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diff --git a/21633-h/21633-h.htm b/21633-h/21633-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6151128 --- /dev/null +++ b/21633-h/21633-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6654 @@ +<!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"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man of the Desert, by Grace Livingston Hill. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + .right {text-align: right;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Man of the Desert, by Grace Livingston Hill + +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: The Man of the Desert + +Author: Grace Livingston Hill + +Release Date: May 28, 2007 [EBook #21633] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN OF THE DESERT *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='bbox'> + +<h1>The Man of the Desert</h1> + + + +<h2>BY GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL</h2> + + +<div class='center'> +AUTHOR OF<br /> +MARCIA SCHUYLER, PHŒBE DEANE,<br /> +DAWN OF THE MORNING, LO, MICHAEL, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 109px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="109" height="100" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK<br /> +</div></div> +<div class='center'><br /><small>Made in the United States of America</small></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<div class='center'> +Copyright, 1914, by<br /> +FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY<br /> +<br /><br /> +New York: 158 Fifth Avenue<br /> +Chicago: 125 North Wabash Ave.<br /> +Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W.<br /> +London: 21 Paternoster Square<br /> +Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street<br /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'>I.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Prospecting</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_9'>9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>II.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Man</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_24'>24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>III.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Desert</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_43'>43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Quest</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_64'>64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>V.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Trail</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_86'>86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Camp</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_101'>101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Revelation</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_116'>116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Renunciation</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_130'>130</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IX.</td><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">For Remembrance</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_148'>148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>X.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">His Mother</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_162'>162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Refuge</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_180'>180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Qualifying for Service</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_197'>197</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Call of the Desert</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_218'>218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XIV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Home</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_232'>232</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Way of the Cross</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_253'>253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XVI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Letter</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_267'>267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>XVII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dedication</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_284'>284</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>I</h2> + +<h3>PROSPECTING</h3> + + +<p>It was morning, high and clear as Arizona counts weather, and around the +little railroad station were gathered a crowd of curious onlookers; +seven Indians, three women from nearby shacks—drawn thither by the +sight of the great private car that the night express had left on a side +track—the usual number of loungers, a swarm of children, besides the +station agent who had come out to watch proceedings.</p> + +<p>All the morning the private car had been an object of deep interest to +those who lived within sight, and that was everybody on the plateau; and +many and various had been the errands and excuses to go to the station +that perchance the occupants of that car might be seen, or a glimpse of +the interior of the moving palace; but the silken curtains had remained +drawn until after nine o'clock.</p> + +<p>Within the last half hour, however, a change had taken place in the +silent inscrutable car. The curtains had parted here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> and there, +revealing dim flitting faces, a table spread with a snowy cloth and +flowers in a vase, wild flowers they were, too, like those that grew all +along the track, just weeds. Strange that one who could afford a private +car cared for weeds in a glass on their dining-table, but then perhaps +they didn't know.</p> + +<p>A fat cook with ebony skin and white linen attire had appeared on the +rear platform beating eggs, and half whistling, half singing:</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Be my little Bumble-bee"> +<tr><td align='left'>"Be my little baby Bumble-bee—</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Buzz around, buzz around——"</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>He seemed in no wise affected or embarrassed by the natives who +gradually encircled the end of the car, and the audience grew.</p> + +<p>They could dimly see the table where the inmates of the car +were—dining?—it couldn't be breakfast at that hour surely. They heard +the discussion about horses going on amid laughter and merry +conversation, and they gathered that the car was to remain here for the +day at least while some of the party went off on a horseback trip. It +was nothing very unusual of course. Such things occasionally occurred in +that region, but not often enough to lose their interest. Besides, to +watch the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> tourists who chanced to stop in their tiny settlement was the +only way for them to learn the fashions.</p> + +<p>Not that all the watchers stood and stared around the car. No, indeed. +They made their headquarters around the station platform from whence +they took brief and comprehensive excursions down to the freight station +and back, going always on one side of the car and returning by way of +the other. Even the station agent felt the importance of the occasion, +and stood around with all the self-consciousness of an usher at a grand +wedding, considering himself master of ceremonies.</p> + +<p>"Sure! They come from the East last night. Limited dropped 'em! Going +down to prospect some mine, I reckon. They ordered horses an' a outfit, +and Shag Bunce is goin' with 'em. He got a letter 'bout a week ago +tellin' what they wanted of him. Yes, I knowed all about it. He brung +the letter to me to cipher out fer him. You know Shag ain't no great at +readin' ef he is the best judge of a mine anywheres about."</p> + +<p>Thus the station agent explained in low thrilling tones; and even the +Indians watched and grunted their interest.</p> + +<p>At eleven o'clock the horses arrived, four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> besides Shag's, and the rest +of the outfit. The onlookers regarded Shag with the mournful interest +due to the undertaker at a funeral. Shag felt it and acted accordingly. +He gave short, gruff orders to his men; called attention to straps and +buckles that every one knew were in as perfect order as they could be; +criticized the horses and his men; and every one, even the horses, bore +it with perfect composure. They were all showing off and felt the +importance of the moment.</p> + +<p>Presently the car door opened and Mr. Radcliffe came out on the platform +accompanied by his son—a handsome reckless looking fellow—his daughter +Hazel, and Mr. Hamar, a thick-set, heavy-featured man with dark hair, +jaunty black moustache and handsome black eyes. In the background stood +an erect elderly woman in tailor-made attire and with a severe +expression, Mr. Radcliffe's elder sister who was taking the trip with +them expecting to remain in California with her son; and behind her +hovered Hazel's maid. These two were not to be of the riding party, it +appeared.</p> + +<p>There was a pleasant stir while the horses were brought forward and the +riders were mounting. The spectators remained breath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>lessly unconscious +of anything save the scene being enacted before them. Their eyes +lingered with special interest on the girl of the party.</p> + +<p>Miss Radcliffe was small and graceful, with a head set on her pretty +shoulders like a flower on its stem. Moreover she was fair, so fair that +she almost dazzled the eyes of the men and women accustomed to brown +cheeks kissed by the sun and wind of the plain. There was a wild-rose +pink in her cheeks to enhance the whiteness, which made it but the more +dazzling. She had masses of golden hair wreathed round her dainty head +in a bewilderment of waves and braids. She had great dark eyes of blue +set off by long curling lashes, and delicately pencilled dark brows +which gave the eyes a pansy softness and made you feel when she looked +at you that she meant a great deal more by the look than you had at +first suspected. They were wonderful, beautiful eyes, and the little +company of idlers at the station were promptly bewitched by them. +Moreover there was a fantastic little dimple in her right cheek that +flashed into view at the same time with the gleam of pearly teeth when +she smiled. She certainly was a picture. The station looked its fill and +rejoiced in her young beauty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was garbed in a dark green riding habit, the same that she wore when +she rode attended by her groom in Central Park. It made a sensation +among the onlookers, as did the little riding cap of dark green velvet +and the pretty riding gloves. She sat her pony well, daintily, as though +she had alighted briefly, but to their eyes strangely, and not as the +women out there rode. On the whole the station saw little else but the +girl; all the others were mere accessories to the picture.</p> + +<p>They noticed indeed that the young man, whose close cropped golden +curls, and dark lashed blue eyes were so like the girl's that he could +be none other than her brother, rode beside the older man who was +presumably the father; and that the dark, handsome stranger rode away +beside the girl. Not a man of them but resented it. Not a woman of them +but regretted it.</p> + +<p>Then Shag Bunce, with a parting word to his small but complete outfit +that rode behind, put spurs to his horse, lifted his sombrero in homage +to the lady, and shot to the front of the line, his shaggy mane by which +came his name floating over his shoulders. Out into the sunshine of a +perfect day the riders went, and the group around the plat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>form stood +silently and watched until they were a speck in the distance blurring +with the sunny plain and occasional ash and cottonwood trees.</p> + +<p>"I seen the missionary go by early this mornin'," speculated the station +agent meditatively, deliberately, as though he only had a right to break +the silence. "I wonder whar he could 'a' bin goin'. He passed on t'other +side the track er I'd 'a' ast 'im. He 'peared in a turrible hurry. +Anybody sick over towards the canyon way?"</p> + +<p>"Buck's papoose heap sick!" muttered an immobile Indian, and shuffled +off the platform with a stolid face. The women heaved a sigh of +disappointment and turned to go. The show was out and they must return +to the monotony of their lives. They wondered what it would be like to +ride off like that into the sunshine with cheeks like roses and eyes +that saw nothing but pleasure ahead. What would a life like that be? +Awed, speculative, they went back to their sturdy children and their +ill-kempt houses, to sit in the sun on the door-steps and muse a while.</p> + +<p>Into the sunshine rode Hazel Radcliffe well content with the world, +herself, and her escort.</p> + +<p>Milton Hamar was good company. He was keen of wit and a past-master in +the del<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>icate art of flattery. That he was fabulously wealthy and +popular in New York society; that he was her father's friend both +socially and financially, and had been much of late in their home on +account of some vast mining enterprise in which both were interested; +and that his wife was said to be uncongenial and always interested in +other men rather than her husband, were all facts that combined to give +Hazel a pleasant, half-romantic interest in the man by her side. She had +been conscious of a sense of satisfaction and pleasant anticipation when +her father told her that he was to be of their party. His wit and +gallantry would make up for the necessity of having her Aunt Maria +along. Aunt Maria was always a damper to anything she came near. She was +the personification of propriety. She had tried to make Hazel think she +must remain in the car and rest that day instead of going off on a wild +goose chase after a mine. No lady did such things, she told her niece.</p> + +<p>Hazel's laugh rang out like the notes of a bird as the two rode slowly +down the trail, not hurrying, for there was plenty of time. They could +meet the others on their way back if they did not get to the mine so +soon, and the morning was lovely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>Milton Hamar could appreciate the beauties of nature now and then. He +called attention to the line of hills in the distance, and the sharp +steep peak of a mountain piercing the sunlight. Then skillfully he led +his speech around to his companion, and showed how lovelier than the +morning she was.</p> + +<p>He had been indulging in such delicate flattery since they first started +from New York, whenever the indefatigable aunt left them alone long +enough, but this morning there was a note of something closer and more +intimate in his words; a warmth of tenderness that implied unspeakable +joy in her beauty, such as he had never dared to use before. It +flattered her pride deliciously. It was beautiful to be young and +charming and have a man say such things with a look like that in his +eyes—eyes that had suffered, and appealed to her to pity. With her +young, innocent heart she did pity, and was glad she might solace his +sadness a little while.</p> + +<p>With consummate skill the man led her to talk of himself, his hopes in +youth, his disappointments, his bitter sadness, his heart loneliness. He +suddenly asked her to call him Milton, and the girl with rosy cheeks and +dewy eyes declared shyly that she never could, it would seem so queer, +but she finally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> compromised after much urging on "Cousin Milton."</p> + +<p>"That will do for a while," he succumbed, smiling as he looked at her +with impatient eyes. Then with growing intimacy in his tones he laid a +detaining hand upon hers that held the bridle, and the horses both +slackened their gait, though they had been far behind the rest of the +party for over an hour now.</p> + +<p>"Listen, little girl," he said, "I'm going to open my heart to you. I'm +going to tell you a secret."</p> + +<p>Hazel sat very still, half alarmed at his tone, not daring to withdraw +her hand, for she felt the occasion was momentous and she must be ready +with her sympathy as any true friend would be. Her heart swelled with +pride that it was to her he came in his trouble. Then she looked up into +the face that was bending over hers, and she saw triumph, not trouble, +in his eyes. Even then she did not understand.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked trustingly.</p> + +<p>"Dear child!" said the man of the world impressively, "I knew you would +be interested. Well, I will tell you. I have told you of my sorrow, now +I will tell you of my joy. It is this: When I return to New York I shall +be a free man. Everything is com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>plete at last. I have been granted a +divorce from Ellen, and there remain only a few technicalities to be +attended to. Then we shall be free to go our ways and do as we choose."</p> + +<p>"A divorce!" gasped Hazel appalled. "Not you—divorced!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," affirmed the happy man gaily, "I knew you'd be surprised. It's +almost too good to be true, isn't it, after all my trouble to get Ellen +to consent?"</p> + +<p>"But she—your wife—where will she go? What will she do?" Hazel looked +up at him with troubled eyes, half bewildered with the thought.</p> + +<p>She did not realize that the horses had stopped and that he still held +her hand which grasped the bridle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ellen will be married at once," he answered flippantly. "That's the +reason she's consented at last. She's going to marry Walling Stacy, you +know, and from being stubborn about it, she's quite in a hurry to make +any arrangement to fix things up now."</p> + +<p>"She's going to be married!" gasped Hazel as if she had not heard of +such things often. Somehow it had never come quite so close to her list +of friendships before and it shocked her inexpressibly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, she's going to be married at once, so you see there's no need to +think of her ever again. But why don't you ask me what I am going to +do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Hazel recalling her lack of sympathy at once. "You +startled me so. What are you going to do? You poor man—what can you do? +Oh, I am so sorry for you!" and the pansy-eyes became suffused with +tears.</p> + +<p>"No need to feel sorry for me, little one," said the exultant voice, and +he looked at her now with an expression she had never seen in his face +before. "I shall be happy as I have never dreamed of before," he said. +"I am going to be married too. I am going to marry some one who loves me +with all her heart, I am sure of that, though she has never told me so. +I am going to marry you, little sweetheart!" He stooped suddenly before +she could take in the meaning of his words, and flinging his free arm +about her pressed his lips upon hers.</p> + +<p>With a wild cry like some terrified creature Hazel tried to draw herself +away, and finding herself held fast her quick anger rose and she lifted +the hand which held the whip and blindly slashed the air about her; her +eyes closed, her heart swelling with horror and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> fear. A great repulsion +for the man whom hitherto she had regarded with deep respect surged over +her. To get away from him at once was her greatest desire. She lashed +out again with her whip, blindly, not seeing what she struck, almost +beside herself with wrath and fear.</p> + +<p>Hamar's horse reared and plunged, almost unseating his rider, and as he +struggled to keep his seat, having necessarily released the girl from +his embrace, the second cut of the whip took him stingingly across the +eyes, causing him to cry out with the pain. The horse reared again and +sent him sprawling upon the ground, his hands to his face, his senses +one blank of pain for the moment.</p> + +<p>Hazel, knowing only that she was free, followed an instinct of fear and +struck her own pony on the flank, causing the little beast to turn +sharply to right angles with the trail he had been following and dart +like a streak across the level plateau. Thereafter the girl had all she +could do to keep her seat.</p> + +<p>She had been wont to enjoy a run in the Park with her groom at safe +distance behind her. She was proud of her ability to ride, and could +take fences as well as her young brother; but a run like this across an +illimitable space, on a creature of speed like the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> wind, goaded by fear +and knowing the limitations of his rider, was a different matter. The +swift flight took her breath away, and unnerved her. She tried to hold +on to the saddle with her shaking hands, for the bridle was already +flying loose to the breeze, but her hold seemed so slight that each +moment she expected to find herself lying huddled on the plain with the +pony far in the distance.</p> + +<p>Her lips grew white and cold; her breath came short and painfully; her +eyes were strained with trying to look ahead at the constantly receding +horizon. Was there no end? Would they never come to a human habitation? +Would no one ever come to her rescue? How long could a pony stand a pace +like this? And how long could she hope to hold on to the furious flying +creature?</p> + +<p>Off to the right at last she thought she saw a building. It seemed hours +they had been flying through space. In a second they were close by it. +It was a cabin, standing alone upon the great plain with sage-brush in +patches about the door and a neat rail fence around it.</p> + +<p>She could see one window at the end, and a tiny chimney at the back. +Could it be that any one lived in such a forlorn spot?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>Summoning all her strength as they neared the spot she flung her voice +out in a wild appeal while the pony hurled on, but the wind caught the +feeble effort and flung it away into the vast spaces like a little torn +worthless fragment of sound.</p> + +<p>Tears stung their way into her wide dry eyes. The last hairpin left its +mooring and slipped down to earth. The loosened golden hair streamed +back on the wind like hands of despair wildly clutching for help, and +the jaunty green riding cap was snatched by the breeze and hung upon a +sage-bush not fifty feet from the cabin gate, but the pony rushed on +with the frightened girl still clinging to the saddle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>II</h2> + +<h3>THE MAN</h3> + + +<p>About noon of the same day the missionary halted his horse on the edge +of a great flat-topped mesa and looked away to the clear blue mountains +in the distance.</p> + +<p>John Brownleigh had been in Arizona for nearly three years, yet the +wonder of the desert had not ceased to charm him, and now as he stopped +his horse to rest, his eyes sought the vast distances stretched in every +direction, and revelled in the splendour of the scene.</p> + +<p>Those mountains at which he was gazing were more than a hundred miles +from him, and yet they stood out clear and distinct in the wonderful +air, and seemed but a short journey away.</p> + +<p>Below him were ledges of rock in marvellous colours, yellow and gray, +crimson and green piled one upon another, with the strange light of the +noonday sun playing over them and turning their colours into a blaze of +glory. Beyond was a stretch of sand, broken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> here and there by +sage-brush, greasewood, or cactus rearing its prickly spines +grotesquely.</p> + +<p>Off to the left were pink tinted cliffs and a little farther dark +cone-like buttes. On the other hand low brown and white hills stretched +away to the wonderful petrified forest, where great tracts of fallen +tree trunks and chips lay locked in glistening stone.</p> + +<p>To the south he could see the familiar water-hole, and farther the +entrance to the canyon, fringed with cedars and pines. The grandeur of +the scene impressed him anew.</p> + +<p>"Beautiful, beautiful!" he murmured, "and a grand God to have it so!" +Then a shadow of sadness passed over his face, and he spoke again aloud +as had come to be his habit in this vast loneliness.</p> + +<p>"I guess it is worth it," he said, "worth all the lonely days and +discouraging months and disappointments, just to be alone with a +wonderful Father like mine!"</p> + +<p>He had just come from a three days' trip in company with another +missionary whose station was a two days' journey by horseback from his +own, and whose cheery little home was presided over by a sweet-faced +woman, come recently from the East to share his fortunes. The delicious +dinner prepared for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> her husband and his guests, the air of comfort in +the three-roomed shack, the dainty touches that showed a woman's hand, +had filled Brownleigh with a noble envy. Not until this visit had he +realized how very much alone his life was.</p> + +<p>He was busy of course from morning till night, and his enthusiasm for +his work was even greater than when nearly three years before he had +been sent out by the Board to minister to the needs of the Indians. +Friends he had by the score. Wherever a white man or trader lived in the +region he was always welcome; and the Indians knew and loved his coming. +He had come around this way now to visit an Indian hogan where the +shadow of death was hovering over a little Indian maiden beloved of her +father. It had been a long way around and the missionary was weary with +many days in the saddle, but he was glad he had come. The little maid +had smiled to see him, and felt that the dark valley of death seemed +more to her now like one of her own flower-lit canyons that led out to a +brighter, wider day, since she had heard the message of life he brought +her.</p> + +<p>But as he looked afar over the long way he had come, and thought of the +bright little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> home where he had dined the day before, the sadness still +lingered in his face.</p> + +<p>"It would be good to have somebody like that," he said, aloud again, +"somebody to expect me, and be glad,—but then"—thoughtfully—"I +suppose there are not many girls who are willing to give up their homes +and go out to rough it as she has done. It is a hard life for a +woman—for that kind of a woman!" A pause, then, "And I wouldn't want +any other kind!"</p> + +<p>His eyes grew large with wistfulness. It was not often thus that the +cheery missionary stopped to think upon his own lot in life. His heart +was in his work, and he could turn his hand to anything. There was +always plenty to be done. Yet to-day for some inexplicable reason, for +the first time since he had really got into the work and outgrown his +first homesickness, he was hungry for companionship. He had seen a light +in the eyes of his fellow-missionary that spoke eloquently of the +comfort and joy he himself had missed and it struck deep into his heart. +He had stopped here on this mesa, with the vast panorama of the desert +spread before him, to have it out with himself.</p> + +<p>The horse breathed restfully, drooping his head and closing his eyes to +make the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> of the brief respite, and the man sat thinking, trying to +fill his soul with the beauty of the scene and crowd out the longings +that had pressed upon him. Suddenly he raised his head with a quiet +upward motion and said reverently:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Christ, you knew what this loneliness was! You were lonely too! +It is the way you went, and I will walk with you! That will be good."</p> + +<p>He sat for a moment with uplifted face towards the vast sky, his fine +strong features touched with a tender light, their sadness changing into +peace. Then with the old cheery brightness coming into his face again he +returned to the earth and its duties.</p> + +<p>"Billy, it's time we were getting on," he remarked to his horse +chummily. "Do you see that sun in the heavens? It'll get there before we +do if we don't look out, and we're due at the fort to-night if we can +possibly make it. We had too much vacation, that's about the size of it, +and we're spoiled! We're lazy, Billy! We'll have to get down to work. +Now how about it? Can we get to that water-hole in half an hour? Let's +try for it, old fellow, and then we'll have a good drink, and a bite to +eat, and maybe ten minutes for a nap before we take the short trail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +home. There's some of the corn chop left for you, Billy, so hustle up, +old boy, and get there."</p> + +<p>Billy, with an answering snort, responded to his master's words, and +carefully picked his way over boulders and rocks down to the valley +below.</p> + +<p>But within a half mile of the water-hole the young man suddenly halted +his horse and sprang from the saddle, stooping in the sand beside a tall +yucca to pick up something that gleamed like fire in the sunlight. In +all that brilliant glowing landscape a bit of brightness had caught his +eye and insistently flung itself upon his notice as worthy of +investigation. There was something about the sharp light it flung that +spoke of another world than the desert. John Brownleigh could not pass +it by. It might be only a bit of broken glass from an empty flask flung +carelessly aside, but it did not look like that. He must see.</p> + +<p>Wondering he stooped and picked it up, a bit of bright gold on the +handle of a handsome riding whip. It was not such a whip as people in +this region carried; it was dainty, costly, elegant, a lady's riding +whip! It spoke of a world of wealth and attention to expensive details, +as far removed from this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> scene as possible. Brownleigh stood still in +wonder and turned the pretty trinket over in his hand. Now how did that +whip come to be lying in a bunch of sage-brush on the desert? Jewelled, +too, and that must have given the final keen point of light to the flame +which made him stop short in the sand to pick it up. It was a single +clear stone of transparent yellow, a topaz likely, he thought, but +wonderfully alive with light, set in the end of the handle, and looking +closely he saw a handsome monogram engraved on the side, and made out +the letters H. R. But that told him nothing.</p> + +<p>With knit brows he pondered, one foot in the stirrup, the other still +upon the desert, looking at the elegant toy. Now who, <i>who</i> would be so +foolish as to bring a thing like that into the desert? There were no +lady riders anywhere about that he knew, save the major's sister at the +military station, and she was most plain in all her appointments. This +frivolous implement of horsemanship never belonged to the major's +sister. Tourists seldom came this way. What did it mean?</p> + +<p>He sprang into the saddle and shading his eyes with his hand scanned the +plain, but only the warm shimmer of sun-heated earth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> appeared. Nothing +living could be seen. What ought he to do about it? Was there any way he +might find out the owner and restore the lost property?</p> + +<p>Pondering thus, his eyes divided between the distance and the glittering +whip-handle, they came to the water-hole; and Brownleigh dismounted, his +thoughts still upon the little whip.</p> + +<p>"It's very strange, Billy. I can't make out a theory that suits me," he +mused aloud. "If any one has been riding out this way and lost it, will +they perhaps return and look for it? Yet if I leave it where I found it +the sand might drift over it at any time. And surely, in this sparsely +settled country, I shall be able to at least hear of any strangers who +might have carried such a foolish little thing. Then, too, if I leave it +where I found it some one might steal it. Well, I guess we'll take it +with us, Billy; we'll hear of the owner somewhere some time no doubt."</p> + +<p>The horse answered with a snort of satisfaction as he lifted his moist +muzzle from the edge of the water and looked contentedly about.</p> + +<p>The missionary unstrapped his saddle and flung it on the ground, +unfastening the bag of "corn chop" and spreading it conveniently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> before +his dumb companion. Then he set about gathering a few sticks from near +at hand and started a little blaze. In a few minutes the water was +bubbling cheerfully in his little folding tin cup for a cup of tea, and +a bit of bacon was frying in a diminutive skillet beside it. Corn bread +and tea and sugar came from the capacious pockets of the saddle. Billy +and his missionary made a good meal beneath the wide bright quiet of the +sky.</p> + +<p>When the corn chop was finished Billy let his long lashes droop lower +and lower, and his nose go down and down until it almost touched the +ground, dreaming of more corn chop, and happy in having his wants +supplied. But his master, stretched at full length upon the ground with +hat drawn over his eyes, could not lose himself in sleep for a second. +His thoughts were upon the jewelled whip, and by and by he reached his +hand out for it, and shoving back his hat lay watching the glinting of +lights within the precious heart of the topaz, as the sun caught and +tangled its beams in the sharp facets of the cutting. He puzzled his +mind to know how the whip came to be in the desert, and what was meant +by it. One reads life by details in that wide and lonely land. This whip +might mean something. But what?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last he dropped his hand and sitting up with his upward glance he +said aloud:</p> + +<p>"Father, if there's any reason why I ought to look for the owner, guide +me."</p> + +<p>He spoke as if the One he addressed were always present in his +consciousness, and they were on terms of the closest intimacy.</p> + +<p>He sprang up then and began putting the things together, as if the +burden of the responsibility were upon One fully able to bear it.</p> + +<p>They were soon on their way again, Billy swinging along with the full +realization of the nearness of home.</p> + +<p>The way now led towards hazy blue lines of mesas with crags and ridges +here and there. Across the valley, looking like a cloud-shadow, miles +distant lay a long black streak, the line of the gorge of the canyon. +Its dim presence seemed to grow on the missionary's thought as he drew +nearer. He had not been to that canyon for more than a month. There were +a few scattered Indians living with their families here and there in +corners where there was a little soil. The thought of them drew him now. +He must make out to go to them soon. If it were not that Billy had been +so far he would go up there this afternoon. But the horse needed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> rest +if the man did not, and there was of course no real hurry about the +matter. He would go perhaps in the morning. Meantime it would be good to +get to his own fireside once more and attend to a few letters that +should be written. He was invited to the fort that night for dinner. +There was to be some kind of a frolic, some visitors from the East. He +had said he would come if he reached home in time. He probably would, +but the idea was not attractive just now. He would rather rest and read +and go to sleep early. But then, of course he would go. Such +opportunities were none too frequent in this lonely land, though in his +present mood the gay doings at the fort did not appeal to him strongly; +besides it meant a ride of ten miles further. However, of course he +would go. He fell to musing over the whip again, and in due time he +arrived at his own home, a little one-roomed shanty with a chimney at +the back and four big windows. At the extreme end of the fenced +enclosure about the structure was a little shed for Billy, and all about +was the vast plain dotted with bushes and weeds, with its panorama of +mountain and hill, valley and gorge. It was beautiful, but it was +desolate. <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'These'">There</ins> were neighbours, a few, but they lived at magnificent +distances.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We ought to have a dog, Billy! Why don't we get a dog to welcome us +home?" said Brownleigh, slapping the horse's neck affectionately as he +sprang from the saddle; "but then a dog would go along with us, wouldn't +he, so there'd be three of us to come home instead of two, and that +wouldn't do any good. Chickens? How would that do? But the coyotes would +steal them. I guess we'll have to get along with each other, old +fellow."</p> + +<p>The horse, relieved of his saddle, gave a shake of comfort as a man +might stretch himself after a weary journey, and trotted into his shed. +Brownleigh made him comfortable and turned to go to the house.</p> + +<p>As he walked along by the fence he caught sight of a small dark object +hanging on a sage-bush a short distance from the front of his house. It +seemed to move slightly, and he stopped and watched it a second thinking +it might be some animal caught in the bush, or in hiding. It seemed to +stir again as objects watched intently often will, and springing over +the rail fence Brownleigh went to investigate. Nothing in that country +was left to uncertainty. Men liked to know what was about them.</p> + +<p>As he neared the bush, however, the object<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> took on a tangible form and +colour, and coming closer he picked it up and turned it over clumsily in +his hand. A little velvet riding cap, undoubtedly a lady's, with the +name of a famous New York costumer wrought in silk letters in the +lining. Yes, there was no question about its being a lady's cap, for a +long gleaming golden hair, with an undoubted tendency to curl, still +clung to the velvet. A sudden embarrassment filled him, as though he had +been handling too intimately another's property unawares. He raised his +eyes and shaded them with his hand to look across the landscape, if +perchance the owner might be at hand, though even as he did so he felt a +conviction that the little velvet cap belonged to the owner of the whip +which he still held in his other hand. H. R. Where was H. R., and who +could she be?</p> + +<p>For some minutes he stood thinking it out, locating the exact spot in +his memory where he had found the whip. It had not been on any regular +trail. That was strange. He stooped to see if there were any further +evidences of passers-by, but the slight breeze had softly covered all +definite marks. He was satisfied, however, after examining the ground +about for some distance either way, that there could have been but one +horse. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> was wise in the lore of the trail. By certain little things +that he saw or did not see he came to this conclusion.</p> + +<p>Just as he was turning to go back to his cabin he came to a halt again +with an exclamation of wonder, for there close at his feet, half hidden +under a bit of sage, lay a small shell comb. He stooped and picked it up +in triumph.</p> + +<p>"I declare, I have quite a collection," he said aloud. "Are there any +more? By these tokens I may be able to find her after all." And he +started with a definite purpose and searched the ground for several rods +ahead, then going back and taking a slightly different direction, he +searched again and yet again, looking back each time to get his bearings +from the direction where he had found the whip, arguing that the horse +must likely have taken a pretty straight line and gone at a rapid pace.</p> + +<p>He was rewarded at last by finding two shell hairpins, and near them a +single hoof print, that, sheltered by a heavy growth of sage, had +escaped the obliteration of the wind. This he knelt and studied +carefully, taking in all the details of size and shape and direction; +then, finding no more hairpins or combs, he carefully put his booty into +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> pocket and hurried back to the cabin, his brow knit in deep +thought.</p> + +<p>"Father, is this Thy leading?" He paused at the door and looked up. He +opened the door and stepped within. The restfulness of the place called +to him to stay.</p> + +<p>There was the wide fireplace with a fire laid all ready for the touch of +a match that would bring the pleasant blaze to dispel the loneliness of +the place. There was the easy chair, his one luxury, with its leather +cushions and reclining back; his slippers on the floor close by; the +little table with its well-trimmed student lamp, his college paper and +the one magazine that kept him in touch with the world freshly arrived +before he left for his recent trip, and still unopened. How they called +to him! Yet when he laid the whip upon the magazine the slanting ray of +sun that entered by the door caught the glory of the topaz and sent it +scintillating, and somehow the magazine lost its power to hold him.</p> + +<p>One by one he laid his trophies down beside the whip; the velvet cap, +the hairpins and the little comb, and then stood back startled with the +wonder of it and looked about his bachelor quarters.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant spot, far lovelier than its weather-stained exterior +would lead one to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> suppose. A Navajo blanket hung upon one wall above +the bed, and another enwrapped and completely covered the bed itself, +making a spot of colour in the room, and giving an air of luxury. Two +quaint rugs of Indian workmanship upon the floor, one in front of the +bed, the other before the fireplace where one's feet would rest when +sitting in the big chair, did much to hide the discrepancies of the ugly +floor. A rough set of shelves at the side of the fireplace handy to +reach from the easy chair were filled with treasures of great minds, the +books he loved well, all he could afford to bring with him, a few +commentaries, not many, an encyclopedia, a little biography, a few +classics, botany, biology, astronomy and a much worn Bible. On the wall +above was a large card catalogue of Indian words; and around the room +were some of his own pencil drawings of plants and animals.</p> + +<p>Over in the opposite end of the room from the bed was a table covered +with white oilcloth; and on the wall behind, the cupboard which held his +dishes, and his stock of provisions. It was a pleasant spot and well +ordered, for he never liked to leave his quarters in disarray lest some +one might enter during his absence, or come back with him. Be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>sides, it +was pleasanter so to return to it. A rough closet of goodly proportions +held his clothes, his trunk, and any other stores.</p> + +<p>He stood and looked about it now and then let his eyes travel back to +those small feminine articles on the little table beside him. It gave +him a strange sensation. What if they belonged there? What if the owner +of them lived there, was coming in in a minute now to meet him? How +would it seem? What would she be like? For just an instant he let +himself dream, and reaching out touched the velvet of the cap, then took +it in his hand and smoothed its silken surface. A faint perfume of +another world seemed to steal from its texture, and to linger on his +hands. He drew a breath of wonder and laid it down; then with a start he +came to himself. Suppose she did belong, and were out somewhere and he +did not know where? Suppose something had happened to her—the horse run +away, thrown her somewhere perhaps,—or she might have strayed away from +a camp and lost her way—or been frightened?</p> + +<p>These might be all foolish fantasies of a weary brain, but the man knew +he could not rest until he had at least made an attempt to find out. He +sank down in the big chair for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> a moment to think it out and closed his +eyes, making swift plans.</p> + +<p>Billy must have a chance to rest a little; a fagged horse could not +accomplish much if the journey were far and the need for haste. He could +not go for an hour yet. And there would be preparations to make. He must +repack the saddle-bags with feed for Billy, food for himself and a +possible stranger, restoratives, and a simple remedy or two in case of +accident. These were articles he always took with him on long journeys. +He considered taking his camping tent but that would mean the wagon, and +they could not go so rapidly with that. He must not load Billy heavily, +after the miles he had already come. But he could take a bit of canvas +strapped to the saddle, and a small blanket. Of course it might be but a +wild goose chase after all—yet he could not let his impression go +unheeded.</p> + +<p>Then there was the fort. In case he found the lady and restored her +property in time he might be able to reach the fort by evening. He must +take that into consideration also.</p> + +<p>With alacrity he arose and went about his preparations, soon having his +small baggage in array. His own toilet came next. A bath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> and fresh +clothing; then, clean shaven and ready, all but his coat, he flung +himself upon his bed for ten minutes of absolute relaxation, after which +he felt himself quite fit for the expedition. Springing up he put on +coat and hat, gathered up with reverent touch the bits of things he had +found, locked his cabin and went out to Billy, a lump of sugar in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Billy, old fellow, we're under orders to march again," he said +apologetically, and Billy answered with a neigh of pleasure, submitting +to the saddle as though he were quite ready for anything required of +him.</p> + +<p>"Now, Father," said the missionary with his upward look, "show us the +way."</p> + +<p>So, taking the direction from the hoof print in the sand, Billy and his +master sped away once more into the westering light of the desert +towards the long black shadowed entrance of the canyon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>III</h2> + +<h3>THE DESERT</h3> + + +<p>Hazel, as she was borne along, her lovely hair streaming in the wind and +lashing her across the face and eyes now and again, breath coming +painfully, eyes smarting, fingers aching in the vise-like hold she was +compelled to keep upon the saddle, began to wonder just how long she +could hold out. <ins title="Transcriber's Note: this word unclear in original">It</ins> seemed to her it was a matter of minutes only when +she must let go and be whirled into space while the tempestuous steed +sped on and left her.</p> + +<p>Nothing like this motion had ever come into her experience before. She +had been run away with once, but that was like a cradle to this tornado +of motion. She had been frightened before, but never like this. The +blood pounded in her head and eyes until it seemed it would burst forth, +and now and again the surging of it through her ears gave the sensation +of drowning, yet on and on she went. It was horrible to have no bridle, +and nothing to say about where she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> should go, no chance to control her +horse. It was like being on an express train with the engineer dead in +his cab and no way to get to the brakes. They must stop some time and +what then? Death seemed inevitable, and yet as the mad rush continued +she almost wished it might come and end the horror of this ride.</p> + +<p>It seemed hours before she began to realize that the horse was no longer +going at quite such a breakneck speed, or else she was growing +accustomed to the motion and getting her breath, she could not quite be +sure which. But little by little she perceived that the mad flying had +settled into a long lope. The pony evidently had no intention of +stopping and it was plain that he had some distinct place in mind to +which he was going as straight and determinedly as any human being ever +laid out a course and forged ahead in it. There was that about his whole +beastly contour that showed it was perfectly useless to try to deter him +from it or to turn him aside.</p> + +<p>When her breath came less painfully, Hazel made a fitful little attempt +to drop a quiet word of reason into his ear.</p> + +<p>"Nice pony, nice, good pony——!" she soothed, but the wind caught her +voice and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> flung it aside as it had flung her cap a few moments before, +and the pony only laid his ears back and fled stolidly on.</p> + +<p>She gathered her forces again.</p> + +<p>"Nice pony! Whoa, sir!" she cried, a little louder than the last time +and trying to make her voice sound firm and commanding.</p> + +<p>But the pony had no intention of "whoa-ing," and though she repeated the +command many times, her voice growing each time more firm and normal, he +only showed the whites of his eyes at her and continued doggedly on his +way.</p> + +<p>She saw it was useless; and the tears, usually with her under fine +control, came streaming down her white cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Pony, good horse, <i>dear</i> pony, won't you stop!" she cried and her words +ended with a sob. But still the pony kept on.</p> + +<p>The desert fled about her yet seemed to grow no shorter ahead, and the +dark line of cloud mystery, with the towering mountains beyond, were no +nearer than when she first started. It seemed much like riding on a +rocking-horse, one never got anywhere, only no rocking-horse flew at +such a speed.</p> + +<p>Yet she realized now that the pace was much modified from what it had +been at first, <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'nd'">and</ins> the pony's motion was not hard. If she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> had not been +so stiff and sore in every joint and muscle with the terrible tension +she had kept up the riding would not have been at all bad. But she was +conscious of most terrible weariness, a longing to drop down on the sand +of the desert and rest, not caring whether she ever went on again or +not. She had never felt such terrible weariness in her life.</p> + +<p>She could hold on now with one hand, and relax the muscles of the other +a little. She tried with one hand presently to do something with that +sweeping pennant of hair that lashed her in the face so unexpectedly now +and then, but could only succeed in twisting it about her neck and +tucking the ends into the neck of her riding habit; and from this frail +binding it soon slipped free again.</p> + +<p>She was conscious of the heat of the sun on her bare head, the smarting +of her eyes. The pain in her chest was subsiding, and she could breathe +freely again, but her heart felt tired, so tired, and she wanted to lie +down and cry. Would she never get anywhere and be helped?</p> + +<p>How soon would her father and brother miss her and come after her? When +she dared she looked timidly behind, and then again more lingeringly, +but there was noth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>ing to be seen but the same awful stretch of distance +with mountains of bright colour in the boundaries everywhere; not a +living thing but herself and the pony to be seen. It was awful. +Somewhere between herself and the mountains behind was the place she had +started from, but the bright sun shone steadily, hotly down and +shimmered back again from the bright earth, and nothing broke the awful +repose of the lonely space. It was as if she had suddenly been caught up +and flung out into a world where was no other living being.</p> + +<p>Why did they not come after her? Surely, surely, pretty soon she would +see them coming. They would spur their horses on when they found she had +been run away with. Her father and brother would not leave her long in +this horrible plight.</p> + +<p>Then it occurred to her that her father and brother had been for some +time out of sight ahead before she began her race. They would not know +she was gone, at once; but of course Mr. Hamar would do something. He +would not leave her helpless. The habit of years of trusting him assured +her of that. For the instant she had forgotten the cause of her flight. +Then suddenly she remembered it with sickening thought. He who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> had been +to her a brave fine hero, suffering daily through the carelessness of a +wife who did not understand him, had stepped down from his pedestal and +become the lowest of the low. He had dared to kiss her! He had said he +would marry her—he,—a married man! Her whole soul revolted against him +again, and now she was glad she had run away—glad the horse had taken +her so far—glad she had shown him how terrible the whole thing looked +to her. She was even glad that her father and brother were far away too, +for the present, until she should adjust herself to life once more. How +could she have faced them after what happened? How could she ever live +in the same world with that man again,—that fallen hero? How could she +ever have thought so much of him? She had almost worshipped him, and had +been so pleased when he had seemed to enjoy her company, and +complimented her by telling her she had whiled away a weary hour for +him! And he? He had been meaning—<i>this</i>—all the time! He had looked at +her with that thought in his mind! Oh—awful degradation!</p> + +<p>There was something so revolting in the memory of his voice and face as +he had told her that she closed her eyes and shuddered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> as she recalled +it, and once more the tears went coursing down her cheeks and she sobbed +aloud, piteously, her head bowing lower and lower over the pony's neck, +her bright hair falling down about her shoulders and beating against the +animal's breast and knees as he ran, her stiffened fingers clutching his +mane to keep her balance, her whole weary little form drooping over his +neck in a growing exhaustion, her entire being swept by alternate waves +of anger, revulsion and fear.</p> + +<p>Perhaps all this had its effect on the beast; perhaps somewhere in his +make-up there lay a spot, call it instinct or what you please, that +vibrated in response to the distress of the human creature he carried. +Perhaps the fact that she was in trouble drew his sympathy, wicked +little willful imp though he usually was. Certain it is that he began to +slacken his pace decidedly, until at last he was walking, and finally +stopped short and turned his head about with a troubled neigh as if to +ask her what was the matter.</p> + +<p>The sudden cessation of the motion almost threw her from her seat; and +with new fear gripping her heart she clutched the pony's mane the +tighter and looked about her trembling. She was conscious more than +anything else of the vast spaces about her in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> every direction, of the +loneliness of the spot, and her own desolate condition. She had wanted +the horse to stop and let her get down to solid ground, and now that he +had done so and she might dismount a great horror filled her and she +dared not. But with the lessening of the need for keeping up the tense +strain of nerve and muscle, she suddenly began to feel that she could +not sit up any longer, that she must lie down, let go this awful strain, +stop this uncontrollable trembling which was quivering all over her +body.</p> + +<p>The pony, too, seemed wondering, impatient that she did not dismount at +once. He turned his nose towards her again with a questioning snuff and +snort, and showed the wicked whites of his eyes in wild perplexity. Then +a panic seized her. What if he should start to run again? She would +surely be thrown this time, for her strength was almost gone. She must +get down and in some way gain possession of the bridle. With the bridle +she might perhaps hope to guide his movements, and make further wild +riding impossible.</p> + +<p>Slowly, painfully, guardedly, she took her foot from the stirrup and +slipped to the ground. Her cramped feet refused to hold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> her weight for +the moment and she tottered and went into a little heap on the ground. +The pony, feeling his duty for the present done, sidled away from her +and began cropping the grass hungrily.</p> + +<p>The girl sank down wearily at full length upon the ground and for a +moment it seemed to her she could never rise again. She was too weary to +lift her hand or to move the foot that was twisted under her into a more +comfortable position, too weary to even think. Then suddenly the sound +of the animal moving steadily away from her roused her to the necessity +of securing him. If he should get away in this wide desolation she would +be helpless indeed.</p> + +<p>She gathered her flagging energy and got painfully upon her feet. The +horse was nearly a rod away, and moving slowly, steadily, as he ate, +with now and then a restless lifting of his head to look off into the +distance and take a few determined steps before he stopped for another +bite. That horse had something on his mind and was going straight +towards it. She felt that he cared little what became of her. She must +look out for herself. This was something she had never had to do before; +but the instinct came with the need.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>Slowly, tremblingly, feeling her weakness, she stole towards him, a +bunch of grass in her hand she had plucked as she came, holding it +obviously as she had fed a lump of sugar or an apple to her finely +groomed mare in New York. But the grass she held was like all the grass +about him, and the pony had not been raised a pet. He tossed his nose +energetically and scornfully as she drew near and hastened on a pace or +two.</p> + +<p>Cautiously she came on again talking to him gently, pleadingly, +complimentarily: "Nice good horsey! Pretty pony so he was!" But he only +edged away again.</p> + +<p>And so they went on for some little way until Hazel almost despaired of +catching him at all, and was becoming more and more aware of the +vastness of the universe about her, and the smallness of her own being.</p> + +<p>At last, however, her fingers touched the bridle, she felt the pony's +quick jerk, strained every muscle to hold on, and found she had +conquered. He was in her hands. For how long was a question, for he was +strong enough to walk away and drag her by the bridle perhaps, and she +knew little about tricks of management. Moreover her muscles were so +flabby and sore with the long ride that she was ill-fitted to cope with +the wise and wicked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> little beast. She dreaded to get upon his back +again, and doubted if she could if she tried, but it seemed the only way +to get anywhere, or to keep company with the pony, for she could not +hope to detain him by mere physical force if he decided otherwise.</p> + +<p>She stood beside him for a moment, looking about her over the wide +distance. Everything looked alike, and different from anything she had +ever seen before. She must certainly get on that pony's back, for her +fear of the desert became constantly greater. It was almost as if it +would snatch her away in a moment more if she stayed there longer, and +carry her into vaster realms of space where her soul would be lost in +infinitude. She had never been possessed by any such feeling before and +it frightened her unreasoningly.</p> + +<p>Turning to the pony, she measured the space from the ground to the queer +saddle and wondered how people mounted such things without a groom. When +she had mounted that morning it had been Milton Hamar's strong arm that +swung her into the saddle, and his hand that held her foot for the +instant of her spring. The memory of it now sent a shudder of dislike +over her whole body. If she had known, he never should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> have touched +her! The blood mounted uncomfortably into her tired face, and made her +conscious of the heat of the day, and of a burning thirst. She must go +on and get to some water somewhere. She could not stand this much +longer.</p> + +<p>Carefully securing the bridle over her arm she reached up and took hold +of the saddle, doubtfully at first, and then desperately; tried to reach +the stirrup with one foot, failed and tried again; and then wildly +struggling, jumping, kicking, she vainly sought to climb back to the +saddle. But the pony was not accustomed to such a demonstration at +mounting and he strongly objected. Tossing his head he reared and dashed +off, almost throwing the girl to the ground and frightening her +terribly.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless the desperation of her situation gave her strength for a +fresh trial, and she struggled up again, and almost gained her seat, +when the pony began a series of circles which threw her down and made +her dizzy with trying to keep up with him.</p> + +<p>Thus they played the desperate game for half an hour more. Twice the +girl lost the bridle and had to get it again by stealthy wiles, and once +she was almost on the point of giving up, so utterly exhausted was she.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the pony was thirsty too, and he must have decided that the quickest +way to water would be to let her mount; for finally with lifted head he +stood stock still and let her struggle up his side; and at last, +well-nigh falling from sheer weariness, she sat astonished that she had +accomplished it. She was on his back, and she would never dare to get +down again, she thought, until she got somewhere to safety. But now the +animal, his courage renewed by the bite he had taken, started snorting +off at a rapid pace once more, very nearly upsetting his rider at the +start, and almost losing her the bridle once more. She sat trembling, +and gripping bridle and saddle for some time, having enough to do to +keep her seat without trying to direct her bearer, and then she saw +before her a sudden descent, steep but not very long, and at its bottom +a great puddle of dirty water. The pony paused only an instant on the +brink and then began the descent. The girl cried out with fear, but +managed to keep her seat, and the impatient animal was soon ankle deep +in the water drinking long and blissfully.</p> + +<p>Hazel sat looking in dismay about her. The water-hole seemed to be +entirely surrounded by steep banks like that they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> descended, and +there was no way out except to return. Could the horse climb up with her +on his back? And could she keep her seat? She grew cold with fear at the +thought, for all her riding experience had been on the level, and she +had become more and more conscious of her flagging strength.</p> + +<p>Besides, the growing thirst was becoming awful. Oh, for just one drop of +that water that the pony was enjoying! Black and dirty as it was she +felt she could drink it. But it was out of her reach and she dared not +get down. Suddenly a thought came to her. She would wet her handkerchief +and moisten her lips with that. If she stooped over quite carefully she +might be able to let it down far enough to touch the water.</p> + +<p>She pulled the small bit of linen from the tiny pocket of her habit and +the pony, as if to help her, waded into the water farther until her +skirt almost touched it. Now she found that by putting her arm about the +pony's neck she could dip most of her handkerchief in the water, and +dirty as it was it was most refreshing to bathe her face and hands and +wrists and moisten her lips.</p> + +<p>But the pony when he had his fill had no mind to tarry, and with a +splash, a plunge and a wallow that gave the girl an unex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>pected shower +bath, he picked his way out of the hole and up the rocky side of the +descent, while she clung frightened to the saddle and wondered if she +could possibly hang on until they were up on the mesa again. The dainty +handkerchief dropped in the flight floated pitifully on the muddy water, +another bit of comfort left behind.</p> + +<p>But when they were up and away again, what with the fright, and the fact +that they had come out of the hole on the opposite side from that which +they had entered it, the girl had lost all sense of direction, and +everywhere stretched away one vast emptiness edged with mountains that +stood out clear, cold and unfriendly.</p> + +<p>The whole atmosphere of the earth seemed to have changed while they were +down at the drinking hole, for now the shadows were long and had almost +a menacing attitude as they crept along or leaped sideways after the +travellers. Hazel noticed with a startled glance at the sky that the sun +was low and would soon be down. And that of course where the sun hung +like a great burning opal must be the west, but that told her nothing, +for the sun had been high in the heavens when they had started, and she +had taken no note of direction. East, west, north<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> or south were all one +to her in her happy care-free life that she had hitherto led. She tried +to puzzle it out and remember which way they had turned from the +railroad but grew more bewildered, and the brilliant display in the west +flamed alarmingly as she realized that night was coming on and she was +lost on a great desert with only a wild tired little pony for company, +hungry and thirsty and weary beyond anything she had ever dreamed +before.</p> + +<p>They had been going down into a broad valley for some little time, which +made the night seem even nearer. Hazel would have turned her horse back +and tried to retrace her steps, but that he would not, for try as she +might, and turn him as she would he circled about and soon was in the +same course again, so that now the tired hands could only hold the reins +stiffly and submit to be carried where the pony willed. It was quite +evident he had a destination in view, and knew the way thereto. Hazel +had read of the instinct of animals. She began to hope that he would +presently bring her to a human habitation where she would find help to +get to her father once more.</p> + +<p>But suddenly even the glory of the dying sun was lost as the horse +entered the dimness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> of the canyon opening, whose high walls of red +stone, rising solemnly on either hand, were serrated here and there with +long transverse lines of grasses and tree-ferns growing in the crevices, +and higher up appeared the black openings of caves mysterious and +fearsome in the twilight gloom. The way ahead loomed darkly. Somewhere +from out the memories of her childhood came a phrase from the +church-service to which she had never given conscious attention, but +which flashed vividly to mind now: "Though I walk through the valley of +the shadow—the Valley of the Shadow!" Surely this must be it. She +wished she could remember the rest of it. What could it have meant? She +shivered visibly, and looked about her with wild eyes.</p> + +<p>The cottonwoods and oaks grew thickly at the base of the cliffs, almost +concealing them sometimes, and above the walls rose dark and towering. +The way was rough and slippery, filled with great boulders and rocks, +around which the pony picked his way without regard to the branches of +trees that swept her face and caught in her long hair as they went by.</p> + +<p>Vainly she strove to guide him back, but he turned only to whirl again, +determinedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> Somewhere in the deep gloom ahead he had a destination +and no mere girl was to deter him from reaching it as soon as possible. +It was plain to his horse-mind that his rider did not know what she +wanted, and he did, so there were no two ways about it. He intended to +go back to his old master as straight and as fast as he could get there. +This canyon was the shortest cut and through this canyon he meant to +walk whether she liked it or not.</p> + +<p>Further and further into the gloom they penetrated, and the girl, +frenzied with fear, cried out with the wild hope that some one might be +near and come to her rescue. But the gloomy aisle of the canyon caught +up her voice and echoed it far and high, until it came back to her in a +volume of sepulchral sound that filled her with a nameless dread and +made her fear to open her lips again. It was as if she had by her cry +awakened the evil spirit who inhabited the canyon and set it searching +for the intruder. "Help! Help!" How the words rolled and returned upon +her trembling senses until she quaked and quivered with their echoes!</p> + +<p>On went the pony into the deepening shadows, and each moment the +darkness shut down more impenetrably, until the girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> could only close +her eyes, lower her head as much as possible to escape the branches—and +pray.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, from above where the distant sky gave a line of light and +a single star had appeared to pierce the dusk like a great jewel on a +lady's gown, there arose a sound; blood-curdling and hideous, high, +hollow, far-echoing, chilling her soul with horror and causing her heart +to stand still with fear. She had heard it once before, a night or two +ago, when their train had stopped in a wide desert for water or repairs +or something and the porter of the car had told her it was coyotes. It +had been distant then, and weird and interesting to think of being so +near real live wild animals. She had peered from the safety of her berth +behind the silken curtains and fancied she saw shadowy forms steal over +the plain under the moonlight. But it was a very different thing to hear +the sound now, out alone among their haunts, with no weapon and none to +protect her. The awfulness of her situation almost took away her senses.</p> + +<p>Still she held to the saddle, weak and trembling, expecting every minute +to be her last; and the horrid howling of the coyotes continued.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>Down below the trail somewhere she could hear the soft trickling of +water with maddening distinctness now and then. Oh, if she could but +quench this terrible thirst! The pony was somewhat refreshed with his +grass and his drink of water, but the girl, whose life up to this day +had never known a want unsatisfied, was faint with hunger and burning +with thirst, and this unaccustomed demand upon her strength was fast +bringing it to its limit.</p> + +<p>The darkness in the canyon grew deeper, and more stars clustered out +overhead; but far, so very far away! The coyotes seemed just a shadow +removed all about and above. Her senses were swimming. She could not be +sure just where they were. The horse slipped and stumbled on in the +darkness, and she forgot to try to turn him from his purpose.</p> + +<p>By and by she grew conscious that the way was leading upward again. They +were scrambling over rough places, large rocks in the way, trees growing +close to the trail, and the pony seemed not to be able to avoid them, or +perhaps he didn't care. The howling of the coyotes was growing clearer +every minute but somehow her fear of them was deadened, as her fear of +all else. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> lying low upon the pony, clinging to his neck, too +faint to cry out, too weak to stop the tears that slowly wet his mane. +Then suddenly she was caught in the embrace of a low hanging branch, her +hair tangled about its roughness. The pony struggled to gain his +uncertain footing, the branch held her fast and the pony scrambled on, +leaving his helpless rider behind him in a little huddled heap upon the +rocky trail, swept from the saddle by the tough old branch.</p> + +<p>The pony stopped a moment upon a bit of shelving rock he had with +difficulty gained, and looked back with a troubled snort, but the +huddled heap in the darkness below him gave forth no sign of life, and +after another snort and a half neigh of warning the pony turned and +scrambled on, up and up till he gained the mesa above.</p> + +<p>The late moon rose and hunted its way through the canyon till it found +the gold of her hair spread about on the rocky way, and touched her +sweet unconscious face with the light of cold beauty; the coyotes howled +on in solemn chorus, and still the little figure lay quiet and +unconscious of her situation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IV</h2> + +<h3>THE QUEST</h3> + + +<p>John Brownleigh reached the water-hole at sunset, and while he waited +for his horse to drink he meditated on what he would do next. If he +intended to go to the fort for dinner he should turn at once sharply to +the right and ride hard, unless he was willing to be late. The lady at +the fort liked to have her guests on hand promptly, he knew.</p> + +<p>The sun was down. It had left long splashes of crimson and gold in the +west, and their reflection was shimmering over the muddy water below him +so that Billy looked as if he quaffed the richest wine from a golden +cup, as he satisfied his thirst contentedly.</p> + +<p>But as the missionary watched the painted water and tried to decide his +course, suddenly his eye caught a bit of white something floating, half +clinging to a twig at the edge of the water, a bit of thin +transparentness, with delicate lacy edge. It startled him in that desert +place much as the jewel in its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> golden setting in the sand had startled +him that morning.</p> + +<p>With an exclamation of surprise he stooped over, picked up the little +wet handkerchief and held it out—dainty, white and fine, and in spite +of its wet condition sending forth its violet breath to the senses of a +man who had been in the wilds of the desert for three years. It spoke of +refinement and culture and a world he had left behind him in the East.</p> + +<p>There was a tiny letter embroidered in the corner, but already the light +was growing too dim to read it, and though he held it up and looked +through it and felt the embroidery with his finger-tip he could not be +sure that it was either of the letters that had been engraved on the +whip.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the little white messenger determined his course. He +searched the edge of the water-hole for hoof prints as well as the dying +light would reveal, then mounted Billy with decision at once and took up +his quest where he had almost abandoned it. He was convinced that a lady +was out alone in the desert somewhere.</p> + +<p>It was long past midnight when Billy and the missionary came upon the +pony, high on the mesa, grazing. The animal had evidently felt the need +for food and rest before pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>ceeding further, and was perhaps a little +uneasy about that huddled form in the darkness he had left.</p> + +<p>Billy and the pony were soon hobbled and left to feed together while the +missionary, all thought of his own need of rest forgotten, began a +systematic search for the missing rider. He first carefully examined the +pony and saddle. The saddle somehow reminded him of Shag Bunce, but the +pony was a stranger to him; neither could he make out the letter of the +brand in the pale moonlight. However, it might be a new animal, just +purchased and not yet branded—or there might be a thousand +explanations. The thought of Shag Bunce reminded him of the handsome +private car he had seen upon the track that morning. But even if a party +had gone out to ride how would one of them get separated? Surely no lady +would venture over the desert alone, not a stranger at any rate.</p> + +<p>Still in the silver and black of the shadowed night he searched on, and +not until the rosy light of dawning began to flush and grow in the east +did he come to stand at the top of the canyon where he could look down +and see the girl, her green riding habit blending darkly with the dark +forms of the trees still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> in shadow, the gold of her hair glinted with +the early light, and her white, white face turned upward.</p> + +<p>He lost no time in climbing down to her side, dreading what he might +find. Was she dead? What had happened to her? It was a perilous spot +where she lay, and the dangers that might have harmed her had been many. +The sky grew pink, and tinted all the clouds with rose as he knelt +beside the still form.</p> + +<p>A moment served to convince him that she was still alive; even in the +half darkness he could see the drawn, weary look of her face. Poor +child! Poor little girl, lost on the desert! He was glad, glad he had +come to find her.</p> + +<p>He gathered her in his strong arms and bore her upward to the light.</p> + +<p>Laying her in a sheltered spot he quickly brought water, bathed her face +and forced a stimulant between the white lips. He chafed her cold little +hands, blistered with the bridle, gave her more stimulant, and was +rewarded by seeing a faint colour steal into the lips and cheeks. +Finally the white lids fluttered open for a second and gave him a +glimpse of great dark eyes in which was still mirrored the horror and +fright of the night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>He gave her another draught, and hastened to prepare a more comfortable +resting place, bringing the canvas from Billy's pack, and one or two +other little articles that might make for comfort, among them a small +hot water bottle. When he had her settled on the canvas with sweet ferns +and grass underneath for a pillow and his own blanket spread over her he +set about gathering wood for a fire, and soon he had water boiling in +his tin cup, enough to fill the rubber bottle. When he put it in her +cold hands she opened her eyes again wonderingly. He smiled reassuringly +and she nestled down contentedly with the comfort of the warmth. She was +too weary to question or know aught save that relief from a terrible +horror was come at last.</p> + +<p>The next time he came to her it was with a cup of strong beef tea which +he held to her lips and coaxed her to swallow. When it was finished she +lay back and slept again with a long drawn trembling sigh that was +almost like a sob, and the heart of the young man was shaken to its +depths over the agony through which she must have passed. Poor child, +poor little child!</p> + +<p>He busied himself with making their temporary camp as comfortable as +possible, and looking after the needs of the horses,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> then coming back +to his patient he stood looking down at her as she slept, wondering what +he ought to do next.</p> + +<p>They were a long distance from any human habitation. Whatever made the +pony take this lonely trail was a puzzle. It led to a distant Indian +settlement, and doubtless the animal was returning to his former master, +but how had it come that the rider had not turned him back?</p> + +<p>Then he looked down at the frail girl asleep on the ground and grew +grave as he thought of the perils through which she had passed alone and +unguarded. The exquisite delicacy of her face touched him as the vision +of an angelic being might have done, and for an instant he forgot +everything in the wonder with which her beauty filled him; the lovely +outline of the profile as it rested lightly against her raised arm, the +fineness and length of her wealth of hair, like spun gold in the glint +of the sunshine that was just peering over the rim of the mountain, the +clearness of her skin, so white and different from the women in that +region, the pitiful droop of the sweet lips showing utter exhaustion. +His heart went out from him with longing to comfort her, guard her, and +bring her back to happiness. A strange, joyful tenderness for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> her +filled him as he looked, so that he could scarcely draw his gaze from +her face. Then all at once it came over him that she would not like a +stranger thus to stand and gaze upon her helplessness, and with quick +reverence he turned his eyes away towards the sky.</p> + +<p>It was a peculiar morning, wonderfully beautiful. The clouds were tinted +pink almost like a sunset and lasted so for over an hour, as if the dawn +were coming gently that it might not waken her who slept.</p> + +<p>Brownleigh, with one more glance to see if his patient was comfortable, +went softly away to gather wood, bring more water, and make various +little preparations for a breakfast later when she should waken. In an +hour he tiptoed back to see if all was going well, and stooping laid a +practiced finger on the delicate wrist to note the flutter of her pulse. +He could count it with care, feeble, as if the heart had been under +heavy strain, but still growing steadier on the whole. She was doing +well to sleep. It was better than any medicine he could administer.</p> + +<p>Meantime, he must keep a sharp lookout for travellers. They were quite +off the trail here, and the trail was an old one anyway and almost +disused. There was little likeli<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>hood of many passers. It might be days +before any one came that way. There was no human habitation within call, +and he dared not leave his charge to go in search of help to carry her +back to civilization again. He must just wait here till she was able to +travel.</p> + +<p>It occurred to him to wonder where she belonged and how she came to be +thus alone, and whether it was not altogether probable that a party of +searchers might be out soon with some kind of a conveyance to carry her +home. He must keep a sharp lookout and signal any passing rider.</p> + +<p>To this end he moved away from the sleeping girl as far as he dared +leave her, and uttered a long, clear call occasionally, but no answer +came.</p> + +<p>He dared not use his rifle for signalling lest he run out of ammunition +which he might need before he got back with his charge. However, he felt +it wise to combine hunting with signalling, and when a rabbit hurried +across his path not far away he shot it, and the sound echoed out in the +clear morning, but no answering signal came.</p> + +<p>After he had shot two rabbits and dressed them ready for dinner when his +guest should wake, he replenished the fire, set the rabbits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> to roasting +on a curious little device of his own, and lay down on the opposite side +of the fire. He was weary beyond expression himself, but he never +thought of it once. The excitement of the occasion kept him up. He lay +still marvelling at the strangeness of his position, and wondering what +would be revealed when the girl should wake. He almost dreaded to have +her do so lest she should not be as perfect as she looked asleep. His +heart was in a tumult of wonder over her, and of thankfulness that he +had found her before some terrible fate had overtaken her.</p> + +<p>As he lay there resting, filled with an exalted joy, his mind wandered +to the longings of the day before, the little adobe home of his +co-labourer which he had left, its homeyness and joy; his own loneliness +and longing for companionship. Then he looked shyly towards the tree +shade where the glint of golden hair and the dark line of his blanket +were all he could see of the girl he had found in the wilderness. What +if his Father had answered his prayer and sent her to him! What miracle +of joy! A thrill of tenderness passed through him and he pressed his +hands over his closed eyes in a kind of ecstasy.</p> + +<p>What foolishness! Dreams, of course! He tried to sober himself but he +could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> keep from thinking how it would seem to have this lovely girl +enthroned in his little shack, ready to share his joys and comfort his +sorrows; to be beloved and guarded and tenderly cared for by him.</p> + +<p>A stir of the old blanket and a softly drawn sigh brought this delicious +reverie to a close, and himself to his feet flushing cold and hot at +thought of facing her awake.</p> + +<p>She had turned over towards him slightly, her cheeks flushed with sleep. +One hand was thrown back over her head, and the sun caught and flashed +the sparkle of jewels into his eyes, great glory-clear gems like drops +of morning dew when the sun is new upon them, and the flash of the +jewels told him once more what he had known before, that here was a +daughter of another world than his. They seemed to hurt him as he +looked, those costly gems, for they pierced to his heart and told him +they were set on a wall of separation which might rise forever between +her and himself.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he came to himself and was the missionary again, with his +senses all on the alert, and a keen realization that it was high noon +and his patient was waking up. He must have slept himself although he +thought he had been broad awake all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> time. The hour had come for +action and he must put aside the foolish thoughts that had crowded in +when his weary brain was unable to cope with the cool facts of life. Of +course all this was stuff and nonsense that he had been dreaming. He +must do his duty by this needy one now.</p> + +<p>Stepping softly he brought a cup of water that he had placed in the +shade to keep cool, and stood beside the girl, speaking quietly, as +though he had been her nurse for years.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like a drink of water?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The girl opened her eyes and looked up at him bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she said eagerly, though her voice was very weak. "Oh, +yes,—I'm so thirsty.—I thought we never would get anywhere!"</p> + +<p>She let him lift her head, and drank eagerly, then sank back exhausted +and closed her eyes. He almost thought she was going to sleep again.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like something to eat?" he asked. "Dinner is almost ready. +Do you think you can sit up to eat or would you rather lie still?"</p> + +<p>"Dinner!" she said languidly; "but I thought it was night. Did I dream +it all, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> how did I get here? I don't remember this place."</p> + +<p>She looked around curiously and then closed her eyes as if the effort +were almost too much.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I feel so queer and tired, as if I never wanted to move again," she +murmured.</p> + +<p>"Don't move," he commanded. "Wait until you've had something to eat. +I'll bring it at once."</p> + +<p>He brought a cup of steaming hot beef extract with little broken bits of +biscuit from a small tin box in the pack, and fed it to her a spoonful +at a time.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" she asked as she swallowed the last spoonful, and opened +her eyes, which had been closed most of the time, while he fed her, as +if she were too tired to keep them open.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm just the missionary. Brownleigh's my name. Now don't talk until +you've had the rest of your dinner. I'll bring it in a minute. I want to +make you a cup of tea, but you see I have to wash this cup first. The +supply of dishes is limited." His genial smile and hearty words +reassured her and she smiled and submitted.</p> + +<p>"A missionary!" she mused and opened her eyes furtively to watch him as +he went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> about his task. A missionary! She had never seen a missionary +before, to her knowledge. She had fancied them always quite a different +species, plain old maids with hair tightly drawn behind their ears and a +poke bonnet with little white lawn strings.</p> + +<p>This was a man, young, strong, engaging, and handsome as a fine piece of +bronze. The brown flannel shirt he wore fitted easily over well knit +muscles and exactly matched the brown of the abundant wavy hair in which +the morning sun was setting glints of gold as he knelt before the fire +and deftly completed his cookery. His soft wide-brimmed felt hat pushed +far back on the head, the corduroy trousers, leather chaps and belt with +brace of pistols all fitted into the picture and made the girl feel that +she had suddenly left the earth where she had heretofore lived and been +dropped into an unknown land with a strong kind angel to look after her.</p> + +<p>A missionary! Then of course she needn't be afraid of him. As she +studied his face she knew that she couldn't possibly have been afraid of +that face anyway, unless, perhaps, she had ventured to disobey its +owner's orders. He had a strong, firm chin, and his lips though kindly +in their curve looked decided as though they were not to be trifled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +with. On the whole if this was a missionary then she must change her +ideas of missionaries from this time forth.</p> + +<p>She watched his light, free movements, now sitting back upon his heels +to hold the cup of boiling water over the blaze by a curiously contrived +handle, now rising and going to the saddle pack for some needed article. +There was something graceful as well as powerful about his every motion. +He gave one a sense of strength and almost infinite resource. Then +suddenly her imagination conjured there beside him the man from whom she +had fled, and in the light of this fine face the other face darkened and +weakened and she had a swift revelation of his true character, and +wondered that she had never known before. A shudder passed over her, and +a gray pallor came into her face at the memory. She felt a great +distaste for thinking or the necessity for even living at that moment.</p> + +<p>Then at once he was beside her with a tin plate and the cup of steaming +tea, and began to feed her, as if she had been a baby, roast rabbit and +toasted corn bread. She ate unquestioningly, and drank her tea, finding +all delicious after her long fast, and gaining new strength with every +mouthful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How did I get here?" she asked suddenly, rising to one elbow and +looking around. "I don't seem to remember a place like this."</p> + +<p>"I found you hanging on a bush in the moonlight," he said gravely, "and +brought you here."</p> + +<p>Hazel lay back and reflected on this. He had brought her here. Then he +must have carried her! Well, his arms looked strong enough to lift a +heavier person than herself—but he had brought her here!</p> + +<p>A faint colour stole into her pale cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said at last. "I suppose I wasn't just able to come +myself." There was a droll little pucker at the corner of her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," he answered as he gathered up the dishes.</p> + +<p>"I remember that crazy little steed of mine began to climb straight up +the side of a terrible wall in the dark, and finally decided to wipe me +off with a tree. That is the last I can recall. I felt myself slipping +and couldn't hold on any longer. Then it all got dark and I let go."</p> + +<p>"Where were you going?" asked the young man.</p> + +<p>"Going? I wasn't going anywhere," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> the girl; "the pony was doing +that. He was running away, I suppose. He ran miles and hours with me and +I couldn't stop him. I lost hold on the bridle, you see, and he had +ideas about what he wanted to do. I was almost frightened to death, and +there wasn't a soul in sight all day. I never saw such an empty place in +my life. It can't be this is still Arizona, we came so far."</p> + +<p>"When did you start?" the missionary questioned gravely.</p> + +<p>"Why, this morning,—that is—why, it must have been yesterday. I'm sure +I don't know when. It was Wednesday morning about eleven o'clock that we +left the car on horseback to visit a mine papa had heard about. It seems +about a year since we started."</p> + +<p>"How many were in your party?" asked the young man.</p> + +<p>"Just papa and my brother, and Mr. Hamar, a friend of my father's," +answered the girl, her cheeks reddening at the memory of the name.</p> + +<p>"But was there no guide, no native with you at all?" There was anxiety +in the young man's tone. He had visions of other lost people who would +have to be looked after.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, there was the man my father had written to, who brought the +horses, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> two or three men with him, some of them Indians, I think. +His name was Bunce, Mr. Bunce. He was a queer man with a lot of wild +looking hair."</p> + +<p>"Shag Bunce," said the missionary thoughtfully. "But if Shag was along I +cannot understand how you came to get so widely separated from your +party. He rides the fastest horse in this region. No pony of his outfit, +be he ever so fleet, could get far ahead of Shag Bunce. He would have +caught you within a few minutes. What happened? Was there an accident?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her keenly, feeling sure there was some mystery behind her +wanderings that he ought to unravel for the sake of the girl and her +friends. Hazel's cheeks grew rosy.</p> + +<p>"Why, nothing really happened," she said evasively. "Mr. Bunce was ahead +with my father. In fact he was out of sight when my pony started to run. +I was riding with Mr. Hamar, and as we didn't care anything about the +mine we didn't hurry. Before we realized it the others were far ahead +over a hill or something, I forget what was ahead, only they couldn't be +seen. Then we—I—that is—well, I must have touched my pony pretty hard +with my whip and he wheeled and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> started to run. I'm not sure but I +touched Mr. Hamar's horse, too, and he was behaving badly. I really +hadn't time to see. I don't know what became of Mr. Hamar. He isn't much +of a horseman. I don't believe he had ever ridden before. He may have +had some trouble with his horse. Anyway before I knew it I was out of +sight of everything but wide empty stretches with mountains and clouds +at the end everywhere, and going on and on and not getting any nearer to +any thing."</p> + +<p>"This Mr. Hamar must have been a fool not to have given an alarm to your +friends at once if he could do nothing himself," said Brownleigh +sternly. "I cannot understand how it could happen that no one found you +sooner. It was the merest chance that I came upon your whip and other +little things and so grew anxious lest some one was lost. It is very +strange that no one found you before this. Your father will have been +very anxious."</p> + +<p>Hazel sat up with flaming cheeks and began to gather her hair in a knot. +A sudden realization of her position had come upon her and given her +strength.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see," she stumbled, trying to explain without telling +anything, "Mr. Hamar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> might have thought I had gone back to the car, or +he might have thought I would turn back in a few minutes. I do not think +he would have wanted to follow me just then. I was—angry with him!"</p> + +<p>The young missionary looked at the beautiful girl sitting upright on the +canvas he had spread for her bed, trying vainly to reduce her bright +hair to something like order, her cheeks glowing, her eyes shining now, +half with anger, half with embarrassment, and for a second he pitied the +one who had incurred her wrath. A strange unreasoning anger towards the +unknown man took possession of him, and his face grew tender as he +watched the girl.</p> + +<p>"That was no excuse for letting you go alone into the perils of the +desert," he said severely. "He could not have known. It was impossible +that he could have understood or he would have risked his life to save +you from what you have been through. No man could do otherwise!"</p> + +<p>Hazel looked up, surprised at the vehemence of the words, and again the +contrast between the two men struck her forcibly.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," she murmured looking off towards the distant mountains +thoughtfully, "that he isn't much of a man."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>And somehow the young missionary was relieved to hear her say so. There +was a moment's embarrassed silence and then Brownleigh began to search +in his pocket, as he saw the golden coil of hair beginning to slip loose +from its knot again.</p> + +<p>"Will these help you any?" he asked handing out the comb and hairpins he +had found, a sudden awkwardness coming upon him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my own comb!" she exclaimed. "And hairpins! Where did you find +them? Indeed they will help," and she seized upon them eagerly.</p> + +<p>He turned away embarrassed, marvelling at the touch of her fingers as +she took the bits of shell from his hand. No woman's hand like that had +touched his own, even in greeting, since he bade good-bye to his invalid +mother and came out to these wilds to do his work. It thrilled him to +the very soul and he was minded of the sweet awe that had come upon him +in his own cabin as he looked upon the little articles of woman's toilet +lying upon his table as if they were at home. He could not understand +his own mood. It seemed like weakness. He turned aside and frowned at +himself for his foolish sentimentality towards a stranger whom he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> had +found upon the desert. He laid it to the weariness of the long journey +and the sleepless night.</p> + +<p>"I found them in the sand. They showed me the way to find you," he said, +trying vainly to speak in a commonplace tone. But somehow his voice +seemed to take on a deep significance. He looked at her shyly, half +fearing she must feel it, and then murmuring something about looking +after the horses he hurried away.</p> + +<p>When he came back she had mastered the rebellious hair, and it lay +shining and beautiful, braided and coiled about her shapely head. She +was standing now, having shaken down and smoothed out the rumpled riding +habit, and had made herself look quite fresh and lovely in spite of the +limited toilet conveniences.</p> + +<p>He caught his breath as he saw her. The two regarded one another +intensely for just an instant, each startlingly conscious of the other's +personality, as men and women will sometimes get a glimpse beyond mere +body and sight the soul. Each was aware of a thrilling pleasure in the +presence of the other. It was something new and wonderful that could not +be expressed nor even put into thoughts as yet but something none the +less<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> real that flashed along their consciousness like the song of the +native bird, the scent of the violet, the breath of the morning.</p> + +<p>The instant of soul recognition passed and then each recovered +self-possession, but it was the woman who spoke first.</p> + +<p>"I feel very much more respectable," she laughed pleasantly. "Where is +my vicious little horse? Isn't it time we were getting back?"</p> + +<p>Then a cloud of anxiety came over the brightness of the man's face.</p> + +<p>"That is what I was coming to tell you," he said in a troubled tone. +"The wicked little beast has eaten off his hobble and fled. There isn't +a sight of him to be seen far or wide. He must have cleared out while we +were at dinner, for he was munching grass peaceably enough before you +woke up. It was careless of me not to make him more secure. The hobble +was an old one and worn, but the best I had. I came back to tell you +that I must ride after him at once. You won't be afraid to stay alone +for a little while, will you? My horse has had a rest. I think I ought +to be able to catch him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>V</h2> + +<h3>THE TRAIL</h3> + + +<p>But the look of horror in the eyes of the girl stopped him.</p> + +<p>She gave a quick frightened glance around and then her eyes besought +him. All the terror of the night alone in the wideness returned upon +her. She heard again the howl of the coyotes, and saw the long dark +shadows in the canyon. She was white to the lips with the thought of it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't leave me alone!" she said trying to speak bravely. "I don't +feel as if I could stand it. There are wild beasts around"—she glanced +furtively behind her as if even now one was slyly tracking her—"it was +awful—awful! Their howls! And it is so alone here!—I never was alone +before!"</p> + +<p>There was that in her appealing helplessness that gave him a wild desire +to stoop and fold her in his arms and tell her he would never leave her +while she wanted him. The colour came and went in his fine bronzed face, +and his eyes grew tender with feeling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I won't leave you," he said gently, "not if you feel that way, though +there is really no danger here in daytime. The wild creatures are very +shy and only show themselves at night. But if I do not find your horse +how are you to get speedily back to your friends? It is a long distance +you have come, and you could not ride alone."</p> + +<p>Her face grew troubled.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I walk?" she suggested. "I'm a good walker. I've walked five +miles at once many a time."</p> + +<p>"We are at least forty miles from the railroad," he smiled back at her, +"and the road is rough, over a mountain by the nearest way. Your horse +must have been determined indeed to take you so far in one day. He is +evidently a new purchase of Shag's and bent on returning to his native +heath. Horses do that sometimes. It is their instinct. I'll tell you +what I'll do. It may be that he has only gone down in the valley to the +water-hole. There is one not far away, I think. I'll go to the edge of +the mesa and get a view. If he is not far away you can come with me +after him. Just sit here and watch me. I'll not go out of your sight or +hearing, and I'll not be gone five minutes. You'll not be afraid?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>She sat down obediently where he bade her, her eyes large with fear, for +she dreaded the loneliness of the desert more than any fear that had +ever visited her before.</p> + +<p>"I promise I'll not go beyond your sight and call," he reassured her and +with a smile turned towards his own horse, and swinging himself into the +saddle galloped rapidly away to the edge of the mesa.</p> + +<p>She watched him riding away, her fears almost forgotten in her +admiration of him, her heart beating strangely with the memory of his +smile. The protection of it seemed to linger behind him, and quiet her +anxiety.</p> + +<p>He rode straight to the east, and then more slowly turned and skirted +the horizon, riding north along the edge of the mesa. She saw him shade +his eyes with his hand and look away in all directions. At last after a +prolonged gaze straight north he wheeled his horse and came quickly back +to her.</p> + +<p>His face was grave as he dismounted.</p> + +<p>"I've sighted him," he said, "but it's no use. He has three or four +miles start, and a steep hill climbed. When he reaches the top of the +next mesa he has a straight course before him, and probably down-hill +after that. It might take me three or four hours to catch him and it's a +question if I could do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> it then. We'll have to dismiss him from our +arrangements and get along with Billy. Do you feel equal to riding now? +Or ought you to rest again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can ride, but—I cannot take your horse. What will you do?"</p> + +<p>"I shall do nicely," he answered smiling again; "only our progress will +be slower than if we had both horses. What a pity that I had not taken +off his saddle! It would have been more comfortable for you than this. +But I was searching so anxiously for the rider that I took little heed +to the horse except to hastily hobble him. And when I found you you +needed all my attention. Now I advise you to lie down and rest until I +get packed up. It won't take me long."</p> + +<p>She curled down obediently to rest until he was ready to fold up the +canvas on which she lay, and watched his easy movements as he put +together the few articles of the pack, and arranged the saddle for her +comfort. Then he strode over to her.</p> + +<p>"With your permission," he said and stooping picked her up lightly in +his arms and placed her on the horse.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," he said, "but you are not equal to the exertion of +mounting in the ordinary way. You will need every bit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> of strength for +the ride. You are weaker than you realize."</p> + +<p>Her laugh rippled out faintly.</p> + +<p>"You make me feel like an insignificant baby. I didn't know what was +happening until you had me here. You must have the strength of a giant. +I never felt so little before."</p> + +<p>"You are not a heavy burden," he said smiling. "Now are you quite +comfortable? If so we'll start."</p> + +<p>Billy arched his neck and turned his head proudly to survey his new +rider, a look of friendliness on his bay face and in his kindly eye.</p> + +<p>"Oh, isn't he a beauty!" exclaimed the girl reaching out a timid hand to +pat his neck. The horse bowed and almost seemed to smile. Brownleigh +noticed the gleam of a splendid jewel on the little hand.</p> + +<p>"Billy is my good friend and constant companion," said the missionary. +"We've faced some long, hard days together. He is wanting me to tell you +now that he is proud to carry you back to your friends."</p> + +<p>Billy bowed up and down and smiled again, and Hazel laughed out with +pleasure. Then her face grew sober again.</p> + +<p>"But you will have to walk," she said. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> cannot take your horse and +let you walk. I won't do that. I'm going to walk with you."</p> + +<p>"And use up what strength you have so that you could not even ride?" he +said pleasantly. "No, I couldn't allow that, you know, and I am pleased +to walk with a companion. A missionary's life is pretty lonesome +sometimes, you know. Come, Billy, we must be starting, for we want to +make a good ten miles before we stop to rest if our guest can stand the +journey."</p> + +<p>With stately steppings as if he knew he bore a princess Billy started; +and with long, easy strides Brownleigh walked by his side, ever watchful +of the way, and furtively observing the face of the girl, whose strength +he well knew must be extremely limited after her ride of the day before.</p> + +<p>Out on the top of the mesa looking off towards the great mountains and +the wide expanse of seemingly infinite shades and colourings Hazel drew +her breath in wonder at the beauty of the scene. Her companion called +her attention to this and that point of interest. The slender dark line +across the plain was mesquite. He told her how when once they had +entered it it would seem to spread out vastly as though it filled the +whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> valley, and that then looking back the grassy slope below them +would seem to be an insignificant streak of yellow. He told her it was +always so in this land, that the kind of landscape through which one was +passing filled the whole view and seemed the only thing in life. He said +he supposed it was so in all our lives, that the immediate present +filled the whole view of the future until we came to something else; and +the look in his eyes made her turn from the landscape and wonder about +him and his life.</p> + +<p>Then he stooped and pointed to a clump of soapweed, and idly broke off a +bit of another bush, handing it to her.</p> + +<p>"The Indians call it 'the weed that was not scared,'" he said. "Isn't it +an odd suggestive name?"</p> + +<p>"It must be a brave little weed indeed to live out here all alone under +this terribly big sky. I wouldn't like it even if I were only a weed," +and she looked around and shivered with the thought of her fearful ride +alone in the night. But she tucked the little spray of brave green into +the buttonhole of her riding habit and it looked of prouder lineage than +any weed as it rested against the handsome darkness of the rich green +cloth. For an instant the missionary studied the picture of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> the lovely +girl on the horse and forgot that he was only a missionary. Then with a +start he came to himself. They must be getting on, for the sun had +already passed its zenith, and the way was long before them. His eyes +lingered wistfully on the gleam of her hair where the sun touched it +into burnished gold. Then he remembered.</p> + +<p>"By the way, is this yours?" he asked, and brought out of his pocket the +little velvet cap.</p> + +<p>"Oh, where did you find it?" she cried, settling it on her head like a +touch of velvet in a crown. "I dropped it in front of a tiny little +cabin when my last hope vanished. I called and called but the wind threw +my voice back into my throat and no one came out to answer me."</p> + +<p>"It was my house," he said. "I found it on a sage-bush a few feet from +my own door. Would that I had been at home to answer your call!"</p> + +<p>"Your house!" she exclaimed, in wonder. "Oh, why, it couldn't have been. +It wasn't big enough for anybody—not anybody like you—to live in. Why, +it wasn't anything more than a—a shed,—just a little board shanty."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; my shack!" he said half apolo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>getically, half comically. "You +should see the inside. It's not so bad as it looks. I only wish I could +take you that way, but the fact is it's somewhat out of the way to the +railroad, and we must take the short cut if we want to shorten your +father's anxiety. Do you feel able to go on further now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, quite," she said with sudden trouble in her face. "Papa will +be very much worried, and Aunt Maria—oh, Aunt Maria will be wild with +anxiety. She will tell me that this is just what she expected from my +going out riding in this heathen land. She warned me not to go. She said +it wasn't ladylike."</p> + +<p>As they went on gradually she told him all about her people, describing +their little idiosyncrasies; her aunt, her brother, her father, her maid +and even the fat man cook. The young man soon had the picture of the +private car with all its luxuries, and the story of the days of travel +that had been one long fairy tale of pleasure. Only the man Hamar was +not mentioned; but the missionary had not forgotten him. Somehow he had +taken a dislike to him from the first mention of his name. He blamed him +fiercely for not having come after the maiden, yet blessed the fortune +that had given himself that honour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were descending into the canyon now, but not by the steep trail up +which the pony had taken her the night before. However it was rough +enough and the descent, though it was into the very heart of nature's +beauty storehouse, yet frightened Hazel. She started at every steep +place, and clutched at the saddle wildly, pressing her white teeth hard +into her under lip until it grew white and tense. Her face was white +also, and a sudden faintness seemed to come upon her. Brownleigh noticed +instantly, and walking close beside the horse, guiding carefully his +every step, he put his free arm about her to steady her, and bade her +lean towards him and not be afraid.</p> + +<p>His strength steadied her and gave her confidence; and his pleasant +voice pointing out the beauties of the way helped her to forget her +fright. He made her look up and showed her how the great ferns were +hanging over in a fringe of green at the top of the bare rocks above, +their delicate lacery standing out like green fretwork against the blue +of the sky. He pointed to a cave in the rocks far above, and told her of +the dwellers of old who had hollowed it out for a home; of the stone +axes and jars of clay, the corn mills and sandals woven of yucca that +were found there; and of other curious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> cave-houses in this part of the +country; giving in answer to her wondering questions much curious +information, the like of which she had never heard before.</p> + +<p>Then when they were fairly down in the shadows of the canyon he brought +her a cooling draught of spring water in the tin cup, and lifting her +unexpectedly from the horse made her sit in a mossy spot where sweet +flowers clustered about, and rest for a few minutes, for he knew the +ride down the steep path had been terribly trying to her nerves.</p> + +<p>Yet all his attentions to her, whether lifting her to and from the +saddle, or putting his arm about her to support her on the way, were +performed with such grace of courtesy as to remove all personality from +his touch, and she marvelled at it while she sat and rested and watched +him from the distance watering Billy at a noisy little stream that +chattered through the canyon.</p> + +<p>He put her on the horse again and they took their way through the +coolness and beauty of the canyon winding along the edge of the little +stream, threading their way among the trees, and over boulders and rough +places until at last in the late afternoon they came out again upon the +plain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>The missionary looked anxiously at the sun. It had taken longer to come +through the canyon than he had anticipated. The day was waning. He +quickened Billy into a trot and settled into a long athletic run beside +him, while the girl's cheeks flushed with the exercise and wind, and her +admiration of her escort grew.</p> + +<p>"But aren't you very tired?" she asked at last when he slowed down and +made Billy walk again. Billy, by the way, had enjoyed the race +immensely. He thought he was having a grand time with a princess on his +back and his beloved master keeping pace with him. He was confident by +this time that they were bringing the princess home to be there to +welcome them on all returns hereafter. His horse-sense had jumped to a +conclusion and approved most heartily.</p> + +<p>"Tired!" answered Brownleigh and laughed; "not consciously. I'm good for +several miles yet myself. I haven't had such a good time in three years, +not since I left home—and mother," he added softly, reverently.</p> + +<p>There was a look in his eyes that made the girl long to know more. She +watched him keenly and asked:</p> + +<p>"Oh, then you have a mother!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I have a mother,—a wonderful mother!" He breathed the words like +a blessing. The girl looked at him in awe. She had no mother. Her own +had died before she could remember. Aunt Maria was her only idea of +mothers.</p> + +<p>"Is she out here?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, she is at home up in New Hampshire in a little quiet country town, +but she is a wonderful mother."</p> + +<p>"And have you no one else, no other family out here with you?"</p> + +<p>Hazel did not realize how anxiously she awaited the answer to that +question. Somehow she felt a jealous dislike of any one who might belong +to him, even a mother—and a sudden thought of sister or wife who might +share the little shanty cabin with him made her watch his face narrowly. +But the answer was quick, with almost a shadow like deep longing on his +face:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I have no one. I'm all alone. And sometimes if it were not for +mother's letters it would seem a great way from home."</p> + +<p>The girl did not know why it was so pleasant to know this, and why her +heart went out in instant sympathy for him.</p> + +<p>"O-oo!" she said gently. "Tell me about your mother, please!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so he told her, as he walked beside her, of his invalid mother whose +frail body and its needs bound her to a couch in her old New England +home, helpless and carefully tended by a devoted nurse whom she loved +and who loved her. Her great spirit had risen to the sacrifice of +sending her only son out to the desert on his chosen commission.</p> + +<p>They had been climbing a long sloping hill, and at the climax of the +story had reached the top and could look abroad again over a wide +expanse of country. It seemed to Hazel's city bred eyes as though the +kingdoms of the whole world lay spread before her awed gaze. A brilliant +sunset was spreading a great silver light behind the purple mountains in +the west, red and blue in flaming lavishness, with billows of white +clouds floating above, and over that in sharp contrast the sky was +velvet black with storm. To the south the rain was falling in a +brilliant shower like yellow gold, and to the east two more patches of +rain were rosy pink as petals of some wondrous flowers, and arching over +them a half rainbow. Turning slightly towards the north one saw the rain +falling from dark blue clouds in great streaks of white light.</p> + +<p>"Oh-oo!" breathed the girl; "how won<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>derful! I never saw anything like +that before."</p> + +<p>But the missionary had no time for answer. He began quickly to unstrap +the canvas from behind the saddle, watching the clouds as he did so.</p> + +<p>"We are going to get a wetting, I'm afraid," he said and looked +anxiously at his companion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VI</h2> + +<h3>CAMP</h3> + + +<p>It came indeed before he was quite ready for it, but he managed to throw +the canvas over horse and lady, bidding her hold it on one side while +he, standing close under the extemporized tent, held the other side, +leaving an opening in front for air, and so they managed to keep +tolerably dry, while two storms met overhead and poured down a torrent +upon them.</p> + +<p>The girl laughed out merrily as the first great splashes struck her +face, then retreated into the shelter as she was bidden and sat quietly +watching, and wondering over it all.</p> + +<p>Here was she, a carefully nurtured daughter of society, until now never +daring to step one inch beyond the line of conventionality, sitting afar +from all her friends and kindred on a wide desert plain, under a bit of +canvas with a strange missionary's arm about her, and sitting as +securely and contentedly, nay happily, as if she had been in her own +cushioned chair in her New York boudoir. It is true the arm was about +her for the purpose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> of holding down the canvas and keeping out the +rain, but there was a wonderful security and sense of strength in it +that filled her with a strange new joy and made her wish that the +elements of the universe might continue to rage in brilliant display +about her head a little longer, if thereby she might continue to feel +the strength of that fine presence near her and about her. A great +weariness was upon her and this was rest and content, so she put all +other thoughts out of her mind for the time and rested back against the +strong arm in full realization of her safety amidst the disturbance of +the elements.</p> + +<p>The missionary wore his upward look. No word passed between them as the +panorama of the storm swept by. Only God knew what was passing in his +soul, and how out of that dear nearness of the beautiful girl a great +longing was born to have her always near him, his right to ever protect +her from the storms of life.</p> + +<p>But he was a man of marked self-control. He held even his thoughts in +obedience to a higher power, and while the wild wish of his heart swept +exquisitely over him he stood calmly, and handed it back to heaven as +though he knew it were a wandering wish, a testing of his true self.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the first instant of relief from necessity he took his arm away. He +did not presume a single second to hold the canvas after the wind had +subsided, and she liked him the better for it, and felt her trust in him +grow deeper as he gently shook the raindrops from their temporary +shelter.</p> + +<p>The rain had lasted but a few minutes, and as the clouds cleared the +earth grew lighter for a space. Gently melting into the silver and +amethyst and emerald of the sky the rainbow faded and now they hurried +on, for Brownleigh wished to reach a certain spot where he hoped to find +dry shelter for the night. He saw that the excitement of travel and the +storm had sorely spent the strength of the girl, and that she needed +rest, so he urged the horse forward, and hurried along by his side.</p> + +<p>But suddenly he halted the horse and looked keenly into the face of his +companion in the dying light.</p> + +<p>"You are very tired," he said. "You can hardly sit up any longer."</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>Her whole body was drooping with weariness and a strange sick faintness +had come upon her.</p> + +<p>"We must stop here," he said and cast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> about him for a suitable spot. +"Well, this will do. Here is a dry place, the shelter of that big rock. +The rain was from the other direction, and the ground around here did +not even get sprinkled. That group of trees will do for a private room +for you. We'll soon have a fire and some supper and then you'll feel +better."</p> + +<p>With that he stripped off his coat and, spreading it upon the ground in +the dry shelter of a great rock, lifted the drooping girl from the +saddle and laid her gently on the coat.</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes wearily and sank back. In truth she was nearer to +fainting than she had ever been in her life, and the young man hastened +to administer a restorative which brought the colour back to her pale +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," she murmured, opening her eyes and trying to smile. "I +was just tired, and my back ached with so much riding."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk!" he said gently. "I'll give you something to hearten you up +in a minute."</p> + +<p>He quickly gathered sticks and soon had a blazing fire not far from +where she lay, and the glow of it played over her face and her golden +hair, while he prepared a second cup of beef extract, and blessed the +fortune that had made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> him fill his canteen with water at the spring in +the canyon, for water might not be very near, and he felt that to have +to move the girl further along that night would be a disaster. He could +see that she was about used up. But while he was making preparations for +supper, Billy, who was hobbled but entirely able to edge about slowly, +had discovered a water-hole for himself, and settled that difficulty. +Brownleigh drew a sigh of relief, and smiled happily as he saw his +patient revive under the influence of the hot drink and a few minutes' +rest.</p> + +<p>"I'm quite able to go on a little further," she said, sitting up with an +effort, "if you think we should go further to-night. I really don't feel +bad at all any more."</p> + +<p>He smiled with relief.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad," he said; "I was afraid I had made you travel too far. No, +we'll not go further till daylight, I think. This is as good a place to +camp as any, and water not far away. You will find your boudoir just +inside that group of trees, and in half an hour or so the canvas will be +quite dry for your bed. I've got it spread out, you see, close to the +fire on the other side there. And it wasn't wet through. The blanket was +sheltered. It will be warm and dry. I think we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> can make you +comfortable. Have you ever slept out under the stars before—that is, of +course, with the exception of last night? I don't suppose you really +enjoyed that experience."</p> + +<p>Hazel shuddered at the thought.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember much, only awful darkness and howling. Will those +creatures come this way, do you think? I feel as if I should die with +fright if I have to hear them again."</p> + +<p>"You may hear them in the distance, but not nearby," he answered +reassuringly; "they do not like the fire. They will not come near nor +disturb you. Besides, I shall be close at hand all night. I am used to +listening and waking in the night. I shall keep a bright fire blazing."</p> + +<p>"But you—you—what will you do? You are planning to give me the canvas +and the blanket, and stay awake yourself keeping watch. You have walked +all day while I have ridden, and you have been nurse and cook as well, +while I have been good for nothing. And now you want me to rest +comfortably all night while you sit up."</p> + +<p>There was a ring in the young man's voice as he answered her that +thrilled her to the heart.</p> + +<p>"I shall be all right," he said, and his voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> was positively joyous, +"and I shall have the greatest night of my life taking care of you. I +count it a privilege. Many a night have I slept alone under the stars +with no one to guard, and felt the loneliness. Now I shall always have +this to remember. Besides, I shall not sit up. I am used to throwing +myself down anywhere. My clothing is warm, and my saddle is used to +acting as a pillow. I shall sleep and rest, and yet be always on the +alert to keep up the fire and hear any sound that comes near." He talked +as though he were recounting the plan of some delightful recreation, and +the girl lay and watched his handsome face in the play of the firelight +and rejoiced in it. Somehow there was something very sweet in +companionship alone in the vast silence with this stranger friend. She +found herself glad of the wideness of the desert and the stillness of +the night that shut out the world and made their most unusual +relationship possible for a little while. A great longing possessed her +to know more and understand better the fine personality of this man who +was a man among men, she was convinced.</p> + +<p>Suddenly as he came and sat down by the fire not far from her after +attending to the few supper dishes, she burst forth with a question:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why did you do it?"</p> + +<p>He turned to her eyes that were filled with a deep content and asked, +"Do what?"</p> + +<p>"Come here! Be a missionary! Why did you do it? You are fitted for +better things. You could fill a large city church, or—even do other +things in the world. Why did you do it?"</p> + +<p>The firelight flickered on his face and showed his features fine and +strong in an expression of deep feeling that gave it an exalted look. +There seemed a light in his eyes that was more than firelight as he +raised them upward in a swift glance and said quietly, as though it were +the simplest matter in the universe:</p> + +<p>"Because my Father called me to this work. And—I doubt if there can be +any better. Listen!"</p> + +<p>And then he told her of his work while the fire burned cheerfully, and +the dusk grew deeper, till the moon showed clear her silver orb riding +high in starry heavens.</p> + +<p>The mournful voice of the coyotes echoed distantly, but the girl was not +frightened, for her thoughts were held by the story of the strange +childlike race for whom this man among men was giving his life.</p> + +<p>He told her of the Indian hogans, little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> round huts built of logs on +end, and slanting to a common centre thatched with turf and straw, an +opening for a door and another in the top to let out the smoke of the +fire, a dirt floor, no furniture but a few blankets, sheepskins, and +some tin dishes. He carried her in imagination to one such hogan where +lay the little dying Indian maiden and made the picture of their barren +lives so vivid that tears stood in her eyes as she listened. He told of +the medicine-men, the ignorance and superstition, the snake dances and +heathen rites; the wild, poetic, conservative man of the desert with his +distrust, his great loving heart, his broken hopes and blind +aspirations; until Hazel began to see that he really loved them, that he +had seen the possibility of greatness in them, and longed to help +develop it.</p> + +<p>He told her of the Sabbath just past, when in company with his distant +neighbour missionary he had gone on an evangelistic tour among the +tribes far away from the mission station. He pictured the Indians +sitting on rocks and stones amid the long shadows of the cedar trees, +just before the sundown, listening to a sermon. He had reminded them of +their Indian god Begochiddi and of Nilhchii whom the Indians believe to +have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> made all things, the same whom white men call God; and showed them +a book called the Bible which told the story of God, and of Jesus His +Son who came to save men from their sin. Not one of the Indians had ever +heard the name of Jesus before, nor knew anything of the great story of +salvation.</p> + +<p>Hazel found herself wondering why it made so very much difference +whether these poor ignorant creatures knew all this or not, and yet she +saw from the face of the man before her that it did matter, infinitely. +To him it mattered more than anything else. A passing wish that she were +an Indian to thus hold his interest flashed through her mind, but he was +speaking yet of his work, and his rapt look filled her with awe. She was +overwhelmed with the greatness and the fineness of the man before her. +Sitting there in the fitful firelight, with its ruddy glow upon his +face, his hat off and the moon laying a silver crown upon his head, he +seemed half angel, half god. She had never before been so filled with +the joy of beholding another soul. She had no room for thoughts of +anything else.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he remembered that it was late.</p> + +<p>"I have kept you awake far too long," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> said penitently, looking at +her with a smile that seemed all tenderness. "We ought to get on our way +as soon as it is light, and I have made you listen to me when you ought +to have been sleeping. But I always like to have a word with my Father +before retiring. Shall we have our worship together?"</p> + +<p>Hazel, overcome by wonder and embarrassment, assented and lay still in +her sheltered spot watching him as he drew a small leather book from his +breast pocket and opened to the place marked by a tiny silken cord. Then +stirring up the fire to brightness he began to read and the majestic +words of the ninety-first psalm came to her unaccustomed ears as a +charmed page.</p> + +<p>"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under +the shadow of the Almighty."</p> + +<p>"He shall cover thee with His feathers and under His wings shalt thou +trust." The words were uttered with a ringing tone of trust. The +listener knew little of birds and their ways, but the phrasing reminded +her of the way she had been sheltered from the storm a little while +before and her heart thrilled anew with the thought of it.</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ah! Terror by night! She knew what that meant. That awful night of +darkness, steep riding, howling beasts and black oblivion! She shuddered +involuntarily at the remembrance. Not afraid! What confidence the voice +had as it rang on, and all at once she knew that this night was free +from terror for her because of the man whose confidence was in the +Unseen.</p> + +<p>"He shall give His angels charge over thee," and looking at him she half +expected to see flitting wings in the moonlit background. How strong and +true the face! How tender the lines about the mouth! What a glow of +inner quietness and power in the eyes as he raised them now and again to +her face across the firelight! What a thing it would be to have a friend +like that always to guard one! Her eyes glowed softly at the thought and +once again there flashed across her mind the contrast between this man +and the one from whom she had fled in horror the day before.</p> + +<p>The reading ended, he replaced the little marker, and dropping upon one +knee on the desert with his face lifted to the sky and all the radiance +of the moon flooding over him he spoke to God as a man speaks with his +friend, face to face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hazel lay with open, wondering eyes and watched him, awe growing within +her. The sense of an unseen Presence close at hand was so strong that +once she lifted half frightened eyes to the wide clear sky. The light on +the face of the missionary seemed like glory from another world.</p> + +<p>She felt herself enfolded and upborne into the Presence of the infinite +by his words, and he did not forget to commend her loved ones to the +care of the Almighty. A great peace came upon her as she listened to the +simple, earnest words and a sense of security such as she had never +known before.</p> + +<p>After the brief prayer he turned to her with a smile and a few words of +assurance about the night. There was her dressing-room behind those +trees, and she need not be afraid; he would not be far away. He would +keep the fire bright all night so that she would not be annoyed by the +near howling of the coyotes. Then he moved away to gather more wood, and +she heard him singing, softly at first, and then gathering volume as he +got further away, his rich tenor voice ringing clear upon the night in +an old hymn. The words floated back distinctly to her listening ears:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Any hour is so sweet"> +<tr><td align='left'>"My God, is any hour so sweet</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">From flush of dawn to evening star,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">As that which calls me to Thy feet,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The hour of prayer?</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />"Then is my strength by Thee renewed;</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then are my sins by Thee forgiven;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Then dost Thou cheer my solitude</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">With hopes of heaven.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />"No words can tell what sweet relief</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">There for my every want I find;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">What strength for warfare, balm for grief,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">What peace of mind!"</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>She lay down for the night marvelling still over the man. He was singing +those words as if he meant every one, and she knew that he possessed +something that made him different from other men. What was it? It seemed +to her that he was the one man of all the earth, and how was it that she +had found him away out here alone in the desert?</p> + +<p>The great stars burned sharply in the heavens over her, the white +radiance of the moon lay all about her, the firelight played at her +feet. Far away she could hear the howling of the coyotes, but she was +not afraid.</p> + +<p>She could see the broad shoulders of the man as he stooped over on the +other side of the fire to throw on more wood. Presently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> she knew he had +thrown himself down with his head on the saddle, but she could hear him +still humming softly something that sounded like a lullaby. When the +firelight flared up it showed his fine profile.</p> + +<p>Not far away she could hear Billy cropping the grass, and throughout the +vast open universe there seemed to brood a great and peaceful silence. +She was very tired and her eyelids drooped shut. The last thing she +remembered was a line he had read from the little book, "He shall give +His angels charge——" and she wondered if they were somewhere about +now.</p> + +<p>That was all until she awoke suddenly with the consciousness that she +was alone, and that in the near distance a conversation in a low tone +was being carried on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VII</h2> + +<h3>REVELATION</h3> + + +<p>The moon was gone, and the luminous silver atmosphere was turned into a +clear dark blue, with shadows of the blackness of velvet; but the stars +burned redder now, and nearer to the earth.</p> + +<p>The fire still flickered brightly, with a glow the moon had paled before +she went to sleep, but there was no protecting figure on the other side +of the flames, and the angels seemed all to have forgotten.</p> + +<p>Off at a little distance, where a group of sage-brush made dense +darkness, she heard the talking. One speaking in low tones, now +pleading, now explaining, deeply earnest, with a mingling of anxiety and +trouble. She could not hear any words. She seemed to know the voice was +low that she might not hear; yet it filled her with a great fear. What +had happened? Had some one come to harm them, and was he pleading for +her life? Strange to say it never entered her head to doubt his loyalty, +stranger though he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> was. Her only feeling was that he might have been +overpowered in his sleep, and be even now in need of help himself. What +could she do?</p> + +<p>After the first instant of frozen horror she was on the alert. He had +saved her, she must help him. She could not hear any other voice than +his. Probably the enemy spoke in whispers, but she knew that she must go +at once and find out what was the matter. The distance from her pleasant +couch beside the fire was but a few steps, yet it seemed to her +frightened heart and trembling limbs, as she crept softly over towards +the sage-brush, that it was miles.</p> + +<p>At last she was close to the bush, could part it with her cold hand and +look into the little shelter.</p> + +<p>There was a faint light in the east beyond the mountains that showed the +coming dawn, and silhouetted against this she saw the figure of her +rescuer, dropped upon one knee, his elbow on the other and his face +bowed in his hand. She could hear his words distinctly now, but there +was no man else present, though she searched the darkness carefully.</p> + +<p>"I found her lost out here in the wilderness," he was saying in low, +earnest tones,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> "so beautiful, so dear! But I know she cannot be for me. +Her life has been all luxury and I would not be a man to ask her to +share the desert! I know too that she is not fitted for the work. I know +it would be all wrong, and I must not wish it, but I love her, though I +may not tell her so! I must be resolute and strong, and not show her +what I feel. I must face my Gethsemane, for this girl is as dear to me +as my own soul! God bless and guard her, for I may not."</p> + +<p>The girl had stood rooted to the spot unable to move as the low voice +went on with its revelation, but when the plea for a blessing upon her +came with all the mighty longing of a soul who loved absorbingly, it was +as if she were unable to bear it, and she turned and fled silently back +to her couch, creeping under the canvas, thrilled, frightened, shamed +and glad all in one. She closed her eyes and the swift tears of joy +came. He loved her! He loved her! How the thought thrilled her. How her +own heart leaped up to meet his love. The fact of it was all she could +contain for the time and it filled her with an ecstasy such as she had +never known before. She opened her eyes to the stars and they shone back +a great radiance of joy to her. The quiet darkness of the vast earth all +about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> her seemed suddenly to have become the sweetest spot she had +known. She had never thought there could be joy like this.</p> + +<p>Gradually she quieted the wild throbbing of her heart and tried to set +her thoughts in order. Perhaps she was taking too much for granted. +Perhaps he was talking of another girl, some one he had met the day +before. But yet it seemed as if there could be no doubt. There would not +be two girls lost out in that desert. There could not—and her heart +told her that he loved her. Could she trust her heart? Oh, the dearness +of it if it were true!</p> + +<p>Her face was burning too, with the sweet shame of having heard what was +not meant for her ears.</p> + +<p>Then came the flash of pain in the joy. He did not intend to tell her. +He meant to hide his love—and for her sake! And he was great enough to +do so. The man who could sacrifice the things that other men hold dear +to come out to the wilderness for the sake of a forgotten, half-savage +people, could sacrifice anything for what he considered right. This fact +loomed like a wall of adamant across the lovely way that joy had +revealed to her. Her heart fell with the thought that he was not to +speak of this to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> her,—and she knew that more than for anything else in +life, more than anything she had ever known, she longed to hear him +speak those words to her. A half resentment filled her that he had told +his secret to Another—what concerned her—and would not let her know.</p> + +<p>The heart searching went on, and now she came to the thorn-fact of the +whole revelation. There had been another reason besides care for herself +why he could not tell her of his love,—why he could not ask her to +share his life. She had not been accounted worthy. He had put it in +pleasant words and said she was unfitted, but he might as well have made +it plain and said how useless she would be in his life.</p> + +<p>The tears came now, tears of mortification, for Hazel Radcliffe had +never before in all her petted life been accounted unworthy for any +position. It was not that she considered at all the possibility of +accepting the position that was not to be offered her. Her startled mind +had not even reached so far; but her pride was hurt to think that any +one should think her unworthy.</p> + +<p>Then over the whole tumultuous state of mind would come the memory of +his voice throbbing with feeling as he said, "She is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> dear to me as my +own soul," and the joy of it would sweep everything else away.</p> + +<p>There was no more sleep to be had for her.</p> + +<p>The stars grew pale, and the rose dawn grew in the east. She presently +heard her companion return and replenish the fire, stirring about softly +among the dishes, and move away again, but she had turned her head away +that he might not see her face, and he evidently thought her still +sleeping.</p> + +<p>So she lay and tried to reason things out; tried to scold herself for +thinking his words applied to her; tried to recall her city life and +friends, and how utterly alien this man and his work would be to them; +tried to think of the new day when she would probably reach her friends +again and this new friend would be lost sight of; felt a sharp twinge of +pain at the thought; wondered if she could meet Milton Hamar and what +they would say to one another, and if any sort of comfortable relations +could ever be established between them again; and knew they could not. +Once again the great horror rolled over her at thought of his kiss. Then +came the startling thought that he had used almost the same words to her +that this man of the desert had used about her, and yet how infinitely +different! How tender and deep and true,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> and pure and high his face in +contrast to the look she had seen upon that handsome, evil face bent +over her! She covered her eyes and shuddered again, and entertained a +fleeting wish that she might stay forever here and not return to his +hated presence.</p> + +<p>Then back like a flood-tide of sunshine would come the thought of the +missionary and his love for her, and everything else would be +obliterated in the rapture it brought.</p> + +<p>And thus on rosy wings the morning dawned, a clean, straight sunrise.</p> + +<p>Hazel could hear the missionary stepping softly here and there preparing +breakfast, and knew he felt it time to be on the move. She must bestir +herself and speak, but her cheeks grew pink over the thought of it. She +kept waiting and trying to think how to say good-morning without a look +of guilty knowledge in her eyes. Presently she heard him call to Billy +and move away in the direction where the horse was eating his breakfast. +Then snatching her opportunity she slipped from under the canvas into +her green boudoir.</p> + +<p>But even here she found evidences of her wise guide's care, for standing +in front of the largest cedar were two tin cups of clear water and +beside them a small pocket soap-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>case and a clean folded handkerchief, +fine and white. He had done his best to supply her with toilet articles.</p> + +<p>Her heart leaped up again at his thoughtfulness. She dashed the water +into her glowing face, and buried it in the clean folds of the +handkerchief—his handkerchief. How wonderful that it should be so! How +had a mere commonplace bit of linen become so invested with the currents +of life as to give such joyful refreshment with a touch? The wonder of +it all was like a miracle. She had not known anything in life could be +like that.</p> + +<p>The great red cliff across the valley was touched with the morning sun +when she emerged from her green shelter, shyly conscious of the secret +that lay unrevealed between them.</p> + +<p>Their little camp was still in the shadow. The last star had disappeared +as if a hand had turned the lights low with a flash and revealed the +morning.</p> + +<p>She stood for an instant in the parting of the cedars, a hand on each +side holding back the boughs, looking forth from her retreat; and the +man advancing saw her and waited with bared head to do her reverence, a +great light of love in his eyes which he knew not was visible, but which +blinded the eyes of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> the watching girl, and made her cheeks grow rosier.</p> + +<p>The very air about them seemed charged with an electrical current. The +little commonplaces which they spoke sank deep into the heart of each +and lingered to bless the future. The glances of their eyes had many +meetings and lingered shyly on more intimate ground than the day before, +yet each had grown more silent. The tenderness of his voice was like a +benediction as he greeted her.</p> + +<p>He seated her on the canvas he had arranged freshly beside a bit of +green grass, and prepared to serve her like a queen. Indeed she wore a +queenly bearing, small and slender though she was, her golden hair +shining in the morning, and her eyes bright as the stars that had just +been paled by day.</p> + +<p>There were fried rabbits cooking in the tiny saucepan and corn bread was +toasting before the fire on two sharp sticks. She found to her surprise +that she was hungry, and that the breakfast he had prepared seemed a +most delicious feast.</p> + +<p>She grew secure in her consciousness that he did not know she had +guessed his secret, and let the joy of it all flow over her and envelop +her. Her laugh rang out musically over the plain, and he watched her +hungrily,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> delightedly, enjoying every minute of the companionship with +a kind of double joy because of the barren days that he was sure were to +come.</p> + +<p>Finally he broke away from the pleasant lingering with an exclamation, +for the sun was hastening upward and it was time they were on their way. +Hastily he packed away the things, she trying in her bungling +unaccustomedness to help and only giving sweet hindrance, with the +little white hands that thrilled him so wonderfully as they came near +with a plate or a cup, or a bit of corn bread that had been left out.</p> + +<p>He put her on the horse and they started on their way. Yet not once in +all the pleasant contact had he betrayed his secret, and Hazel began to +feel the burden of what she had found out weighing guiltily upon her +like a thing stolen which she would gladly replace but dared not. +Sometimes, as they rode along, he quietly talking as the day before, +pointing out some object of interest, or telling her some remarkable +story of his experiences, she would wonder if she had not been entirely +mistaken; heard wrong, maybe, or made more of the words than she should +have done. She grew to feel that he could not have meant her at all. And +then turning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> suddenly she would find his eyes upon her with a light in +them so tender, so yearning, that she would droop her own in confusion +and feel her heart beating wildly with the pleasure and the pain of it.</p> + +<p>About noon they came to a rain-water hole near which were three Indian +hogans. Brownleigh explained that he had come this way, a little out of +the shortest trail, hoping to get another horse so that they might +travel faster and reach the railroad before sundown.</p> + +<p>The girl's heart went suddenly heavy as he left her sitting on Billy +under a cottonwood tree while he went forward to find out if any one was +at home and whether they had a horse to spare. Of course she wanted to +find her friends and relieve their anxiety as soon as possible, but +there was something in the voice of the young missionary as he spoke of +hastening onward that seemed to build a wall between them. The pleasant +intercourse of the morning seemed drawing so quickly to a close: the +wonderful sympathy and interest between them pushed with a violent hand +out of her reach. She felt a choking sensation in her throat as if she +would like to put her head down on Billy's rough neck-locks and sob.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>She tried to reason with herself. It was but a little over twenty-four +hours since she first looked upon this stranger, and yet her heart was +bound to him in such a way that she was dreading their separation. How +could it be? Such things were not real. People always laughed at sudden +love affairs as if they were impossible, but her heart told her that it +was not merely hours by which they numbered their acquaintance. The soul +of this man had been revealed to her in that brief space of time as +another's might not have been in years. She dreaded the ending of this +companionship. It would be the end, of course. He had said it, and she +knew his words were true. His world was not her world, more the pity! He +would never give up his world, and he had said she was unfitted for his. +It was all too true—this world of rough, uncouth strangers, and wild +emptiness of beauty. But how she longed to have this day with him beside +her prolonged indefinitely!</p> + +<p>The vision would fade of course when she got back into the world again, +and things would assume their normal proportions very likely. But just +now she admitted to herself that she did not want to get back. She would +be entirely content if she might wan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>der thus with him in the desert for +the rest of her natural life.</p> + +<p>He came back to her presently accompanied by an Indian boy carrying an +iron pot and some fresh mutton. Hazel watched them as they built a fire, +arranged the pot full of water to boil, and placed the meat to roast. +The missionary was making corn cake which presently was baking in the +ashes, and giving forth a savoury odour.</p> + +<p>An Indian squaw appeared in the doorway of one of the hogans, her baby +strapped to her back, and watched her with great round wondering eyes. +Hazel smiled at the little papoose, and it soon dimpled into an +answering smile. Then she discovered that the missionary was watching +them both, his heart in his eyes, a strange wonderful joy in his face, +and her heart-beats quickened. She was pleasing him! It was then as she +smiled back at the child of the forest that she discovered an interest +of her own in these neglected people of his. She could not know that the +little dark-skinned baby whom she had noticed would from this time forth +become the special tender object of care from the missionary, just +because she had noticed it.</p> + +<p>They had a merry meal, though not so in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>timate as the others had been; +for a group of Indian women and children huddled outside the nearest +hogan watching their every move with wide staring eyes, and stolid but +interested countenances; and the little boy hovered not far away to +bring anything they might need. It was all pleasant but Hazel felt +impatient of the interruption when their time together was now so short. +She was glad when, mounted on Billy again, and her companion on a rough +little Indian pony with wicked eyes, they rode away together into the +sunshine of the afternoon.</p> + +<p>But now it seemed but a breathless space before they would come into the +presence of people, for the two horses made rapid time, and the +distances flew past them mile by mile, the girl feeling each moment more +shy and embarrassed, and conscious of the words she had overheard in the +early morning.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her a burden she could not carry away unknown upon her soul +and yet how could she let him know?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<h3>RENUNCIATION</h3> + + +<p>They had entered a strip of silvery sand, about two miles wide, and rode +almost in silence, for a singular shyness had settled upon them.</p> + +<p>The girl was conscious of his eyes upon her with a kind of tender +yearning as if he would impress the image on his mind for the time when +she would be with him no more. Each had a curious sense of understanding +the other's thoughts, and needing no words. But as they neared a great +rustling stretch of corn he looked at her keenly again and spoke:</p> + +<p>"You are very tired, I'm sure." It was not a question but she lifted her +eyes to deny it, and a flood-tide of sweet colour swept over the cheeks. +"I knew it," he said, searching her raised eyes. "We must stop and rest +after we have passed through this corn. There is a spot under some trees +where you will be sheltered from the sun. This corn lasts only a mile or +so more, and after you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> have rested we will have only a short distance +to go"—he caught his breath as though the words hurt him—"our journey +is almost over!" They rode in silence through the corn, but when it was +passed and they were seated beneath the trees the girl lifted her eyes +to him filled with unspeakable things.</p> + +<p>"I haven't known how to thank you," she said earnestly, the tears almost +in evidence.</p> + +<p>"Don't, please!" he said gently. "It has been good to me to be with you. +How good you never can know." He paused and then looked keenly at her.</p> + +<p>"Did you rest well last night, your first night under the stars? Did you +hear the coyotes, or feel at all afraid?"</p> + +<p>Her colour fled, and she dropped her glance to Billy's neck, while her +heart throbbed painfully.</p> + +<p>He saw how disturbed she was.</p> + +<p>"You were afraid," he charged gently. "Why didn't you call? I was close +at hand all the time. What frightened you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was nothing!" she said evasively. "It was only for a minute."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, please!" his voice compelled her.</p> + +<p>"It was just for a minute," she said again, speaking rapidly and trying +to hide her embarrassment. "I woke and thought I heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> talking and you +were not in sight; but it was not long before you came back with an +armful of wood, and I saw it was almost morning."</p> + +<p>Her cheeks were rosy, as she lifted her clear eyes to meet his searching +gaze and tried to face him steadily, but he looked into the very depths +of her soul and saw the truth. She felt her courage going from her, and +tried to turn her gaze carelessly away, but could not.</p> + +<p>At last he said in a low voice full of feeling:</p> + +<p>"You heard me?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes, which he had held with his look, wavered, faltered, and +drooped. "I was afraid," he said as her silence confirmed his +conviction. "I heard some one stirring. I looked and thought I saw you +going back to your couch." There was grave self-reproach in his tone, +but no reproach for her. Nevertheless her heart burned with shame and +her eyes filled with tears. She hid her glowing face in her hands and +cried out:</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry. I did not mean to be listening. I thought from the tone +of your voice you were in trouble. I was afraid some one had attacked +you, and perhaps I could do something to help——"</p> + +<p>"You poor child!" he said deeply moved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> "How unpardonable of me to +frighten you. It is my habit of talking aloud when I am alone. The great +loneliness out here has cultivated it. I did not realize that I might +disturb you. What must you think of me? What <i>can</i> you think?"</p> + +<p>"Think!" she burst forth softly. "I think you are all wrong to try to +keep a thing like that to yourself!"</p> + +<p>And then the full meaning of what she had said broke upon her, and her +face crimsoned with embarrassment.</p> + +<p>But he was looking at her with an eager light in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he asked. "Won't you please explain?"</p> + +<p>Hazel was sitting now with her face entirely turned away, and the soft +hair blowing concealingly about her burning cheeks. She felt as if she +must get up and run away into the desert and end this terrible +conversation. She was getting in deeper and deeper every minute.</p> + +<p>"Please!" said the gentle, firm voice.</p> + +<p>"Why, I—think—a—a—woman—has a right—to know—a thing like that!" +she faltered desperately.</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked the voice again after a pause.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because—she—she—might not ever—she might not ever know there was +such a love for a woman in the world!" she stammered, still with her +head turned quite away from him. She felt that she could never turn +around and face this wonderful man of the desert again. She wished the +ground would open and show her some comfortable way of escape.</p> + +<p>The pause this time was long, so long that it frightened her, but she +dared not turn and look at him. If she had done so she would have seen +that he was sitting with bowed head for some time, in deep meditation, +and that at last he lifted his glance to the sky again as if to ask a +swift permission. Then he spoke.</p> + +<p>"A man has no right to tell a woman he loves her when he cannot ask her +to marry him."</p> + +<p>"That," said the girl, her throat throbbing painfully, "<i>that</i> has +nothing to do with it. I—was—not talking about—marrying! But I think +she has a right to know. It would—make a difference all her life!" Her +throat was dry and throbbing. The words seemed to stick as she tried to +utter them, yet they would be said. She longed to hide her burning face +in some cool shelter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> and get away from this terrible talk, but she +could only sit rigidly quiet, her fingers fastened tensely in the coarse +grass at her side.</p> + +<p>There was a longer silence now, and still she dared not look at the man.</p> + +<p>A great eagle appeared in the heaven above and sailed swiftly and +strongly towards a mountain peak. Hazel had a sense of her own +smallness, and of the fact that her words had made an exquisite anguish +for the soul of her companion, yet she could not think of anything to +say that would better matters. At last he spoke, and his voice was like +one performing a sad and sacred rite for one tenderly beloved:</p> + +<p>"And now that you know I love you can it possibly make any difference to +you?"</p> + +<p>Hazel tried three times to answer, but every time her trembling lips +would frame no words. Then suddenly her face went into her hands and the +tears came. She felt as if a benediction had been laid upon her head, +and the glory of it was greater than she could bear.</p> + +<p>The man watched her, his arms longing to enfold her and soothe her +agitation, but he would not. His heart was on fire with the sweetness +and the pain of the present mo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>ment, yet he could not take advantage of +their situation upon the lonely plain, and desecrate the beauty of the +trust she had put upon him.</p> + +<p>Then her strength came again, and she raised her head and looked into +his waiting eyes with a trembling, shy glance, yet true and earnest.</p> + +<p>"It will make a difference—to me!" she said. "I shall never feel quite +the same towards life again because I know there is such a wonderful man +in the world."</p> + +<p>She had fine control of her voice now, and was holding back the tears. +Her manner of the world was coming to her aid. He must not see how much +this was to her, how very much. She put out a little cold hand and laid +it timidly in his big brown one, and he held it a moment and looked down +at it in great tenderness, closed his fingers over it in a strong clasp, +then laid it gently back in her lap as though it were too precious to +keep. Her heart thrilled and thrilled again at his touch.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said simply, a great withdrawing in his tone. "But I +cannot see how you can think well of me. I am an utter stranger to you. +I have no right to talk of such things to you."</p> + +<p>"You did not tell me," answered Hazel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> "You told—God." Her voice was +slow and low with awe. "I only overheard. It was my fault—but—I am +not—sorry. It was a great—thing to hear!"</p> + +<p>He watched her shy dignity as she talked, her face drooping and half +turned away. She was exquisitely beautiful in her confusion. His whole +spirit yearned towards hers.</p> + +<p>"I feel like a monster," he said suddenly. "You know I love you, but you +do not understand how, in this short time even, you have filled my life, +my whole being. And yet I may not ever try or hope to win your love in +return. It must seem strange to you——"</p> + +<p>"I think I understand," she said in a low voice; "you spoke of all that +in the night—you know." It seemed as if she shrank from hearing it +again.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me explain it thoroughly to you?"</p> + +<p>"If—you think best." She turned her face away and watched the eagle, +now a mere speck in the distance.</p> + +<p>"You see it is this way. I am not free to do as I might wish—as other +men are free. I have consecrated my life to the service of God in this +place. I know—I knew when I came here—that it was no place to bring a +woman. There are few who could stand the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> life. It is filled with +privations and hardships. They are inevitable. You are used to tender +care and luxury. No man could ask a sacrifice like that of a woman he +loved. He would not be a man if he did. It is not like marrying a girl +who has felt the call herself, and loves to give her life to the work. +That would be a different matter. But a man has no right to expect it of +a woman——" he paused to find the right words and Hazel in a small +still voice of dignity reminded him:</p> + +<p>"You are forgetting one of the reasons."</p> + +<p>"Forgetting?" he turned towards her wonderingly and their eyes met for +just an instant, then hers were turned away again.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she went on inscrutably. "You thought I—was not—fit!"</p> + +<p>She was pulling up bits of green from the ground beside her. She felt a +frightened flutter in her throat. It was the point of the thorn that had +remained in her heart. It was not in nature for her not to speak of it, +yet when it was spoken she felt how it might be misunderstood.</p> + +<p>But the missionary made answer in a kind of cry like some hurt creature.</p> + +<p>"Not fit! Oh, my dear! You do not understand——"</p> + +<p>There was that in his tone that extracted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> the last bit of rankling +thorn from Hazel's heart and brought the quick blood to her cheeks +again.</p> + +<p>With a light laugh that echoed with relief and a deep new joy which she +dared not face as yet, she sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I understand," she said gaily, "and it's all true. I'm not a +bit fit for a missionary. But oughtn't we to be moving on? I'm quite +rested now."</p> + +<p>With a face that was grave to sadness he acquiesced, fastening the +canvas in place on the saddle, and putting her on her horse with swift, +silent movements. Then as she gathered up the reins he lingered for an +instant and taking the hem of her gown in his fingers he stooped and +touched his lips lightly, reverently to the cloth.</p> + +<p>There was something so humble, so pathetic, so self-forgetful in the +homage that the tears sprang to the girl's eyes and she longed to put +her arms about his neck and draw his face close to hers and tell him how +her heart was throbbing in sympathy.</p> + +<p>But he had not even asked for her love, and there must be silence +between them. He had shown that it was the only way. Her own reserve +closed her lips and commanded that she show no sign.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now they rode on silently for the most part, the horses' hoofs +beating rapidly in unison. Now and then a rabbit scuttled on ahead of +them or a horned toad hopped out of their path. Short brown lizards +palpitated on bits of wood along the way; now and then a bright green +one showed itself and disappeared. Once they came upon a village of +prairie dogs and paused to watch their antics for a moment. It was then +as they turned away that she noticed the bit of green he had stuck in +his buttonhole and recognized it for the same that she had played with +as they talked by the wayside. Her eyes charged him with having picked +it up afterwards and his eyes replied with the truth, but they said no +words about it. They did not need words.</p> + +<p>It was not until they reached the top of a sloping hill, and suddenly +came upon the view of the valley with its winding track gleaming in the +late afternoon sun, the little wooden station and few cabins dotted here +and there, that she suddenly realized that their journey together was at +an end, for this was the place from which she had started two days +before.</p> + +<p>He had no need to tell her. She saw the smug red gleam of their own +private car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> standing on the track not far away. She was brought face to +face with the fact that her friends were down there in the valley and +all the stiff conventionalities of her life stood ready to build a wall +between this man and herself. They would sweep him out of her life as if +she had never met him, never been found and saved by him, and carry her +away to their tiresome round of parties and pleasure excursions again.</p> + +<p>She lifted her eyes with a frightened, almost pleading glance as if for +a moment she would ask him to turn with her back to the desert again. +She found his eyes upon her in a long deep gaze of farewell, as one +looks upon the face of a beloved soon to be parted from earth. She could +not bear the blinding of the love she saw there, and her own heart +leaped up anew to meet it in answering love.</p> + +<p>But it was only this one flash of a glance they had, when they were +aware of voices and the sound of horses' hoofs, and almost instantly +around the clump of sage-brush below the trail there swept into sight +three horsemen, Shag Bunce, an Indian, and Hazel's brother. They were +talking excitedly, and evidently starting out on a new search.</p> + +<p>The missionary with quick presence of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> mind started the horses on, +shouting out a greeting, and was answered with instant cheers from the +approaching party, followed by shots from Shag Bunce in signal that the +lost was found; shots which immediately seemed to echo from the valley +and swell into shouting and rejoicing.</p> + +<p>Then all was confusion at once.</p> + +<p>The handsome, reckless brother with gold hair like Hazel's embraced her, +talking loud and eagerly; showing how he had done this and that to find +her; blaming the country, the horses, the guides, the roads; and paying +little heed to the missionary who instantly dropped behind to give him +his place. It seemed but a second more before they were surrounded with +eager people all talking at once, and Hazel, distressed that her brother +gave so little attention to the man who had saved her, sought thrice to +make some sort of an introduction, but the brother was too much taken up +with excitement, and with scolding his sister for having gotten herself +lost, to take it in.</p> + +<p>Then out came the father, who, it appeared, had been up two nights on +the search, and had been taking a brief nap. His face was pale and +haggard. Brownleigh liked the look of his eyes as he caught sight of +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> daughter, and his face lighted as he saw her spring into his arms, +crying: "Daddy! Daddy! I'm so sorry I frightened you!"</p> + +<p>Behind him, tall and disapproving, with an I-told-you-so in her eye, +stood Aunt Maria.</p> + +<p>"Headstrong girl," she murmured severely. "You have given us all two +terrible days!" and she pecked Hazel's cheek stiffly. But no one heard +her in the excitement.</p> + +<p>Behind Aunt Maria Hazel's maid wrung her hands and wept in a kind of +hysterical joy over her mistress' return, and back of her in the gloom +of the car vestibule loomed the dark countenance of Hamar with an angry, +red mark across one cheek. He did not look particularly anxious to be +there. The missionary turned from his evil face with repulsion.</p> + +<p>In the confusion and delight over the return of the lost one the man of +the desert prepared to slip away, but just as he was about to mount his +pony Hazel turned and saw him.</p> + +<p>"Daddy, come over here and speak to the man who found me and brought me +safely back again," she said, dragging her father eagerly across the +platform to where the missionary stood.</p> + +<p>The father came readily enough and Hazel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> talked rapidly, her eyes +shining, her cheeks like twin roses, telling in a breath of the horrors +and darkness and rescue, and the thoughtfulness of her stranger-rescuer.</p> + +<p>Mr. Radcliffe came forward with outstretched hand to greet him, and the +missionary took off his hat and stood with easy grace to shake hands. He +was not conscious then of the fire of eyes upon him, cold society stares +from Aunt Maria, Hamar and young Radcliffe, as if to say, How dared he +presume to expect recognition for doing what was a simple duty! He noted +only the genuine heartiness in the face of the father as he thanked him +for what he had done. Then, like the practical man of the world that he +was, Mr. Radcliffe reached his hand into his pocket and drew out his +check book remarking, as if it were a matter of course, that he wished +to reward his daughter's rescuer handsomely, and inquiring his name as +he pulled off the cap from his fountain pen.</p> + +<p>Brownleigh stood back stiffly with a heightened colour, and an almost +haughty look upon his face.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said coldly, "I could not think of taking anything for a +mere act of humanity. It was a pleasure to be able to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> serve your +daughter," and he swung himself easily into the saddle.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Radcliffe was unaccustomed to such independence in those who +served him and he began to bluster. Hazel, however, her cheeks fairly +blazing, her eyes filled with mortification, put a hand upon her +father's arm.</p> + +<p>"Daddy, you don't understand," she said earnestly; "my new friend is a +clergyman—he is a missionary, daddy!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, daughter! You don't understand these matters. Just wait until +I am through. I cannot let a deed like this go unrewarded. A missionary, +did you say? Then if you won't take anything for yourself take it for +your church; it's all the same in the end," and he gave a knowing wink +towards the missionary whose anger was rising rapidly, and who was +having much ado to keep a meek and quiet spirit.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" he said again coldly, "not for any such service."</p> + +<p>"But I mean it!" grumbled the elder man much annoyed. "I want to donate +something to a cause that employs a man like you. It is a good to the +country at large to have such men patrolling the deserts. I never +thought there was much excuse for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> Home Missions, but after this I shall +give it my hearty approval. It makes the country safer for tourists. +Come, tell me your name and I'll write out a check. I'm in earnest."</p> + +<p>"Send any contribution you wish to make to the general fund," said +Brownleigh with dignity, mentioning the address of the New York Board +under whose auspices he was sent out, "but don't mention me, please." +Then he lifted his hat once more and would have ridden away but for the +distress in Hazel's eyes.</p> + +<p>Just then the brother created a digression by rushing up to his father. +"Dad, Aunt Maria wants to know if we can't go on, with this train. It's +in sight now, and she is nearly crazy to get on the move. There's +nothing to hinder our being hitched on, is there? The agent has the +order. Do, dad, let's get out of this. I'm sick of it, and Aunt Maria is +unbearable!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly, certainly, Arthur, speak to the agent. We'll go on at +once. Excuse me, Mr.—— Ah, what did you say was the name? I'm sorry +you feel that way about it; though it's very commendable, very +commendable, I'm sure. I'll send to New York at once. Fifth Avenue, did +you say? I'll speak a good word for you. Excuse me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'The'">the</ins> agent is +beckoning me. Well, good-bye, and thank you again! Daughter, you better +get right into the car. The train is almost here, and they may have no +time to spare," and Mr. Radcliffe hastened up the platform after his son +and the agent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IX</h2> + +<h3>"FOR REMEMBRANCE"</h3> + + +<p>Hazel turned her troubled eyes to the face of the man pleadingly. "My +father does not understand," she said apologetically. "He is very +grateful and he is used to thinking that money can always show +gratitude."</p> + +<p>Brownleigh was off his horse beside her, his hat off, before she had +finished speaking.</p> + +<p>"Don't, I beg of you, think of it again," he pleaded, his eyes devouring +her face. "It is all right. I quite understand. And you understand too, +I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," she said, lifting her eyes full of the love she had +not dared to let him see. She was fidgetting with her rings as she spoke +and looked back anxiously at the onrushing train. Her brother, hurrying +down the platform to their car, called to her to hasten as he passed +her, and she knew she would be allowed but a moment more. She caught her +breath and looked at the tall missionary wistfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will let me leave something of my own with you, just for +remembrance?" she asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>His eyes grew tender and misty.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said, his voice suddenly husky, "though I shall need +nothing to remember you by. I can never forget you." The memory of that +look of his eyes was meat and drink to her soul during many days that +followed, but she met it now steadily, not even flushing at her open +recognition of his love.</p> + +<p>"This is mine," she said. "My father bought it for me when I was +sixteen. I have worn it ever since. He will never care." She slipped a +ring from her finger and dropped it in his palm.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up there, sister!" called young Radcliffe once more from the car +window, and looking up, Brownleigh saw the evil face of Hamar peering +from another window.</p> + +<p>Hazel turned, struggling to keep back the rising tears. "I must go," she +gasped.</p> + +<p>Brownleigh flung the reins of the pony to a young Indian who stood near +and turning walked beside her, conscious the while of the frowning faces +watching them from the car windows.</p> + +<p>"And I have nothing to give you," he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> to her in a low tone, deeply +moved at what she had done.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me have the little book?" she asked shyly.</p> + +<p>His eyes lit with a kind of glory as he felt in his pocket for his +Bible.</p> + +<p>"It is the best thing I own," he said. "May it bring you the same joy +and comfort it has often brought to me." And he put the little book in +her hand.</p> + +<p>The train backed crashing up and jarred into the private car with a +snarling, grating sound. Brownleigh put Hazel on the steps and helped +her up. Her father was hurrying towards them and some train hands were +making a great fuss shouting directions. There was just an instant for a +hand-clasp, and then he stepped back to the platform, and her father +swung himself on, as the train moved off. She stood on the top step of +the car, her eyes upon his face, and his upon hers, his hat lifted in +homage, and renunciation upon his brow as though it were a crown.</p> + +<p>It was the voice of her Aunt Maria that recalled her to herself, while +the little station with its primitive setting, its straggling onlookers +and its one great man, slipped past and was blurred into the landscape +by the tears which she could not keep back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hazel! For pity's sake! Don't stand mooning and gazing at that rude +creature any longer. We'll have you falling off the train and being +dramatically rescued again for the delectation of the natives. I'm sure +you've made disturbance enough for one trip, and you'd better come in +and try to make amends to poor Mr. Hamar for what you have made him +suffer with your foolish persistence in going off on a wild western pony +that ran away. You haven't spoken to Mr. Hamar yet. Perhaps you don't +know that he risked his life for you trying to catch your horse and was +thrown and kicked in the face by his own wretched little beast, and left +lying unconscious for hours on the desert, until an Indian came along +and picked him up and helped him back to the station." (As a matter of +fact Milton Hamar had planned and enacted this touching drama with the +help of a passing Indian, when he found that Hazel was gone, leaving an +ugly whip mark on his cheek which must be explained to the family.) "He +may bear that dreadful scar for life! He will think you an ungrateful +girl if you don't go at once and make your apologies."</p> + +<p>For answer Hazel, surreptitiously brushing away the tears, swept past +her aunt and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> locked herself into her own little private stateroom.</p> + +<p>She rushed eagerly to the window which was partly open, guarded with a +screen, and pressed her face against the upper part of the glass. The +train had described a curve across the prairie, and the station was +still visible, though far away. She was sure she could see the tall +figure of her lover standing with hat in hand watching her as she passed +from his sight.</p> + +<p>With quick impulse she caught up a long white crepe scarf that lay on +her berth, and snatching the screen from the window fluttered the scarf +out to the wind. Almost instantly a flutter of white came from the +figure on the platform, and her heart quickened with joy. They had sent +a message from heart to heart across the wide space of the plains, and +the wireless telegraphy of hearts was established. Great tears rushed to +blot the last flutter of white from the receding landscape, and then a +hill loomed brilliant and shifting, and in a moment more shut out the +sight of station and dim group and Hazel knew that she was back in the +world of commonplace things once more, with only a memory for her +company, amid a background of unsympathetic relatives.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> + +<p>She made her toilet in a leisurely way, for she dreaded to have to talk +as she knew she would, and dreaded still more to meet Hamar. But she +knew she must go and tell her father of her experiences, and presently +she came out to them fresh and beautiful, with eyes but the brighter for +her tears, and a soft wild-rose flush on her wind-browned cheeks that +made her beauty all the sweeter.</p> + +<p>They clamoured at once, of course, for all the details of her +experience, and began by rehearsing once more how hard Mr. Hamar had +tried to save her from her terrible plight, risking his life to stop her +horse. Hazel said nothing to this, but one steady clear look at the +disfigured face of the man who had made them believe all this was the +only recognition she gave of his would-be heroism. In that look she +managed to show her utter disbelief and contempt, though her Aunt Maria +and perhaps even her father and brother thought her gratitude too deep +for utterance before them all.</p> + +<p>The girl passed over the matter of the runaway with a brief word, saying +that the pony had made up his mind to run, and she had lost the bridle, +which of course explained her inability to control him. She made light +of her ride, however, before her aunt, and told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> the whole story most +briefly until she came to the canyon and the howl of the coyotes. She +was most warm in praise of her rescuer, though here too she used few +words and avoided any description of the ride back, merely saying that +the missionary had shown himself a gentleman in every particular, and +had given her every care and attention that her own family could have +done under the circumstances, making the way pleasant with stories of +the country and the people. She said that he was a man of unusual +culture and refinement, she thought, and yet most earnestly devoted to +his work, and then she abruptly changed the subject by asking about +certain plans for their further trip and seeming to have no further +interest in what had befallen her; but all the while she was conscious +of the piercing glance and frowning visage of Milton Hamar watching her, +and she knew that as soon as opportunity offered itself he would +continue the hateful interview begun on the plain. She decided mentally +that she would avoid any such interview if possible, and to that end +excused herself immediately after lunch had been served, saying she +needed a good sleep to make up for the long ride she had taken.</p> + +<p>But it was not to sleep that she gave her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>self when she was at last able +to take refuge in her little apartment again. She looked out at the +passing landscape, beautiful with varied scenery, all blurred with tears +as she thought of how she had but a little while before been out in its +wide free distance with one who loved her. How that thought thrilled and +thrilled her, and brought her a fresh joy each time it repeated itself! +She wondered over the miracle of it. She never had dreamed that love was +like this. She scarce believed it now. She was excited, stirred to the +depths by her unusual experience, put beyond the normal by the +strangeness of the surroundings that had brought this man into her +acquaintance; so said common sense, and warned her that to-morrow, or +the next day, or at most next week, the thrill would all be gone and she +would think of the stranger missionary as one curious detail of her +Western trip. But her heart resented this, and down, deep down, +something else told her this strange new joy would not vanish, that it +would live throughout her life, and that whatever in the years came to +her, she would always know underneath all that this had been the real +thing, the highest fullness of a perfect love for her.</p> + +<p>As the miles lengthened and her thoughts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> grew sad with the distance, +she drew from its hiding place the little book he had given her at +parting. She had slipped it into the breast pocket of her riding habit +as she received it, for she shrank from having her aunt's keen eyes +detect it and question her. She had been too much engrossed with the +thought of separation to remember it till now.</p> + +<p>She touched it tenderly, shyly, as though it were a part of himself; the +limp, worn covers, the look of constant use, all made it inexpressibly +dear. She had not known before that an inanimate object, not beautiful +in itself, could bring such tender love.</p> + +<p>Opening to the flyleaf, there in clear, bold writing was his name, "John +Chadwick Brownleigh," and for the first time she realized that there had +passed between them no word of her name. Strange that they two should +have come so close as to need no names one with the other. But her heart +leaped up with joy that she knew his name, and her eyes dwelt yearningly +upon the written characters. John! How well the name fitted him. It +seemed that she would have known it was his even if she had not seen it +written first in one of his possessions. Then she fell to meditating +whether he would have any way of discovering her name. Perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> her +father had given it to him, or the station agent might have known to +whom their car belonged. Of course he would when he received the +orders,—or did they give orders about cars only by numbers? She wished +she dared ask some one. Perhaps she could find out in some way how those +orders were written. And yet all the time she had an instinctive feeling +that had he known her name a thousand times he would not have +communicated with her. She knew by that exalted look of renunciation +upon his face that no longing whatsoever could make him overstep the +bounds which he had laid down between her soul and his.</p> + +<p>With a sigh she opened the little book, and it fell apart of itself to +the place where he had read the night before, the page still marked by +the little silk cord he had placed so carefully. She could see him now +with the firelight flickering on his face, and the moonlight silvering +his head, that strong tender look upon his face. How wonderful he had +been!</p> + +<p>She read the psalm over now herself, the first time in her life she had +ever consciously given herself to reading the Bible. But there was a +charm about the words that gave them new meaning, the charm of his voice +as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> heard them in memory and watched again his face change and stir +at the words as he read.</p> + +<p>The day waned and the train flew on, but the landscape had lost its +attraction now for the girl. She pleaded weariness and remained apart +from the rest, dreaming over her wonderful experience, and thinking new +deep thoughts of wonder, regret, sadness, joy, and when night fell and +the great moon rose lighting the world again, she knelt beside her car +window, looking long into the wide clear sky, the sky that covered him +and herself; the moon that looked down upon them both. Then switching on +the electric light over her berth she read the psalm once more, and fell +asleep with her cheek upon the little book and in her heart a prayer for +him.</p> + +<p>John Brownleigh, standing upon the station platform, watching the train +disappear behind the foot-hills, experienced, for the first time since +his coming to Arizona, a feeling of the utmost desolation. Lonely he had +been, and homesick, sometimes, but always with a sense that he was +master of it all, and that with the delight of his work it would pass +and leave him free and glad in the power wherewith his God had called +him to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> service. But now he felt that with this train the light of +life was going from him, and all the glory of Arizona and the world in +which he had loved to be was darkened on her account. For a moment or +two his soul cried out that it could not be, that he must mount some +winged steed and speed after her whom his heart had enthroned. Then the +wall of the inevitable appeared before his eager eyes, and Reason +crowded close to bring him to his senses. He turned away to hide the +emotion in his face. The stolid Indian boy, who had been holding both +horses, received his customary smile and pleasant word, but the +missionary gave them more by habit than thought this time. His soul had +entered its Gethsemane, and his spirit was bowed within him.</p> + +<p>As soon as he could get away from the people about the station who had +their little griefs and joys and perplexities to tell him, he mounted +Billy, and leading the borrowed pony rode away into the desert, +retracing the way they had come together but a short time before.</p> + +<p>Billy was tired and walked slowly, drooping his head, and his master was +sad at heart, so there was no cheerful converse between them as they +travelled along.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not far they went, only back to the edge of the corn, where they +had made their last stop of the journey together a few short hours +before, and here the missionary halted and gave the beasts their freedom +for a respite and refreshment. He himself felt too weary of soul to go +further.</p> + +<p>He took out the ring, the little ring that was too small to go more than +half-way on his smallest finger, the ring she had taken warm and +flashing from her white hand and laid within his palm!</p> + +<p>The sun low down in the west stole into the heart of the jewel and sent +its glory in a million multicoloured facets, piercing his soul with the +pain and the joy of his love. He cast himself down upon the grass where +she had sat, where, with his eyes closed and his lips upon the jewel she +had worn, he met his enemy and fought his battle out.</p> + +<p>Wearied at last with the contest, he slept. The sun went down, the moon +made itself manifest once more, and when the night went coursing down +its way of silver, two jewels softly gleamed in its radiance, the one +upon his finger where he had pressed her ring, the other from the grass +beside him. With a curious wonder he put forth his hand to the second +and found it was the topaz set in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> handle of her whip which she had +dropped and forgotten when they sat together and talked by the way. He +seized it eagerly now, and gathered it to him. It seemed almost a +message of comfort from her he loved. It was something tangible, this, +and the ring, to show him he had not dreamed her coming; she had been +real, and she had wanted him to tell her of his love, had said it would +make a difference all the rest of her life.</p> + +<p>He remembered that somewhere he had read or heard a great man say that +to be worthy of a great love one must be able to do without it. Here +now, then, he would prove his love by doing without. He stood with +uplifted face, transfigured in the light of the brilliant night, with +the look of exalted self-surrender, but only his heart communed that +night, for there were no words on his dumb lips to express the fullness +of his abnegation.</p> + +<p>Then forth upon his way he went, his battle fought, the stronger for it, +to be a staff for other men to lean upon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>X</h2> + +<h3>HIS MOTHER</h3> + + +<p>Deserts and mountains remain, duties crowd and press, hearts ache but +the world rushes on. The weeks that followed showed these two that a +great love is eternal.</p> + +<p>Brownleigh did not try to put the thought of it out of his life, but +rather let it glorify the common round. Day after day passed and he went +from post to post, from hogan to mesa, and back to his shanty again, +always with the thought of her companionship, and found it sweet. Never +had he been less cheery when he met his friends, though there was a +quiet dignity, a tender reserve behind it all that a few discerning ones +perceived. They said at the Fort that he was losing flesh, but if so, he +was gaining muscle. His lean brown arms were never stronger, and his +fine strong face was never sad when any one was by. It was only in the +night-time alone upon the moonlit desert, or in his little quiet +dwelling place when he talked with his Father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> and told all the +loneliness and heartache. His people found him more sympathetic, more +painstaking, more tireless than ever before, and the work prospered +under his hand.</p> + +<p>The girl in the city deliberately set herself to forget.</p> + +<p>The first few days after she left him had been a season of ecstatic joy +mingled with deep depression, as she alternately meditated upon the fact +of a great love, or faced its impossibility.</p> + +<p>She had scorched Milton Hamar with her glance of aversion, and avoided +him constantly even in the face of protest from her family, until he had +made excuse and left the party at Pasadena. There, too, Aunt Maria had +relieved them of her annoying interference, and the return trip taken by +the southern route had been an unmolested time for meditation for the +girl. She became daily more and more dissatisfied with herself and her +useless, ornamental life. Some days she read the little book, and other +days she shut it away and tried to get back to her former life, telling +herself it was useless to attempt to change herself. She had found that +the little book gave her a deep unrest and a sense that life held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +graver, sweeter things than just living to please one's self. She began +to long for home, and the summer round of gaieties, with which to fill +the emptiness of her heart.</p> + +<p>As the summer advanced there was almost a recklessness sometimes about +the way she planned to have a good time every minute; yet in the quiet +of her own room there would always come back the yearning that had been +awakened in the desert and would not be silenced.</p> + +<p>Sometimes when the memory of that great deep love she had heard +expressed for herself came over her, the bitter tears would come to her +eyes and one thought would throb through her consciousness: "Not worthy! +Not worthy!" He had not thought her fit to be his wife. Her father and +her world would think it quite otherwise. They would count him unworthy +to mate with her, an heiress, the pet of society; he a man who had given +up his life for a whim, a fad, a fanatical fancy! But she knew it was +not so. She knew him to be a man of all men. She knew it was true that +she was not such a woman as a man like that could fitly wed, and the +thought galled her constantly.</p> + +<p>She tried to accustom herself to think of him as a pleasant experience, +a friend who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> might have been if circumstances with them both had been +different; she tried to tell herself that it was a passing fancy with +them which both would forget; and she tried with all her heart to +forget, even locking away the precious little book and trying to forget +it too.</p> + +<p>And then, one day in late summer, she went with a motoring party through +New England; as frolicsome and giddy a party as could be found among New +York society transferred for the summer to the world of Nature. There +was to be a dance or a house party or something of the sort at the end +of the drive. Hazel scarcely knew, and cared less. She was becoming +utterly weary of her butterfly life.</p> + +<p>The day was hot and dusty, Indian summer intensified. They had got out +of their way through a mistake of the chauffeur, and suddenly just on +the edge of a tiny quaint little village the car broke down and refused +to go on without a lengthy siege of coaxing and petting.</p> + +<p>The members of the party, powdered with dust and in no very pleasant +frame of mind from the delay, took refuge at the village inn, an +old-time hostelry close to the roadside, with wide, brick-paved, +white-pillared piazza across the front, and a mysterious hedged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> garden +at the side. There were many plain wooden rockers neatly adorned with +white crash on the piazza, and one or two late summer boarders loitering +about with knitting work or book. The landlord brought cool tinkling +glasses of water and rich milk from the spring-house, and they dropped +into the chairs to wait while the men of the party gave assistance to +the chauffeur in patching up the car.</p> + +<p>Hazel sank wearily into her chair and sipped the milk unhungrily. She +wished she had not come; wished the day were over, and that she might +have planned something more interesting; wished she had chosen different +people to be of her party; and idly watched a white hen with yellow kid +boots and a coral comb in her nicely groomed hair picking daintily about +the green under the oak trees that shaded the street. She listened to +the drone of the bees in the garden near by, the distant whetting of a +scythe, the monotonous whang of a steam thresher not far away, the happy +voices of children, and thought how empty a life in this village would +be; almost as dreary and uninteresting as living in a desert—and then +suddenly she caught a name and the pink flew into her cheeks and memory +set her heart athrob.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was the landlord talking to a lingering summer boarder, a quiet, +gray-haired woman who sat reading at the end of the piazza.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Norton, so you're goin' to leave us next week. Sorry to hear +it. Don't seem nat'ral 'thout you clear through October. Ca'c'late +you're comin' back to Granville in the spring?"</p> + +<p>Granville! Granville! Where had she heard of Granville? Ah! She knew +instantly. It was his old home! His mother lived there! But then of +course it might have been another Granville. She wasn't even sure what +state they were in now, New Hampshire or Vermont. They had been wavering +about on the state line several times that day, and she never paid +attention to geography.</p> + +<p>Then the landlord raised his voice again.</p> + +<p>He was gazing across the road where a white colonial house, white-fenced +with pickets like clean sugar frosting, nestled in the luscious grass, +green and clean and fresh, and seeming utterly apart from the soil and +dust of the road, as if nothing wearisome could ever enter there. +Brightly there bloomed a border of late flowers, double asters, zinnias, +peonies, with a flame of scarlet poppies breaking into the smoke-like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +blue of larkspurs and bachelor buttons, as it neared the house. Hazel +had not noticed it until now and she almost cried out with pleasure over +the splendour of colour.</p> + +<p>"Wal," said the landlord chinking some loose coins in his capacious +pockets, "I reckon Mis' Brownleigh'll miss yeh 'bout as much as enny of +us. She lots on your comin' over to read to her. I've heerd her say as +how Amelia Ellen is a good nurse, but she never was much on the readin', +an' Amelia Ellen knows it too. Mis' Brownleigh she'll be powerful +lonesome fer yeh when yeh go. It's not so lively fur her tied to her bed +er her chair, even ef John does write to her reg'lur twicet a week."</p> + +<p>And now Hazel noticed that on the covered veranda in front of the wing +of the house across the way there sat an old lady on a reclining wheeled +chair, and that another woman in a plain blue gown hovered near waiting +upon her. A luxuriant woodbine partly hid the chair, and the distance +was too great to see the face of the woman, but Hazel grew weak with +wonder and pleasure. She sat quite still trying to gather her forces +while the summer boarder expressed earnest regret at having to leave her +chosen summer abiding place so much earlier than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> usual. At last her +friends began to rally Hazel on her silence. She turned away annoyed, +and answered them crossly, following the landlord into the house and +questioning him eagerly. She had suddenly arrived at the conclusion that +she must see Mrs. Brownleigh and know if she looked like her son, and if +she was the kind of mother one would expect such a son to have. She felt +that in the sight might lie her emancipation from the bewitchment that +had bound her in its toils since her Western trip. She also secretly +hoped it might justify her dearest dreams of what his mother was like.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that lady across the street would mind if I went over to +look at her beautiful flowers?" she burst in upon the astonished +landlord as he tipped his chair back with his feet on another and +prepared to browse over yesterday's paper for the third time that day.</p> + +<p>He brought his chair down on its four legs with a thump and drew his hat +further over his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, not a bit, young lady. She's proud to show off her flowers. +They're one of the sights of Granville. Mis' Brownleigh loves to have +comp'ny. Jest go right over an' tell her I sent you. She'll tell you +all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> about 'em, an' like ez not she'll give you a bokay to take 'long. +She's real generous with 'em."</p> + +<p>He tottered out to the door after her on his stiff rheumatic legs, and +suggested that the other young ladies might like to go along, but they +one and all declined, to Hazel's intense relief, and called their +ridicule after her as she picked her way across the dusty road and +opened the white gate into the peaceful scene beyond.</p> + +<p>When she drew close to the side piazza she saw one of the most beautiful +faces she had ever looked upon. The features were delicate and +exquisitely modelled, aged by years and much suffering, yet lovely with +a peace that had permitted no fretting. An abundance of waving silken +hair white as driven snow was piled high upon her head against the snowy +pillow, and soft brown eyes made the girl's heart throb quickly with +their likeness to those other eyes that had once looked into hers.</p> + +<p>She was dressed in a simple little muslin gown of white and gray with +white cloud-like finish at throat and wrists, and across the helpless +limbs was flung a light afghan of pink and gray wool. She made a sweet +picture as she lay and watched her ap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>proaching guest with a smile of +interest and welcome.</p> + +<p>"The landlord said you would not mind if I came over to see your +flowers," Hazel said with a shy, half-frightened catch in her voice. Now +that she was here she was almost sorry she had come. It might not be his +mother at all, and what could she say anyway? Yet her first glimpse told +her that this was a mother to be proud of. "The most beautiful mother in +the world" he had called her, and surely this woman could be none other +than the one who had mothered such a son. Her highest ideals of +motherhood seemed realized as she gazed upon the peaceful face of the +invalid.</p> + +<p>And then the voice! For the woman was speaking now, holding out a +lily-white hand to her and bidding her be seated in the Chinese willow +chair that stood close by the wheeled one; a great green silk cushion at +the back, and a large palm leaf fan on the table beside it.</p> + +<p>"I am so pleased that you came over," Mrs. Brownleigh was saying. "I +have been wondering if some one wouldn't come to me. I keep my flowers +partly to attract my friends, for I can stand a great deal of company +since I'm all alone. You came in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> big motor car that broke down, +didn't you? I've been watching the pretty girls over there, in their gay +ribbons and veils. They look like human flowers. Rest here and tell me +where you have come from and where you are going, while Amelia Ellen +picks you some flowers to take along. Afterwards you shall go among them +and see if there are any you like that she has missed. Amelia Ellen! Get +your basket and scissors and pick a great many flowers for this young +lady. It is getting late and they have not much longer to blossom. There +are three white buds on the rose-bush. Pick them all. I think they fit +your face, my dear. Now take off your hat and let me see your pretty +hair without its covering. I want to get your picture fixed in my heart +so I can look at you after you are gone."</p> + +<p>And so quite simply they fell into easy talk about each other, the day, +the village, and the flowers.</p> + +<p>"You see the little white church down the street? My husband was its +pastor for twenty years. I came to this house a bride, and our boy was +born here. Afterwards, when his father was taken away, I stayed right +here with the people who loved him. The boy was in college then, getting +ready<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> to take up his father's work. I've stayed here ever since. I love +the people and they love me, and I couldn't very well be moved, you +know. My boy is out in Arizona, a home missionary!" She said it as +Abraham Lincoln's mother might have said: "My boy is president of the +United States!" Her face wore a kind of glory that bore a startling +resemblance to the man of the desert. Hazel marvelled greatly, and +understood what had made the son so great.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how he could go and leave you alone!" she broke forth +almost bitterly. "I should think his duty was here with his mother!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," the mother smiled; "they do say that, some of them, but +it's because they don't understand. You see we gave John to God when he +was born, and it was our hope from the first that he would choose to be +a minister and a missionary. Of course John thought at first after his +father went away that he could not leave me, but I made him see that I +would be happier so. He wanted me to go with him, but I knew I should +only be a hindrance to the work, and it came to me that my part in the +work was to stay at home and let him go. It was all I had left to do +after I became an invalid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> And I'm very comfortable. Amelia Ellen takes +care of me like a baby, and there are plenty of friends. My boy writes +me beautiful letters twice a week, and we have such nice talks about the +work. He's very like his father, and growing more so every day. +Perhaps," she faltered and fumbled under the pink and silver lap robe, +"perhaps you'd like to read a bit of one of his letters. I have it here. +It came yesterday and I've only read it twice. I don't let myself read +them too often because they have to last three days apiece at least. +Perhaps you'd read it aloud to me. I like to hear John's words aloud +sometimes and Amelia Ellen has never spent much time reading. She is +peculiar in her pronunciation. Do you mind reading it to me?"</p> + +<p>She held a letter forth, written in a strong free hand, the same that +had signed the name John Chadwick Brownleigh in the little book. Hazel's +heart throbbed eagerly and her hand trembled as she reached it shyly +towards the letter. What a miracle was this! that his very letter was +being put into her hand, her whom he loved—to read! Was it possible? +Could there be a mistake? No, surely not. There could not be two John +Brownleighs, both missionaries to Arizona.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dear little Mother o' Mine:" it began, and plunged at once into the +breezy life of the Western country. He had been to a cattle round-up the +week before and he described it minutely in terse and vivid language, +with many a flash of wit, or graver touch of wisdom, and here and there +a boyish expression that showed him young at heart, and devoted to his +mother. He told of a visit he had paid to the Hopi Indians, their +strange villages, each like a gigantic house with many rooms, called a +pueblo, built on the edges of lofty crags or mesas and looking like huge +castles five or six hundred feet above the desert floor. He told of +Walpi, a village out on the end of a great promontory, its only access a +narrow neck of land less than a rod wide, with one little path worn more +than a foot deep in the solid rock by the feet of ten generations +passing over it, where now live about two hundred and thirty people in +one building. There were seven of these villages built on three mesas +that reach out from the northern desert like three great fingers, +Oraibi, the largest, having over a thousand people. He explained that +Spanish explorers found these Hopis in 1540, long before the pilgrims +landed at Plymouth Rock,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> and called the country Tusayan. Then he went +on to describe a remarkable meeting that had been held in which the +Indians had manifested deep interest in spiritual things, and had asked +many curious questions about life, death and the hereafter.</p> + +<p>"You see, dear," said the mother, her eyes shining eagerly, "you see how +much they need him, and I'm glad I can give him. It makes me have a part +in the work."</p> + +<p>Hazel turned back to the letter and went on reading to hide the tears +that were gathering in her own eyes as she looked upon the exalted face +of the mother.</p> + +<p>There was a detailed account of a conference of missionaries, to attend +which the rider had ridden ninety miles on horseback; and at the close +there was an exquisite description of the spot where they had camped the +last night of their ride. She knew it from the first word almost, and +her heart beat so wildly she could hardly keep her voice steady to read:</p> + +<p>"I stopped over night on the way home at a place I dearly love. There is +a great rock, shelving and overhanging, for shelter from any passing +storm, and quite near a charming green boudoir of cedars on three sides, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>and rock on the fourth. An abundant water-hole makes camping easy for +me and Billy, and the stars overhead are good tapers. Here I build my +fire and boil the kettle, read my portion and lie down to watch the +heavens. Mother, I wish you knew how near to God one feels out in the +desert with the stars. Last night about three o'clock I woke to +replenish my fire and watch a while a great comet, the finest one for +many years. I would tell you about it but I've already made this letter +too long, and it's time Billy and I were on our way again. I love this +spot beside the big rock and often come back to it on my journeys; +perhaps because here I once camped with a dear friend and we had +pleasant converse together around our brushwood fire. It makes the +desert seem less lonely because I can sometimes fancy my friend still +reclining over on the other side of the fire in the light that plays +against the great rock. Well, little mother o' mine, I must close. Cheer +up, for it has been intimated to me that I may be sent East to General +Assembly in the spring, and then for three whole weeks with you! That +will be when the wild strawberries are out, and I shall carry you in my +arms and spread a couch for you on the strawberry hill behind the house, +and you shall pick some again with your own hands."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a sudden catch in her throat like a sob the reading came to an end +and Hazel, her eyes bright with tears, handed the letter reverently back +to the mother whose face was bright with smiles.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he a boy worth giving?" she asked as she folded the letter and +slipped it back under the pink and gray cover.</p> + +<p>"He is a great gift," said Hazel in a low voice.</p> + +<p>She was almost glad that Amelia Ellen came up with an armful of flowers +just then and she might bury her face in their freshness and hide the +tears that would not be stayed, and then before she had half admired +their beauty there was a loud "Honk-honk!" from the road, followed by a +more impatient one, and Hazel was made aware that she was being waited +for.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you must go, dear," said the gentle woman. "I haven't seen so +beautiful a girl in years, and I'm sure you have a lovely heart, too. I +wish you could visit me again."</p> + +<p>"I will come again some time if you will let me!" said the girl +impulsively, and then stooped and kissed the soft rose-leaf cheek, and +fled down the path trying to get control of her emotion before meeting +her companions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hazel was quiet all the rest of the way, and was rallied much upon her +solemnity. She pleaded a headache and closed her eyes, while each +heart-throb carried her back over the months and brought her again to +the little camp under the rock beneath the stars.</p> + +<p>"He remembered still! He cared!" This was what her glad thoughts sang as +the car whirled on, and her gay companions forgot her and chattered of +their frivolities.</p> + +<p>"How wonderful that I should find his mother!" she said again and again +to herself. Yet it was not so wonderful. He had told her the name of the +town, and she might have come here any time of her own accord. But it +was strange and beautiful that the accident had brought her straight to +the door of the house where he had been born and brought up! What a +beautiful, happy boyhood he must have had with a mother like that! Hazel +found herself thinking wistfully, out of the emptiness of her own +motherless girlhood. Yes, she would go back and see the sweet mother +some day; and she fell to planning how it could be.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XI</h2> + +<h3>REFUGE</h3> + + +<p>Milton Hamar had not troubled Hazel all summer. From time to time her +father mentioned him as being connected with business enterprises, and +it was openly spoken of now that a divorce had been granted him, and his +former wife was soon to marry again. All this, however, was most +distasteful to the girl to whom the slightest word about the man served +to bring up the hateful scene of the desert.</p> + +<p>But early in the fall he appeared among them again, assuming his old +friendly attitude towards the whole family, dropping in to lunch or +dinner whenever it suited his fancy. He seemed to choose to forget what +had passed between Hazel and himself, to act as though it had not been, +and resumed his former playful attitude of extreme interest in the girl +of whom he had always been fond. Hazel, however, found a certain air of +proprietorship in his gaze, a too-open expression of his admiration +which was offensive. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> could not forget, try as hard as she might for +her father's sake to forgive. She shrank away from the man's company, +avoided him whenever possible, and at last when he seemed to be almost +omnipresent, and growing every day more insistent in his attentions, she +cast about her for some absorbing interest which would take her out of +his sphere.</p> + +<p>Then a strange fancy took her in its possession.</p> + +<p>It was in the middle of the night when it came to her, where she had +been turning her luxurious pillow for two hours trying in vain to tempt +a drowsiness that would not come, and she arose at once and wrote a +brief and businesslike letter to the landlord of the little New +Hampshire inn where she had been delayed for a couple of hours in the +fall. In the morning, true to her impulsive nature, she besieged her +father until he gave his permission for her to take her maid and a quiet +elderly cousin of his and go away for a complete rest before the society +season began.</p> + +<p>It was a strange whim for his butterfly daughter to take but the busy +man saw no harm in it, and was fully convinced that it was merely her +way of punishing some over ardent follower for a few days; and feeling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +sure she would soon return, he let her go. She had had her way all her +life, and why should he cross her in so simple a matter as a few days' +rest in a country inn with a respectable chaperone?</p> + +<p>The letter to the landlord was outtravelled by a telegram whose answer +sent Hazel on her way the next morning, thankful that she had been able +to get away during a temporary absence of Milton Hamar, and that her +father had promised not to let any of her friends know of her +whereabouts. His eye had twinkled as he made the promise. He was quite +sure which of her many admirers was being punished, but he did not tell +her so. He intended to be most judicious with all her young men friends. +He so confided his intentions to Milton Hamar that evening, having no +thought that Hazel would mind their old friend's knowing.</p> + +<p>Two days later Hazel, after establishing her little party comfortably in +the best rooms the New Hampshire inn afforded, putting a large box of +new novels at their disposal, and another of sweets, and sending orders +for new magazines to be forwarded, went over to call on the sweet old +lady towards whom her heart had been turning eagerly, with a longing +that would not be put away, ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> since that first accidental, or +providential, meeting.</p> + +<p>When she came back, through the first early snow-storm, with her cheeks +like winter roses and her furry hat all feathered with great white +flakes, she found Milton Hamar seated in front of the open fire in the +office making the air heavy with his best tobacco, and frowning +impatiently through the small-paned windows.</p> + +<p>The bright look faded instantly from her face and the peace which she +had almost caught from the woman across the way. Her eyes flashed +indignantly, and her whole small frame stiffened for the combat that she +knew must come now. There was no mistaking her look. Milton Hamar knew +at once that he was not welcome. She stood for an instant with the door +wide open, blowing a great gust of biting air across the wide room and +into his face. A cloud of smoke sprang out from the fireplace to meet it +and the two came together in front of the man, and made a visible wall +for a second between him and the girl.</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet, cigar in hand, and an angry exclamation upon his +lips. The office, fortunately, was without other occupant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why in the name of all that's unholy did you lead me a race away off to +this forsaken little hole in midwinter, Hazel?" he cried.</p> + +<p>Hazel drew herself to her full height and with the dignity that well +became her, answered him:</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Hamar, what right have you to speak to me in that way? And +what right had you to follow me?"</p> + +<p>"The right of the man who is going to marry you!" he answered fiercely; +"and I think it's about time this nonsense stopped. It's nothing but +coquettish foolishness, your coming here. I hate coquettish fools. I +didn't think you had it in you to coquet, but it seems all women are +alike."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Hamar, you are forgetting yourself," said the girl quietly, turning +to shut the door that she might gain time to get control of her shaken +nerves. She had a swift vision of what it would be if she were married +to a man like that. No wonder his wife was entirely willing to give him +a divorce. But she shuddered as she turned back and faced him bravely.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did you come here for?" he asked in a less fierce tone.</p> + +<p>"I came because I wanted to be quiet,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> Hazel said trying to steady her +voice, "and—I will tell you the whole truth. I came because I wanted to +get away from—you! I have not liked the way you acted towards me +since—that day—in Arizona."</p> + +<p>The man's fierce brows drew together, but a kind of mask of apology +overspread his features. He perceived that he had gone too far with the +girl whom he had thought scarcely more than a child. He had thought he +could mould her like wax, and that his scorn would instantly wither her +wiles. He watched her steadily for a full minute; the girl, though +trembling in every nerve, sending back a steady, haughty gaze.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that?" he said at last.</p> + +<p>"I do!" Her voice was quiet, but she was on the verge of tears.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps we'd better talk it over. I see I've taken too much for +granted. I thought you'd understood for a year or more what was going +on—what I was doing it for."</p> + +<p>"You thought I understood! You thought I would be willing to be a party +to such an awful thing as you have done!" Hazel's eyes were flashing +fire now. The tears were scorched away.</p> + +<p>"Sit down! We'll talk it over," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> man moving a great summer +chair nearer to his own. His eyes were on her face approvingly and he +was thinking what a beautiful picture she made in her anger.</p> + +<p>"Never!" said the girl quickly. "It is not a thing I could talk over. I +do not wish to speak of it again. I wish you to leave this place at +once," and she turned with a quick movement and fled up the quaint old +staircase.</p> + +<p>She stayed in her room until he left, utterly refusing to see him, +refusing to answer the long letters he wrote and sent up to her; and +finally, after another day, he went away. But he wrote to her several +times, and came again twice, each time endeavouring to surprise her into +talking with him. The girl grew to watch nervously every approach of the +daily stage which brought stray travellers from the station four miles +distant, and was actually glad when a heavy snow-storm shut them in and +made it unlikely that her unwelcome visitor would venture again into the +country.</p> + +<p>The last time he came Hazel saw him descending from the coach, and +without a word to any one, although it was almost supper time, and the +early winter twilight was upon them, she seized her fur cloak and +slipped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> down the back stairs, out through the shadows, across the road, +where she surprised good Amelia Ellen by flinging her arms about her +neck and bursting into tears right in the dark front hall, for the gust +of wintry wind from the open door blew the candle out, and Amelia Ellen +stood astonished and bewildered for a moment in the blast of the north +wind with the soft arms of the excited girl in her furry wrappings +clinging about her unaccustomed shoulders.</p> + +<p>Amelia Ellen had never had many beautiful things in her life, the care +of her Dresden-china mistress, and her brilliant garden of flowers, +having been the crowning of her life hitherto. This beautiful city girl +with her exquisite garments and her face like a flower, flung upon her +in sudden appeal, drew out all the latent love and pity and sympathy of +which Amelia Ellen had a larger store than most, hidden under a simple +and severe exterior.</p> + +<p>"Fer the land's sake! Whatever ails you!" she exclaimed when she could +speak for astonishment, and to her own surprise her arm enclosed the +sobbing girl in a warm embrace while with the other hand she reached to +close the door. "Come right in to my kitchen and set in the big chair by +the cat and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> let me give you a cup o' tea. Then you can tell Mis' +Brownleigh what's troublin' you. She'll know how to talk to you. I'll +git you some tea right away."</p> + +<p>She drew the shrinking girl into the kitchen and ousting the cat from a +patchwork rocker pushed her gently into it. It was characteristic of +Amelia Ellen that she had no thought of ministering to her spiritual +needs herself, but knew her place was to bring physical comfort.</p> + +<p>She spoke no word save to the cat, admonishing him to mend his manners +and keep out from under foot, while she hurried to the tea canister, the +bread box, the sugar bowl, and the china closet. Soon a cup of fragrant +tea was set before the unexpected guest, and a bit of delicate toast +browning over the coals, to be buttered and eaten crisp with the tea; +and the cat nestled comfortably at Hazel's feet while she drank the tea +and wiped away the tears.</p> + +<p>"You'll think I'm a big baby, Amelia Ellen!" cried Hazel trying to smile +shamedly, "but I'm just so tired of the way things go. You see somebody +I don't a bit like has come up from New York on the evening coach, and +I've run away for a little while. I don't know what made me cry. I never +cry at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> home, but when I got safely over here a big lump came in my +throat and you looked so nice and kind that I couldn't keep the tears +back."</p> + +<p>From that instant Amelia Ellen, toasting fork in hand, watching the +sweet blue eyes and the tear-stained face that resembled a drenched pink +bud after a storm, loved Hazel Radcliffe. Come weal, come woe, Amelia +Ellen was from henceforth her staunch admirer and defendant.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind, honey, you just eat your tea an' run in to Mis' +Brownleigh, an' I'll get my hood an' run over to tell your folks you've +come to stay all night over here. Then you'll have a cozy evenin' +readin' while I sew, an' you can sleep late come mornin', and go back +when you're ready. Nobody can't touch you over here. I'm not lettin' in +people by night 'thout I know 'em," and she winked knowingly at the girl +by way of encouragement. Well she knew who the unwelcome stranger from +New York was. She had keen eyes, and had watched the coach from her +well-curtained kitchen window as it came in.</p> + +<p>That night Hazel told her invalid friend all about Milton Hamar, and +slept in the pleasant bed that Amelia Ellen had prepared for her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> with +sheets of fragrant linen redolent of sweet clover. Her heart was lighter +for the simple, kindly advice and the gentle love that had been showered +upon her. She wondered, as she lay half dozing in the morning with the +faint odour of coffee and muffins penetrating the atmosphere, why it was +that she could love this beautiful mother of her hero so much more +tenderly than she had ever loved any other woman. Was it because she had +never known her own mother and had longed for one all her life, or was +it just because she was <i>his</i> dear mother? She gave up trying to answer +the question and went smiling down to breakfast, and then across the +road to face her unwelcome lover, strong in the courage that friendly +counsel had given her.</p> + +<p>Milton Hamar left before dinner, having been convinced at last of the +uselessness of his visit. He hired a man with a horse and cutter to +drive him across country to catch the New York evening express, and +Hazel drew a breath of relief and began to find new pleasure in life. +Her father was off on a business trip for some weeks; her brother had +gone abroad for the winter with a party of college friends. There was no +real reason why she should return to New York for some time, and she +decided to stay and learn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> of this saintly woman how to look wisely on +the things of life. To her own heart she openly acknowledged that there +was a deep pleasure in being near one who talked of the man she loved.</p> + +<p>So the winter settled down to business, and Hazel spent happy days with +her new friends, for Amelia Ellen had become a true friend in the best +sense of the word.</p> + +<p>The maid had found the country winter too lonely and Hazel had found her +useless and sent her back to town. She was learning by association with +Amelia Ellen to do a few things for herself. The elderly cousin, whose +years had been a long strain of scrimping to present a respectable +exterior, was only too happy to have leisure and quiet to read and +embroider to her heart's content. So Hazel was free to spend much time +with Mrs. Brownleigh.</p> + +<p>They read together, at least Hazel did the reading, for the older eyes +were growing dim, and had to be guarded to prevent the terrible +headaches which came at the slightest provocation and made the days a +blank of suffering for the lovely soul where patience was having its +perfect work.</p> + +<p>The world of literature opened through a new door to the eager young +mind now.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> Books of which she had never heard were at her hand. New +thoughts and feelings were stirred by them. A few friends who knew Mrs. +Brownleigh through their summer visits, and others who had known her +husband, kept her well supplied with the latest and always the best of +everything—history, biography, essays and fiction. But there were also +books of a deep spiritual character, and magazines that showed a new +world, the religious world, to the girl. She read with zest all of them, +and enjoyed deeply the pleasant converse concerning each. Her eyes were +being opened to new ways of living. She was beginning to know that there +was an existence more satisfying than just to go from one round of +amusement to another. And always, more than in any other thing she read, +she took a most unusual interest in home missionary literature. It was +not because it was so new and strange and like a fairy tale, nor because +she knew her friend enjoyed hearing all this news so much, but because +it held for her the story of the man she now knew she loved, and who had +said he loved her. She wanted to put herself into touch with +surroundings like his, to understand better what he had to endure, and +why he had not dared to ask her to share his life,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> his hardship—most +of all why he had not thought her worthy to suffer with him.</p> + +<p>When she grew tired of reading she would go out into the kitchen and +help Amelia Ellen. It was her own whim that she should learn how to make +some of the good things to eat for which Amelia Ellen was famous. So +while her society friends at home went from one gay scene to another, +dancing and frivolling through the night and sleeping away the morning, +Hazel bared her round white arms, enveloped herself in a clean +blue-checked apron, and learned to make bread and pies and gingerbread +and puddings and doughnuts and fruit-cake, how to cook meats and +vegetables and make delicious broths from odds and ends, and to concoct +the most delectable desserts that would tempt the frailest appetite. +Real old country things they were—no fancy salads and whips and froths +that society has hunted out to tempt its waning taste till everything +has palled. She wrote to one of her old friends, who demanded to know +what she was doing so long up there in the country in the height of the +season, that she was taking a course in Domestic Science and happily +recounted her menu of accomplishments. Secretly her heart rejoiced that +she was become less and less unworthy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> of the love of the man in whose +home and at whose mother's side she was learning sweet lessons.</p> + +<p>There came letters, of course, from the far-away missionary. Hazel +stayed later in the kitchen the morning of their arrival, conscious of a +kind of extra presence in his mother's room when his letters arrived. +She knew the mother liked to be alone with her son's letters, and that +she saved her eyes from other reading for them alone. Always the older +face wore a kind of glorified look when the girl entered after she had +been reading her letter. The letter itself would be hidden away out of +sight in the bosom of her soft gray gown, to be read again and again +when she was alone, but seldom was it brought out in the presence of the +visitor, much as the mother was growing to love this girl. Frequently +there were bits of news.</p> + +<p>"My son says he is very glad I am having such delightful company this +winter, and he wants me to thank you from him for reading to me," she +said once, patting Hazel's hand as she tucked the wool robe about her +friend's helpless form. And again:</p> + +<p>"My son is starting to build a church. He is very happy about it. They +have heretofore held worship in a schoolhouse. He has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> collected a good +deal of the money himself, and he will help to put up the building with +his own hands. He is going to send me a photograph when it is up. I +would like to be present when it is dedicated. It makes me very proud to +have my son doing that."</p> + +<p>The next letter brought a photograph, a small snapshot of the canyon, +tiny, but clear and distinct. Hazel's hand trembled when the mother gave +it to her to look at, for she knew the very spot. She fancied it was +quite near the place where they had paused for water. She could feel +again the cool breath of the canyon, the damp smell of the earth and +ferns, and hear the call of the wild bird.</p> + +<p>Then one day there came a missionary magazine with a short article on +the work of Arizona and a picture of the missionary mounted on Billy, +just ready to start from his little shack on a missionary tour.</p> + +<p>Hazel, turning the leaves, came upon the picture and held her breath +with astonishment and delight; then rapidly glanced over the article, +her heart beating wildly as though she had heard his voice suddenly +calling to her out of the distances that separated them. She had a +beautiful time surprising the proud mother with the picture and reading +the article. From that morning they seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> have a tenderer tie +between them, and once, just before Hazel was leaving for the night, the +mother reached out a detaining hand and laid it on the girl's arm. "I +wish my boy and you were acquainted, dear," she said wistfully. And +Hazel, the rich colour flooding her face at once, replied hesitatingly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, why—I—feel—almost—as—though—we <i>were!</i>" Then she kissed her +friend on the soft cheek and hurried back to the inn.</p> + +<p>It was that night that the telegram came to say that her father had been +seriously injured in a railway accident and would be brought home at +once. She had no time to think of anything then but to hurry her +belongings together and hasten to New York.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XII</h2> + +<h3>QUALIFYING FOR SERVICE</h3> + + +<p>During the six weeks' lingering suffering that followed the accident +Hazel was never far from her father's bedside. It seemed as though a new +bond of understanding had come between them.</p> + +<p>He was very low and there was little hope from the beginning. As he grew +weaker he seemed never to want his daughter out of sight, and once when +he woke suddenly to find her close beside him, a smile of relief spread +over his face, and he told her in brief words that he had dreamed she +was lost again in Arizona, and that he had been searching for her with +the wild beasts howling all about and wicked men prowling in dark caves. +He told her how during that awful time of her disappearance he had been +haunted by her face as she was a tiny baby after her mother died, and it +seemed to him he should go mad if he could not find her at once.</p> + +<p>Then to soothe him she told him of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> missionary, and how gently he +had cared for her; told him of all the pleasant little details of the +way, though not, of course, of his love for her nor hers for him. +Perhaps the father, with eyes keen from their nearness to the other +world, discerned something of her interest as she talked, for once he +sighed and said, in reference to the life of sacrifice the missionary +was leading: "Well, I don't know but such things are more worth while +after all."</p> + +<p>And then with sudden impulse she told him of her finding his mother, and +why she had wanted to go to the country in the middle of the society +season, because she wanted to know more of the peaceful life this woman +lived.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will meet him again. Who knows?" said the father, looking +wistfully at his lovely daughter, and then he turned his head away and +sighed again.</p> + +<p>As the confidence grew between them she told him one day of Milton +Hamar's unwelcome proposal, and the indignation of the father knew no +bounds.</p> + +<p>It was after that she ventured to read to him from the little book, and +to tell of the worship held out under the stars in the desert. It came +to be a habit between them, as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> days grew less, that she should read +the little book, and afterwards he would always lie still as if he were +asleep.</p> + +<p>It was on the words of the precious psalm that he closed his eyes for +the last time in this world, and it was the psalm that brought comfort +to the daughter's heart when she came back to the empty house after the +funeral.</p> + +<p>Her brother was there, it is true, but he was afraid of death, and +wanted to get back to his world again, back to the European trip where +he had left his friends, and especially a gay young countess who had +smiled upon him. He was impatient of death and sorrow. Hazel saw that he +could not comprehend her loneliness, so she bade him go as soon as +decency would allow, and he was not long in obeying her. He had had his +own way all his life, and even death was not to deny him.</p> + +<p>The work of the trained nurses who had cared for her father interested +Hazel deeply. She had talked with them about their life and preparation +for it, and when she could no longer stand the great empty house with +only Aunt Maria for company, who had come back just before Mr. +Radcliffe's death, she determined to become a nurse herself.</p> + +<p>There was much ado over her decision<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> among her acquaintances, and Aunt +Maria thought it was not quite respectable for her to do so eccentric a +thing and so soon after her father's death. She would have preferred to +have had her run down to Lakewood for a few weeks and then follow her +brother across the water for a year or two of travel; but Hazel was +quite determined, and before January was over she was established in the +hospital, through the influence of their family physician, and +undergoing her first initiation.</p> + +<p>It was not easy thus to give up her life of doing exactly as she pleased +when she pleased, and become a servant under orders. Her back often +ached, and her eyes grew heavy with the watching and the ministering, +and she would be almost ready to give over. Then the thought of the man +of the desert gave her new courage and strength. It came to her that she +was partaking with him in the great work of the kingdom, and with this +thought she would rise and go about the strange new work again, until +her interest in the individuals to whom she ministered grew deep, and +she understood in a measure the reason for the glory in the face of the +missionary as he spoke in the starlight about his work.</p> + +<p>Often her heart went out wistfully towards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> her invalid friend in New +Hampshire, and she would rest herself by writing a long letter, and +would cherish the delicately written answers. Now and again there would +be some slight reference to "my son" in these letters. As the spring +came on they were more frequent, for May would bring the General +Assembly, and the son was to be one of the speakers. How her heart +throbbed when she read that this was certain now. A few days later when +she happened to read in the daily paper some item about Assembly plans +and discovered for the first time that it was to meet in New York, she +found herself in a flutter of joy. Would it be possible for her to hear +him speak? That was the great question that kept coming and going in her +mind. Could she arrange it so that she would be sure to be off duty when +his time came to speak? How could she find out about it all? Thereafter +her interest in the church news of the daily papers became deep.</p> + +<p>Then spring came on with its languid air and the hard round of work, +with often a call to watch when overcome with weariness, or to do some +unaccustomed task that tried her undisciplined soul. But the papers were +full of the coming Assembly, and at last the program and his name!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>She laid her plans most carefully, but the case she had been put upon +that week was very low, dying, and the woman had taken a fancy to her +and begged her to stay by her till the end. It was a part of the new +Hazel that she stayed, though her heart rose up in protest and tears of +disappointment would keep coming to her eyes. The head nurse marked them +with disapproval and told the house doctor that Radcliffe would never +make much of a nurse; she had no control over her emotions.</p> + +<p>Death came, almost too late, and set her free for the afternoon, but it +was but half an hour to the time set for his speech, she was three miles +from the place of meeting and still in her uniform. It was almost +foolish to try. Nevertheless she hurried to her room and slipped into a +plain little street suit, the thing that would go on quickest, and was +away.</p> + +<p>It seemed as though every cab and car and mode of transit had conspired +to hinder her, and five minutes before the time set for the next speech +she hurried breathless into the dim hallway of a great crowded church, +and pressed up the stairs to the gallery, through the silent leather +doors that could scarcely swing open for the crowd inside them, and +heard at last—<i>his</i> voice!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was away up at the top of the gallery. Men and women were standing +close all about her. She could not catch even a glimpse of the platform +with its array of noble men whose consecration and power and intellects +had made them great religious leaders. She could not see the young +commanding figure standing at the edge of the platform, nor catch the +flash of his brown eyes as he held the audience in his power while he +told the simple story of his Western work; but she could hear the voice, +and it went straight to her lonely, sorrowful heart. Straightway the +church with its mass of packed humanity, its arched and carven ceiling, +its magnificent stained-glass windows, its wonderful organ and costly +fittings, faded from her sight, and overhead there arched a dome of dark +blue pierced with stars, and mountains in the distance with a canyon +opening, and a flickering fire. She heard the voice speak from its +natural setting, though her eyes were closed and full of tears.</p> + +<p>He finished his story amid a breathless silence on the part of his +audience, and then with scarcely a break in his voice spoke to God in +one of his uplifting prayers. The girl, trembling, almost sobbing, felt +herself included in the prayer, felt again the protection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> of an unseen +Presence, felt the benediction in his voice as he said, "Amen," and +echoed its utmost meaning in her soul.</p> + +<p>The audience was still hushed as the speaker turned to go to his seat at +the back of the platform. A storm of applause had been made impossible +by that prayer, for heaven opened with the words and God looked down and +had to do with each soul present. But the applause burst forth after all +in a moment, for the speaker had whispered a few words to the moderator +and was hurrying from the platform. There were cries of, "Don't go! Tell +us more! Keep on till six o'clock!" Hazel could not see a thing though +she stretched her neck and stood upon the tips of her toes, but she +clasped her hands tightly together when the applause came, and her heart +echoed every sound.</p> + +<p>The clamour ceased a moment as the moderator raised his hand, and +explained that the brother to whom they had all been listening with such +pleasure would be glad to speak to them longer, but that he was +hastening away to take the train to see his invalid mother who had been +waiting for two long years for her boy. A pause, a great sigh of +sympathy and disappointment, and then the applause<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> burst forth again, +and continued till the young missionary had left the church.</p> + +<p>Hazel, in bitter disappointment, turned and slipped out. She had not +caught a glimpse of his beloved face. She exulted that she had heard the +honour given him, been a part of those who rejoiced in his power and +consecration, but she could not have him go without having at least one +look at him.</p> + +<p>She hurried blindly down the stairs, out to the street, and saw a +carriage standing before the door. The carriage door had just been +closed, but as she gazed he turned and looked out for an instant, +lifting his hat in farewell to a group of ministers who stood on the +church steps. Then the carriage whirled him away and the world grew +suddenly blank.</p> + +<p>She had been behind the men on the steps, just within the shadow of the +dim doorway. He had not seen her, and of course would not have +recognized her if he had; yet now she realized that she had +hoped—oh—what had she not hoped from meeting him here!</p> + +<p>But he was gone, and it might be years before he came East again. He had +utterly put her from his life. He would not think of her again if he did +come! Oh, the loneliness of a world like this! Why, oh why, had she ever +gone to the desert to learn the emptiness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> of her life, when there was +no other for her anywhere!</p> + +<p>The days that followed were very sad and hard. The only thought that +helped now was that she too had tried to give her life for something +worth while as he had done, and perhaps it might be accepted. But there +was a deep unrest in her soul now, a something that she knew she had not +got that she longed inexpressibly to have. She had learned to cook and +to nurse. She was not nearly so useless as when she rode all care-free +upon the desert. She had overcome much of her unworthiness. But there +was still one great obstacle which unfitted her for companionship and +partnership with the man of the desert. She had not the something in her +heart and life that was the source and centre of self-sacrifice. She was +still unworthy.</p> + +<p>There was a long letter about the first of June from her friend in New +Hampshire, more shakily written, she fancied, than those that had come +before, and then there came an interval without any reply to hers. She +had little time, however, to worry about it, for the weather was +unusually warm and the hospital was full. Her strength was taxed to its +utmost to fill her round of daily duties. Aunt Maria scolded and +insisted on a vacation, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> finally in high dudgeon betook herself to +Europe for the summer. The few friends with whom Hazel kept up any +intercourse hurried away to mountains or sea, and the summer settled +down to business.</p> + +<p>And now in the hot, hot nights when she lay upon her small bed, too +weary almost to sleep, she would fancy she heard again that voice as he +spoke in the church, or longer ago in the desert; and sometimes she +could think she felt the breeze of the desert night upon her hot +forehead.</p> + +<p>The head nurse and the house doctor decided Radcliffe needed a change +and suggested a few days at the shore with a convalescing patient, but +Hazel's heart turned from the thought, and she insisted upon sticking to +her post. She clung to the thought that she could at least be faithful. +It was what he would do, and in so much she would be like him, and +worthy of his love.</p> + +<p>It was the last thought in her mind before she fainted on the broad +marble staircase with a tiny baby in her arms, and fell to the bottom. +The baby was uninjured, but it took a long time to bring the nurse back +to consciousness, and still longer to put heart into her again.</p> + +<p>"She isn't fit for the work!" she heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> the biting tongue of the head +nurse declare. "She's too frail and pretty and—emotional. She feels +everybody's troubles. Now I never let a case worry me in the least!" And +the house doctor eyed her knowingly and said in his heart:</p> + +<p>"Any one would know that."</p> + +<p>But Hazel, listening, was more disheartened than ever. Then here, too, +she was failing and was adjudged unworthy!</p> + +<p>The next morning there came a brief, blunt note from Amelia Ellen: "Dear +Mis Raclift Ef yore a trainurse why don't yo cum an' take car o' my Mis +Brownleigh She aint long fer heer an she's wearyin to see yo She as +gotta hev one, a trainurse I mean Yors respectfooly Amelia Ellen Stout."</p> + +<p>After an interview with the house doctor and another with her old family +physician, Hazel packed up her uniforms and departed for New Hampshire.</p> + +<p>It was the evening of her arrival, after the gentle invalid had been +prepared for sleep and left in the quiet and dark, that Amelia Ellen +told the story:</p> + +<p>"She ain't ben the same since John went back. Seems like she sort o' +sensed thet he wouldn't come again while she was livin'. She tole me the +next day a lot of things she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> wanted done after she was gone, and she's +ben gettin' ready to leave this earth ever since. Not that she's gloomy, +oh, my senses no! She's jes' as interested as can be in her flowers, and +in folks, an' the church, but she don't want to try to do so many +things, and she has them weak, fainty spells oftener, an' more pain in +her heart. She sits fer long hours with jest her Bible open now, but +land, she don't need to read it! She knows it most by heart—that is the +livin' parts, you know. She don't seem to care 'tall fer them magazine +articles now any more. I wish t' the land they'd be anuther Gen'l +'Sembly! Thet was the greatest thing fer her. She jest acted like she +was tendin' every blessed one o' them meetin's. Why, she couldn't wait +fer me t' git done my breakfast dishes. She'd want me t' fix her up fer +the day, an' then set down an' read their doin's. 'We kin let things go, +you know, 'Meelia Ellen,' she'd say with her sweet little smile, 'just +while the meetin's last. Then when it's over they'll be time 'nough fer +work—an' rest too, 'Meelia Ellen,' says she. Well, seems like she was +just 'tendin' those meetin's herself, same es if she was there. She'd +take her nap like it was a pill, er somethin', and then be wide awake +an' ready fer her afternoon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> freshenin', an' then she'd watch fer the +stage to bring the evenin' paper. John, he hed a whole cartload o' +papers sent, an' the day he spoke they was so many I jes' couldn't get +my bread set. I hed to borry a loaf off the inn. First time that's ever +happened to me either. I jest hed to set an' read till my back ached, +and my eyes swum. I never read so much in my whole borned days t' oncet; +an' I've done a good bit o' readin' in my time, too, what with nursin' +her an' bein' companion to a perfessor's invaleed daughter one summer.</p> + +<p>"Wal, seems like she jest went on an' on, gettin' workeder-up an' +workeder-up, till the 'Sembly closed, an' he come; and she was clear to +the top o' the heap all them three weeks whilst he was here. Why, I +never seen her so bright since when I was a little girl an' went to her +Sunday-school class, an' she wore a poke bonnet trimmed with lute-string +ribbon an' a rose inside. Talk 'bout roses—they wasn't one in the +garden as bright an' pink as her two cheeks, an' her eyes shone jest fer +all the world like his. I was terrible troubled lest she'd break down, +but she didn't. She got brighter an' brighter. Let him take her out +ridin', an' let him carry her into the orchard an' lay her down under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +the apple boughs where she could reach a wild strawberry herself. Why, +she hedn't ben off'n the porch sence he went away two years ago. But +every day he stayed she got brighter. The last day 'fore he left she +seemed like she wasn't sick at all. She wanted to get up early, an' she +wouldn't take no nap, 'cause she said she couldn't waste a minute of the +last day. Well, she actu'lly got on her feet oncet an' made him walk her +crost the porch. She hedn't ben on her feet fer more'n a minute fer ten +months, an' 'twas more'n she could stan'. She was jest as bright an' +happy all thet day, an' when he went 'way she waved her hand as happy +like an' smiled an' said she was glad to be able to send him back to his +work. But she never said a word about his comin' back. He kep' sayin' he +would come back next spring, but she only smiled, an' tole him he might +not be able to leave his work, an' 'twas all right. She wanted him to be +faithful.</p> + +<p>"Well, he went, an' the coach hedn't no more'n got down the hill an' up +again an' out o' sight behind the bridge 'fore she calls to me an' she +says, ''Meelia Ellen, I believe I'm tired with all the goin's on there's +been, an' if you don't mind I think I'll take a nap.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> So I helps her +into her room and fixes her into her night things an' thur she's laid +ever since, an' it's six whole weeks ef it's a day. Every mornin' fer a +spell I'd go in an' say, 'Ain't you ready fer me to fix you fer the day, +Mis' Brownleigh?' An' she'd jest smile an' say, 'Well, I b'leeve not +just now, 'Meelia Ellen. I think I'll just rest to-day yet. Maybe I'll +feel stronger to-morrow'; but to-morrow never comes, an' it's my +thinkin' she'll never git up agin."</p> + +<p>The tears were streaming down the good woman's cheeks now and Hazel's +eyes were bright with tears too. She had noticed the transparency of the +delicate flesh, the frailness of the wrinkled hands. The woman's words +brought conviction to her heart also.</p> + +<p>"What does the doctor say?" she asked, catching at a hope.</p> + +<p>"Well, he ain't much fer talk," said Amelia Ellen lifting her +tear-stained face from her gingham apron where it had been bowed. "It +seems like them two hev just got a secret between 'em thet they won't +say nothin' 'bout it. Seems like he understands, and knows she don't +want folks to talk about it nor worry 'bout her."</p> + +<p>"But her son——" faltered Hazel. "He ought to be told!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, but 'tain't no use; she won't let yeh. I ast her oncet didn't she +want me to write him to come an' make her a little visit just to chirk +her up, and she shook her head and looked real frightened, and she says: +''Meelia Ellen, don't you never go to sendin' fer him 'thout lettin' me +know. I should <i>not</i> like it <i>'tall</i>. He's out there doin' his work, an' +I'm happier havin' him at it. A missionary can't take time traipsin' +round the country every time a relative gets a little down. I'm jest +perfectly all right, 'Meelia Ellen, only I went pretty hard durin' +'Sembly week, and when John was here, an' I'm restin' up fer a while. If +I want John sent fer I'll tell you, but <i>don't you go to doin' it +'fore!</i>' An' I really b'leeve she'd be mad at me if I did. She lots a +good deal on givin' her son, an' it would sort o' spoil her sakkerfize, +I s'pose, to hev him come back every time she hungers fer him. I b'leeve +in my heart she's plannin' to slip away quiet and not bother him to say +good-bye. It jest looks thet way to me."</p> + +<p>But the next few days the invalid brightened perceptibly, and Hazel +began to be reassured. Sweet converse they had together, and the girl +heard the long pleasant story of the son's visit home as the mother +dwelt lovingly upon each detail, telling it over and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> over, until the +listener felt that every spot within sight of the invalid's window was +fragrant with his memory. She enjoyed the tale as much as the teller, +and knew just how to give the answer that one loving woman wants from +another loving woman when they speak of the beloved.</p> + +<p>Then when the story all was told over and over and there was nothing +more to tell except the pleasant recalling of a funny speech, or some +tender happening, Hazel began to ask deeper questions about the things +of life and eternity; and step by step the older woman led her in the +path she had led her son through all the years of his childhood.</p> + +<p>During this time she seemed to grow stronger again. There were days when +she sat up for a little while, and let them put the meals on a tiny +swinging table by her chair; and she took a deep interest in leading the +girl to a heavenly knowledge. Every day she asked for her writing +materials and wrote for a little while; yet Hazel noticed that she did +not send all that she had written in the envelope of the weekly letters, +but laid it away carefully in her writing portfolio as if it were +something yet unfinished.</p> + +<p>And one evening in late September, when the last rays of the sunset were +lying across<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> the foot of the wheeled chair, and Amelia Ellen was +building a bit of a fire in the fireplace because it seemed chilly, the +mother called Hazel to her and handed her a letter sealed and addressed +to her son.</p> + +<p>"Dear," she said gently, "I want you to take this letter and put it away +carefully and keep it until I am gone, and then I want you to promise +that, if possible for you to do it, you will give it to my son with your +own hands."</p> + +<p>Hazel took the letter reverently, her heart filled with awe and sorrow +and stooped anxiously over her friend. "Oh, why"—she cried—"what is +the matter? Do you feel worse to-night? You have seemed so bright all +day."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," said the invalid cheerily. "But I have been writing this +for a long time—a sort of good-bye to my boy—and there is nobody in +the world I would like to have give it to him as well as you. Will it +trouble you to promise me, my dear?"</p> + +<p>Hazel with kisses and tears protested that she would be glad to fulfill +the mission, but begged that she might be allowed to send for the +beloved son at once, for a sight of his face, she knew, would be good to +his mother.</p> + +<p>At last her fears were allayed, though she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> was by no means sure that +the son ought not to be sent for, and when the invalid was happily gone +to sleep, Hazel went to her room and tried to think how she might write +a letter that would not alarm the young man, while yet it would bring +him to his mother's side. She planned how she would go away herself for +a few days, so that he need not find her here. She wrote several stiff +little notes but none of them satisfied her. Her heart longed to write: +"Oh, my dear! Come quickly, for your beloved mother needs you. Come, for +my heart is crying out for the sight of you! Come at once!" But finally +before she slept she sealed and addressed a dignified letter from Miss +Radcliffe, his mother's trained nurse, suggesting that he make at least +a brief visit at this time as she must be away for a few days, and she +felt that his presence would be a wise thing. His mother did not seem so +well as when he was with her. Then she lay down comforted to sleep. But +the letter was never sent.</p> + +<p>In the early dawn of the morning, when the faithful Amelia Ellen slipped +from her couch in the alcove just off the invalid's room, and went to +touch a match to the carefully laid fire in the fireplace, she passed +the bed and, as had been her custom for years, glanced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> to see if all +was well with her patient; at once she knew that the sweet spirit of the +mother had fled.</p> + +<p>With her face slightly turned away, a smile of good-night upon her lips, +and the peace of God upon her brow, the mother had entered into her +rest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE CALL OF THE DESERT</h3> + + +<p>Hazel, with her eyes blinded with tears and her heart swelling with the +loss of the woman upon whose motherliness she had come to feel a claim, +burned the letter she had written the night before, and sent a carefully +worded telegram, her heart yearning with sympathy towards the bereaved +son.</p> + +<p>"Your dear mother has gone home, quietly, in her sleep. She did not seem +any worse than usual, and her last words were of you. Let us know at +once what plans we shall make. Nurse Radcliffe." That was the telegram +she sent.</p> + +<p>Poor Amelia Ellen was all broken up. Her practical common sense for once +had fled her. She would do nothing but weep and moan for the beloved +invalid whom she had served so long and faithfully. It fell to Hazel to +make all decisions, though the neighbours and old friends were most kind +with offers of help. Hazel waited anxiously for an answer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> to the +telegram, but night fell and no answer had come. There had been a storm +and something was wrong with the wires. The next morning, however, she +sent another telegram, and about noon still a third, with as yet no +response. She thought perhaps he had not waited to telegraph but had +started immediately, and might be with them in a few hours. She watched +the evening stage, but he did not come; then realized how her heart was +in a flutter, and wondered how she would have had strength to meet him +had he come. There was the letter from his mother, and her promise. She +had that excuse for her presence—of course she could not have left +under the circumstances. Yet she shrank from the meeting, for it seemed +somehow a breach of etiquette that she should be the one to break the +separation that he had chosen should be between them.</p> + +<p>However, he did not come, and the third morning, when it became +imperative that something definite should be known, a telegram to the +station agent in Arizona brought answer that the missionary was away on +a long trip among some tribes of Indians; that his exact whereabouts was +not known, but messengers had been sent after him, and word would be +sent as soon as possible. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> minister and the old neighbours advised +with Amelia Ellen and Hazel, and made simple plans for the funeral, yet +hoped and delayed as long as possible, and when at last after repeated +telegrams there still came the answer, "Messenger not yet returned," +they bore the worn-out body of the woman to a quiet resting place beside +her beloved husband in the churchyard on the hillside where the soft +maples scattered bright covering over the new mound, and the sky arched +high with a kind of triumphant reminder of where the spirit was gone.</p> + +<p>Hazel tried to have every detail just as she thought he would have liked +it. The neighbours brought of their homely flowers in great quantities, +and some city friends who had been old summer boarders sent hot-house +roses. The minister conducted the beautiful service of faith, and the +village children sang about the casket of their old friend, who had +always loved every one of them, their hands full of the late flowers +from her own garden, bright scarlet and blue and gold, as though it were +a joyous occasion. Indeed, Hazel had the impression, even as she moved +in the hush of the presence of death, that she was helping at some +solemn festivity of deep joy instead of a funeral—so glorious had been +the hope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> of the one who was gone, so triumphant her faith in her +Saviour.</p> + +<p>After the funeral was over Hazel sat down and wrote a letter telling +about it all, filling it with sympathy, trying to show their effort to +have things as he would have liked them, and expressing deep sorrow that +they had been compelled to go on with the service without him.</p> + +<p>That night there came a message from the Arizona station agent. The +missionary had been found in a distant Indian hogan with a dislocated +ankle. He sent word that they must not wait for him; that he would get +there in time, if possible. A later message the next day said he was +still unable to travel, but would get to the railroad as soon as +possible. Then came an interval of several days without any word from +Arizona.</p> + +<p>Hazel went about with Amelia Ellen, putting the house in order, hearing +the beautiful plaint of the loving-hearted, mourning servant as she told +little incidents of her mistress. Here was the chair she sat in the last +time she went up-stairs to oversee the spring regulating, and that was +Mr. John's little baby dress in which he was christened. His mother +smoothed it out and told her the story of his baby loveliness one day. +She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> had laid it away herself in the box with the blue shoes and the +crocheted cap. It was the last time she ever came up-stairs.</p> + +<p>There was the gray silk dress she wore to weddings and dinner parties +before her husband died, and beneath it in the trunk was the white +embroidered muslin that was her wedding gown. Yellow with age it was, +and delicate as a spider's web, with frostwork of yellowed broidery +strewn quaintly on its ancient form, and a touch of real lace. Hazel +laid a reverent hand on the fine old fabric, and felt, as she looked +through the treasures of the old trunk, that an inner sanctuary of +sweetness had been opened for her glimpsing.</p> + +<p>At last a letter came from the West.</p> + +<p>It was addressed to "Miss Radcliffe, Nurse," in Brownleigh's firm, clear +hand, and began: "Dear madam." Hazel's hand trembled as she opened it, +and the "dear madam" brought the tears to her eyes; but then, of course, +he did not know.</p> + +<p>He thanked her, with all the kindliness and courtliness of his mother's +son, for her attendance on his dear mother, and told her of many +pleasant things his mother had written of her ministrations. He spoke +briefly of his being laid up lamed in the Indian reservation and his +deep grief that he had been unable to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> come East to be beside his mother +during her last hours, but went on to say that it had been his mother's +wish, many times expressed, that he should not leave his post to come to +her, and that there need be "no sadness of farewell" when she +"embarked," and that though it was hard for him he knew it was a +fulfillment of his mother's desires. And now that she was gone, and the +last look upon her dear face was impossible, he had decided that he +could not bear it just yet to come home and see all the dear familiar +places with her face gone. He would wait a little while, until he had +grown used to the thought of her in heaven, and then it would not be so +hard. Perhaps he would not come home until next spring, unless something +called him; he could not tell. And in any case, his injured ankle +prevented him making the journey at present, no matter how much he may +desire to do so. Miss Radcliffe's letter had told him that everything +had been done just as he would have had it done. There was nothing +further to make it a necessity that he should come. He had written to +his mother's lawyer to arrange his mother's few business affairs, and it +only remained for him to express his deep gratitude towards those who +had stood by his dear mother when it had been made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> impossible for him +to do so. He closed with a request that the nurse would give him her +permanent address that he might be sure to find her when he found it +possible to come East again, as he would enjoy thanking her face to face +for what she had been to his mother.</p> + +<p>That was all.</p> + +<p>Hazel felt a blank dizziness settle down over her as she finished the +letter. It put him miles away from her again, with years perhaps before +another sight of him. She suddenly seemed fearfully alone in a world +that no longer interested her. Where should she go; what <ins title="Transcriber's Note: this word does not appear in the original">to</ins> do with her +life now? Back to the hard grind of the hospital with nobody to care, +and the heartrending scenes and tragedies that were daily enacted? +Somehow her strength seemed to go from her at the thought. Here, too, +she had failed. She was not fit for the life, and the hospital people +had discovered it and sent her away to nurse her friend and try to get +well. They had been kind and talked about when she should return to +them, but she knew in her heart they felt her unfit and did not want her +back.</p> + +<p>Should she go back to her home, summon her brother and aunt, and plunge +into society<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> again? The very idea sickened her. Never again would she +care for that life, she was certain. As she searched her heart to see +what it was she really craved, if anything in the whole wide world, she +found her only interest was in the mission field of Arizona, and now +that her dear friend was gone she was cut off from knowing anything much +about that.</p> + +<p>She gathered herself together after a while and told Amelia Ellen of the +decision of Mr. Brownleigh, and together they planned how the house +should be closed, and everything put in order to await its master's will +to return. But that night Hazel could not sleep, for suddenly, in the +midst of her sad reflections, came the thought of the letter that was +left in her trust.</p> + +<p>It had been forgotten during the strenuous days that had followed the +death of its writer. Hazel had thought of it only once, and that on the +first morning, with a kind of comforting reflection that it would help +the son to bear his sorrow, and she was glad that it was her privilege +to put it into his hand. Then the perplexities of the occasion had +driven it from her thoughts. Now it came back like a swift light in a +dark place. There was yet the letter which she must give him. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> a +precious bond that would hold him to her for a little while longer. But +how should she give it to him?</p> + +<p>Should she send it by mail? No, for that would not be fulfilling the +letter of her promise. She knew the mother wished her to give it to him +herself. Well, then, should she write and summon him to his old home at +once, tell him of the letter and yet refuse to send it to him? How +strange that would seem! How could she explain it to him? His mother's +whim might be sacred to him—would be, of course—but he would think it +strange that a young woman should make so much of it as not to trust the +letter to the mail now that the circumstances made it impossible for him +to come on at once.</p> + +<p>Neither would it do for her to keep the letter until such a time as he +should see fit to return to the East and look her up. It might be years.</p> + +<p>The puzzling question kept whirling itself about in her mind for hours +until at last she formulated a plan which seemed to solve the problem.</p> + +<p>The plan was this. She would coax Amelia Ellen to take a trip to +California with her, and on the way they would stop in Arizona and give +the letter into the hands of the young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> man. By that time no doubt his +injured ankle would be sufficiently strong to allow his return from the +journey to the Indian reservation. She would say that she was going West +and, as she had promised his mother she would put the letter into his +hands, she had taken this opportunity to stop off and keep her promise. +The trip would be a good thing for Amelia Ellen too, and take her mind +off her loneliness for the mistress who was gone.</p> + +<p>Eagerly she broached the subject to Amelia Ellen the next morning, and +was met with a blank face of dismay.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't noways you'd fix it, my dearie," she said sadly shaking her +head. "I'd like nuthin' better'n to see them big trees out in Californy +I've been hearin' 'bout all my life; an' summer an' winter with snow on +the mountains what some of the boarders 't <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'th'">the</ins> inn tells 'bout; but I +can't bring it 'bout. You see it's this way. Peter Burley 'n' I ben +promused fer nigh on to twelve year now, an' when he ast me I said no, I +couldn't leave Mis' Brownleigh long's she needed me; an' he sez will I +marry him the week after she dies, an' I sez I didn't like no sech +dismal way o' puttin' it; an' he sez well, then, will I marry him the +week after she don't need me no more; an' I sez yes, I will, an' now I +gotta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> keep my promus! I can't go back on my faithful word. I'd like +real well to see them big trees, but I gotta keep my promus! You see +he's waited long 'nough, an' he's ben real patient. Not always he cud +get to see me every week, an' he might 'a' tuk Delmira that cooked to +the inn five year ago. She'd 'a' had him in a minnit, an' she done her +best to git him, but he stayed faithful, an' he sez, sez he, ''Meelia +El'n, ef you're meanin' to keep your word, I'll wait ef it's a lifetime, +but I hope you won't make it any longer'n you need;' an' the night he +said that I promused him agin I'd be hisn soon ez ever I was free to +do's I pleased. I'd like to see them big trees, but I can't do it. I +jes' can't do it."</p> + +<p>Now Hazel was not a young woman who was easily balked in her plans when +once they were made. She was convinced that the only thing to do was to +take this trip and that Amelia Ellen was the only person in the world +she wanted for a companion; therefore she made immediate acquaintance +with Peter Burley, a heavy-browed, thoughtful, stolid man, who looked +his character of patient lover, every inch of him, blue overalls and +all. Hazel's heart almost misgave her as she unfolded her plan to his +astonished ears, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> saw the look of blank dismay that overspread his +face. However, he had not waited all these years to refuse his +sweetheart anything in reason now. He drew a deep sigh, inquired how +long the trip as planned would take, allowed he "could wait another +month ef that would suit," and turned patiently to his barn-yard to +think his weary thoughts, and set his hopes a little further ahead. Then +Hazel's heart misgave her. She called after him and suggested that +perhaps he might like to have the marriage first and go with them, +taking the excursion as a wedding trip. She would gladly pay all +expenses if he would. But the man shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't leave the stock fer that long, ennyhow you fix it. Thur +ain't no one would know to take my place. Besides, I never was fer +takin' journeys; but 'Meelia Ellen, she's allus ben of a sprightlier +disposition, an' ef she hez a hankerin' after Californy, I 'spect she'll +be kinder more contented like ef she sees 'em first an' then settles +down in Granville. She better go while she's got the chancet."</p> + +<p>Amelia Ellen succumbed, albeit with tears. Hazel could not tell whether +she was more glad or sad at the prospect before her. Whiles Amelia Ellen +wept and bemoaned the fate of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> poor Burley, and whiles she questioned +whether there really were any big trees like what you saw in the +geographies with riding parties sitting contentedly in tunnels through +their trunks. But at last she consented to go, and with many an +injunction from the admiring and envious neighbours who came to see them +off, Amelia Ellen bade a sobbing good-bye to her solemn lover in the +gray dawn of an October morning, climbed into the stage beside Hazel, +and they drove away into the mystery of the great world. As she looked +back at her Peter, standing patient, stooped and gray in the familiar +village street, looking after his departing sweetheart who was going out +sightseeing into the world, Amelia Ellen would almost have jumped out +over the wheel and run back if it had not been for what the neighbours +would say, for her heart was Burley's; and now that the big trees were +actually pulling harder than Burley, and she had decided to go and see +them, Burley began by his very acquiescence to pull harder than the big +trees. It was a very teary Amelia Ellen who climbed into the train a few +hours later, looking back dismally, hopelessly, towards the old stage +they had just left, and wondering after all if she ever would get back +to Granville safe and alive again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> Strange fears visited her of dangers +that might come to Burley during her absence, which if they did she +would never forgive herself for having left him; strange horrors of the +way of things that might hinder her return; and she began to regard her +hitherto beloved travelling companion with almost suspicion, as if she +were a conspirator against her welfare.</p> + +<p>However, as the miles grew and the wonders of the way multiplied, Amelia +Ellen began to sit up and take notice, and to have a sort of excited +exultance that she had come; for were they not nearing the great famed +West now, and would it not soon be time to see the big trees and turn +back home again? She was almost glad she had come. She would be wholly +glad she had done so when she had got back safely home once more.</p> + +<p>And so one evening about sunset they arrived at the little station in +Arizona which over a year ago Hazel had left in her father's private +car.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XIV</h2> + +<h3>HOME</h3> + + +<p>Amelia Ellen, stiff from the unaccustomed travel, powdered with the dust +of the desert, wearied with the excitement of travel and lack of sleep +amid her strange surroundings, stepped down upon the wooden platform and +surveyed the magnificent distance between herself and anywhere; observed +the vast emptiness, with awful purpling mountains and limitless +stretches of vari-coloured ground arched by a dome of sky, higher and +wider and more dazzling than her stern New Hampshire soul had ever +conceived, and turned panic-stricken back to the train which was already +moving away from the little station. Her first sensation had been one of +relief at feeling solid ground under her feet once more, for this was +the first trip into the world Amelia Ellen had ever made, and the cars +bewildered her. Her second impulse was to get back into that train as +fast as her feet could carry her and get this awful journey done so that +she might earn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> the right to return to her quiet home and her faithful +lover.</p> + +<p>But the train was well under way. She looked after it half in envy. It +could go on with its work and not have to stop in this wild waste.</p> + +<p>She gazed about again with the frightened look a child deserted gives +before it puckers its lips and screams.</p> + +<p>Hazel was talking composedly with the rough-looking man on the platform, +who wore a wide felt hat and a pistol in his belt. He didn't look even +respectable to Amelia Ellen's provincial eyes. And behind him, horror of +horrors! loomed a real live Indian, long hair, high cheek bones, blanket +and all, just as she had seen them in the geography! Her blood ran cold! +Why, oh why, had she ever been left to do this daring thing—to leave +civilization and come away from her good man and the quiet home awaiting +her to certain death in the desert. All the stories of horrid scalpings +she had ever heard appeared before her excited vision. With a gasp she +turned again to the departing train, which had become a mere speck on +the desert, and even as she looked vanished around a curve and was lost +in the dim foot-hills of a mountain!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>Poor Amelia Ellen! Her head reeled and her heart sank. The vast prairie +engulfed her, as it were, and she stood trembling and staring in dazed +expectancy of an attack from earth or air or sky. The very sky and +ground seemed tottering together and threatening to extinguish her, and +she closed her eyes, caught her breath and prayed for Peter. It had been +her habit always in any emergency to pray for Peter Burley.</p> + +<p>It was no better when they took her to the eating-house across the +track. She picked her way among the evil-looking men, and surveyed the +long dining table with its burden of coarse food and its board seats +with disdain, declined to take off her hat when she reached the room to +which the slatternly woman showed them because she said there was no +place to lay it down that was fit; scorned the simple bed, refused to +wash her hands at the basin furnished for all, and made herself more +disagreeable than Hazel had dreamed her gentle, serviceable Amelia Ellen +ever could have been. No supper would she eat, nor would she remain long +at the table after the men began to file in, with curious eyes towards +the strangers.</p> + +<p>She stalked to the rough, unroofed porch in the front and stared off at +the dark vast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>ness, afraid of the wild strangeness, afraid of the +looming mountains, afraid of the multitude of stars. She said it was +ridiculous to have so many stars. It wasn't natural. It was irreverent. +It was like looking too close into heaven when you weren't intended to.</p> + +<p>And then a blood-curdling sound arose! It made her very hair stand on +end. She turned with wild eyes and grasped Hazel's arm, but she was too +frightened to utter a sound. Hazel had just come out to sit with her. +The men out of deference to the strangers had withdrawn from their +customary smoking place on the porch to the back of the wood-pile behind +the house. They were alone—the two women—out there in the dark, with +that awful, awful sound!</p> + +<p>Amelia Ellen's white lips framed the words "Indians"? "War-whoop"? but +her throat refused her sound and her breath came short.</p> + +<p>"Coyotes!" laughed Hazel, secure in her wide experience, with almost a +joyous ring to her voice. The sound of those distant beasts assured her +that she was in the land of her beloved at last and her soul rejoiced.</p> + +<p>"Coy—oh——" but Amelia Ellen's voice was lost in the recesses of her +skimpy pillow whither she had fled to bury her startled ears. She had +heard of coyotes, but she had never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> imagined to hear one outside of a +zoölogical garden, of which she had read and always hoped one day to +visit. There she lay on her hard little bed and quaked until Hazel, +laughing still, came to find her; but all she could get from the poor +soul was a pitiful plaint about Burley. "And what would he say if I was +to be et with one of them creatures? He'd never forgive me, never, never +s'long 's I lived! I hadn't ough' to 'a' come. I hadn't ough' to 'a' +come!"</p> + +<p>Nothing Hazel could say would allay her fears. She listened with horror +as the girl attempted to show how harmless the beasts were by telling of +her own night ride up the canyon, and how nothing harmed her. Amelia +Ellen merely looked at her with frozen glance made fiercer by the +flickering candle flare, and answered dully: "An' you knew 'bout 'em all +'long, an' yet you brung me! It ain't what I thought you'd do! Burley, +he'll never fergive me s'long 's I live ef I get et up. It ain't ez if I +was all alone in the world, you know. I got him to think of an' I can't +afford to run no resks of bein' et, <i>ef you can</i>."</p> + +<p>Not a wink of sleep did she get that night and when the morning dawned +and to the horrors of the night were added a telegram<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> from a neighbour +of Burley's saying that Burley had fallen from the haymow and broken his +leg, but he sent his respects and hoped they'd have a good journey, +Amelia Ellen grew uncontrollable. She declared she would not stay in +that awful country another minute. That she would take the first train +back—back to her beloved New Hampshire which she never again would +leave so long as her life was spared, unless Burley went along. She +would not even wait until Hazel had delivered her message. How could two +lone women deliver a message in a land like that? Never, <i>never</i> would +she ride, drive or walk, no, nor even set foot on the sand of the +desert. She would sit by the track until a train came along and she +would not even look further than she need. The frenzy of fear which +sometimes possesses simple people at sight of a great body of water, or +a roaring torrent pouring over a precipice, had taken possession of her +at sight of the desert. It filled her soul with its immensity, and poor +Amelia Ellen had a great desire to sit down on the wooden platform and +grasp firm hold of something until a train came to rescue her from this +awful emptiness which had tried to swallow her up.</p> + +<p>Poor Peter, with his broken leg, was her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> weird cry! One would think she +had broken it with the wheels of the car in which she had travelled away +from him by the way she took on about it and blamed herself. The tragedy +of a broken vow and its consequences was the subject of her discourse. +Hazel laughed, then argued, and finally cried and besought; but nothing +could avail. Go she would, and that speedily, back to her home.</p> + +<p>When it became evident that arguments and tears were of no use and that +Amelia Ellen was determined to go home with or without her, Hazel +withdrew to the front porch and took counsel with the desert in its +morning brightness, with the purple luring mountains, and the smiling +sky. Go back on the train that would stop at the station in half an +hour, with the desert there, and the wonderful land, and its strange, +wistful people, and not even see a glimpse of him she loved? Go back +with the letter still in her possession and her message still ungiven? +Never! Surely she was not afraid to stay long enough to send for him. +The woman who had fed them and sheltered them for the night would be her +protector. She would stay. There must be some woman of refinement and +culture somewhere near by to whom she could go for a few days until her +errand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> was performed; and what was her training in the hospital worth +if it did not give her some independence? Out here in the wild free West +women had to protect themselves. She could surely stay in the +uncomfortable quarters where she was for another day until she could get +word to the missionary. Then she could decide whether to proceed on her +journey alone to California, or to go back home. There was really no +reason why she should not travel alone if she chose; plenty of young +women did and, anyway, the emergency was not of her choosing. Amelia +Ellen would make herself sick fretting over her Burley, that was plain, +if she were detained even a few hours. Hazel came back to the nearly +demented Amelia Ellen with her chin tilted firmly and a straight little +set of her sweet lips which betokened stubbornness. The train came in a +brief space of time, and, weeping but firm, Amelia Ellen boarded it, +dismayed at the thought of leaving her dear young lady, yet stubbornly +determined to go. Hazel gave her the ticket and plenty of money, charged +the conductor to look after her, waved a brave farewell and turned back +to the desert alone.</p> + +<p>A brief conference with the woman who had entertained them, who was also +the wife<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> of the station agent, brought out the fact that the missionary +was not yet returned from his journey, but a message received from him a +few days before spoke of his probable return on the morrow or the day +after. The woman advised that the lady go to the fort where visitors +were always welcomed and where there were luxuries more fitted to the +stranger's habit. She eyed the dainty apparel of her guest enviously as +she spoke, and Hazel, keenly alive to the meaning of her look, realized +that the woman, like the missionary, had judged her unfit for life in +the desert. She was half determined to stay where she was until the +missionary's return, and show that she could adapt herself to any +surroundings, but she saw that the woman was anxious to have her gone. +It probably put her out to have a guest of another world than her own.</p> + +<p>The woman told her that a trusty Indian messenger was here from the fort +and was riding back soon. If the lady cared she could get a horse and go +under his escort. She opened her eyes in wonder when Hazel asked if +there was to be a woman in the party, and whether she could not leave +her work for a little while and ride over with them if she would pay her +well for the service.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't bring none o' them fine lady airs out here!" she +declared rudely. "We-all ain't got time fer no sech foolery. You needn't +be afraid to go back with Joe. He takes care of the women at the fort. +He'll look after you fine. You'll mebbe kin hire a horse to ride, an' +strop yer baggage on. Yer trunk ye kin leave here."</p> + +<p>Hazel, half frightened at the position she had allowed herself to be +placed in, considered the woman's words, and when she had looked upon +the Indian's stolid countenance decided to accept his escort. He was an +old man with furrowed face and sad eyes that looked as if they could +tell great secrets, but there was that in his face that made her trust +him, she knew not why.</p> + +<p>An hour later, her most necessary baggage strapped to the back of the +saddle on a wicked-looking little pony, Hazel, with a sense of deep +excitement, mounted and rode away behind the solemn, silent Indian. She +was going to the fort to ask shelter, until her errand was accomplished, +of the only women in that region who would be likely to take her in. She +had a feeling that the thing she was doing was a most wild and +unconventional proceeding and would come under the grave condemnation of +her aunt, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> all her New York friends. She was most thankful that they +were far away and could not interfere, for somehow she felt that she +must do it anyway. She must put that letter, with her own hands, into +the possession of its owner.</p> + +<p>It was a most glorious morning. The earth and the heavens seemed newly +made for the day. Hazel felt a gladness in her soul that would not down, +even when she thought of poor Amelia Ellen crouched in her corner of the +sleeper, miserable at her desertion, yet determined to go. She thought +of the dear mother, and wondered if 'twere given to her to know now how +she was trying to fulfill her last wish. It was pleasant to think she +knew and was glad, and Hazel felt as though her presence were near and +protecting her.</p> + +<p>The silent Indian made few remarks. He rode ahead always with a grave, +thoughtful expression, like a student whose thoughts are not to be +disturbed. He nodded gravely in answer to the questions Hazel asked him +whenever they stopped to water the horses, but he volunteered no +information beyond calling her attention to a lame foot her pony was +developing.</p> + +<p>Several times Joe got down and examined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> the pony's foot, and shook his +head, with a grunt of worried disapproval. Presently as the miles went +by Hazel began to notice the pony's lameness herself, and became alarmed +lest he would break down altogether in the midst of the desert. Then +what would the Indian do? Certainly not give her his horse and foot it, +as the missionary had done. She could not expect that every man in this +desert was like the one who had cared for her before. What a foolish +girl she had been to get herself into this fix! And now there was no +father to send out search parties for her, and no missionary at home to +find her!</p> + +<p>The dust, the growing heat of the day, and the anxiety began to wear +upon her. She was tired and hungry, and when at noon the Indian +dismounted beside a water-hole where the water tasted of sheep who had +passed through but a short time before, and handed her a package of corn +bread and cold bacon, while he withdrew to the company of the horses for +his own siesta, she was feign to put her head down on the coarse grass +and weep for her folly in coming out to this wild country alone, or at +least in being so headstrong as to stay when Amelia Ellen deserted her. +Then the thought suddenly occurred to her: how would Amelia Ellen have +figured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> in this morning's journey on horseback; and instead of weeping +she fell to laughing almost hysterically.</p> + +<p>She munched the corn bread—the bacon she could not eat—and wondered if +the woman at the stopping-place had realized what an impossible lunch +she had provided for her guest. However, here was one of the tests. She +was not worth much if a little thing like coarse food annoyed her so +much. She drank some of the bitter water, and bravely ate a second piece +of corn bread and tried to hope her pony would be all right after his +rest. But it was evident after they had gone a mile or two further that +the pony was growing worse. He lagged, and limped, and stopped, and it +seemed almost cruel to urge him further, yet what could be done? The +Indian rode behind now, watching him and speaking in low grunts to him +occasionally, and finally they came in sight of a speck of a building in +the distance. Then the Indian spoke. Pointing towards the distant +building, which seemed too tiny for human habitation, he said: "Aneshodi +hogan. Him friend me. Lady stay. Me come back good horse. Pony no go +more. He bad!"</p> + +<p>Dismay filled the heart of the lady. She gathered that her guide wished +to leave her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> by the way while he went on for another horse, and maybe +he would return and maybe not. Meantime, what kind of a place was he +leaving her in? Would there be a woman there? Even if she were an Indian +woman that would not be so bad. "Aneshodi" sounded as if it might be a +woman's name.</p> + +<p>"Is this Aneshodi a woman?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>The Indian shook his head and grunted. "Na, na. Aneshodi, Aneshodi. Him +friend me. Him good friend. No woman!" (In scorn.)</p> + +<p>"Is there no woman in the house?" she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Na! Him heap good man. Good hogan. Lady stay. Rest."</p> + +<p>Suddenly her pony stumbled and nearly fell. She saw that she could not +depend on him for long now.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I walk with you?" she asked, her eyes pleading. "I would +rather walk than stay. Is it far?"</p> + +<p>The Indian shook his head vigorously.</p> + +<p>"Lady no walk. Many suns lady walk. Great mile. Lady stay. Me ride fast. +Back sundown," and he pointed to the sun which was even now beginning +its downward course.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hazel saw there was nothing for it but to do as the Indian said, and +indeed his words seemed reasonable, but she was very much frightened. +What kind of a place was this in which she was to stay? As they neared +it there appeared to be nothing but a little weather-beaten shanty, with +a curiously familiar look, as if she had passed that way before. A few +chickens were picking about the yard, and a vine grew over the door, but +there was no sign of human being about and the desert stretched wide and +barren on every side. Her old fear of its vastness returned, and she +began to have a fellow feeling with Amelia Ellen. She saw now that she +ought to have gone with Amelia Ellen back to civilization and found +somebody who would have come with her on her errand. But then the letter +would have been longer delayed!</p> + +<p>The thought of the letter kept up her courage, and she descended +dubiously from her pony's back, and followed the Indian to the door of +the shanty. The vine growing luxuriantly over window and casement and +door frame reassured her somewhat, she could not tell just why. Perhaps +somebody with a sense of beauty lived in the ugly little building, and a +man with a sense of beauty could not be wholly bad. But how was she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> to +stay alone in a man's house where no woman lived? Perhaps the man would +have a horse to lend or sell them. She would offer any sum he wanted if +she only could get to a safe place.</p> + +<p>But the Indian did not knock at the door as she had expected he would +do. Instead he stooped to the lower step, and putting his hand into a +small opening in the woodwork of the step, fumbled there a minute and +presently brought out a key which he fitted into the lock and threw the +door wide open to her astonished gaze.</p> + +<p>"Him friend me!" explained the Indian again.</p> + +<p>He walked into the room with the manner of a partial proprietor of the +place, looked about, stooped down to the fireplace where a fire was +neatly laid, and set it blazing up cheerfully; took the water bucket and +filled it, and putting some water into the kettle swung it over the +blaze to heat, then turning, he spoke again:</p> + +<p>"Lady stay. Me come back—soon. Sun no go down. Me come back; good horse +get lady."</p> + +<p>"But where is the owner of this house? What will he think of my being +here when he comes back?" said Hazel, more frightened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> than ever at the +prospect of being left. She had not expected to stay entirely alone. She +had counted on finding some one in the house.</p> + +<p>"Aneshodi way off. Not come back one—two—day mebbe! He know me. He me +friend. Lady stay! All right!"</p> + +<p>Hazel, her eyes large with fear, watched her protector mount and ride +away. Almost she called after him that he must not leave her; then she +remembered that this was a part of a woman's life in Arizona, and she +was being tried. It was just such things as this the missionary had +meant when he said she was unfit for life out here. She would stay and +bear the loneliness and fright. She would prove, at least to herself, +that she had the courage of any missionary. She would not bear the +ignominy of weakness and failure. It would be a shame to her all her +life to know she had failed in this trying time.</p> + +<p>She watched the Indian riding rapidly away as if he were in hot haste. +Once the suspicion crossed her mind that perhaps he had lamed her horse +on purpose, and left her here just to get rid of her. Perhaps this was +the home of some dreadful person who would return soon and do her harm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> + +<p>She turned quickly, with alarm in her heart, to see what manner of place +she was in, for she had been too excited at first over the prospect of +being left to notice it much, save to be surprised that there were +chairs, a fireplace, and a look of comparative comfort. Now she looked +about to find out if possible just what sort of a person the owner might +be, and glancing at the table near the fireplace the first object her +eye fell upon was an open book, and the words that caught her vision +were: "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide +under the shadow of the Almighty!"</p> + +<p>With a start she turned the book over and found it was a Bible, bound in +plain, strong covers, with large, clear print, and it lay open as if the +owner had been reading it but a short time before and had been called +suddenly away.</p> + +<p>With a sigh of relief she sank down in the big chair by the fire and let +the excited tears have their way. Somehow her fear all vanished with +that sentence. The owner of the house could not be very bad when he kept +his Bible about and open to that psalm, her psalm, her missionary's +psalm! And there was assurance in the very words themselves, as if they +had been sent to remind her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> of her new trust in an Unseen Power. If she +was making the Most High her dwelling place continually, surely she was +under His protection continually, and had no need to be afraid anywhere, +for she was abiding in Him. The thought gave her a strange new sense of +sweetness and safety.</p> + +<p>After a moment she sat up wiping away the tears and began to look +around. Perhaps this was the home of some friend of her missionary. She +felt comforted about staying here now. She lifted her eyes to the wall +above the mantel and lo, there smiled the face of her dear friend, the +mother, who had just gone home to heaven, and beneath it—as if that +were not enough to bring a throb of understanding and joy to her +heart—beneath it hung her own little jewelled riding whip which she had +left on the desert a year ago and forgotten.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, with a cry of joy, she rose and clasped her hands over her +heart, relief and happiness in every line of her face.</p> + +<p>"It is his home! I have come to his own house!" she cried and looked +about her with the joy of discovery. This then was where he lived—there +were his books, here his chair where he sat and rested or studied—his +hands had left the Bible open at her psalm,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> his psalm—<i>their</i> psalm! +There was his couch over behind the screen, and at the other end the +tiny table and the dishes in the closet! Everything was in place, and +careful neatness reigned, albeit an air of manlike uncertainty about +some things.</p> + +<p>She went from one end to the other of the big room and back again, +studying every detail, revelling in the thought that now, whatever came +to her, she might take back with her a picture of himself in his own +quiet room when his work was laid aside for a little, and when, if ever +he had time and allowed himself, he perhaps thought of her.</p> + +<p>Time flew on winged feet. With the dear face of her old friend smiling +down upon her and that psalm open beside her on the table, she never +thought of fear. And presently she remembered she was hungry, and went +foraging in the cupboard for something to eat. She found plenty of +supplies, and after she had satisfied her hunger sat down in the great +chair by the fire and looked about her in contentment. With the peace of +the room, his room, upon her, and the sweet old face from the picture +looking down in benediction as if in welcome, she felt happier than +since her father had died.</p> + +<p>The quiet of the desert afternoon brooded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> outside, the fire burned +softly lower and lower at her side, the sun bent down to the west, and +long rays stole through the window and across at her feet, but the +golden head was drooping and the long-lashed eyes were closed. She was +asleep in his chair, and the dying firelight played over her face.</p> + +<p>Then, quietly, without any warning, the door opened and a man walked +into the room!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XV</h2> + +<h3>THE WAY OF THE CROSS</h3> + + +<p>The missionary had been a far journey to an isolated tribe of Indians +outside his own reservation. It was his first visit to them since the +journey he had taken with his colleague, and of which he had told Hazel +during their companionship in the desert. He had thought to go sooner, +but matters in his own extended parish, and his trip East, had united to +prevent him.</p> + +<p>They had lain upon his heart, these lonely, isolated people of another +age, living amid the past in their ancient houses high up on the cliffs; +a little handful of lonely, primitive children, existing afar; knowing +nothing of God and little of man; with their strange, simple ways, and +their weird appearance. They had come to him in visions as he prayed, +and always with a weight upon his soul as of a message undelivered.</p> + +<p>He had taken his first opportunity after his return from the East to go +to them; but it had not been as soon as he had hoped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> Matters in +connection with the new church had demanded his attention, and then when +they were arranged satisfactorily one of his flock was smitten with a +lingering illness, and so hung upon his friendship and companionship +that he could not with a clear conscience go far away. But at last all +hindrances subsided and he went forth on his mission.</p> + +<p>The Indians had received him gladly, noting his approach from afar and +coming down the steep way to meet him, putting their rude best at his +disposal, and opening their hearts to him. No white man had visited them +since his last coming with his friend, save a trader who had lost his +way, and who knew little about the God of whom the missionary had +spoken, or the Book of Heaven; at least he had not seemed to understand. +Of these things he was as ignorant, perhaps, as they.</p> + +<p>The missionary entered into the strange family life of the tribe who +inhabited the vast, many-roomed palace of rock carved high at the top of +the cliff. He laughed with them, ate with them, slept with them, and in +every way gained their full confidence. He played with their little +children, teaching them many new games and amusing tricks, and praising +the quick wits of the little ones; while their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> elders stood about, the +stolid look of their dusky faces relaxed into smiles of deep interest +and admiration.</p> + +<p>And then at night he told them of the God who set the stars above them; +who made the earth and them, and loved them; and of Jesus, His only Son, +who came to die for them and who would not only be their Saviour, but +their loving companion by day and by night; unseen, but always at hand, +caring for each one of His children individually, knowing their joys and +their sorrows. Gradually he made them understand that he was the +servant—the messenger—of this Christ, and had come there for the +express purpose of helping them to know their unseen Friend. Around the +camp-fire, under the starry dome, or on the sunny plain, whenever he +taught them they listened, their faces losing the wild, half-animal look +of the uncivilized, and taking on the hidden longing that all mortals +have in common. He saw the humanity in them looking wistfully through +their great eyes, and gave himself to teach them.</p> + +<p>Sometimes as he talked he would lift his face to the sky, and close his +eyes; and they would listen with awe as he spoke to his Father in +heaven. They watched him at first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> and looked up as if they half +expected to see the Unseen World open before their wondering gaze; but +gradually the spirit of devotion claimed them, and they closed their +eyes with him, and who shall say if the savage prayers within their +breasts were not more acceptable to the Father than many a wordy +petition put up in the temples of civilization?</p> + +<p>Seven days and nights he abode with them, and they fain would have +claimed him for their own, and begged him to give up all other places +and live there always. They would give him of their best. He would not +need to work, for they would give him his portion, and make him a home +as he should direct them. In short, they would enshrine him in their +hearts as a kind of under-god, representing to their childish minds the +true and Only One, the knowledge of whom he had brought to them.</p> + +<p>But he told them of his work, of why he must go back to it, and sadly +they prepared to bid him good-bye with many an invitation for return. In +going down the cliff, where he had gone with them many a time before, he +turned to wave another farewell to a little child who had been his +special pet, and turning, slipped, and wrenched his ankle so badly that +he could not move on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> + +<p>They carried him up to their home again, half sorrowful, but wholly +triumphant. He was theirs for a little longer; and there were more +stories he could tell. The Book of Heaven was a large one, and they +wanted to hear it all. They spread his couch of their best, and wearied +themselves to supply his necessity with all that their ignorance +imagined he needed, and then they sat at his feet and listened. The +sprain was a troublesome one and painful, and it yielded to treatment +but slowly; meanwhile the messenger arrived with the telegram from the +East.</p> + +<p>They gathered about it, that sheet of yellow paper with its mysterious +scratches upon it, which told such volumes to their friend, but gave no +semblance to sign language of anything in heaven above or earth beneath. +They looked with awe upon their friend as they saw the anguish in his +countenance. His mother was dead! This man who had loved her, and had +left her to bring them news of salvation, was suffering. It was one more +bond between them, one more tie of common humanity. And yet he could +look up and smile, and still speak to the invisible Father! They saw his +face as it were the face of an angel with the light of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> the comfort of +Christ upon it; and when he read to them and tried to make them +understand the majestic words: "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, +where is thy victory?" they sat and looked afar off, and thought of the +ones that they had lost. This man said they would all live again. His +mother would live; the chief they had lost last year, the bravest and +youngest chief of all their tribe, he would live too; their little +children would live; all they had lost would live again.</p> + +<p>So, when he would most have wished to be alone with his God and his +sorrow, he must needs lay aside his own bitter grief, and bring these +childish people consolation for their griefs, and in doing so the +comfort came to him also. For somehow, looking into their longing faces, +and seeing their utter need, and how eagerly they hung upon his words, +he came to feel the presence of the Comforter standing by his side in +the dark cave shadows, whispering to his heart sweet words that he long +had known but had not fully comprehended because his need for them had +never come before. Somehow time and things of earth receded, and only +heaven and immortal souls mattered. He was lifted above his own loss and +into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> joy of the inheritance of the servant of the Lord.</p> + +<p>But the time had come, all too soon for his hosts, when he was able to +go on his way; and most anxious he was to be started, longing for +further news of the dear one who was gone from him. They followed him in +sorrowful procession far into the plain to see him on his way, and then +returned to their mesa and their cliff home to talk of it all and +wonder.</p> + +<p>Alone upon the desert at last, the three great mesas like fingers of a +giant hand stretching cloudily behind him; the purpling mountains in the +distance; the sunlight shining vividly down over all the bright sands; +the full sense of his loss came at last upon him, and his spirit was +bowed with the weight of it. The vision of the Mount was passed, and the +valley of the shadow of life was upon him. It came to him what it would +be to have no more of his mother's letters to cheer his loneliness; no +thought of her at home thinking of him; no looking forward to another +home-coming.</p> + +<p>As he rode he saw none of the changing landscape by the way, but only +the Granville orchard with its showering pink and white, and his mother +lying happily beside him on the strawberry bank picking the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> sweet vivid +berries, and smiling back to him as if she had been a girl. He was glad, +glad he had that memory of her. And she had seemed so well, so very +well. He had been thinking that perhaps when there was hope of building +a little addition to his shack and making a possible place of comfort +for her, that he might venture to propose that she come out to him and +stay. It was a wish that had been growing, growing in his lonely heart +since that visit home when it seemed as if he could not tear himself +away from her and go back; and yet knew that he could not stay—would +not want to stay, because of his beloved work. And now it was over +forever, his dream! She would never come to cheer his home, and he would +always have to live a lonely life—for he knew in his heart there was +only one girl in the whole world he would want to ask to come, and her +he might not, must not ask.</p> + +<p>As endless and as desolate as his desert his future lay stretched out +before his mind. For the time his beloved work and the joy of service +was sunk out of sight, and he saw only himself, alone, forsaken of all +love, walking his sorrowful way apart; and there surged over him a great +and deadly weakness as of a spirit in despair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> + +<p>In this mind he lay down to rest in the shadow of a great rock about the +noon hour, too weary in spirit and exhausted in body to go further +without a sleep. The faithful Billy dozed and munched his portion not +far away; and high overhead a great eagle soared high and far, adding to +the wide desolateness of the scene. Here he was alone at last for the +first time with his grief, and for a while it had its way, and he faced +it; entering into his Gethsemane with bowed spirit and seeing nothing +but blackness all about him. It was so, worn with the anguish of his +spirit, that he fell asleep.</p> + +<p>While he slept there came to him peace; a dream of his mother, smiling, +well, and walking with a light free step as he remembered her when he +was a little boy; and by her side the girl he loved. How strange, and +wonderful, that these two should come to him and bring him rest! And +then, as he lay still dreaming, they smiled at him and passed on, hand +in hand, the girl turning and waving her hand as if she meant to return; +and presently they passed beyond his sight. Then One stood by him, +somewhere within the shelter of the rock under which he lay, and spoke; +and the Voice thrilled his soul as it had never been thrilled in life +before:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Lo, <i>I</i> am with you <i>alway</i>, even unto the end of +the world."</p></div> + +<p>The Peace of that Invisible Presence descended upon him in full measure, +and when he awoke he found himself repeating: "The peace which passeth +understanding!" and realizing that for the first time he knew what the +words meant.</p> + +<p>Some time he lay quietly like a child who had been comforted and cared +for, wondering at the burden which had been lifted, glorying in the +peace that had come in its place; rejoicing in the Presence that he felt +would be with him always, and make it possible for him to bear the +loneliness.</p> + +<p>At last he turned his head to see if Billy were far away, and was +startled to see the shadow of the rock, under which he lay, spread out +upon the sand before him, the semblance of a perfect mighty cross. For +so the jutting uneven arms of the rock and the position of the sun +arranged the shadows before him. "The shadow of a great rock in a weary +land." The words came to his memory, and it seemed to be his mother's +voice repeating them as she used to do on Sabbath evenings when they sat +together in the twilight before his bedtime. A weary land! It <i>was</i> a +weary land now, and his soul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> had been parched with the heat and +loneliness. He had needed the rock as he had never needed it before, and +the Rock, Christ Jesus, had become a rest and a peace to his soul. But +there it lay spread out upon the sand beside him, and it was the way of +the cross; the Christ way was always the way of the cross. But what was +the song they sang at that great meeting he attended in New York? "The +way of the cross leads home." Ah, that was it. Some day it would lead +him home, but now it was the way of the cross and he must take it with +courage, and always with that unseen but close Companion who had +promised to be with him even to the end of the world.</p> + +<p>Well, he would rise up at once, strong in that blessed companionship. +Cheerfully he made his preparations for starting, and now he turned +Billy's head a trifle to the south, for he decided to stop over night +with his colleague.</p> + +<p>When his grief and loneliness were fresh upon him it had seemed that he +could not bear this visit. But since peace had come to his soul he +changed his course to take in the other mission, which was really on his +way, only that he had purposely avoided it.</p> + +<p>They made him welcome, those two who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> had made a little bit of earthly +paradise out of their desert shack; and they compelled him to stay with +them and rest three days, for he was more worn with the journey and his +recent pain and sorrow than he realized. They comforted him with their +loving sympathy and gladdened his soul with the sight of their own joy, +albeit it gave him a feeling of being set apart from them. He started in +the early dawn of the day when the morning star was yet visible, and as +he rode through the beryl air of the dawning hour he was uplifted from +his sadness by a sense of the near presence of Christ.</p> + +<p>He took his way slowly, purposely turning aside three times from the +trail to call at the hogans of some of his parishioners; for he dreaded +the home-coming as one dreads a blow that is inevitable. His mother's +picture awaited him in his own room, smiling down upon his possessions +with that dear look upon her face, and to look at it for the first time +knowing that she was gone from earth forever was an experience from +which he shrank inexpressibly. Thus he gave himself more time, knowing +that it was better to go calmly, turning his mind back to his work, and +doing what she would have liked him to do.</p> + +<p>He camped that night under the sheltered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> ledge where he and Hazel had +been, and as he lay down to sleep he repeated the psalm they had read +together that night, and felt a sense of the comfort of abiding under +the shadow of the Almighty.</p> + +<p>In visions of the night he saw the girl's face once more, and she smiled +upon him with that glad welcoming look, as though she had come to be +with him always. She did not say anything in the dream, but just put out +her hands to him with a motion of surrender.</p> + +<p>The vision faded as he opened his eyes, yet so real had it been that it +remained with him and thrilled him with the wonder of her look all day. +He began to ponder whether he had been right in persistently putting her +out of his life as he had done. Bits of her own sentences came to him +with new meaning and he wondered after all if he had not been a fool. +Perhaps he might have won her. Perhaps God had really sent her to him to +be his life companion, and he had been too blind to understand.</p> + +<p>He put the idea from him many times with a sigh as he mended the fire +and prepared his simple meal, yet always her face lingered sweetly in +his thoughts, like balm upon his saddened spirit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> + +<p>Billy was headed towards home that morning, and seemed eager to get on. +He had not understood his master these sad days. Something had come over +his spirits. The little horse neighed cheerfully and started on his way +with willing gait. However lonely the master might be, home was good, +with one's own stall and manger; and who might tell but some +presentiment told Billy that the princess was awaiting them?</p> + +<p>The missionary endeavoured to keep his thoughts upon his work and plans +for the immediate future, but try as he would the face of the girl kept +smiling in between; and all the beauties of the way combined to bring +back the ride he had taken with her; until finally he let his fancy +dwell upon her with pleasant thoughts of how it would be if she were +his, and waiting for him at the end of his journey; or better still, +riding beside him at this moment, bearing him sweet converse on the way.</p> + +<p>The little shack stood silent, familiar, in the setting sunlight, as he +rode up to the door, and gravely arranged for Billy's comfort, then with +his upward look for comfort he went towards his lonely home and opening +the door stood wondering upon the threshold!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE LETTER</h3> + + +<p>It was only an instant before she opened her eyes, for that subconscious +state, that warns even in sleep of things that are going on outside the +world of slumber, told her there was another soul present.</p> + +<p>She awakened suddenly and looked up at him, the rosiness of sleep upon +her cheeks and the dewiness of it upon her eyelids. She looked most +adorable with the long red slant of sunset from the open door at her +feet and the wonder of his coming in her face. Their eyes met, and told +the story, before brain had time to give warning of danger and need of +self-control.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my darling!" the man said and took a step towards her, his arms +outstretched as if he would clasp her, yet daring hardly to believe that +it was really herself in the flesh.</p> + +<p>"My darling! Have you really come to me?" He breathed the question as +though its answer meant life or death to him.</p> + +<p>She arose and stood before him, trembling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> with joy, abashed now that +she was in his presence, in his home, unbidden. Her tongue seemed tied. +She had no word with which to explain. But because he saw the love in +her eyes and because his own need of her was great, he became bolder, +and coming closer he began to tell her earnestly how he had longed and +prayed that God would make a way for him to find her again; how he had +fancied her here in this room, his own dear companion—his wife!</p> + +<p>He breathed the word tenderly, reverently and she felt the blessing and +the wonder of the love of this great simple-hearted man.</p> + +<p>Then because he saw his answer in her eyes, he came near and took her +reverently in his arms, laid his lips upon hers, and thus they stood for +a moment together, knowing that after all the sorrow, the longing, the +separation, each had come into his own.</p> + +<p>It was some time before Hazel could get opportunity to explain how she +came all unknowingly to be in his house, and even then he could not +understand what joyful circumstance had set her face fortward and +dropped her at his door. So she had to go back to the letter, the letter +which was the cause of it all, and yet for the moment had been +forgotten. She brought it forth now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> and his face, all tender with the +joy of her presence, grew almost glorified when he knew that it was she +who had been his mother's tender nurse and beloved friend through the +last days of her life.</p> + +<p>With clasped hands they talked together of his mother. Hazel told him +all: how she had come upon her that summer's day, and her heart had +yearned to know her for his sake; and how she had gone back again, and +yet again; all the story of her own struggles for a better life. When +she told of her cooking lessons he kissed the little white hands he +held, and when she spoke of her hospital work he touched his lips to +eyes and brow in reverent worshipfulness.</p> + +<p>"And you did all that because——?" he asked and looked deep into her +eyes, demanding hungrily his answer.</p> + +<p>"Because I wanted to be worthy of your love!" she breathed softly, her +eyes down-drooped, her face rosy with her confession.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my darling!" he said, and clasped her close once more. Almost the +letter itself was forgotten, until it slipped softly to the floor and +called attention to itself. There was really after all no need for the +letter. It had done its intended work without being read. But they read +it together, his arm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> about her shoulders, and their heads close, each +feeling the need of the comforting love of the other because of the +bereavement each had suffered.</p> + +<p>And thus they read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"<span class="smcap">My dear Son</span>:<br /> + + +<p>"I am writing this letter in what I believe to be +the last few days of my life. Long ago I made our +dear doctor tell me just what would be the signs +that preceded the probable culmination of my +disease. He knew I would be happier so, for I had +some things I wished to accomplish before I went +away. I did not tell you, dear son, because I knew +it could but distress you and turn your thoughts +away from the work to which you belong. I knew +when you came home to me for that dear last visit +that I had only a little while longer left here, +and I need not tell you what those blessed days of +your stay were to me. You know without my telling. +You perhaps will blame yourself that you did not +see how near the end it was and stay beside me; +but John, beloved, I would not have been happy to +have had it so. It would have brought before you +with intensity the parting side of death, and this +I wished to avoid. I want you to think of me as +gone to be with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> Jesus and with your dear father. +Besides, I wanted the pleasure of giving you back +again to your work before I went away.</p> + +<p>"It was because I knew the end was near that I +dared do a lot of things that I would have been +careful about otherwise. It was in the strength of +the happiness of your presence that I forced +myself to walk again that you might remember your +mother once more on her feet. Remember now when +you are reading this I shall be walking the golden +streets with as strong and free a gait as you walk +your desert, dear. So don't regret anything of the +good time we had, nor wish you had stayed longer. +It was perfect, and the good times are not over +for us. We shall have them again on the other side +some day when there are no more partings forever.</p> + +<p>"But there is just one thing that has troubled me +ever since you first went away, and that is that +you are alone. God knew it was not good for man to +be alone, and He has a helpmeet for my boy +somewhere in the world, I am sure. I would be glad +if I might go knowing that you had found her and +that she loved you as I loved your father when I +married him. I have never talked much about these +things to you because I do not think mothers +should try to influence their children<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> to marry +until God sends the right one, and then it is not +the mother who should be the judge, of course. But +once I spoke to you in a letter. You remember? It +was after I had met a sweet girl whose life seemed +so fitted to belong to yours. You opened your +heart to me then and told me you had found the one +you loved and would never love another—but she +was not for you. My heart ached for you, laddie, +and I prayed much for you then, for it was a sore +trial to come to my boy away out there alone with +his trouble. I had much ado not to hate that girl +to whom you had given your love, and not to fancy +her a most disagreeable creature with airs, and no +sense, not to recognize the man in my son, and not +to know his beautiful soul and the worth of his +love. But then I thought perhaps she couldn't help +it, poor child, that she didn't know enough to +appreciate you; and likely it was God's good +leading that kept you from her. But I have kept +hoping that some time He would bring you to love +another who was more worthy than she could have +been.</p> + +<p>"Dear, you have never said anything more about +that girl, and I hope you have forgotten her, +though sometimes when you were at home I noticed +that deep, far-away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> look in your eyes, and a +sadness about your lips that made me tremble lest +her memory was just as bright as ever. I have +wanted you to know the sweet girl Hazel Radcliffe +who has been my dear friend and almost +daughter—for no daughter could have been dearer +than she has been to me, and I believe she loves +me too as I love her. If you had been nearer I +would have tried to bring you two together, at +least for once, that you might judge for +yourselves; but I found out that she was shy as a +bird about meeting any one—though she has hosts +of young men friends in her New York home—and +that she would have run away if you had come. +Besides, I could not have given you any reason but +the truth for sending for you, and I knew God +would bring you two together if it was His will. +But I could not go happy from this earth without +doing something towards helping you just to see +her once, and so I have asked her to give you this +letter with her own hand, if possible, and she has +promised to do so. You will come home when I am +gone and she will have to see you, and when you +look on her sweet face if you do not feel as your +mother does about her, it is all right, dear son; +only I wanted you just to see her once because I +love her so much, and because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> I love you. If you +could forget the other and love this one it seems +as though I should be glad even in heaven, but if +you do not feel that way when you see her, John, +don't mind my writing this letter, for it pleased +me much to play this little trick upon you before +I left; and the dear girl must never know—unless +indeed you love her—and then I do not care—for I +know she will forgive me for writing this silly +letter, and love me just the same.</p> + +<p>"Dear boy, just as we never liked to say good-bye +when you went away to college, but only 'Au +revoir,' so there won't be any good-bye now, only +I love you.</p> + +<div class='right'> +"<span class="smcap">Your Mother.</span>" <br /> +</div></div> + + +<p>Hazel was weeping softly when they finished the letter, and there were +tears in the eyes of the son, though they were glorified by the smile +that shone upon the girl as he folded the letter and said:</p> + +<p>"Wasn't that a mother for a fellow to have? And could I do anything else +than give myself when she gave all she had? And to think she picked out +the very one for me that I loved of all the world, and sent her out to +me because I was too set in my way to come back after her. It is just as +if my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> mother sent you down as a gift from heaven to me, dear!" and +their lips met once more in deep love and understanding.</p> + +<p>The sun was almost setting now, and suddenly the two became aware that +night was coming on. The Indian would be returning and they must plan +what to do.</p> + +<p>Brownleigh rose and went to the door to see if the Indian were in sight. +He was thinking hard and fast. Then he came back and stood before the +girl.</p> + +<p>"Dear!" he said, and the tone of his voice brought the quick colour to +her cheeks; it was so wonderful, so disconcerting to be looked at and +spoken to in that way. She caught her breath and wondered if it were not +a dream after all. "Dear," another of those deep, searching looks, "this +is a big, primitive country and we do things in a most summary way out +here sometimes. You must tell me if I go too fast; but could—<i>would</i> +you—do you think you love me enough to marry me at once—to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she breathed, lifting her happy eyes. "It would be beautiful to +never have to leave you again—but—you hardly know me. I am not fitted, +you know. You are a great, wonderful missionary, and I—I am only a +foolish girl who has fallen in love with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> you and can't ever be happy +again without you."</p> + +<p>She buried her face in the arm of the chair and cried happy, shamed +tears, and he gathered her up in his arms and comforted her, his face +shining with a glorified expression.</p> + +<p>"Dear," he said when he could speak again, "dear, don't you know that is +all I want? And don't ever talk that way again about me. I am no saint, +as you'll very well find out, but I'll promise to love and cherish you +as long as we both shall live. Will you marry me to-night?"</p> + +<p>There was a silence in the little room broken only by the low crackling +of the dying fire.</p> + +<p>She lifted shy glad eyes to his, and then came and laid her two hands in +his.</p> + +<p>"If you are quite sure you want me," she breathed softly.</p> + +<p>The rapture of his face and the tenderness of his arms assured her on +that point.</p> + +<p>"There is just one great regret I have," said the young man, lifting his +eyes towards his mother's picture. "If she only could have known it was +you that I loved. Why didn't I tell her your name? But then—— Why, my +dear, I didn't know your name. Do you realize that? I haven't known your +name until now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I certainly did realize it," said Hazel with rosy cheeks. "It used to +hurt dreadfully sometimes to think that even if you wanted to find me +you wouldn't know how to go about it."</p> + +<p>"You dear! Did you care so much?" His voice was deep and tender and his +eyes were upon her.</p> + +<p>"So much!" she breathed softly.</p> + +<p>But the splash of red light on the floor at their feet warned them of +the lateness of the hour and they turned to the immediate business of +the moment.</p> + +<p>"It is wonderful that things are just as they are to-night," said +Brownleigh in his full, joyous tones. "It certainly seems providential. +Bishop Vail, my father's old college chum, has been travelling through +the West on missionary work for his church, and he is now at the +stopping place where you spent last night. He leaves on the midnight +train to-night, but we can get there long before that time, and he will +marry us. There is no one I would rather have had, though the choice +should have been yours. Are you going to mind very much being married in +this brief and primitive manner?"</p> + +<p>"If I minded those things I should not be worthy of your love," said +Hazel softly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> "No, I don't mind in the least. Only I've really nothing +along to get married in—nothing suitable for a wedding gown. You won't +be able to remember me in bridal attire—and there won't be even Amelia +Ellen for bridesmaid." She smiled at him mischievously.</p> + +<p>"You darling!" he said laying his lips upon hers again. "You need no +bridal attire to make you the sweetest bride that ever came to Arizona, +and I shall always remember you as you are now, as the most beautiful +sight my eyes ever saw. If there was time to get word to some of my +colleagues off at their stations we should have a wedding reception that +would outrival your New York affairs so far as enthusiasm and genuine +hearty good will is concerned, but they are all from forty to a hundred +miles away from here and it will be impossible. Are you sure you are not +too tired to ride back to the stopping place to-night?" He looked at her +anxiously. "We will hitch Billy to the wagon, and the seat has good +springs. I will put in plenty of cushions and you can rest on the way, +and we will not attempt to come back to-night. It would be too much for +you."</p> + +<p>She began to protest but he went on:</p> + +<p>"No, dear, I don't mean we'll stay in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> little hole where you spent +last night. That would be awful! But what would you say to camping in +the same spot where we had our last talk? I have been there many times +since and often spend the night there because of its sweet association +with you. It is not far, you know, from the railroad—a matter of a few +minutes' ride—and there is good water. We can carry my little tent and +trappings, and then take as much of a wedding trip afterwards as you +feel you have strength for before we return, though we shall have the +rest of our lives to make one dear long wedding trip of, I hope. Will +that plan suit you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it will be beautiful," said Hazel with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. I will get everything ready for our start and you must +rest until I call you." With that he stooped and before she realized +what he was doing gently lifted her from her feet and laid her down upon +his couch over in the corner, spreading a many-coloured Indian blanket +over her. Then he deftly stirred up the fire, filled up the kettle, +swung it back over the blaze, and with a smile went out to prepare Billy +and the wagon.</p> + +<p>Hazel lay there looking about her new home with happy eyes, noting each +little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> touch of refinement and beauty that showed the character of the +man who had lived his life alone there for three long years, and +wondering if it were really herself, the lonely little struggling nurse +with the bitter ache in her heart, who was feeling so happy here +to-day—Hazel Radcliffe, the former New York society girl, rejoicing +ecstatically because she was going to marry a poor home missionary and +live in a shanty! How her friends would laugh and sneer, and how Aunt +Maria would lift her hands in horror and say the family was disgraced! +But it did not matter about Aunt Maria. Poor Aunt Maria! She had never +approved of anything that Hazel wanted to do all her life. As for her +brother—and here her face took on a shade of sadness—her brother was +of another world than hers and always had been. People said he was like +his dead mother. Perhaps the grand man of the desert could help her +brother to better things. Perhaps he would come out here to visit them +and catch a vision of another kind of life and take a longing for it as +she had done. He could not fail at least to see the greatness of the man +she had chosen.</p> + +<p>There was great comfort to her in this hour to remember that her father +had been inter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>ested in her missionary, and had expressed a hope that +she might meet him again some day. She thought her father would have +been pleased at the choice she had made, for he had surely seen the +vision of what was really worth while in life before he died.</p> + +<p>Suddenly her eyes turned to the little square table over by the +cupboard. What if she should set it?</p> + +<p>She sprang up and suited the action to the thought.</p> + +<p>Almost as a child might handle her first pewter set Hazel took the +dishes from the shelves and arranged them on the table. They were pretty +china dishes, with a fine old sprigged pattern of delicate flowers. She +recognized them as belonging to his mother's set, and handled them +reverently. It almost seemed as if that mother's presence was with her +in the room as she prepared the table for her first meal with the +beloved son.</p> + +<p>She found a large white towel in the cupboard drawer that she spread on +the rough little table, and set the delicate dishes upon it: two plates, +two cups and saucers, knives and forks—two of everything! How it +thrilled her to think that in a little while she would belong here in +this dear house, a part of it, and that they two would have a right to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +sit together at this table through the years. There might come hardships +and disappointments—of course there would. She was no fool! Life was +full of disappointments for everybody, as well as of beautiful +surprises! But come what would she knew by the thrill in her heart that +she would never be sorry for this day in which she had promised to +become the wife of the man of the desert, and she would always cherish +the memory of this her first setting of the little table, and let it +make all future settings of that table a holy ordinance.</p> + +<p>She found a can of soup in the cupboard, and made it hot in a small +saucepan on the fire, and set forth on the table crackers and cheese, a +glass of jelly, a small bottle of stuffed olives and some little cakes +she had brought with her in her suit-case. She had thought she might +need something of the sort when she landed in Arizona, for there was no +telling but she might have to ride across the desert to find her +missionary; and sure enough that had been the case.</p> + +<p>It looked very cozy when Brownleigh came in to say that the wagon was +ready and he thought he saw the Indian in the dusk coming across the +plain, but he stopped short without speech, for here before him was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> the +picture which his mind and heart had painted for him many a time: this +girl, the one girl in all the earth for him, kneeling beside his hearth +and dishing up the steaming soup into the hot dishes, the firelight +playing on her sweet face and golden hair, and every line and motion of +her graceful body calling for his adoration! So he stood for one long +minute and feasted his hungry eyes upon the sight, until she turned and +saw his heart in his eyes, and her own face grew rosy with the joy and +the meaning of it all.</p> + +<p>And so they sat down to their first meal in the little house together, +and then having sent the Indian back to the fort with a message, they +took their way forth in the starlight together to begin their wedding +journey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XVII</h2> + +<h3>DEDICATION</h3> + + +<p>Billy made good time in spite of the fact that he had been out all day +on parishional work, but he knew who he was hauling, and seemed to take +deep satisfaction in having Hazel back again, for now and again he would +turn back towards the wagon when they stopped for water and whinny +happily.</p> + +<p>They reached the stopping place about nine o'clock, and the news that +the missionary was going to be married spread like wildfire among the +men and out to the neighbouring shacks. In no time a small crowd had +collected about the place, peering out of the starlit darkness.</p> + +<p>Hazel retired to the forlorn little chamber where she had spent the +night before and rummaged in her trunk for bridal apparel. In a few +minutes she emerged into the long dining-room where the table had been +hastily cleared and moved aside, and upon which the boarders were now +seated in long rows, watching the proceedings curiously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was dressed in a simple white muslin, touched here and there with +exquisite hand embroidery and tiny cobwebby edges of real lace. The +missionary caught his breath as he saw her come out to him, and the +rough faces of the men softened as they watched her.</p> + +<p>The white-haired bishop arose to meet her and welcomed her in a fatherly +way he had, and the woman who kept the stopping place came following in +Hazel's wake, hastily wiping her hands on her apron, and casting it +behind her as she entered. She had been preparing an impromptu supper +out of any materials that happened to be at hand, but she could not miss +the ceremony if the coffee did burn. Weddings did not come her way every +day.</p> + +<p>In the doorway, his stolid face shining in the glare of many candles, +stood the Indian from the fort. He had followed silently behind the +couple to witness the proceedings, well knowing he would be forgiven by +his mistress at the fort when he told his news. The missionary was well +beloved—and the missionary was going to be married!</p> + +<p>What would the four hundred of her own select New York circle have said +could they have seen Hazel Radcliffe standing serene, in her simple +gown, with her undecked golden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> hair, in the midst of that motley +company of men, with only three curious slatternly women in the +background to keep her company, giving herself away to a man who had +dedicated his life to work in the desert? But Hazel's happy heart was +serenely unconscious of the incongruity of her surroundings, and she +answered with a clear ring to her voice as the bishop asked her the +questions: "I will." She was coming gladly to her new home.</p> + +<p>It was her own ring, the ring she had given him, that John Brownleigh +put upon her hand in token of his loyalty and love for her, the ring +that for a whole year had lain next his own heart and comforted its +loneliness because she had given it, and now he gave it back because she +had given him herself.</p> + +<p>Graciously she placed her small white hand in the rough awkward ones of +the men who came to offer her congratulations, half stumbling over their +own feet in their awe and wonder at her beauty. It was to them as if an +angel from heaven had suddenly dropped down and condescended to walk +their daily path in sight of them all.</p> + +<p>Cheerfully she swallowed the stale cake and muddy coffee that the +slatternly landlady produced, and afterwards, as she was being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> helped +to get back into her riding dress, bestowed upon her a little lilac wool +frock from her trunk that the woman admired greatly. From that moment +the landlady of the stopping place was a new creature. Missions and +missionaries had been nothing to her through the years, but she believed +in them forever after, and donned her new lilac gown in token of her +faith in Christianity. Thus Hazel won her first convert, who afterwards +proved her fidelity in time of great trial, and showed that even a lilac +gown may be an instrument of good.</p> + +<p>Out into the starlight together again they rode, with the blessing of +the bishop upon them, and the cheers of the men still sounding in their +ears.</p> + +<p>"I wish mother could have known," said the bridegroom as he drew his +bride close within his arm and looked down upon her nestling by his +side.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think she does!" said Hazel as she dropped a thankful, weary head +against his shoulder. Then the missionary stooped and gave his wife a +long, tender kiss, and raising his head and lifting his eyes to the +starlit sky he said reverently:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Father, I thank Thee for this wonderful gift. Make me worthy of +her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> Help her never to regret that she has come to me."</p> + +<p>Hazel crept her hand into his free one, and laid her lips upon his +fingers, and prayed all quietly by herself for gladness. So they rode +out to their camp beneath God's sky.</p> + +<p>Three days later an Indian on the way to the fort turned aside with a +message for Hazel—a telegram. It read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Arrived safe. Married Burley to once so I could +see to him. Do come home right away. Burley says +come and live with us. Answer right away. I can't +enjoy my new home worrying about you.</p> + +<div class='right'> +"Yours respectful, <br /> +"<span class="smcap">Amelia Ellen Stout Burley.</span>" <br /> +</div></div> + +<p>With laughter and tears Hazel read the telegram whose price must have +cost the frugal New England conscience a twinge, and after a moment's +thought wrote an answer to send back by the messenger.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Amelia Ellen:</span> Love and congratulations for +you both. I was married to John Brownleigh the +night you left. Come out and see us when your +husband gets well, and perhaps we'll visit you +when we come East. I am very happy.</p> + +<div class='right'> +"<span class="smcap">Hazel Radcliffe Brownleigh.</span>" <br /></div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> + +<p>When good Amelia Ellen read that telegram she wiped her spectacles a +second time and read it over to see that she had made no mistake, and +then she set her toil-worn hands upon her hips and surveyed the prone +but happy Burley in dazed astonishment, ejaculating:</p> + +<p>"Fer the land sake! Now did you ever? Fer the land! Was that what she +was up to all the time? I thought she was wonderful set to go, and +wonderful set to stay, but I never sensed what was up. Ef I'd 'a' +knowed, I suppose I'd 'a' stayed another day. Why didn't she tell me, I +wonder! Well, fer the land sake!"</p> + +<p>And Burley murmured contentedly:</p> + +<p>"Wal, I'm mighty glad you never knowed, Amelia Ellen!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>The Novels of<br />Grace Livingston Hill</h2> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<div class='center'>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.</div> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<div class='blockquot'>Many thousands of readers have found inspiration and happiness in +reading the novels of Grace Livingston Hill. In her charming romances +there is a sympathetic buoyant spirit that conquers discouragement, +which teaches that true love and happiness will come out of the worst +trial.</div> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Grace Livingston Hill books"> +<tr><td align='left'>Amorelle</td><td align='left'>The Voice in the Wilderness</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Ransom</td><td align='left'>The Beloved Stranger</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Patch of Blue</td><td align='left'>Happiness Hill</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Kerry</td><td align='left'>The Challengers</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Chance of a Lifetime </td><td align='left'>The City of Fire</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Silver Wings</td><td align='left'>Cloudy Jewel</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ladybird</td><td align='left'>Dawn of the Morning</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The White Lady</td><td align='left'>The Enchanted Barn</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Gold Shoe</td><td align='left'>Exit Betty</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Found Treasure</td><td align='left'>The Finding of Jasper Holt</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Blue Ruin</td><td align='left'>The Girl from Montana</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Prodigal Girl</td><td align='left'>Lo, Michael</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Duskin</td><td align='left'>The Man of the Desert</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Crimson Roses</td><td align='left'>Marcia Schuyler</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Out of the Storm</td><td align='left'>Phoebe Deane</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Honor Girl</td><td align='left'>The Red Signal</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Job's Niece</td><td align='left'>Tomorrow About This Time</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A New Name</td><td align='left'>The Tryst</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ariel Custer</td><td align='left'>The Witness</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Best Man</td><td align='left'>Not Under the Law</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Re-Creations</td><td align='left'>The White Flower</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<div class='center'>GROSSET & DUNLAP <i>Publishers</i> NEW YORK<br /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIDA LARRIMORE'S</h2> + +<h3>POPULAR NOVELS</h3> + +<div class='center'><big>About the kind of people all of us like to know</big></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class='center'>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class='blockquot'>Each new story by Lida Larrimore proves to be even more popular than the +last. Her books satisfy that tender mood that wants lightness and youth +and beauty; that wants to be stirred by the heartaches of love and its +charm.</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class='center'> +TWO KEYS TO A CABIN<br /> +NO LOVELIER SPRING<br /> +TRUE BY THE SUN<br /> +JONATHAN'S DAUGHTER<br /> +ROBIN HILL<br /> +THE SILVER FLUTE<br /> +MULBERRY SQUARE<br /> +THE WAGON AND THE STAR<br /> +TARPAPER PALACE<br /> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class='center'> +GROSSET & DUNLAP <i>Publishers</i> NEW YORK<br /> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Man of the Desert, by Grace Livingston Hill + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN OF THE DESERT *** + +***** This file should be named 21633-h.htm or 21633-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/6/3/21633/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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