, painted + with the loving hand of the narrator. For the first time she experienced + the delicious flattery of seeing herself as only a lover could see her. + The smallest detail of her costume was suggested with an accuracy that + pleasantly thrilled her feminine sense. The grace of her figure slowly + moving through the shadow, the curves of her arm and the delicacy of her + hand that held the bridle rein, the gentle glow of her softly rounded + cheek, the sweet mystery of her veiled eyes and forehead, and the escaping + gold of her lovely hair beneath her hat were all in turn masterfully + touched or tenderly suggested. And when to this was added the faint + perfume of her nearer presence—the scent she always used—the + delicate revelations of her withdrawn gauntlet, the bracelet clasping her + white wrist, and at last the thrilling contact of her soft hand on his + arm,—she put down the manuscript and blushed like a very girl. Then + she started. + </p> + <p> + A shout!—HIS voice surely!—and the sound of oars in their + rowlocks. + </p> + <p> + An instant revulsion of feeling overtook her. With a quick movement she + instantly hid the manuscript beneath her cloak and stood up erect and + indignant. Not twenty yards away, apparently advancing from the opposite + shore of the bay, was a boat. It contained only John Milton, resting on + his oars and scanning the group of rocks anxiously. His face, which was + quite strained with anxiety, suddenly flushed when he saw her, and then + recognizing the unmistakable significance of her look and attitude, paled + once more. He bent over his oars again; a few strokes brought him close to + the rock. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said hesitatingly, as he turned towards her and + laid aside his oars, “but—I thought—you were—in danger.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced quickly round her. She had forgotten the tide! The ledge + between her and the shore was already a foot under brown sea-water. Yet if + she had not thought that it would look ridiculous, she would have leaped + down even then and waded ashore. + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing,” she said coldly, with the air of one to whom the situation + was an everyday occurrence; “it's only a few steps and a slight wetting—and + my brother would have been here in a moment more.” + </p> + <p> + John Milton's frank eyes made no secret of his mortification. “I ought not + to have disturbed you, I know,” he said quickly, “I had no right. But I + was on the other shore opposite and I saw you come down here—that + is”—he blushed prodigiously—“I thought it MIGHT BE you—and + I ventured—I mean—won't you let me row you ashore?” + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be no reasonable excuse for refusing. She slipped quickly + into the boat without waiting for his helping hand, avoiding that contact + which only a moment ago she was trying to recall. + </p> + <p> + A few strokes brought them ashore. He continued his explanation with the + hopeless frankness and persistency of youth and inexperience. “I only came + here the day before yesterday. I would not have come, but Mr. Fletcher, + who has a cottage on the other shore, sent for me to offer me my old place + on the 'Clarion.' I had no idea of intruding upon your privacy by calling + here without permission.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood had resumed her conventional courtesy without however losing + her feminine desire to make her companion pay for the agitation he had + caused her. “We would have been always pleased to see you,” she said + vaguely, “and I hope, as you are here now, you will come with me to the + hotel. My brother”— + </p> + <p> + But he still retained his hold of the boat-rope without moving, and + continued, “I saw you yesterday, through the telescope, sitting in your + balcony; and later at night I think it was your shadow I saw near the blue + shaded lamp in the sitting-room by the window,—I don't mean the RED + LAMP that you have in your own room. I watched you until you put out the + blue lamp and lit the red one. I tell you this—because—because—I + thought you might be reading a manuscript I sent you. At least,” he smiled + faintly, “I LIKED to think it so.” + </p> + <p> + In her present mood this struck her only as persistent and somewhat + egotistical. But she felt herself now on ground where she could deal + firmly with him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” she said gravely. “I got it and thank you very much for it. I + intended to write to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't,” he said, looking at her fixedly. “I can see you don't like it.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” she said promptly, “I think it beautifully written, and + very ingenious in plot and situation. Of course it isn't the story I told + you—I didn't expect that, for I'm not a genius. The man is not at + all like my cousin, you know, and the woman—well really, to tell the + truth, SHE is simply inconceivable!” + </p> + <p> + “You think so?” he said gravely. He had been gazing abstractedly at some + shining brown seaweed in the water, and when he raised his eyes to hers + they seemed to have caught its color. + </p> + <p> + “Think so? I'm positive! There's no such a woman; she isn't HUMAN. But let + us walk to the hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, but I must go back now.” + </p> + <p> + “But at least let my brother thank you for taking his place—in + rescuing me. It was so thoughtful in you to put off at once when you saw I + was surrounded. I might have been in great danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't make fun of me, Mrs. Ashwood,” he said with a faint return + of his boyish smile. “You know there was no danger. I have only + interrupted you in a nap or a reverie—and I can see now that you + evidently came here to be alone.” + </p> + <p> + Holding the manuscript more closely hidden under the folds of her cloak, + she smiled enigmatically. “I think I DID, and it seems that the tide + thought so too, and acted upon it. But you will come up to the hotel with + me, surely?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am going back now.” There was a sudden firmness about the young + fellow which she had never before noticed. This was evidently the creature + who had married in spite of his family. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come back long enough to take your manuscript? I will point out + the part I refer to, and—we will talk it over.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no necessity. I wrote to you that you might keep it; it is + yours; it was written for you and none other. It is quite enough for me to + know that you were good enough to read it. But will you do one thing more + for me? Read it again! If you find anything in it the second time to + change your views—if you find”— + </p> + <p> + “I will let you know,” she said quickly. “I will write to you as I + intended.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't mean that. I meant that if you found the woman less + inconceivable and more human, don't write to me, but put your red lamp in + your window instead of the blue one. I will watch for it and see it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I will be able to explain myself much better with simple pen and + ink,” she said dryly, “and it will be much more useful to you.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his hat gravely, shoved off the boat, leaped into it, and before + she could hold out her hand was twenty feet away. She turned and ran + quickly up the rocks. When she reached the hotel, she could see the boat + already half across the bay. + </p> + <p> + Entering her sitting-room she found that her brother, tired of waiting for + her, had driven out. Taking the hidden manuscript from her cloak she + tossed it with a slight gesture of impatience on the table. Then she + summoned the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “Is there a town across the bay?” + </p> + <p> + “No! the whole mountain-side belongs to Don Diego Fletcher. He lives away + back in the coast range at Los Gatos, but he has a cottage and mill on the + beach.” + </p> + <p> + “Don Diego Fletcher—Fletcher! Is he a Spaniard then?” + </p> + <p> + “Half and half, I reckon; he's from the lower country, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he here often?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much; he has mills at Los Gatos, wheat ranches at Santa Clara, and + owns a newspaper in 'Frisco! But he's here now. There were lights in his + house last night, and his cutter lies off the point.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you get a small package and note to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; it is only a row across the bay.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Without removing her hat and cloak she sat down at the table and began a + letter to Don Diego Fletcher. She begged to inclose to him a manuscript + which she was satisfied, for the interests of its author, was better in + his hands than hers. It had been given to her by the author, Mr. J. M. + Harcourt, whom she understood was engaged on Mr. Fletcher's paper, the + “Clarion.” In fact, it had been written at HER suggestion, and from an + incident in real life of which she was cognizant. She was sorry to say + that on account of some very foolish criticism of her own as to the FACTS, + the talented young author had become so dissatisfied with it as to make it + possible that, if left to himself, this very charming and beautifully + written story would remain unpublished. As an admirer of Mr. Harcourt's + genius, and a friend of his family, she felt that such an event would be + deplorable, and she therefore begged to leave it to Mr. Fletcher's + delicacy and tact to arrange with the author for its publication. She knew + that Mr. Fletcher had only to read it to be convinced of its remarkable + literary merit, and she again would impress upon him the fact that her + playful and thoughtless criticism—which was personal and + confidential—was only based upon the circumstances that the author + had really made a more beautiful and touching story than the poor facts + which she had furnished seemed to warrant. She had only just learned the + fortunate circumstance that Mr. Fletcher was in the neighborhood of the + hotel where she was staying with her brother. + </p> + <p> + With the same practical, business-like directness, but perhaps a certain + unbusiness-like haste superadded, she rolled up the manuscript and + dispatched it with the letter. + </p> + <p> + This done, however, a slight reaction set in, and having taken off her hat + and shawl, she dropped listlessly on a chair by the window, but as + suddenly rose and took a seat in the darker part of the room. She felt + that she had done right, that highest but most depressing of human + convictions! It was entirely for his good. There was no reason why his + best interests should suffer for his folly. If anybody was to suffer it + was she. But what nonsense was she thinking! She would write to him later + when she was a little cooler,—as she had said. But then he had + distinctly told her, and very rudely too, that he didn't want her to + write. Wanted her to make SIGNALS to him,—the idiot! and probably + was even now watching her with a telescope. It was really too + preposterous! + </p> + <p> + The result was that her brother found her on his return in a somewhat + uncertain mood, and, as a counselor, variable and conflicting in judgment. + If this Clementina, who seemed to have the family qualities of obstinacy + and audacity, really cared for him, she certainly wouldn't let delicacy + stand in the way of letting him know it—and he was therefore safe to + wait a little. A few moments later, she languidly declared that she was + afraid that she was no counselor in such matters; really she was getting + too old to take any interest in that sort of thing, and she never had been + a matchmaker! By the way now, wasn't it odd that this neighbor, that rich + capitalist across the bay, should be called Fletcher, and “James Fletcher” + too, for Diego meant “James” in Spanish. Exactly the same name as poor + “Cousin Jim” who disappeared. Did he remember her old playmate Jim? But + her brother thought something else was a deuced sight more odd, namely, + that this same Don Diego Fletcher was said to be very sweet on Clementina + now, and was always in her company at the Ramirez. And that, with this + “Clarion” apology on the top of it, looked infernally queer. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood felt a sudden consternation. Here had she—Jack's sister—just + been taking Jack's probable rival into confidential correspondence! She + turned upon Jack sharply:— + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you say that before?” + </p> + <p> + “I did tell you,” he said gloomily, “but you didn't listen. But what + difference does it make to you now?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever,” said Mrs. Ashwood calmly as she walked out of the room. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless the afternoon passed wearily, and her usual ride into the + upland canyon did not reanimate her. For reasons known best to herself she + did not take her after-dinner stroll along the shore to watch the outlying + fog. At a comparatively early hour, while there was still a roseate glow + in the western sky, she appeared with grim deliberation, and the blue + lamp-shade in her hand, and placed it over the lamp which she lit and + stood on her table beside the window. This done she sat down and began to + write with bright-eyed but vicious complacency. + </p> + <p> + “But you don't want that light AND the window, Constance,” said Jack + wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ashwood could not stand the dreadful twilight. + </p> + <p> + “But take away your lamp and you'll have light enough from the sunset,” + responded Jack. + </p> + <p> + That was just what she didn't want! The light from the window was that + horrid vulgar red glow which she hated. It might be very romantic and suit + lovers like Jack, but as SHE had some work to do, she wanted the blue + shade of the lamp to correct that dreadful glare. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER XII. + </h2> + <p> + John Milton had rowed back without lifting his eyes to Mrs. Ashwood's + receding figure. He believed that he was right in declining her + invitation, although he had a miserable feeling that it entailed seeing + her for the last time. With all that he believed was his previous + experience of the affections, he was still so untutored as to be confused + as to his reasons for declining, or his right to have been shocked and + disappointed at her manner. It seemed to him sufficiently plain that he + had offended the most perfect woman he had ever known without knowing + more. The feeling he had for her was none the less powerful because, in + his great simplicity, it was vague and unformulated. And it was a part of + this strange simplicity that in his miserable loneliness his thoughts + turned unconsciously to his dead wife for sympathy and consolation. Loo + would have understood him! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fletcher, who had received him on his arrival with singular + effusiveness and cordiality, had put off their final arrangements until + after dinner, on account of pressing business. It was therefore with some + surprise that an hour before the time he was summoned to Fletcher's room. + He was still more surprised to find him sitting at his desk, from which a + number of business papers and letters had been hurriedly thrust aside to + make way for a manuscript. A single glance at it was enough to show the + unhappy John Milton that it was the one he had sent to Mrs. Ashwood. The + color flashed to his cheek and he felt a mist before his eyes. His + employer's face, on the contrary, was quite pale, and his eyes were fixed + on Harcourt with a singular intensity. His voice too, although under great + control, was hard and strange. + </p> + <p> + “Read that,” he said, handing the young man a letter. + </p> + <p> + The color again streamed into John Milton's face as he recognized the hand + of Mrs. Ashwood, and remained there while he read it. When he put it down, + however, he raised his frank eyes to Fletcher's, and said with a certain + dignity and manliness: “What she says is the truth, sir. But it is I alone + who am at fault. This manuscript is merely MY stupid idea of a very simple + story she was once kind enough to tell me when we were talking of strange + occurrences in real life, which she thought I might some time make use of + in my work. I tried to embellish it, and failed. That's all. I will take + it back,—it was written only for her.” + </p> + <p> + There was such an irresistible truthfulness and sincerity in his voice and + manner, that any idea of complicity with the sender was dismissed from + Fletcher's mind. As Harcourt, however, extended his hand for the + manuscript Fletcher interfered. + </p> + <p> + “You forget that you gave it to her, and she has sent it to me. If I don't + keep it, it can be returned to her only. Now may I ask who is this lady + who takes such an interest in your literary career? Have you known her + long? Is she a friend of your family?” + </p> + <p> + The slight sneer that accompanied his question restored the natural color + to the young man's face, but kindled his eye ominously. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said briefly. “I met her accidentally about two months ago and as + accidentally found out that she had taken an interest in one of the first + things I ever wrote for your paper. She neither knew you nor me. It was + then that she told me this story; she did not even then know who I was, + though she had met some of my family. She was very good and has generously + tried to help me.” + </p> + <p> + Fletcher's eyes remained fixed upon him. + </p> + <p> + “But this tells me only WHAT she is, not WHO she is.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you must inquire of her brother, Mr. Shipley,” said Harcourt + curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Shipley?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; he is traveling with her for his health, and they are going south + when the rains come. They are wealthy Philadelphians, I believe, and—and + she is a widow.” + </p> + <p> + Fletcher picked up her note and glanced again at the signature, “Constance + Ashwood.” There was a moment of silence, when he resumed in quite a + different voice: “It's odd I never met them nor they me.” + </p> + <p> + As he seemed to be waiting for a response, John Milton said simply: “I + suppose it's because they have not been here long, and are somewhat + reserved.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fletcher laid aside the manuscript and letter, and took up his + apparently suspended work. + </p> + <p> + “When you see this Mrs.—Mrs. Ashwood again, you might say”— + </p> + <p> + “I shall not see her again,” interrupted John Milton hastily. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fletcher shrugged his shoulders. “Very well,” he said with a peculiar + smile, “I will write to her. Now, Mr. Harcourt,” he continued with a + sudden business brevity, “if you please, we'll drop this affair and attend + to the matter for which I just summoned you. Since yesterday an important + contract for which I have been waiting is concluded, and its performance + will take me East at once. I have made arrangements that you will be left + in the literary charge of the 'Clarion.' It is only a fitting recompense + that the paper owes to you and your father,—to whom I hope to see + you presently reconciled. But we won't discuss that now! As my affairs + take me back to Los Gatos within half an hour, I am sorry I cannot + dispense my hospitality in person,—but you will dine and sleep here + to-night. Good-by. As you go out will you please send up Mr. Jackson to + me.” He nodded briefly, seemed to plunge instantly into his papers again, + and John Milton was glad to withdraw. + </p> + <p> + The shock he had felt at Mrs. Ashwood's frigid disposition of his wishes + and his manuscript had benumbed him to any enjoyment or appreciation of + the change in his fortune. He wandered out of the house and descended to + the beach in a dazed, bewildered way, seeing only the words of her letter + to Fletcher before him, and striving to grasp some other meaning from them + than their coldly practical purport. Perhaps this was her cruel revenge + for his telling her not to write to him. Could she not have divined it was + only his fear of what she might say! And now it was all over! She had + washed her hands of him with the sending of that manuscript and letter, + and he would pass out of her memory as a foolish, conceited ingrate,—perhaps + a figure as wearily irritating and stupid to her as the cousin she had + known. He mechanically lifted his eyes to the distant hotel; the glow was + still in the western sky, but the blue lamp was already shining in the + window. His cheek flushed quickly, and he turned away as if she could have + seen his face. Yes—she despised him, and THAT was his answer! + </p> + <p> + When he returned, Mr. Fletcher had gone. He dragged through a dinner with + Mr. Jackson, Fletcher's secretary, and tried to realize his good fortune + in listening to the subordinate's congratulations. “But I thought,” said + Jackson, “you had slipped up on your luck to-day, when the old man sent + for you. He was quite white, and ready to rip out about something that had + just come in. I suppose it was one of those anonymous things against your + father,—the old man's dead set against 'em now.” But John Milton + heard him vaguely, and presently excused himself for a row on the moonlit + bay. + </p> + <p> + The active exertion, with intervals of placid drifting along the + land-locked shore, somewhat soothed him. The heaving Pacific beyond was + partly hidden in a low creeping fog, but the curving bay was softly + radiant. The rocks whereon she sat that morning, the hotel where she was + now quietly reading, were outlined in black and silver. In this dangerous + contiguity it seemed to him that her presence returned,—not the + woman who had met him so coldly; who had penned those lines; the woman + from whom he was now parting forever, but the blameless ideal he had + worshiped from the first, and which he now felt could never pass out of + his life again! He recalled their long talks, their rarer rides and walks + in the city; her quick appreciation and ready sympathy; her pretty + curiosity and half-maternal consideration of his foolish youthful past; + even the playful way that she sometimes seemed to make herself younger as + if to better understand him. Lingering at times in the shadow of the + headland, he fancied he saw the delicate nervous outlines of her face near + his own again; the faint shading of her brown lashes, the soft + intelligence of her gray eyes. Drifting idly in the placid moonlight, + pulling feverishly across the swell of the channel, or lying on his oars + in the shallows of the rocks, but always following the curves of the bay, + like a bird circling around a lighthouse, it was far in the night before + he at last dragged his boat upon the sand. Then he turned to look once + more at her distant window. He would be away in the morning and he should + never see it again! It was very late, but the blue light seemed to be + still burning unalterably and inflexibly. + </p> + <p> + But even as he gazed, a change came over it. A shadow seemed to pass + before the blind; the blue shade was lifted; for an instant he could see + the colorless star-like point of the light itself show clearly. It was + over now; she was putting out the lamp. Suddenly he held his breath! A + roseate glow gradually suffused the window like a burning blush; the + curtain was drawn aside, and the red lamp-shade gleamed out surely and + steadily into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Transfigured and breathless in the moonlight, John Milton gazed on it. It + seemed to him the dawn of Love! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + The winter rains had come. But so plenteously and persistently, and with + such fateful preparation of circumstance, that the long looked for + blessing presently became a wonder, an anxiety, and at last a slowly + widening terror. Before a month had passed every mountain, stream, and + watercourse, surcharged with the melted snows of the Sierras, had become a + great tributary; every tributary a great river, until, pouring their great + volume into the engorged channels of the American and Sacramento rivers, + they overleaped their banks and became as one vast inland sea. Even to a + country already familiar with broad and striking catastrophe, the flood + was a phenomenal one. For days the sullen overflow lay in the valley of + the Sacramento, enormous, silent, currentless—except where the + surplus waters rolled through Carquinez Straits, San Francisco Bay, and + the Golden Gate, and reappeared as the vanished Sacramento River, in an + outflowing stream of fresh and turbid water fifty miles at sea. + </p> + <p> + Across the vast inland expanse, brooded over by a leaden sky, leaden rain + fell, dimpling like shot the sluggish pools of the flood; a cloudy chaos + of fallen trees, drifting barns and outhouses, wagons and agricultural + implements moved over the surface of the waters, or circled slowly around + the outskirts of forests that stood ankle deep in ooze and the current, + which in serried phalanx they resisted still. As night fell these forms + became still more vague and chaotic, and were interspersed with the + scattered lanterns and flaming torches of relief-boats, or occasionally + the high terraced gleaming windows of the great steamboats, feeling their + way along the lost channel. At times the opening of a furnace-door shot + broad bars of light across the sluggish stream and into the branches of + dripping and drift-encumbered trees; at times the looming smoke-stacks + sent out a pent-up breath of sparks that illuminated the inky chaos for a + moment, and then fell as black and dripping rain. Or perhaps a hoarse + shout from some faintly outlined hulk on either side brought a quick + response from the relief-boats, and the detaching of a canoe with a + blazing pine-knot in its bow into the outer darkness. + </p> + <p> + It was late in the afternoon when Lawrence Grant, from the deck of one of + the larger tugs, sighted what had been once the estuary of Sidon Creek. + The leader of a party of scientific observation and relief, he had kept a + tireless watch of eighteen hours, keenly noticing the work of devastation, + the changes in the channel, the prospects of abatement, and the danger + that still threatened. He had passed down the length of the submerged + Sacramento valley, through the Straits of Carquinez, and was now steaming + along the shores of the upper reaches of San Francisco Bay. Everywhere the + same scene of desolation,—vast stretches of tule land, once broken + up by cultivation and dotted with dwellings, now clearly erased on that + watery chart; long lines of symmetrical perspective, breaking the + monotonous level, showing orchards buried in the flood; Indian mounds and + natural eminences covered with cattle or hastily erected camps; half + submerged houses, whose solitary chimneys, however, still gave signs of an + undaunted life within; isolated groups of trees, with their lower branches + heavy with the unwholesome fruit of the flood, in wisps of hay and straw, + rakes and pitchforks, or pathetically sheltering some shivering and + forgotten household pet. But everywhere the same dull, expressionless, + placid tranquillity of destruction,—a horrible leveling of all + things in one bland smiling equality of surface, beneath which agony, + despair, and ruin were deeply buried and forgotten; a catastrophe without + convulsion,—a devastation voiceless, passionless, and supine. + </p> + <p> + The boat had slowed up before what seemed to be a collection of + disarranged houses with the current flowing between lines that indicated + the existence of thoroughfares and streets. Many of the lighter wooden + buildings were huddled together on the street corners with their gables to + the flow; some appeared as if they had fallen on their knees, and others + lay complacently on their sides, like the houses of a child's toy village. + An elevator still lifted itself above the other warehouses; from the + centre of an enormous square pond, once the plaza, still arose a “Liberty + pole,” or flagstaff, which now supported a swinging lantern, and in the + distance appeared the glittering dome of some public building. Grant + recognized the scene at once. It was all that was left of the invincible + youth of Tasajara! + </p> + <p> + As this was an objective point of the scheme of survey and relief for the + district, the boat was made fast to the second story of one of the + warehouses. It was now used as a general store and depot, and bore a + singular resemblance in its interior to Harcourt's grocery at Sidon. This + suggestion was the more fatefully indicated by the fact that half a dozen + men were seated around a stove in the centre, more or less given up to a + kind of philosophical and lazy enjoyment of their enforced idleness. And + when to this was added the more surprising coincidence that the party + consisted of Billings, Peters, and Wingate,—former residents of + Sidon and first citizens of Tasajara,—the resemblance was complete. + </p> + <p> + They were ruined,—but they accepted their common fate with a certain + Indian stoicism and Western sense of humor that for the time lifted them + above the vulgar complacency of their former fortunes. There was a + deep-seated, if coarse and irreverent resignation in their philosophy. At + the beginning of the calamity it had been roughly formulated by Billings + in the statement that “it wasn't anybody's fault; there was nobody to + kill, and what couldn't be reached by a Vigilance Committee there was no + use resolootin' over.” When the Reverend Doctor Pilsbury had suggested an + appeal to a Higher Power, Peters had replied, good humoredly, that “a + Creator who could fool around with them in that style was above being + interfered with by prayer.” At first the calamity had been a thing to + fight against; then it became a practical joke, the sting of which was + lost in the victims' power of endurance and assumed ignorance of its + purport. There was something almost pathetic in their attempts to + understand its peculiar humor. + </p> + <p> + “How about that Europ-e-an trip o' yours, Peters?” said Billings, + meditatively, from the depths of his chair. “Looks as if those Crowned + Heads over there would have to wait till the water goes down considerable + afore you kin trot out your wife and darters before 'em!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Peters, “it rather pints that way; and ez far ez I kin see, + Mame Billings ain't goin' to no Saratoga, neither, this year.” + </p> + <p> + “Reckon the boys won't hang about old Harcourt's Free Library to see the + girls home from lectures and singing-class much this year,” said Wingate. + “Wonder if Harcourt ever thought o' this the day he opened it, and made + that rattlin' speech o' his about the new property? Clark says everything + built on that made ground has got to go after the water falls. Rough on + Harcourt after all his other losses, eh? He oughter have closed up with + that scientific chap, Grant, and married him to Clementina while the big + boom was on”— + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Peters, indicating Grant, who had just entered quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't mind me, gentlemen,” said Grant, stepping towards the group with a + grave but perfectly collected face; “on the contrary, I am very anxious to + hear all the news of Harcourt's family. I left for New York before the + rainy season, and have only just got back.” + </p> + <p> + His speech and manner appeared to be so much in keeping with the + prevailing grim philosophy that Billings, after a glance at the others, + went on. “Ef you left afore the first rains,” said he, “you must have left + only the steamer ahead of Fletcher, when he run off with Clementina + Harcourt, and you might have come across them on their wedding trip in New + York.” + </p> + <p> + Not a muscle of Grant's face changed under their eager and cruel scrutiny. + “No, I didn't,” he returned quietly. “But why did she run away? Did the + father object to Fletcher? If I remember rightly he was rich and a good + match.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I reckon the old man hadn't quite got over the 'Clarion' abuse, + for all its eating humble-pie and taking back its yarns of him. And may be + he might have thought the engagement rather sudden. They say that she'd + only met Fletcher the day afore the engagement.” + </p> + <p> + “That be d——d,” said Peters, knocking the ashes out of his + pipe, and startling the lazy resignation of his neighbors by taking his + feet from the stove and sitting upright. “I tell ye, gentlemen, I'm sick + o' this sort o' hog-wash that's been ladled round to us. That gal + Clementina Harcourt and that feller Fletcher had met not only once, but + MANY times afore—yes! they were old friends if it comes to that, a + matter of six years ago.” + </p> + <p> + Grant's eyes were fixed eagerly on the speaker, although the others + scarcely turned their heads. + </p> + <p> + “You know, gentlemen,” said Peters, “I never took stock in this yer story + of the drownin' of 'Lige Curtis. Why? Well, if you wanter know—in my + opinion—there never was any 'Lige Curtis!” + </p> + <p> + Billings lifted his head with difficulty; Wingate turned his face to the + speaker. + </p> + <p> + “There never was a scrap o' paper ever found in his cabin with the name o' + 'Lige Curtis on it; there never was any inquiry made for 'Lige Curtis; + there never was any sorrowin' friends comin' after 'Lige Curtis. For why?—There + never was any 'Lige Curtis. The man who passed himself off in Sidon under + that name—was that man Fletcher. That's how he knew all about + Harcourt's title; that's how he got his best holt on Harcourt. And he did + it all to get Clementina Harcourt, whom the old man had refused to him in + Sidon.” + </p> + <p> + A grunt of incredulity passed around the circle. Such is the fate of + historical innovation! Only Grant listened attentively. + </p> + <p> + “Ye ought to tell that yarn to John Milton,” said Wingate ironically; + “it's about in the style o' them stories he slings in the 'Clarion.'” + </p> + <p> + “He's made a good thing outer that job. Wonder what he gets for them?” + said Peters. + </p> + <p> + It was Billings's time to rise, and, under the influence of some strong + cynical emotion, to even rise to his feet. “Gets for 'em!—GETS for + 'em! I'll tell you WHAT he gets for 'em! It beats this story o' Peters's,—it + beats the flood. It beats me! Ye know that boy, gentlemen; ye know how he + uster lie round his father's store, reading flapdoodle stories and sich! + Ye remember how I uster try to give him good examples and knock some sense + into him? Ye remember how, after his father's good luck, he spiled all his + own chances, and ran off with his father's waiter gal—all on account + o' them flapdoodle books he read? Ye remember how he sashayed round + newspaper offices in 'Frisco until he could write a flapdoodle story + himself? Ye wanter know what he gets for 'em. I'll tell you. He got an + interduction to one of them high-toned, highfalutin', 'don't-touch-me' + rich widders from Philadelfy,—that's what he gets for 'em! He got + her dead set on him and his stories, that's what he gets for 'em! He got + her to put him up with Fletcher in the 'Clarion,'—that's what he + gets for 'em. And darn my skin!—ef what they say is true, while we + hard-working men are sittin' here like drowned rats—that air John + Milton, ez never did a stitch o' live work like me yere; ez never did + anythin' but spin yarns about US ez did WORK, is now 'gittin' for 'em'—what? + Guess! Why, he's gittin' THE RICH WIDDER HERSELF and HALF A MILLION + DOLLARS WITH HER! Gentlemen! lib'ty is a good thing—but thar's some + things ye gets too much lib'ty of in this country—and that's this + yer LIB'TY OF THE PRESS!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A First Family of Tasajara, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FIRST FAMILY OF TASAJARA *** + +***** This file should be named 2723-h.htm or 2723-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/2/2723/ + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> |